Crippled. Ugly. Deformed. Cursed. All of these were things his previous pack had claimed him to be, all except his mother and father. The found him beautiful, just how he was. His mother had died shortly after birthing him, only alive long enough to tell him how much she loved him and that he would be fine in life. Wesley missed his mother and father dearly, and his adoptive mother as well. The alpha had cast him out as he was weaned, leaving him for dead. But Wesley was alive. Wesley was only a few weeks old, skinny and starving due to his disability and being unable to provide food for himself. It would take months to train a crippled pup how to hunt, if anybody ever came to the rescue.
The weak young boy hopped through the forest, blood dripping down his little wet pelt, pouring from wounds inflicted upon him by the alpha of his home and buzzards looking for an easy meal. He had survived it all, but was in bad condition. Yelping as he stumbled and thudded to the ground, his trembling form tumbled and rolled straight off of the slippery rock ledge of the falls, leaving him to crash to another slippery ledge before falling in the water.
Crying for help, the three legged half tailed pup splashed and paddled as much as he could, not wanting to give up, but in desperate need of rest. His tiny legs couldn't hold him above the surface for much longer, body already weak from lack of nutrition and sleep deprivation. Wesley gave a sharp yelp before his tiny head went under.
This is how I "Talktalktalk."
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