Sequoia Coast first;

since they left the island mama had not eaten that ava had seen.

the girl turned the offered hare over in her mouth. if it had any flavor to it, she couldn’t tell. grief had even stolen the purest of senses from her; the pleasure of taste.

ava swallowed the gristle and wiped her chin.

oh! she missed the island. she missed feeding psalm. she missed the warmth of summer. she missed her daddy. her siblings. judah.

don’t break don’t break don’t break

and now like a dandelion’s soft bloom, they were scattered to the wind.

ava tore a chunk, wandering over to her listless dam. the strip of meat was held before heda with a growl — eat, she insisted by thrusting it to her face while she stared mournfully at an island that would never love them back. ava’s gesture was half firm, half panicked by worry.

i cant lose you too.