Coyotes: Denis

Chapter 3: Hospice

   When I opened my eyes again, it was from movement in my room. I shared it with my mother, so when her day began, mine usually did as well. This time, she already seemed ready for the day.

   I looked over and saw a soapy bucket and a sea sponge waiting for my mother to return with towels.

   Great. They didn't trust me to bathe myself yet, probably worried I would slip if I tried to sit down or get up without support.

   As if I wasn't already embarassed enough, I let my mother take care of me. Something I hated, because I didn't ever want to be a burden for her. But, the bath went quickly and quietly since we were both groggy.

   Once I was dressed again, I accepted a bowl of hot rice porridge as breakfast and said goodbye to my mother, and to my siblings who were going to stay at a neighbor's house. I couldn't possibly chase them around or pick them up in my current state.

   All alone in the hut, with the red earth walls keeping me safe from the blinding Sun, I felt the real weight of my injury for the first time.

   How did my mother get this rice I was eating? She hated asking others for money or favors, and insisted on doing work in exchange for things like this. How would she afford the market? Do my siblings have everything they need next door? How am I going to get up and ask for help if I can't do something?

   I took a deep breath, trying to stop worrying about my family. My mother was a strong woman, and she was finding a way, somehow, to meet our needs. And she mentioned someone coming by to help me with my bite, so I wouldn't be all by myself.

   Though, I might die of boredom if they don't come soon enough.

   I set my empty bowl on the ground by my bed, and sat with my back against the wall, digging in to a book that was well-worn and falling apart.

   'Leonardo's Field Guide' was the title, scribbled into the front with enough pressure to emboss the leather. Inside were handwritten notes, drawings, and descriptions of the environment us Coyotes lived in. Of course it was very detailed, considering it was written by a native to these lands.

   My thoughts trailed off, and I saw little tears pattering on the page. I watched them soak in, and wrinkle the thin sheet, thankfully not obscuring anything important... even with the knowledge of my father, and the elders before him, here in my paws, I still manage to feel like I have failed somehow by showing weakness in the wild. The weight of the world seemed to crush me even further.

   My dad used to call me his little Cryote, and if my damp face was anything to go from, the nickname held true.

   I was snapped out of memory lane by the creaking of our little wooden front door. I sat completely still, ears perked up, listening to the intruder.

   My head didn't move, but my eyes moved to the side to lock on to the doorway of the bedroom. What could I do? I can't even get up on my own very well.

   I nearly leaped out of my skin when a slender snout, with bright and shining fur, peeked into the doorway, scenting the air.

   The nose was pulled back suddenly when I jumped, presumably because I startled the intruder, and my jaw dropped when they came into full view of the doorway.

   Benoit, tall and lean, did not crowd the doorway. However, his presence still managed to shock and overwhelm me.

   We both stared at each other intensely, not believing my eyes that the Huntsman's son was in my own home.

   Finally breaking the tension, he spoke, voice deep, but meek and careful. ".... I'm glad to see you're alright..." his eyes darted around the room, looking everywhere but at me.