This is the modified prologue of my story about hawkheart. I was going to submit the microsoft word document of this, but it won't let me (idk why, if you can solve my prob, plz let me know) so, instead i submited the prologue in my journal as sort of a teaser until then. I hope you enjoy, and plz if you can, critiqe, comment, fangirl,hate, or whatever in the comments section! or else he will get you! >

Snow pounded through the blowing wind, cascading around the stunted trees and blackened terrain. A dark shadow flitted through the hail and ice, faintly outlined in the vague dawn light. The shadow gripped a bedraggled sack in its left hand. Blood dripped down the fingers from canine shaped bite marks, and ran over the soft folds of the bag.
The sack let out a sullen wail, wild with fear, hunger, and pain. The moaning died down, as if the creature inside realized that his pitiful wailing was not helping his cause.
The destination of the man with the sack was only a few short meters ahead, much to his captive's dismay. The large building he was headed for was decrepit and dirty, crumpled and ruined with age. The air was tainted with the stale scent of animals: musk, salty blood, and more distinct and sharp than the other scents, fear.
As the man stepped inside the cold building, though not as frigid as it was outside, the bag let out a despaired whimper. The animal inside, a young wolf, could smell the stale scent of fear and blood that clung to the freezing air like mist. He knew, even without being able to see, what awaited him in this place. He had been told stories of the terrible fate that awaited all those wolves who dared to venture out alone. He remembered what had happened to his brother just one short moon before.
The man lit the room with a small candle, and the rows of cages, roughly twelve in all, were instantly illuminated. The bars were old and rusted, the hinges falling off. Each one was in an advanced state of ruin, but even at that, they were still a deadly prison to all those who had the misfortune of being held captive there.
The prisoners included two small monkeys, lying still and silent in their cages, a mouse the colour of ashes, a tiger cub, and three crooning chickens. In the cage the furthest away, glowing dimly in the candle light, was another wolf.
The other wolf was an odd blackish grey colour, with a bright pink and red tuft of fur just above his head. Both his paws held shackles, and he had a spiked dog collar. The tail of this new wolf was interlaced with the same red and new maroon tints, and his paws were a lighter shade of the grey black colour. He opened one red eye to stare at the new comer, then shut it again in fear.
The human ignored the creature, untied the sack, and grabbed his prisoner by the scruff of the neck. Even in the faint, flickering light cast by the candle, now moved to the windowsill, the ominous markings on the young wolf's pelt were clear.
His trembling throat and stomach were the colour of freshly spilled blood, his muzzle tainted similarly. The fluffy, coiling tail that was wrapped around his maroon paws was banded black and red. A mysterious black paw print was splayed out across his haunch as well.
The wolf let out a long, heart-piercing wail, the kind that sent shivers trembling down the spine, and caused tears to well in the eye. As if in response, the candle on the window sill let out one last, feeble puff of smoke, then choked out.