I`m running, and I don`t know what`s happening. Why, why? I try to shout, but I can`t speak. The leaves of drooping trees smack my face in an attempt to slow me down, and their roots seem to move into my path, causing me to stumble repeatedly. A stick snaps behind me, and I know they`re coming for me, growling from the shadows. I begin to cry as I realize there is no escape. Eyes gleaming with malice and hunger, slobber dripping from ivory fangs that gleam in the moonlight, the wolves close in. With a horrible, bloodcurdling growl, one of them leaps for me, teeth closing around me throat. I can`t breath, I can`t-

 "Get up, Madison! You`re making us all wait for you!" A furious eight-year-old yanked me from my nightmare, which, although my little sister annoyed me beyond belief, I was grateful for. My heart is still trying to escape from my chest, fluttering like a startled bird in a cage. Beside me, in my sleeping bag, I feel my dog Rafiki (yes, like The Lion King; don`t ask) shake himself awake. He yawns, stretches, and hops off the bed to investigate the now-empty household, as he has done every morning all week. I shiver as I notice how similar he is to the monster in my dreams, with his pointed ears and rugged build. The only difference is his size and fur- that blessedly red, silver, blue and black fur that sets me at ease the moment I see it.