THE GIGAS

pg 4

Light tinged the upper stratosphere, the lavender clouds above painted into the usual fiery orange and pink hue of the rising star.

Dawn has approached.

The Bones of the ursus click and clack tumbling together in a heap as its picked over by the group who are careful to make sure to not miss even the smallest hidden morsel.

One of the adults experimentally bites into the femur of the animal testing the strength of the bone but swiftly concludes that his teeth is a poor instrument against its sturdy thickness. He hungrily gnawed superficial jagged marks at the proximal joint shaving down its once smooth groove. The rest scatter uninterested finding nothing left.

The end to the feeding has left the group seemingly list less.

They look expectantly both at the leader and I, knowing that time is not on our side. We had returned after the private consolation of emotions. The leader working diligently past his own failed feelings, forging  strength to preside more wisely and resolutely toward the vulnerable mass in his charge.

I have learned much from his confession of how they came to be in this state.

The leader shakes his head and calls only for the strongest. They need to make a den with much urgency.

The air fills with chirps of distress from the young ones that will be left behind without their sire, afraid of being abandoned. The leader gave a stern look with lips curled over sharp teeth and it quieted them down for a moment but tears flow instead in great quantities.

I trot over nonchalantly, tired and ignoring the whole scene, laying myself over a soft patch of dug up dirt from my sadly empty cooking pit.

They leave hastily, retreating into the woods without a second glance.

The remaining weakened adults busy themselves huddling together with, what I can only presume is, their broodlings. They each hunch over tenderly shielding the thin bodies from the chilly winds starting to blow.

The ones whose sires must of left wander between huddled bodies trying to find an accepting adult willing to shield them. But many had multiple little ones with no room for more.

A particularly strong wind blows past chilling all in attendence and waves of shivering disperse among the small crowd. I continue to lounge unbothered and relaxed despite the nippy conditions, unaware of the others.(@minipurse)

A small shivering body wavers in front of me. This one must be particularly unlucky, it has found no one to share warmth with. He turns eyes wide in trepidation and fear unsure of what to do next, his eyes flash briefly a resolve to find a safe haven.

He looks onto me, still.

" Come" I wave, finding no reason to reject this little one , opening my arm to welcome him into my warm chest.

He hesitates for a moment looking back at the group who had been unable to help him. He knows he will soon die from hypothermia before his sire comes back for him.

Cautiously he scuttles toward my body. His small icy hands hitting my flesh first, he mumbles very softly. Heard only barely " its so warm" in his surprised voice. His cold face presses on to my side and he sighs more relaxed.

He does not move for a very long time warming himself. Slowly with time he had began to gently slide down to the ground, his eyes closed. He had fallen asleep. I scoff gently readjusting the young one, pulling his back closer to my front. His body had began to slowly envelope him in his own little protective cocoon and I curl myself around the small body protecting him from the strongest of the chill.