Hyena Child

In the hot, wandering wilderness of Africa, we find Naieesha, a twelve year old girl who has been raised by a pack of hyena's her entire life.
When Thomas Walters, a man on safari, discovers this girl, he captures her and brings her home to his wealthy family in New York.
Things aren't always what they seem.
Lost and alone, Naieesha's behaviour is intolerable. She fights, eats with her hands, and will do anything to get back home to her beloved pack. Both her and The Walter's family are at their wits end. Can Lena Van Helsing, a teacher for the deaf and misunderstood, step in and save the day?


17. Chapter XVII - Naieesha's Perspective

Who was that female human.

Has she come to kill me too. Are all the humans, ganging up on me, like a pride of lions.

Night has fallen, and I am alone again. I am exhausted, but I am afraid to sleep because I know that a nightmare awaits. First, I have the comfort of home. The sunsets. The pups. My family.

But then  who do I see. Azubuike. The hunters, they have shot him. He is in pain. He is falling, falling, falling. He takes one last breath. Then he is gone. 

I hear screams. Mournful howls of my pack. And then I wake up.

I am sobbing, sobbing, sobbing into the cushy rock thing my face sinks into. Why does no one come. Does my pack not care anymore. Do they blame me for Azubuike's death. They should. It is my fault. I didn't protect him.

Still, why does no one come.

I hear a sound. The sound of the sleeping den's door opening. There is a flash of light.  Someone, I think is calling to me. Nai. eee. Shaa.

Is it my pack. Have they come for me at last.

I turn around. But no. It is not my pack. It is only, the tall, female human.

I snarl at her, thinking she will go away. But she doesn't. She creeps slowly into my room.

She is going to kill me. My time has come. Maybe it is better this way. Maybe I will see Azubuike up in the sky, and we will hunt and play together again.

The female human comes over to my sleeping rock. I squeeze my shut, letting the last of my tears spill onto the cushy thing.

But she hasn't come to kill me. No, she has come to lay with me. To comfort me.

That's why she is doing. She is laying with me, and stroking my backside. It feels good. 

I still continue to cry. I still miss home. I still miss my pack. Nothing can change that. 

But the woman's stroking feels so good, that eventually I fall into a deep, deep, sleep.

I dream of home. And only home.

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