By Nicole, 11
My mane was a deep, dark orange colour as it shone in the blazing hot sun, through the wild oak trees. My eyes were a rich red with anger , like the sunset clouds slowly drifting into the jaws of darkness.
The pain was razing through every limb in my terrified body. Night was falling and the sun was gently gliding down into the high hills in the distance. I knew that when morning struck I would die beneath the swift trees.
I waited minute after minute for the end to come. But suddenly a thick moist mist climbed over me. I could hear footsteps in the distance. The sound was creeping nearer and nearer.
Suddenly I was dazzled by the brightly lit sun. But as I squinted I could just make out a big, black, bulky figure. The figure was walking like an overgrown leopard creeping amongst the overgrowth.
The figure was carrying a huge gun as big as his fat legs. As the figure bent down he mumbled something inaudible. The figure undid the trap on my sore paw. Suddenly a bolt of strength hit me. I leapt up high and knocked the figure over. I ran as fast as lightning. Faster and faster I ran. I didn't know where I was going. But my paw was really hurting. Thistles and thorns ripped my sides.
Suddenly the ground beneath me swallowed me up , and I felt myself falling down, down, down ...
Click on the eye....
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