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Shaky arms and unreliable legs carried me toward the ancient oak beside the creek, where Enosh stood with A
The woman wept, sinking to the ground, and tearing me down alongside her, but the noise faded under the shk-shk of a bone spade shoveling soil. My mouth turned dry.
Was he…?
Something moved beneath my sternum at how Enosh lifted out a grave, the very act of it going against everything I thought I’d known about this man. No grave was needed for him to rot A
Once the hole was deep enough, he lowered A
Beside me, her mother whimpered, “What happened?”
“It’s rot,” I explained from the little I’ve seen of it. “She’s at rest now.”
“Thank y-you,” the woman whispered, her filth-crusted face rubbing over my feathers, streaking them brown.
We left her by the grave and rode off, a whirlwind of emotions raging at my core as I glanced back at Enosh. “Why did you do this? Why make a grave?”
Seconds ticked into eternity as he remained silent until, after a heavy swallow, he said, “Because I do know the sorrow and agony of losing a child.”