riverlight || bird death [open]

[BLOODHOUND.]

They hear and smell him long before his approach. They remember that day, the dark water, the cries. How long, he had struggled. They remember diving into the deep water to whisk the little one away from the current, the fearful life between their jaws. They remember meeting him when they had arrived, how small he was, how large his eyes had been. They had watched him grow from the sidelines for the past few months, had seen the hardships that had befallen him and his own, a family torn apart by grief.

And it made them ache.

Thoughts of their parents often resurfaced, of a life they no longer possessed, how they had lost so much, so young. The strength it took, for a child to survive alone. They understood. They know, and they want to reach out to the little one, to show him that he is not alone in his grief. That they have every intention of supporting him where they can. They would not and could not replace his parents, but at the very least, the little one could trust in them.

Their heart nearly shatters, as Ivan's head presses up against their leg, as Ivan reaches out first, as they share in silence.

And it finally does, as Ivan tells them that they are good. As he thanks them. It takes every ounce of their strength, to hold back tears, to not cry in front of him. They look down at him, their eyes soft, and sit, trying to move their leg so they may wrap it around him, in an attempt to make him feel held.

"And you are so strong, Ivan. At this age, you should not have to be. But you are." I've got you. "You do not need to be alone in your strength. I am here."

THE TRUE TEST IS BEFORE THE ALLFATHER.