Disclaimer: I'm honestly not sure what to put here, so... Apart from Broken Arrow, I do not own the characters. Um... other legal stuff... If anyone has a better way to phrase this part, please let me know so I can update it.

Broken Arrow stepped into the house and the aroma of veggie stew washed over her. Her stomach growled again.

“Dinner will be ready in about 2 minutes, dear,” a doe called from the kitchen. She was tall and graceful, humming while she was working. Broken Arrow assumed she must be Mother. She stepped out of the kitchen and gasped.

“What is a wolf doing in here?” she asked, concern filling her voice.

“She was hungry, so I thought we could give her a meal and maybe a bed for tonight,” the gray rabbit replied.

“Are you crazy!” Mother exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

“One second,” he said to Mother. “Is it okay if you wait outside?” he asked, turning to Broken Arrow.

“Okay,” she replied, gnawing on a carrot. She sat down on the front step, swinging her legs and humming to herself.

Stepping back inside, he turned to Mother. “Can’t we help her tonight? She is so young and who knows, maybe she’ll return the favor.”

“A wolf!” Mother exclaimed. “Dear, I know you want to help, but you can’t trust a wolf. And she has wings!”

“Please, Sween,” he said, “Just trust me on this.”

She sighed. “Fine, Whittle. But, keep a close eye on her. You have no idea what she might do.”

Whittle turned to open the door and saw Broken Arrow with her ear pressed to the door. “Broken Arrow!” Whittle exclaimed, “You should know better.”

“Sorry,” she said, staring at her feet. Her stomach growled.

“Broken Arrow?” Sween asked, “How about, hm, Bailey?”

Broken Arrow’s smile grew. “I love it!” she exclaimed, hugging Sween. Sween gasped in surprise before gently patting her back.

“Well, Bailey, how about I get you washed up and Father will get dinner on the table?” Sween suggested after Bailey let go.

“Okay!” Bailey said, stepping forward and then stopped. “What do I call you?”

“Um…” Whittle said.

“How about we discuss that at dinner?” Sween said.

“That works,” Bailey replied. She followed Sween to the bathroom and Sween helped Bailey wash up. They came back to the dining room and Whittle had gotten five bowls of stew on the table. Two young kids were already there.

“Who’s dat?” the younger of the two, a young buck with golden-gray fur, asked, pointing at Bailey. He looked like he was slightly younger than Bailey.

“It’s not polite to point, Picket,” the older one, a white doe, said, pushing Picket’s arm down. She looked about a year or two older than her brother.

“Heather, you’re not my mother,” Picket whined.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t tell you not to be rude,” Heather replied.

“Yes, it does!” Picket said, getting louder.

“No, it doesn’t,” Heather said.

“Stop it, both of you,” Sween said. “This is Bailey and she will be staying with us the night.”

“She’s a wolf,” Picket said, pointing out the obvious. “Aren’t they bad?”

“The older wolves are,” Sween said, picking her words carefully, “but she is only a pup so you don’t need to worry about that.”

“How do you have wings?” Heather asked Bailey.

“I don’t know,” Bailey replied, glancing at her wing. She looked uncomfortable.

“How about we eat and stop interrogating our guest?” Whittle said. Bailey quickly started eating.

“Mmmm, this is really good,” Bailey said.

“Thank you,” Sween said, “It’s my grandmother’s recipe.”

After dinner, Picket and Heather ran off to play in the field. Bailey was about to join them when Whittle stopped her.

“Where are you going to go after tonight?” he asked.

Bailey shrugged. “I don’t know,” she admitted, “I don’t really know much about my family, and besides, I don’t really want to stay with other wolves.” She shuddered at the memory of where she used to live. The wolf pups were just cruel and, though they claimed to be her parents, she just knew they weren’t.

Whittle glanced over at Sween. “How about you go play with Heather and Picket?” she suggested.

“Okay!” Bailey exclaimed before running out to join the two rabbits tumbling around outside.

Once Bailey was out of earshot, Whittle turned to Sween. “We can’t just leave her on her own, can we?” he asked.

Sween looked out at the three kids playing in the field. “I know what you are saying, but can we have a wolf around the house?” Whittle could tell that she was worried.

“Maybe she can stay for a couple of days, and we see where it goes from there?” Whittle said. Sween nodded.

The kids came in and all sat around a roaring fire. Heather seemed to be a little warier of Bailey, but it was barely noticeable. Whittle sat down in his chair and started to tell them a story. After he finished, he stood up and made an announcement. “Bailey will be staying here for a couple of days. We’ll see how it goes, and if you would like, Bailey, you can stay here until you find a home of your own.”

“Thanks!” Bailey exclaimed. “I really had no idea where I would go otherwise.”

“No problem, now off to bed with all of you,” Whittle said. “It is way past your bedtime.”

I hope you guys liked it! The prologue felt a little too long, but I had a little more explaining to do, so I just made it two parts. Feel free to give feedback.