I was born a Pocklim. My parents were Pocklims, my grandparents were Pocklims, and my grandparents parents were Pocklims.
    I walked down the road of my city. The road I grew up on ever sense I was a kid. I never knew what dangers I would have to face until now.
   I walked towards the gates. The gates that border the city. The gates that protected us from the others.
But what's the point of gates if I'm the only one left? I wondered. I opened the gates with my hand which morphed into a large paw.
    I stepped out of the protected city and out into the unknown. The place I was told to stay away from for as long as I can remember.
    My plan was to travel a long ways. To find the forest of fog and find a lone Pocklim.
   I am Heather. I am 12 years old. I am not afraid of Lions, Tigers,or of Hissers.
   Though, I am lowest of the food chain, nothing stands a chance against me. It is my courage that keeps me going.