I fell to my knees, baby cradled against my chest, when I came upon my destroyed pack. Bodies lay strewn everywhere, eyes staring at me with an accusatory glare that should only be known in life, pale orbs sunk into bloody faces of men, women, and children. I could feel the hot tears digging tracks across my cheeks, the salt water irritating my skin as it dripped from me. Sobs clawed their way from my throat, parting my lips as they mingled with my tears, painting a picture of sorrow. I scanned every possible inch of our camp and the surrounding lands but I could not find a single alive soul in the area. I spent the night searching, searching until the baby woke up and cried. Her cry was of hunger and it wrenched me out of my drunken stupor, I had to provide for this baby or she would die. I couldn't stand to loose the only living thing I had left. What did babies eat? I didn't think I could give her meat so I packed up everything that belonged to me and anything that might be useful into a large rucksack and grabbed a blanket and slung it around my shoulders and tied it, forming a sort of purple hammock that I placed the sleeping baby into, before setting off. I contemplated what to call her as I hiked. When we got to a soft safe seeming glade I tools the baby and hid her under a bush and carefully arranged the limbs around it. I took my clothes off and put them and the rucksack under another Bush before shifting. When I landed on all fours I walked back over to the baby and sniffed, I wanted to be able to find her again, her smell drifted through my mind and the smell emanating from this one baby was so intoxicating that I sniffed again and again before reminding myself to find food and eventually waddling off, wondering what babies eat.
