The Wolf-Personal Narrative

The wolf was chasing me through the woods, getting closer and closer as I tried my best to scramble through the woods towards the town. Surely someone will help me fend off the beast. I kept running

towards the town, stumbling over obstacles and trying my best to see ahead of me with the fading daylight. The wolf seems to be growing bigger and bigger, I can almost hear its ragged breath. It seems like

I’ve been running forever but in truth, it should have only be five minutes. As I turn with the bend I see the town far in the distance, at least another four minutes of running if I were to sprint at full speed but,

at this stage I can barely breath. There is no way I can make it close enough to grab someone's attention. My mind starts racing,
It had rows behind rows of teeth, all of which looked fragile. As it pulled me under the fallen tree back to the path my hand

caught onto something solid, I cling to it desperately trying delay my doom even if it was for a few seconds. It tugged and shook my leg hard giving me waves of pain, almost making me want to get it over

sooner but my fear of dieing is stronger so I desperately cling to the object. I could feel the object cutting into my hand as I opened my eyes to look at it. It was just a rock jutting out of the muddy ground. It

looks solid but every so slowly it was being uprooted. I looked back at the wolf and saw the countless teeth puncturing my right leg. At last the rock gave out and I was dragged back onto the path, rock in

hand. The beast released my leg and stared at me, or at least its face was pointed at mine. As a final attempt I yelled while lifting the rock and swinging at the beast. As the rock rose from the ground I lost my

grip and it went flying towards the wolf. As I had released it too early it was low to the ground but sure enough the beast whose eyes were all white could really not see. The rock slowly made its way to
Which paw it landed on I had no idea because I was already crawling my way back to the tree. The beast that cannot be called a wolf howled as I dragged myself forward. My only

thoughts were to get to safety and hoping the the howl was one of pain. I painfully made my way back to the tree and with much effort pulled myself onto a branch about a meter from the ground. I relaxed my

sore body and warily looked at my surroundings. The beast was slowly hobbling over to the tree, frothing at its mouth. Although my body was worn out my mind was still working as the ordeal hadn’t lasted

more than fifteen minutes as far as I could tell. “How does it know where I am if it can’t see?” I say aloud to myself. The beast isn’t even sniffing the surroundings for my scent, it's like it has a compass

pointing at me. As the wolf slowly made its way over to tree i’m on I started to feel insecure. I raised my head, looking for another branch slightly higher and hoisted myself onto the branch. My right foot

throbbed in pain as tree bark rubbed against the multiple punctures wounds but I gritted my teeth and positioned it more comfortably. As I watched the beast attack the tree, trying to get closer to me,