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Emma’s Page |
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Ethiopian wolf that I drew. |
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Home ~~~ Welcome to my Page! |
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Alone: Prologue Under an acacia tree on the plains of Ethiopia, four canines rested. With the shade from the leaves overhead and the shadow of the Bale mountain they were content. They had finished their hunt and their stomachs were now plump with rodents. Across the plains, birds started to call in alarm and the Ethiopian wolves pricked their ears. Their red-brown fur was glimmering in Africa's sun, their big ears twitched to listen to the warnings, and their noses sniffed for danger. He sniffed her over, confused as to why she decided to sleep now. Then, the soft sound of air being split through came again and the male felt something thump into his left shoulder. His surprised bark turned into a whine as he curled beside his tranquilized mate, his sight blurring. By the time the crates and the men were on the ship, the four wolves were frantic underneath the tarp that had been placed over top of them before they had reached the town. They whined and whimpered and, more than once, one of the men on board the enormous ship kicked the cages to make the wolves be quiet. Sometime during the night the ship began to get pushed around wildly by vicious waves. The tarp was pulled off by powerful gusts of wind and rain pounded the Ethiopian wolves, protected by nothing except their durability and stubbornness. The cargo surrounding them shoved and battered the sleek metal cage. The occupants of the cage only let small whines escape for they had faced many wet AND dry seasons that had been worse than this. The only different thing now was that they were on a giant water-walking thing in the middle of a vast body of water. But the storm wasn't all bad. Though painful, the rain would give them water and would give the cage a much needed cleaning. And by making the crates slam again and again into the cages one of the locks broke off. The door was slightly stuck but a couple nudges could make it pop wide open. The two wolves in the cage were smart enough not to escape while there was a storm and they had nowhere to run to. Yet, the other lock was still intact though a little rusted and, hope as they might, the storm stopped before the lock could brake. So, there the wolves sat, drenched and depressed at the outcome of one pair having freedom while the other stayed and suffered in a zoo, without the freedom of the wilderness surrounding them. They had never had to be away from their home until now and they wished for the long, tickling savanna grass, the warm African sun, and the pleasant, homey scent of the den. But here they were, stuck on a ship that smelled of dead fish and sea salt, while gulls laughed at the boat's prisoners as they glided along air currents. The man who had driven the jeep yelled, "You check the other cage!" as he went running after the sprinting wolves. The other man looked at the caged animals and the same feeling ha had had as they away from the savanna swept over him once more. He stepped cautiously over to the cage and felt the keys to the lock in his pocket. When the man came back empty handed, because the other pair had been clever enough to go the other way, he stared dumbfounded at the now two empty cages in the back of the transportation truck. After a few seconds of silence he raged at the other man about how the wolves got loose and his anger grew as his partner told him the excuse. But the now non-guilty man didn't care because his heart felt lighter at knowing the wolves would be free again. |

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Hidden Hidden amongst the grass and weeds, two eyes, big and round, peered out. Watching the strangers as they sit and scribble on notebooks. He is a master of hiding and, when all else fails, fleeing. He has long ears that twitch and flinch when there are sounds... or bugs. Under a rock, in a small dip, he nibbles on twigs and clover. Nervous, wary, he sights the group of people. Just sitting there, sometimes staring into space as if looking for something not visible. He watches as dragonflies appear so close to the writers that they could touch them, yet they don't. He wonders how the dragonfly does not sense danger like he does. As he listens to the water pour from rock to rock and into the river below, he wonders if the strange beings ARE dangerous... or if it's just because of his nature as a rabbit.
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Moth Sitting here. Sarcasm. |
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River Cascading falls, roaring water, shining bubbles, as the river flows. Glistening brown rocks, slippery with moss and algae as white foam goes over and down, dribbling without care. Lichen and ivy cling to over hanging rocks, dipping their leaves, lovingly, into the water. Black birds hopping along the stones peeking out from the river bottom. Tall trees growing alongside the rushing, hurrying falls. Dragonflies touching, skimming the water and daring back and forth. The writing on this page, shimmering a thousand white and silver sparkles, as the river flows to its destination and runs through its definition on the striped paper. |
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The Forest Green, orange, yellow, red leaves of the surrounding trees, shadows of hidden creatures. The sweet chirping songs of birds in the morning. Rainbow colored flowers resting at the foot of the trees. Crisp, perfect, clear air of the wild expanse. Cool breezes, soft leaves, and firm ground. The Forest
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