Bearclaw Valley Only the good die young

if towhee could scream, she would have.

she grabs tzar roughly, scuffing him though he was too big, shoving him away beneath a tree — safe from the collapse of rock and rubble.

she can feel the tremble in the earth, see the cloud of dirt and rock dust and debris. her heart thrums in her chest as she sobs; horrible, twisted sounds … desperate to dig out her other children — the ones she thought were trapped.

the ones she thought was dead.

her husband had gone missing and now her children, besides young tzar, she believed to be dead.

she grabs tzar and hurries him along, ghost their solemn sentry above; far away from the valley and the heartbreak it now represented for her. she was not sure where she’d go … and didn’t care. as long as it was far away from here.