What do you think of my story, please read?

She was part of a pack of Canis Lupus Lupus’s (or for those who aren’t mad about the beauty and loyal ness of the Canis Lupus Lupus and it’s long majestic strides or it’s razor-sharp pearly-white choppers, it is also known in simpler terms, for wolf-haters, the Timber wolf – or, if you’re not the brightest star in the sky, the Grey wolf). Shadoew had been around her pack from when she was one year old. She knew her birthday was on midsummer’s day (20th June), but that was practically all she knew of her past except for 2 blurry faces, one man, one woman, although she couldn’t remember the man’s voice, she remembered him saying ‘Shadoew Wren’ and she was adamant that this was her name and 2 items she had been left with; a tin dog whistle and a shard of gemstone that seemed to change colour according to her mood. They were her prized possessions. She had a suspicion they meant something like a clue to her past.