Before we go
He was dreaming again.
His tiny paws took him across the length of the den. A place which was small in reality was miles wide in his dream world. His mother and father and siblings were the shadows to his right and in the darkness they looked like mountains. Or, that’s what he would have thought if he had known what mountains were.
The land beneath his paws was rock and sand but firm. Surprisingly, his paws weren’t so clumsy anymore. He moved towards his destination with a determined air about him, lifting his eyes to keep it in sight.
His destination was ‘upper world’. A place he had never seen but a place he had been told stories about every day. A land of gold – gold as his fur. He wanted to see it and today was the day. However, he’d been walking for a long time now, hours or maybe even days. And yet the tunnel that led up into ‘upper world’ stayed small. Then, as his frustration bit at him, something amazing happened.
He blinked his eyes and when they opened again he was standing before the entrance, glancing up to catch the slither of blue sky.
With a whoop of joy the young cub darted up the tunnel. A feeling of elation came over him and with a bound he soared through the air – prepared to dive upwards into freedom.
Then, with a snag, something caught hold of his tail and he fell into darkness.
--
“Wake up.” Ripuka tugged on her golden child’s tail to stir him from his sleep. She would have lifted him up by the scruff – if she’d been able to get to his neck. However, the little one had buried himself right down amongst his siblings so that only his rump was showing.
She gave him another tug, being careful not to disturb the others, then lifted her head as he wriggled into wakefulness.
“Hush now, child. Don’t wake the others.”
--
The gold fell backwards as he broke free of his siblings. The air outside of their sleepy snuggle was cold and he realised then how useful his brothers and sisters were for getting comfortable with.
At his mother’s warning he lifted a large ear and turned his head to glance at her over a shoulder. He had large green eyes and right now they were filled with confusion. Why did he have to wake up whilst his brothers and sisters slept? That didn’t seem fair at all!
“Cold…” He mumbled miserably, hunching his shoulders and dropping his head.
--
“Hush.” Ripuka replied, perhaps more harshly than she had meant it. Seeming to realise this, she drew forwards and lifted her baby up by the scruff, pulling him close to her chest and away from his father and siblings.
Her eyes were sad and her usually calm face was solemn. Her whole body was rigid and as she spoke again, her eyes cast briefly to the rest of her family.
“We’re going on an adventure. Just you and me. It’ll be cool outside, but it won’t stay that way for long. The desert sun is hot.” Her voice was sad and low.
--
Perhaps the thought of an adventure would have been an exciting prospect for the youngster. However, he was only sad. Sad and scared. He was pressed to his mother’s chest – could hear the odd rhythm it was beating. He could also feel the rigidity of her body. She was afraid too.
But why?
“U-upper world?” He stuttered, shifting slightly. “Yoo say not go there. No want to go. No, no.”
--
“Please.” Ripuka spoke through gritted teeth, trying her best to hold back the pain of what she was feeling. “Please, child, don’t make this harder than it has to be.” She lifted a paw to brush it across her face, to wipe the tears away. Then, with a sniff and a deep breath, she composed herself.
“You’re special, little one. Far more special than you know. You probably won’t remember this conversation. You may not even remember me or the rest of your family – not when you’re older and with a new life – but I’ll tell you this now.”
She paused and drew him away so she could look him in the eye. “We love you, very much. Even though we don’t show it sometimes.”
--
“Mama.” He was finding it hard to listen to what she had to say. He was frightened. He could pick up on his mother’s emotions. He knew she was sad. He knew something was terribly, terribly wrong. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep alongside his siblings. He didn’t want adventure. He just wanted to close his eyes and pretend none of this had ever happened.
“Me want sleep.” He insisted.
Then the tears flared violently in his green eyes and he wriggled on the spot, scrunching his little nose as he tried to keep the sadness away. “Me love yoo, too.” He rubbed at his snout but made no attempts to move.
Special? He was only special because he was gold and his family was not. He felt severed from them, odd and unconnected. If that was what being special was like, he’d rather be normal and boring.
--
“Listen to me, little one, and listen well.” She drew close to him, her sightless eye contrasting brilliantly with her fiery one. “This is going to be hard for you. It’s going to be hard for me too. One day, I hope you’ll understand that this was for the best.”
She shook her grizzled head.
“Little one, you can’t stay here. I’m going to take you away.”
--
It took all of the gold’s effort not to wail, not to fling himself at his mother and hold on for the rest of his life. Thinking of a day without her there, without his father there, without his siblings there…it was…unbearable. He hated them sometimes, but the love always shone through.
What would he do without them?
He was so young. He did not have the vocabulary to express these thoughts. So he could only whimper, shaking his head slowly from side to side.
--
“Listen. Listen, little one.” She stood and parted herself from the rest. She towered over him then, a dull orange in the darkness of the den. He’d never seen her true colours – her pelt out in the full glare of the sun.
He soon would.
“Don’t cry.” She crooned. “I’m going to take you to ‘upper world’ now. Take you there before anyone else. It’s dangerous but it’s wonderful too. You’ll see soon enough.”
And looking at him shaking and sobbing, she felt her heart crack.
Then, with a shaky breath she lifted him by the scruff and carried him up into the pale morning sunshine.
--
The light – though pale – hurt his eyes and as his mother carried him out of the den he was forced to squint. His face scrunched up in distaste. He wanted to go back! He wanted to go home!
He breathed in a thousand different scents and, before he could say anything, his mother was plopping him back on the ground—on the sand!
He looked down at his paws and wiggled his toes in the gold stuff. His mother was right…it sort of was like his pelt...and what a pelt he had! He’d known it was different, but out in the pale light he could see just how brilliant it was.
Like the sun itself.
Timidly, he raised his head to glance up at his mother. His eyes were greeted by a burning figure of fire. Her pelt – not as red as most Firekin – had quite the effect on him.
“Mama…”
--
She smiled, but again the expression was sad.
It was here again. The time when she had to part with a son. She might as well have been cutting a piece of her soul away and casting it to the wind. She wasn’t sure how she was holding it together. All she knew was that when this was done, things would never be the same.
It was like losing Azarax all over again.
Reliving the past…
She shut her eyes to will the thoughts away, then, when she opened them again, she met her son’s gaze.
“Wait here. I’ll fetch your father. He’ll want to say goodbye.” She’d tell the cubs when she was back. She’d promised Makaa that they’d break the news together. Then, when they were older, she’d tell them everything.
And this time it really was going to be everything.
She had a promise to keep.
She turned back the way she had come, preparing herself for the goodbye that was going to be with her forever.
Her heart was shattered.
/fin
