Dullahan

2 - A Tragedy - 3

After a few minutes, his mother straightened, breaking the immediate contact, and pulled the door closed. Eldred continued to cling to her, his breathing uneven and face smeared with tears and snot. She checked him for injuries, tutting at the fresh scratches on his limbs and pursing her lips when she saw the torn coat and trouser leg. When she was satisfied that he was not in immediate danger, she spoke.

"Come now," she coaxed, guiding him toward the table, "Sit with me and tell me what happened."

And he did. She sat down in one chair and offered her lap, and he climbed up to sit on her knee as she cradled him in her arms, rough hands clasped around his side. He struggled to start, at first talking about what they had been doing that day, and then jumping back and talking about yesterday, the story coming out as a tangled mess interrupted regularly by his hiccoughing breaths and sniffles.

A few minutes into his first attempt, she stopped him, "Take a deep breath now," she said soothingly, tucking a strand of his hair away from his eyes. "Tell me what happened yesterday, and then you can tell me what happened today."

He stuttered a few more times, and after a while the story started to come out smoothly. His voice gained confidence as he went, and as his breathing came back under his control, and he told her of how the three of them had gathered sticks and branches, and how he had noticed everything seemed to quiet. He told her of the dog's first appearance, and the chase that ensued. He told her about how it had focused on him, about how he had run and run and run, and then found the burrow beneath the tree. He told her how scared he had been, how terrifying it had been to see the creature's head pushing into the space that he had hoped would be safe. He told her about how it had stopped all of a sudden, wary of something else in the forest, and then about how it had left. Then he told her about how he had not wanted to tell her what had happened, about how it had seemed like everything was fine, that he didn't want to be stopped from going into the woods, that he was sure it wouldn't happen again, and about how he regretted that he didn't tell her.

She listened, and when he stopped to catch his breath, she spoke. "What happened today?" she asked, looking at him with growing concern.

He'd been unable to meet her eyes again, and it took him a few moments of consideration before he had figured out where to pick up. He started by talking about the armoured figure- about how he'd seen the horse outside, and then he told her of finding his friends, and how none of them had told their parents either, and that they had all gone to the forest. He told her of the fort they had made, revelling for a few brief moments in what they had made. Then he told her of the dog's reappearance, and then of the other dog. Then their desperate flight, the terror that had risen again. He told her of how May had tripped, and how he could see the dogs gaining on them, how he knew he'd had to do something. He told her that he had run again, and the dogs had followed, and he had made it back to his hiding spot.

He told her about how scared he had been, and she stroked his hair when he went silent, tears welling again in his eyes at the memory. She reassured him, holding him tightly and telling him it was okay, he didn't need to say any more- she understood what had happened.

Then he told her about how the figure had come to his rescue.

"-And they weren't moving anymore. And she said- she said she'd come because of dad, and then she told me to come home, and I did." The end to his story came out in a rush, the words tumbling out uninvited and uncontrolled, and he was left breathing unevenly and leaning against his mother, staring into the fire that crackled at the other side of the room.

She didn't speak for a while, just holding him tightly and stroking his head soothingly. When she did speak, her tone was odd- there was a scolding note to it, but it lacked the edge of anger that he had thought she would use. "You foolish boy," she said, resting her head on his, "You should have told me yesterday."