The Forest by Abhyankar A
An extract from The Forest by Abhyankar A., young author from SuperClubsPLUS, Young Author of the Year Tom loved coming to the Forest. He loved the Forest more than Mum or Dad, or his sister Julie did. He loved running about, with the wind in his hazel hair, climbing trees and making dens in secluded corners using fallen branches. This year, he had done the same. He had emerged from his bed, raced out of the ancient inn that his family were staying in and flew into the green, mossy congregation of wildlife. The leaves seemed to go on forever, and Tom could only see a few tree stumps, where wood had been used for bonfires. Tom climbed up his favourite tree, right in the middle of the forest, and rested on a high branch, the soft spring sunrise warming him. He watched as a bird darted off from the trees. Warning him, perhaps? Then he heard it. A slow, almost mournful howl, echoed around the Forest. Tom knew instantly what it was. Many had dismissed it as a myth, another stupid piece of folklore, but Tom believed it. The Last Wolf..."
