too weary of life and deceptions

She spun around nervously at the voice. There stood a tall warrior man with several hues adorning his pelt, and olive eyes. "Yes. Well, I think so. I'm injured, but I think I'll be okay after just a little bit of time." She said. Runt was nervous to let strangers, especially scarred strong looking adults, see her so weakly. Runt hated being weak. She was desperate to get away from it- she had been weak as a tiny slave in the pack, weak as the runt of the litter. Now she was free, and she wanted to be strong.