Island of Secrets: Chapter 9 Carla helped herself to the food that Alder offered her. She was hungry enough that she didn't even notice how it tasted. "Thank you," she said to Alder. Alder nodded. Then the two of them went outside to get a drink from the stream. Carla suddenly wondered something. If no one found her for years, would she be different? Would she be more like a wolf than a human? She shivered. "Hey," said Carla, "Am I staying with you, or will I still be at the cave I found?" Alder said, (Well, I think you should stay with us. There'll be room for you in our den. But it is your choice.) Carla thought about it. "Uh. I think I want to stay with you. But can I bring my backpack? I don't want to leave it." It contained her sketchbook, colored pencils, her water bottle, snack wrapper, and a blanket, and her phone, which was broken. A few of those things could come in handy. Not all of them, to be fair, but she didn't want to leave it behind. And that was all she had left of her life before the island. Alder replied, (All right, you can get your things. Do you want me to come with, to help you find your way?) Carla shook her head. She would be fine. She set off towards the cave, while Alder went back to her den. Carla left the clearing the way they'd came in. She had a pretty good idea of how to get back- or so she'd thought, until she ended up getting lost. "Oh, great," she muttered. The cave was right by the beach. She could get there. Carla walked in a straight line until she got to the water. After glancing around, she started to walk around the whole island, keeping near the water. At last, she saw the cave. Carla picked up all of her stuff and put it in the backpack. Then she started walking. She wasn't exactly sure how to get back. That was probably going to be a problem. She sighed, and turned to look at the ocean again. She hoped she would be able to go home soon, not that Alder and her family didn't seem nice. Carla was able to find the way back. It wasn't as hard as she'd feared. Now that she was coming from the same direction as she had with Alder, it was easier. She was able to recognize things like large rocks and oddly shaped tree branches along the way. When she got back, Carla gulped. There were at least six wolves she didn't recognize around the clearing. Though Alder had said none of the wolves would hurt her, she was, of course, still a bit afraid of them. Luckily, she saw Alder sitting near her den and walked to her quickly. "Uh, hi Alder," Carla said. (You can put that in the den), Alder told her. "What?" said Carla. "Oh, my backpack. Yeah, thanks." She went into the den and shoved the bag in the back. As she exited, she said, "Wait, where's everyone else?" Alder stood up and took Carla to a little ways outside the clearing. Alder's pups, Iris and Cinnamon, were wrestling in a patch of grass. Buttercup, Alder's friend, was watching them. Carla and Alder went to sit by her. That was when it started to rain. Alder barked, and her pups stopped playing and stood up. Carla got to her feet as the wolves did. Alder said, (We're just going to go back to the den until the rain lets up.) Carla nodded and they walked back. Usually, Carla liked rain. But things were different, on the island. Mainly because she only had one set of clothes, including jean shorts, which would take forever to dry off, of course. When they got to the clearing, all the other wolves had dispersed to their separate dens. Carla followed Alder and the others into the cave. The four wolves curled up in their nests. Alder told Carla that they were going to sleep for a while. The wolves on this island weren't strictly nocturnal, they just slept whenever they felt like it. Carla didn't know how she was going to get used to that. She sat down and grabbed her sketchbook. She took out a pencil and started sketching. Often, Carla found art helped her sort through her feelings, and she would just draw whatever came to her mind. So she did end up drawing several wolves. When she was done, and was starting to feel tired herself, Carla did feel better. But what was she going to do when her sketchbook ran out of pages? She'd have to cross that bridge when she came to it. Obviously, it wasn't the end of the world to not be able to draw. But still. Carla was hoping she would be rescued by then. But then again, maybe she would never be rescued. There was a possibility that Carla would be stuck on the island forever.
