Connell

Chapter Three

~

We are both quietly laying in the middle of the large boulder, letting the sun's warmth seep into our skin for as long as it will allow. Kota has slipped on my freshly cleaned shirt and is tightly snuggled up into his rabbit's dry fur. His head is resting on the top of my chest, little fingers lightly tracing my collarbone. The heat of the sun is making us both too lazy to do anything else.

After healing Kota, I begin to feel the heavy lull of my bones keeping me motionless. Healing him tires me, nearly draining all movement. I spare my energy for his, fixing the wounds that I can't possibly bear seeing upon his skin.

Giving away a piece of me each time, to never reclaim, is most definitely debilitating, yet I promised myself to never dare complain. Because if I find a way to somehow keep my child from feeling pain, even for a little while, I will take that chance and use it all up until it's gone.

I remain staring blankly at the cloudless sky, the hues are now a faint orange, and I contemplate whether or not I should try to get up and go search for food. I was lucky enough yesterday, and the luck seemed to stick with me throughout today, so maybe some miracle will roll around and I'll catch a white-tailed deer for supper.

But the tiredness is heavy in the back of my mind, and it makes me second guess going at all. I don't want to leave Kota alone. The days we don't eat are often the days I just can't find it in me to leave him—the days that are spent thinking of him not being there when I return.

We are both used to going a few days without food, only munching on the limited berries that are near, and that thought alone only adds to my walls of shame. My guilt eats at me from the inside out. It leaves my stomach hollow.

But I don't think that I'm a bad mother. My wolf will not allow me to think such a thing anymore. It's such a haunting thought that was sewn into me for the first two years of Kota's life. Right from the beginning, I was alone, and I still am alone.

I remember forcing myself to eat the berries, the bittersweet nothingness day after day, because if I didn't, Kota would be the one who suffered.

I wanted to die, I wanted to give in to the blissful state, to give my soul to the Moon Herself.

Every night I would look up at Her, silently crying while holding a sleeping Kota in my arms. I do believe the Moon Goddess does everything for a reason, yet those past years, I couldn't find it in me what I did to deserve a fate like this. I should not be the only one held responsible, yet here I am, paying for its consequences.

I can feel the sun starting to set, the temperature shifting to a slightly lesser degree, and I slowly force myself to sit up. Kota whines in protest, his eyes squinting open from his interrupted nap. He sleepily takes notice of the setting sun.

"Did you have a good nap?" I murmur, moving the tangled hair out of his face.

He mumbles an incoherent response and continues resting his head on my shoulder. My heart clenches at the thought of leaving him all alone in that oak tree, forcing him to stay put and not make a sound until I return.

So, pushing those thoughts aside, I lay back down and hold him tighter for just a little while longer.

And there begins yet another night, the endless cycle, of us going to bed with two empty stomachs.

~

I wake with a start as a cool breeze brushes past my naked skin. The night is now dark, leaving only the moon's brightness for my eyes to adjust to. My heartbeat quickens. I have fallen asleep in human form, something I haven't done in years.