Sky was tired, but he felt someone picking him up and carrying him. Who was this person that was carrying him? Why couldn't he have been left in the rain? His home was the box, and even if it were soaked, he would still live in it. It  had been where he grew up from, where he was born and raised alone. That broken box was his only means of home, and he had no family. His parents were taken away and used for Dog Fighting. All his siblings were taken and used to be trained for Dog Fighting. He was the only one that his mother could hide, and he was the only one that survived.<br/><br/>He found himself in a old house, and a fireplace slowly warming him up. His ears became alert as he looked around, then felt someone scratching behind his ears.<span style="font-style: italic">Oh... that feels so nice..</span>he thought. Slowly though, he sat up, looking around the room. He had always seen this house, but never had been inside it, for it had always been a place he never did want to venture into.<br/><br/>Upstairs, the wolf that was almost motionless and quite dirty had soon shifted back into it's human form. His energy was draining from himself almost completely. The boy looked to be about 16 or 17 so and he wore a black sleeveless leather vest, a white muscle shirt underneath, a pair of jeans that was secured on with a tight belt and some black boots with insoles. He was sporting a Faux Hawk as well, and it looked neat and well made too. He looked rather dead almost, and the dirt and dust surely did cover him still, as well as the cuts all over his body.