Far From Home
A young woman sat cross-legged on the bluff in Evergreen Meadows with the head of a wolf in her lap. Her long, wavy, golden hair fell past her shoulders and lightly brushed the ears of her animal friend. A green beret bearing the emblem of the Resistance sat on her head. She pulled down the green, spotted bandanna and pulled up the goggles to expose what was once hailed as the fairest face in Francia. A breeze caught her hair and blew it behind her like the trail of a shooting star. Her dark blue eyes seemed full of tears that were never shed. Her lips trembled with sobs unreleased. The wolf whimpered, as if it could sense the unhappiness of its mistress and friend. The lady looked down and tenderly fondled the furry ears of her companion. The wolf felt it as well, she could tell. The animal shifted its paws and looked up with eyes that, for a moment, seemed almost human. The lady rubbed its furry neck and caressed the canines head. The wolf waved its tale weakly. They both knew it; they both missed home.