Burning

Part 2: Chapter ELEVEN

The hot blood sent ribbons of steam into the chilled dawn air. It eroded the ice below to create overlapping, winding streams. Like in 4th grade when his teachers taught him about how water slowly broke down rock over time. He should think of it like water. No. He wasn't supposed to think about human school but... the alternative was making him dizzy. If he didn't watch it pouring directly out of the recently opened throat it was just tolerable. A hand patted his back.

"Awww doing ok?" A condescending male voice asked.

He kept his nose pinched shut. "Fine, thanks."

"He's going to swoon in a moment, just watch Annie."

"I don't swoon, Santi."

"You do a little." The beterna holding the blade wiped it on the sheep's wool and pulled the animals ears back, bringing forth another gush. Angela's dark coils of hair were pushed back with a headband showing off her sharp features, black cunning eyes, and unimpressed mouth.

He turned away, eyes closed before Santiago's prediction came true.

"Do you need to sit for a second?" A second beterna who had been watching at a distance offered him a hand. In contrast to Angela, Annetta was soft all over. Round face, full cheeks, round stomach, and big-doe eyes which were now focused on him with concern.

"Take a seat, puppy, we aren't carrying you back." Angela grunted.

"Do you have to call me that? She's the new one." He hitched a hand to Annie hovering next to him.

"But she's right, you're the baby still, Chris." Santi flashed him his usual cocky smile. He was correct of course. Seventeen was unusually young to be initiated into a pack. Annie might be the newest but she was already twenty. Even that was considered young. Most of the rest of the members in the den were already over thirty at least.

"You're all puppies here still..." Chris looked over to the mentor watching them today. Or, I supposed, my mentor's friend. Technically it should be your own mentor here but once again she's absent. Lavender was reading a book, only occasionally glancing up to make sure no one had lost a finger. Ironically Lavender looked the youngest out of all of them given her small statue and freckled baby face "Do ya'll need my help or are you going to finish up your chores?"

"Almost done. Your turn, Annette." She offered the knife, flipped it with practiced ease to present her a handle.

"Angela, when is the last time I mentioned how beautiful you are?" Santi propped his chin on the aged wooden fence slat.

"About an hour ago- why?" Angela looked down at her blood and sheep fecal splattered shirt. "Can you get the next one?" She raised her eyebrows at Chris. He was on his feet, all too happy to get away from the smell of congealing blood.

The pen was away from the slaughtering hut and as he approached he could smell the green scent of rosemary that had been entwined into the holding pen. He paused by a wash basin still flecked with ice, shivering as he cleaned his hands and pressed scented oil to his wrist. It kept the sheep calm, masking the scent of blood right up until it was drained from them. Three more left. Two young males with poor quality wool and an old female no longer able to produce lambs. The second stillborn guaranteed her death. Sentimentality had kept her alive for an extra few months. Chris hopped over, offering a handful of compressed clover.

"Sorry, old lady." He pulled a few strands of stray hay from her tangle of wool and lifted her while she continued to chew. She made a brief noise of protest over being carried but seemed to be easily distracted by the food. When he was in sight of the hut he hesitated. No one was watching. He replaced her on the ground and removed the heavy, intricately carved stone bat snuck into his hoodie's front pocket. A single blow to the head caused her to fall, half-chewed grass and spit oozed from her mouth. He took a deep breath and placed the unconscious animal's head between his hands. There was a crisp crack like a tree branch snapping under foot. All her muscles relaxed.