Northstar Vale Mátia

The boy’s eyes closed at the touch of his mother.

Antigone sneezed, small body quaking with the force of it. He blinked heavily and looked up to Tamar’s face. She was speaking to him of something – fathers, gifts, hurts. The red-hooded boy did not understand what she said, only that her expression shifted drastically toward the end. He didn’t know what had done that. He didn’t know if it had been the spray of spittle from his nose and mouth.

Arms pushing him forward, Antigone buried himself in the downy fluff of his mom’s chest fur. The warmth was appreciated. He could not think of much, but Tamar’s expression had lasted in his mind. He fixated on it, trying to understand.