The years have always been very similar, the winter breeze becomes more frequent as I realize it. I no longer feel my skin wrinkle with the cold and strong wind, the snow hitting my body and dirtying my legs, eventually becoming water. The pulling of my bow's line, its wooden texture, my tilting and reclining, the sound of my wolves' paws along with their sniffing, all leading me to fire each arrow more precisely than the others, feeling as if my deepest ancestors hugged me and told me "You are strong, Anelise, you were always with them, has always been with us." I do this every day, every morning, to feel and to only find him in the afternoon: my caregiver.
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When i see, time has passed, their hunting seasons have begun, and the excess food they end up bringing to me. They are giants, so cute, I don't want them to have to deal with what I have to deal with every day, when I look at them I simply see innocence, as if I were looking into the eyes of children: their windows to the soul; pure, inert, seeming to wander blindly through the world with their smiles wide open and their eyes sharp. Observant, they are, like them, my puppies. I always stop in the fields to rest and think, helping my caregiver with his mood as he carries boxes and boxes of meat and offerings into the sanctuary, I always ask to stand behind his back but he is always too busy to let me do that. What worries me is what comes after.
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When you go hunting, your children become vulnerable: this is what I feel when autumn arrives and I need to see all that destruction. To move away from my puppies, from my caregiver, to say goodbye in my best clothes while taking only one puppy with me. He always howls worriedly, all of them, but they do everything I say without blinking. I go to meetings, i receive donations, say prayers and try to solve their political problems, all caused by such a simple conflict. I wonder why there is so much territory, it's not like they expand like us, it's not like they control what they consume; They are nothing like us. We work together, all of us, group together as a society should be. I no longer want to see their blood, their suffering, the fire, the drawings asking for peace, I want something better for everyone, like it was for me and my puppies.
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Fatigue consumes my body, autumn is by far the longest season. I arrive sweaty, tired, smelling of my puppies' damp fur, all I want is a shower, and that's what he always gives me, with some degree of pride no matter how much I sometimes refuse. Every now and then I cry, whether because I refuse to take a shower or because I remember everything I had to see and hear, I save the tears for the rest of the summer, just to sleep and wake up again in winter.
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To: Dad.
By: Anelise, your forgotten daughter.

Anelise is a young and disabled, paraplegic, girl that uses an pack of wolves, a werewolf and a bow and arrow to defend her home.

(automatically translated. please tag this.)

(sorry for the wolf on the summer image. i know i suck sometimes)