Stitches

Trip wondered what life was, was it just a dream? Haha. He wished. He grabbed a knife and stuck it in his mouth as he wondered throughout the woods. Often he would sleep with it, just in case. He wondered some more as he placed one paw in front of the other. He heard a rustle, and a rabbit leaped in front of him. "Stupid rabbit," he muttered, nostrils filled with the scent of pine. "I'm starving-what the neck?" He heard another rustle, this time behind him. His younger brother, Castin, lunged in front of him, jaws full of a fish. "Damn it! You scared me you little buttnugget!" Castin flopped on his back, laughing. "Looks like I got the first catch today!" He grinned, flinging the fish on the side. "And Mother says not to swear," he flashed his brilliant hazel puppy eyes. "We're to get our first stitches today, and swearing means BAD luck." Trip thought about the stitches, how every year each young pup would get a number stitched on their paw to represent their back. "A nine," Trip thought. "That's the number I'll get."

Hey guys, I decided to wait before I continued it, just tell me if you liked it or if I should continue it in the comments. I just want to make sure.