What are the odds?
The Golden Wood Pack? The one pack I will forever be indebted to. A place I found a roommate although I prefer not to have one. Him? Timothy Frank? My sweet Tim.
No matter how many times I say no, I can’t get his eyes out of my head. Furthermore, that night dad died is ingrained in my head forever. I won’t forget the color.
Normally, the wolf’s set of orbs’ color takes the human form of its owner. I am surprised how Tim’s wolf’s eyes are deep blue while his eyes when he is human are dark chocolate, reminding me of the sweet bar of chocolate.
I cover my ears with my palm, I hate my voice right now and I hope this simple gesture will take away the voice that is getting louder. I am not at the Golden Wood Pack for some sort of mission.
Tim, what should I do about you?
