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2018 MCAS
Grade 6 English Language Arts
Question 7

Idea Development - Score Point 5

The narrative is insightfully developed from the mother's point of view. The idea of the mother's affinity for Runt is well connected to the mother's character and supported by dialogue between her and King: "For now, we will treat him [Runt] just as we treat Leader, or Sniffer, or any of the other pups. With respect." and "But if you must, you can believe in him." The writer skillfully integrates events with the emotional qualities of the characters; for example, "…said King carelessly, but with eyes that revealed his sorrow for angering me." The writing conveys skillful organization that maintains the narrative's emotional quality from the mother's point of view, and tension builds through the conclusion. The narrative evidences rich expression of ideas and shows full awareness of the mode.

Standard English Conventions - Score Point 3

The narrative displays a variety of sentence structures relative to length and complexity. The writing demonstrates consistent control of grammar, usage, and mechanics. The essay also uses complex vocabulary and demonstrates consistently correct spelling ("abundance," "overwhelmed," "inquisitive," "inherited," "persisted," "heaviness," etc.).
Answer for Idea Development Score Point 5, and Standard English Conventions Score Point 3 I watched as my pups slowly grew in the dark den. Their eyes opened, and their needle-like teeth sprung from their gums. It was such a joy to see them grow. Soon they were trippling their size every week. But as they grew in size and strength, and began wrestling about on the ground of the den, my strength was saping. I could only eat what King brought in for me, and could only drink what I got from the lake when I managed to escape my duty as mother. I swiftly padded over to the lake, and lapped up the glorious water I hadn't tasted for two days. King padded over, and said, "What shall we do with the runt? Surely he will not survive long, for he is weak. Not only will he not be capable of hunting on his own, but other wolves will never respect him. I do wish Leader, or any of the other pups, had inherited my coat. It is a shame to have only one's runt with one's fine looks." I couldn't help letting loose a low growl at this. He couldn't possibly know what a lovely, bright creature Runt was. "Runt may be small, but he is really quite kind, inquisitive, and bright. I'm sure the very day he runs from the den he will impress everyone he meets, including you. For now, we will treat him just as we treat Leader, or Sniffer, or any of the other pups. With respect." I stated, my lips held back slightly to present my long, dagger-like canines as a challenge. King tossed his great glossy black head back and scoffed. "You think Runt will run from the den? That little thing can hardly waddle! You say he is kind, inquisitive, and bright, and perhaps that may be, you are right, I don't know him well. But I do know that although those are great and fine qualities, to be successful he will also need size. Without strength, even if he uses his brain to think of a great hunting plan, still he will not be able to take down his prey. But if you must, you can believe in him." said King carelessly, but with eyes that revealed his sorrow for angering me. I hurried back to my den in case the pups noticed my absence, and their was no further discussion of Runt. They grew, their fury bodies constantly tussling about, always eager to slurp down my milk. Poor Runt, he is the most darling of the pups. To King's great disapointment, he is the only one that shares his father's glossy black fur. Runt is the smallest and weakest, and it seems he will never be of great size, like the father whom's coat he takes after, or as his siblings soon will be. Whenever he is hungry and goes for the best teat, he is pushed aside. Runt is so clueless, for I don't wish to share the news with him that as a runt, it is unlikely he will acomplish great things. In truth, I even hide the reality from myself. King has either noticed my abundance of love for the little runt, or he has forgotten about him, as the topic has not come up again. Soon the pups will have to go outside and face the world beyond. One day King entered, and he whispered, "Is it time yet?" I was ever grateful to hear this since I had been growing weaker lately as the pups drank even more of my milk. "Yes!" I whispered back. King left the den, and then I turned to my wrestling pups and said, "Pups, come. Come outside." Most of the pups ran out, stumbling a little, but still running. Runt waddled out last, and blinked at the sun, overwhelmed by the scene. After a few moments he eagerly asked, "What is that, Mother? And that, and that?" I answered, and watched as his bright little eyes gazed at everything, and I answered his endless questions as his siblings tussled in the grass. Then the two yearlings surrounded all the pups, and began dancing around them and chanting their names. I gazed around at the lovely scenery I adored but had been hidden from for weeks and weeks. Then suddenly Raven swooped down to meet the pups. Raven was a confusing combination of bold, curious, unrespectful, and clever. Raven began conversing with Runt, and to my pleasure he said, "But still, small can be brave fierce." King had been wrong, Raven thought something of my runt, even though he noticed his small stature. Runt still had not answered the raven's question of his name, and was evidently waiting for me or King to for him. Runt had always accepted being smallest and weakest, but now he would have to accept that being runt would earn him little respect. The air was tense and heavy now, and Raven kept adding to it, mentioning Runt's lack of speaking, and then he insulted King, saying, "After you? How could that be? He has such intelligent eyes. And his feathers...they're so black and glossy." Finally King jumped in and growled, "Fur! My son has fur!" But Raven persisted speaking, and brought up names that Runt coudn't possibly have, like Star, and Prince. I looked away, for I couldn't help help him. He needed to learn who he is, and his place in the world. Finally, at last, he declared, "My name is Runt. They call me Runt." And the heaviness left the air.



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