C10 Rowan

I whistle a tune my human mother taught me as I snatch a bagel as hard as cement from the cafeteria and a small carton of milk for breakfast. Time to do as I promised Shaye and get her out of the fight pits. Don’t care what dear old Dad said, she’s mine and I won’t allow her to be in danger.

Mine.

I like the sound of that. The word tastes sweet in my mouth, like honey from the southern fields