Archer: Chapter 3: Part 2 I rest a more immense limb in the median if the to fork on both sticks. I spear portions of flesh on the barbs. I roast the slabs of meat on the flame. Afterwards, I direct my attention to a heap of armory the wolf provided. I go to my bag again and pull out some yarn. I sit and begin stitching fangs together, after sewing the the bottom the root if the teeth to the bottom if a moderate sized branch. By the time i finish, the homemade meal is well-done. I take the meat off the cabob and devour it voraciously. I lean back agains the tree and chew slowly, and eventually drift away,

Archer: Chapter 3: Part 1 Archer: Chapter 3 A slight breeze whispers in my ear as the leaves dance. I close my eyes and set my arrow, breathe, and release. "Yelp!" A hit. I sniff, now opening my eyes. The wind shifts to my profit. North...West, about 30 yards. I walk toward the kill, holding my bow, prepared for any predator that may be gorging themselves on it. I come upon a Gray, Male, Timber wolf. Its tongue lay on the ground, a pool if blood surrounds it, the arrow through it's heart. I pick it up, and haul it back to the point of origin. I lay it next to the large tree. I aim upward, and fire ad arrow through the branches, knocking countless twigs and pinecones off it and they plummet to earth. I stack them in a pile and light a fire, the flames move whimsically across the brush. I dig in a bag thats hid in a hole inside of the tree. I pull out a machete, another object left behind by my father. I severe the wolf. Head, stomach, legs, claws, teeth, mouth, heart. I put the teeth and claws aside, and strip the flesh from the remaining body parts and drop the bones in a pile with the wolf's weapons. I grab to large sticks with a forked end and jab them in the dirt

Archer: Chapter 2 I sit in a tree, cars pass slowly as fog surrounds the are, almost blinding me. I stare into a deep,white, endless abyss. I hear a sound, 4 legs, a wolf. Most people would be stricken with terror, but for me, that's lunch.my father uses to take me in the woods and we would hunt using bow and arrows, and when we were done, we would hide them in a tree stump. I look at my fathers bow and arrow, a feeling of nostalgia creeps over, meanwhile goosebumps surf my skin in a vicious wave. My vision becomes blurry, an my eyes sting with hear behind them. I blink a few times to hold back the raging waterfall underneath. I manage to shake the feeling and grab the arrow, then hop down from at least 20 feet. The fog still blinds me from seeing even my own hand. I close my eyes and listen. Faint footsteps come toward me, as if hunting prey- hunting me.

Archer: Chapter 1 My dad came home, his suit was ripped, and his body drenched in blood. Mother took him into their room and began to whisper to him, whereas he could only mumble, transparently dazed. She put me to bed early, which presumably was to prevent me from eavesdropping on their conversation. I attempted to protest, but her stern eyes and firm voice seemed to be harder to break than diamond. A week had passed, and things had been going normally, but my father seemed more cautious and nervous. On Monday there was a knock at the door, mother and father looked at each other as if they saw superman get killed by a bunny. I was confused, for I had never seen my parents this way. My father stumbled to his feet, and fumbled to open the door, mother behind him, her eyes wide. Two men in suits stand at the door. "The boy leaves the room." One says as he looks at me.Mother puts me in the backyard, where I usually played. It was quiet, and I wish it would've stayed that way. Abruptly, i hear loud booms. My father screams in agony and my mothers shrieks. "ARCHER, RUN!" I run as fast I can, crying, confused, flustered. I sprinted into the forest behind out house. I looked up to find green giants surrounding me, and cold howl sway the branches. This was my new home.

Protocall: Chapter 1: Part 1 I trudged on, my legs felt like jelly, and my body drenched in perspiration. I was at least a quarter of a mile behind my fellow brethren militants. By the time I finished, everyone was in line, whereas I was just arriving. "What took you so long Baker?" Commander Rischer walked to me taking his time, his piercing blue eyes and his face alone daunted me. "Cat got your tongue? Answer your Commander boy!" He demanded, his voice booming louder than a atomic bomb, making him more intimidating. "I-My Legs-" My voice trailed off. "Since you can't tell me, you can run an extra mile tomorrow, and while your at it, learn to use your voice. Alright men, sessions over, be out by 50 tomorrow, you'll have 10 miles, others of you have 11." He paused to look at me then blew his whistle and a sea of green and muscle flooded into a metroplex of housing garages, each with a letter and number dully graved on the front. I struggled to to make it to the hub without without collapsing. Miraculously, i made it into the room, only to be aggressively rammed by a shoulder. Larry pushed pass me and layed on the top bunk, which was supposed to be mine. I didn't reject and fell on the bottom bunk, which smelled heavily of mold, socks, and underwear. Why did i even do this.