DESPOINA
She is tired. She can feel it down in her bones—the kind of fatigue that she is not certain even a full night of slumber will be able to chase from her bones. It is the kind of exhaustion that will haunt her steps for days, for months, for years. The kind that will be a constant reminder of that which she faced tonight.
A mother who would fight for her but not look at her.
A scar that ran deeper than she realized, even now.
Despoina’s head lowers and she exhales slowly, not seeing the others arrive or seeing Jack rise up. She just stands there, tail tucked, until she feels her body return to her. She grows taller and her limbs lengthen. She becomes the iridescent blue of her mother instead of that shaggy brown of the puppy.
But the exhaustion remains.
She slowly lifts her eyes up again, searching the monster before her who was nothing when compared to the monster that she knew rumbled in her—desperate and greedy. Another deep breath and she rolls her shoulders, nearly ready to ask for the trick that she is certain she deserves until she remembers that which waits for her back at home. Her children curled up asleep. Torryn surely keeping watch.
A faint smile breaks through the bitter exhaustion and she nods toward the orange wrapper.
“Treat,” her voice is dry and she coughs, “please.”
Hopefully she could at least bring them home that.
I guess the sound of your voice in the aching will just have to do