Can I keep it?

“Mumma, I’m over here!” He said as he heard his mothers voice. But the white wolf had already found him. He looked up at her liquid lavender eyes. The ones that kissed his scratches and told him everything would be okay. He had always believed her, and he believed that unspoken promise now. He carefully removed his wings from where they had wrapped around the little white creature. It was just a cub, a polar bear cub, but Wylan didn’t know that. He just knew that it was little, and injured.

“I’m not sure what it is, Mumma. But you can help it, right?” He asked, his voice soft, and he looked up at his mother. His eyes trusting, but worried, too. He didn’t like to see the creature in pain. Even as they looked down at it, it whimpered a little. Alive, but badly hurt.


"Speech"