Mama was always the prettiest of all the ladies in the village. Wherever she went, people would stop and stare at her. Her long and dark hair, her shiny turquoise eyes that sparkled like polished stones, everything about her made people stare. Most of the other ladies didn't like it, just like how most of the men didn't like me. I kept them from going after my mama, but she never seemed to care.
"I don't need their affection," Mama would say. "It's like a cherry blossom, here for a moment but gone all too quickly. What need do I have for their blossoms when I have you, my little pup."
That always made me smile. I miss those days.
Mama can't do stuff like that anymore. I hear the nurses say I'm getting better, but Mama still looks so sick. Her skin is pale and tinted yellow, and she always complains about being too cold. There are more wrinkles on her skin, and dark circles beneath her eyes. Her hair is all tangled now, a lot thinner than it was before.
None of the men from the village come by to see her now. They think of her just like how she thinks of their love; pretty and here for a moment, but say she will be gone all too quickly. If they think of her like that, then she doesn't need them.
"I love you," I whisper to her. "No matter what, you're always going to be my pretty mama."
It's only when she smiles that I get to see the sparkle in her eyes. Even they look duller, now. Mama reaches one of her hands over to me, squeezing my hand. Her grip isn't as tight as it was yesterday. Her voice is weak, but it's still her voice.
"I love you too, my little pup."
YOU ARE READING
Hunter of Midnight
FantasiWhat are we to the Gods? Growing up homeless and orphaned in Kavia, the question never bothered Ari Dalthus. As far as he knew, the Gods could care less about mortals; if they were really there, that is. The Gods are present in Eqular, however, and...
