A couple of feet from the werewolf tribe laid a young werewolf named Chris. He had his back pressed against a fairly large boulder that sat in the meadows. Chris always hung out in this spot,because for some odd reason, it made him at ease. The young wolf stare east of the tribe,because that was the easiest route to the country..his real home. Chris remembered when he was younger,him and his friends would sneak to play with creatures that lived in heart of the huge city. He couldn't stand them being chained up shackles or cuffed with muzzles on their mouths. His feelings about the captive creatures soon change after one little wolf had bit him on his hand. Chris never thought it would turn his life upside down. He did have everything he ever wanted, both parents,an older brother,and some dazzling friends who where not trouble makers.