The gun shot roared across the forest. Shadow went down, breathing heavily. They have hurt me with their iron weapons, was all that could cross his mind. He made an effort to get up, and, he did so, on three legs. His right front leg was what the bullet caught. Looking up he noticed the men were closer then before. Shadow jumped back, to avoid any more trouble these men can cause. He steered back and limped to trees, ignoring the pain that surged through his leg. He heard one of the hunters yell out to him, and quickened his pace.

"I'm gonna die, if I leave my wound exposed any longer." Shadow said, realizing that an infection could start soon.

Shadow walked further and further into the night, not daring to turn back and beg for help like a helpless pup. His father had taught him to face his troubles. And ever since he died, Shadow swore that he would do all that his father had told him. On and on he walked, until the morning sun peeked over the tree tops, he collapsed on the hard ground. A slight thought passed through his mind, saying 'I must find some kind of help, and soon!' But Shadow pushed it away, knowing how stubborn he could be at times. As he lie there, listening to the sweet sounds of the forest, he slipped into a deep, dark sleep.

Shadow's eyes shot open, awakening in mid-day. Only to see three wolves staring down at his weak body.