Redsand Canyon trickle

Cornelius was used to his mother being present, or his father coming to visit for lengths of time. This was neither of those familiar faces. This was a hazy golden creature whose voice was soft like a lullaby.

He took an immediate interest in the bone she offered. There was no fear within Cornelius; it had not been born in to him and neither of his parents saw fit to teach it. He was otherwise a child of utmost restraint, except in this singular moment.