Dear Mom and Dad

Dear Mom and Dad,

   The purpose of writing this letter is to show off my reading and writing skills to Mom and Dad by answering this simple question the chief asked me: why do you love your family and hometown? It's silly, I know, but I want to show off my new skills! First off, I really, really, really love you guys! I am grateful I was born into a loving household with a beautiful mother and handsome father. I love how my mom knows exactly how spicy I like my curry and how to calm me down at night. I love my dad for being able to teach me how to hold and swing a sword even though mom says I'm too young to hold one. Our hometown is small but mighty, or at least the other cubs think that. Mae says her older brother left town to try and find work in the human towns to support her and her mom. I hope I can become as strong as him and leave the town to support you. The chief and other elders think us cubs are too rowdy for our own good. We got scolded again today for trying to steal some fruit from the old man, but we were able to run away and hide in the forest. That's where I'm writing this letter for you. It's getting dark and I know mom doesn't like when I'm late for dinner so this is where the letter ends. I hope my writing is impressive!

Love,
Rico

   I put the piece of charcoal down so I could fold the letter up into a neat square. I tucked it into the folds between my shirts before looking up and seeing the sky was already bright shades of orange and red. I ran through the trees towards the village, but my ears twitched on the top of my head as I heard faint screams and crying. I ran faster, arriving one of two entrances to town only to find blood and bodies littering the dirt street.

   Parents were shielding their children while humans used their swords to kill them. The people I grew up seeing were running around, trying to escape from the humans that invaded our home.

   I was able to sneak into town without being spotted amongst the chaos. The heat of the battle was taking place in the center square where the chief and some other men and women were fighting back. I could tell by watching from afar that the humans were more skilled with their swords, dodging or blocking our attacks. One by one the men started to fall at the hands of the humans.

   "It's over!" one of the humans called to the chief who now stood alone. "Put down your weapon and come peacefully!"

   "You humans are all the same!" the chief shouted at them. "You only take without giving anything in return!"

   "Blah blah," another human sighed. "We're just doing our jobs."

   "By massacring the town and our people?" the chief exclaimed.

   "We were only told to bring a wagon full back alive," a third human answered.

   "You humans are no better than demons!" the chief shouted, raising his sword.

   The humans had him surrounded, but he still put up a fight against them. Two were stabbed and another was wounded. The others overwhelmed him, and I watched in horror as the chief fell to the ground.

   One of the humans sighed, crouching next to the chief's body. He lifted the tail with the tip of his sword. "What a waste of beautiful fur."

   "Why don't you take some as a souvenir?" one of the other humans asked.

   "The fur of a half-wolf is not as durable as other half-beast hides I can hunt," the first human answered, standing back up and walking away with the rest of them.

   I watched from afar as the remaining half-wolves were loaded into a cell inside one of the wagons the humans had brought. They were chatting idly among themselves, helping themselves to anything that was left in the town square from the short battle.

   It was dark by the time the humans left the town completely.

   I waited extra long to make sure the humans were actually gone before daring to venture into town.

   Bruno, Caleb, Sammy, Kelly and Tetra. The bodies of all my friends I saw that afternoon were accounted for among the townspeople. Splatters of blood were everywhere, and most of the bodies were beasts I knew.

   At last I reached my own house. The door was broken, and the furniture inside was thrown onto the ground during the attack.

   And there they were.

   My parents lay in the kitchen, still as stone. A kitchen knife was in my mother's hand while my father's sword lay not far from his body.

   I slowly stepped towards them, my lip quivering as I tried to examine if they were really dead. When I couldn't hear a heartbeat or see their bodies moving, tears welled up in my eyes. I collapsed on my knees next to their bodies, the letter I wrote earlier falling out of the folds of my shirts. It began to soak up the blood under my mother's body, my tears escaping my eyes and heart wrenching sobs escaping my mouth.

   My letter lay on the ground next to me, never to be read by the people it was addressed to.

   I wiped my face, knowing no matter what kind of magic existed, there was no way to bring back the dead. Sniffing, I picked myself off the ground and grabbed one of the biggest bags we owned, stuffing it with clothes and food. I tucked the letter next to my heart before picking up my father's sword and then going to retrieve the sheath still tied to my father's belt.

   I tied it to my own belt, the end only a couple inches off the ground. I looked at my reflection through the flat side of the sword before sliding it into the sheath and walking out of the house.

   I would be back.

   I promise.