Day-Lynx (EDITING)

More than Twenty-One Reasons to Live

❄

Three nights have passed since Rozell discovered Grandma's remains.

Yet, every time Rozell returns into his human form and heads back to the cottage, he still can't get used to the sight of visitors at the porch. Different faces greet his grandpa each day. And after their departure, dozens of baskets filled with goods, soothing oils, condolence letters, snapdragon wreaths, and other trinkets always line down the steps.

But Grandpa often remains quiet at their reassurance.

On the fourth day since the discovery, Ma and Mielle drag Da to the cottage for the small feast to welcome him back. But he won't stop spurting out questions during the dinner.

"Why didn't we ask the villagers to bury her somewhere more proper?" Da asks. "And have they retrieved everything from that cave?"

"Her healing box is all that remains," Ma quickly interrupts, as if sensing Grandpa's unsteady emotions. She also shoots Da a warning glare as she scoops a spoonful of soup into her mouth.

But though Da tries to steer off the topic, it still isn't far enough. "What about the beast then? Everyone was amazed at how heroic it was. And how it seemed pretty human."

Mielle jumps on the topic as quickly as a lynx on its prey. "I saw it with my eyes at Mountkirk. Everyone was threatening it with their weapons, but it didn't even lunge at any of us."

"But it had killed young Tesfaye," Ma argues.

"No, it hadn't." The cottage falls silent when Grandpa's voice echoes from Rozell's side, allowing him to breathe in relief. "The Chief came to me this morning, informing me that the tooth found in the funeral hut didn't belong to the beast. It had come from the hunters' teethed belt, though it's still unknown who last held the weapon."

"Does the Chief or the hunters have anyone to suspect?" Da gingerly spoons his soup into his mouth, never peeling his gaze away from Grandpa.

It's like there's a heavy storm cloud above Grandpa's head, for he seems gloomier than usual. "I don't know for sure, but the Chief only has two names in his list: Oxen and Mr. Clam. So far, none of them gives a reliable statement of when they last used the weapon."

❄❄

Once the family returns to their Avoridge hut, Rozell sneaks out with his paintgraphing equipment. The outside air smells of wet leaves and fog, reminding Rozell of the heavy stench in Grandma's cave.

Even three nights after they set Grandma in peace, thoughts of her still won't leave him. And despite all her past misbehaviors, he's still determined to dedicate a paintgraph for her.

But it turns out that he isn't the only one seeking solace tonight.

Rozell turns his head aside to find Grandpa with his fingers taut above his knees and eyes lost somewhere between the trees. "Why didn't you spill everything on the dinner table, boy? Are you going to wait for another sixteen years?" Grandpa snickers halfheartedly, patting the empty seat next to him. "Sorry, I didn't mean it. But I hope once the truth is out, they can accept you better than I did."

"Better? You have the best response so far."

"Out of zero others? Who are you kidding with?" Grandpa's grin blooms wider. "Look, I haven't got to say this before, but thank you for helping me find your grandma. Even when no one else had lent a hand after these seventeen years."

A warm blush creeps up Rozell's cheeks. "She came with the one who had revived me, showing snippets of her important memories which hinted her final resting place."