[fancypost borderwidth=0][justify]He was at the age where he did not know the cruelties of judgment or restrictions. He was parent-less, his mother having yet to return from leading an attacker away, and his father, well, he did not even know who or what his father was. Despite that, he held on hope that his mother would come back, but the truth was: She was not coming back. Having gathered sticks, stones, and a battered rope, he threw everything onto a sled made out of bark and created a harness that he slipped through and pulled his sled full of objects around.
"I know your heart been broke again
I know your prayers ain’t been answered yet
I know you’re feeling like you got nothing left
Well, lift your head, it ain’t over yet, ain’t over yet so,"
Coming to a rather large tree, he set up a stick and tied part of the rope to it before he ran the rope to his next stop: a creek.
"Move, keep walkin’ soldier keep movin’ on
Move, keep walkin’ until the mornin’ comes
Move, keep walkin’ soldier keep movin’ on
And lift your head, it ain’t over yet, ain’t over yet."
He did the same thing, but used a rock instead of a stick due to the hard surface. The rope was unstable and could easily be brought down with a tug, but he had no intentions of pulling on it.
"Hold on, hold on
Lord ain’t finished yet
Hold on, hold on
He’ll get you through this
Hold on, hold on
These are the promises
I never will forget."
Finally, after five more stops did he complete his small project. Harness still pressed against his body as he dragged the sled along the rope, he beamed happily, tail wagging with joy. This would be fun, as long as nobody messed with the rope.