Where to Begin

Quote:

The boy was broken, and it was nothing less of what he deserved. Only a year old, and he was facing the same situation he did at home. He was used to it, but refused somehow to become numb. His disability made it easier to cope, he didn't have to hear their screeching voices, their painful banter because he was a failure. Various wounds covered his body, and he knew it was because the other Nia had taken control. He was useless, but the other Nia. He was cool, he was collective and ever so evil. Nia kept his head low, his shoulders ached, his paw pads crusted with blood the same as his beautiful white pelt.
His little rat companion on his back frowned, Tally was worried about his well being. But there wasn't much she could do for the small runt of a boy. Her ears perked as she spotted another wolf. Nia would look up to observe, his silent world coming into color with the brown male. His head tilted a little, even if that hurt. Was he another serf, or was he another one of those devilish wolves who had convinced him he would only amount to nothing but a slave with his traumatic experiences. He made a small hiss imitating a cat and laying flat on his stomach. No more pain, he didn't want to feel it anymore. He wanted to get strong, but it was so hard. His body wouldn't do what he would tell it to. Tally stroked him softly, but even now that wouldn't console him any longer.