Ficlets and Ficly survivor, FicMom, and Mistress of Well-Intentioned Indecision and Goddess of Unrequited Love. @ElshaHawk @HawkandYoung
She took to the baby. Held it, rocked it, cooed at it. I gave her the supplies I had, but they would only last a week. I told her that the baby had to go to the hospital inside the caldera. I told her it was temporary, but I knew she'd make it permanent.
The whispering went into the night, through the late feedings, and into the morning.
I repacked my gear and prepared to take the babe. She refused. She insisted she and her husband could make the journey.
"Once you enter the caldera, you cannot come back," I informed them.
"Then we'll all go," She thought she could speak for the group.
"It's not your baby. The baby is the only one who is requested."
"The Caldera chooses who may enter. It may reject you. All of you. And the journey is hard." I looked at the elders.
"We won't make it." They began to look defeated, stuck between a war and death by exposure.
He spoke up. "I'm not leaving my parents."
"I'm not leaving this baby!" She stood up, holding the babe to her breast.
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Inspired by (sequel to):
My job was to escort the right people into the caldera. If I came across the wrong sort, well.
As a…Distress Call
- Published 4 years ago.
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