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‘Dear spirits； what have I done？’
The spirits； as usual； had nothing to say。
Out of the corner of his eye； movement caught his attention。 Two distant silhouettes passed in front of the big； bright moon。 They banked into a slow turn； and began to descend。 Two gars。
Richard came to his feet。 Maybe they would see the baby and help it。 He found himself cheering them on； and then realized how absurd it was to hope a gar would live。 But he was beginning to feel an odd sympathy for monsters。
Richard ducked down。 The two gars overhead came close to him as they swept in a wide circle around the scene on the next hill。 Their spiral tightened。
The little gar fell silent。
The dark shapes dove down； landing a ways apart with a flutter of wings。 They moved cautiously around the dead gar and its offspring。 Wings held open； they suddenly leapt toward the silent baby gar。 It broke its silence with a scream。 There was a flurry of wings； vicious roars； and frightened shrieks。
Richard stood。 Many animals ate the young of another of their own kind。 Especially males； and especially if food was scarce。 They weren’t going to save it； they intended to eat it。
Before he even realized what he was doing； Richard was racing down the hill。 He ran heedless of the foolishness he intended。 He pulled the sword free as he charged up the hill to the little gar。 Its terrified wails urged him on。 The savage snarls of its attackers ignited the wrath of the sword’s magic。
Steel first； he rushed into the fur and claws and wings。 The two gars were bigger than the one he had killed； confirming his suspicion that they were males。 His blade caught only air as they leapt back； but one of them dropped the little gar。 It skittered across the ground and clutched its mother’s fur。 The other two circled him； charging and darting and swiping with their claws。 Richard swung and stabbed with the sword。 One of them snatched at the baby。 Richard scooped it away with his free arm and quickly retreated a dozen paces。
They fell on the dead gar。 With a cry； the baby stretched its arms toward its mother； its wings flapping against his face in an effort to free itself。 In a frenzy； the two gars tore at the carcass。
Richard made a calculated decision。 As long as the dead gar was there； the pup wouldn’t leave it； the pup would have a better chance at survival if it had nothing to hold it to this place。 It squirmed mightily in his arm。 Though fully half his size； at least it was lighter than he would have thought。
He feigned a charge to hurry the two along。 They snapped at him； too hungry to be frightened off without a meal。 They fought each other。 Claws slashed and pulled； ripping the body asunder。 Richard charged again as the little gar tore free； running ahead of him with a shriek。 The two leapt into the air； each with half a prize。 In a moment they were gone。
The little gar stood where its mother had been； keening as it watched the two disappear into the dark sky。
Panting and weary； Richard returned his sword to its scabbard and then slumped down on a short ledge； trying to catch his breath。 His head sunk into his hands as tears welled up。 He must be losing his mind。 What in the world was he doing？ He was risking his life for nothing。 No； not for nothing。
He raised his head。 The little gar was standing in the blood where its mother had been； its trembling wings held out limply； its shoulders slumped； and its tufted ears wilted。 Big green eyes watched him。 They stared at each other for a long moment。
‘I’m sorry； little one；’ he whispered。
It took a tentative step toward him。 Tears ran down the gar’s face。 Tears ran down his。 It took another small； shaky step。
Richard held his arms out。 It watched； and then with a miserable wail； fell into them。
It clutched its long； skinny arms to him。 Warm wings wrapped around his shoulders。 Richard hugged it tightly to himself。
Gently stroking its coarse fur； he hushed it with forting whispers。 Richard rarely had seen a creature in such misery； a creature so in need of fort that it would even accept it from the one who had caused its pain。 Maybe； he thought； it was only recognizing him as the one who had saved it from being eaten by two huge monsters。 Maybe； given the terrible choice； it chose to see him as a savior。 Maybe the last impression； of saving it from being eaten； was simply the strongest。
The little gar felt like nothing more than a furry sack of bones。 It was half starved。 He could hear its stomach grumbling。 Its faint musky odor； while not pleasant； was not repulsive either。 He cooed succor as the thing’s whimpering slowed。
When it had at last quieted with a heavy； tired sigh； Richard stood。 Sharp little claws tugged at his pant leg as it looked up to his face。 He wished he had some food to leave with the pup； but he hadn’t brought his pack and had nothing to offer。
He pulled the claw from his pants。 ‘I have to go。 Those two won’t e back now。 Try to find yourself a rabbit or something。 You’ll have to do the best you can on your own now。 Go on。’
It blinked up at him； its wings and one leg slowly stretching as it yawned。 Richard turned and started off。 He looked over his shoulder。 The little gar followed after。
Richard stamped to a halt。 ‘You can’t e with me。’ He held his arms out and shooed it away。 ‘Go on。 Be off with you。’ He started walking backward。 The gar followed。 He stopped again and shooed it more firmly。 ‘Go！ You can’t e with me！ Go on！’
The wings wilted again。 It took a few shaking steps back as Richard started off again。 This time it stayed put as he went on his way。
Richard had the woman’s body to bury； and he needed to get back to camp before Sister Verna decided to use the collar to bring him back。 He had no desire to give her an excuse； he knew she would find one soon enough。 He glanced behind to make sure the gar hadn’t followed。 He was alone。
He found the body； laid on its back； where he had left it。 He noted with relief that there were no blood flies about。 He had to find either a patch of ground soft enough to dig a hole； or else a deep crevice of some sort to hide her body in。 Sister Verna had been explicit about hiding it well。
As he was surveying the scene； there was a soft flutter of wings and the little gar thumped to the ground nearby。 He muttered a quiet lament as the creature folded its wings and squatted fortably before him； peering up with big green eyes。
Richard tried to shoo it away again。 It didn’t move。 He put his hands on his hips。
‘You can’t e with me。 Go away！’
It tottered to him and clutched his legs。 What was he going to do？ He couldn’t have a gar tagging after him。
‘Where are your flies？ You don’t even have any blood flies of your own。 How can you expect to catch your dinner without your own blood flies？’ He gave a rueful shake of his head。 ‘Well； it’s not my concern。’
The small； wrinkled face peeked around his legs。 A low growl came from its throat as its lips pulled back to reveal sharp little fangs。 Richard looked around。 It was growling at the dead woman。 He closed his eyes with a groan。 The pup was hungry。 If he buried the body； the gar would dig it up。
Richard watched as the gar hopped over to the body； pawing at it as its growls grew louder。 Richard tried to swallow back the dryness in his throat； or maybe the things he was thinking。
Sister Verna had said to get rid of the body。 They mustn’t know how the woman had died； she had said。 He couldn’t stand the thought of the remains being eaten。 But even if he buried it； it would be eaten anyway … by worms。 Why were worms better than a gar？ Another ghastly thought came to him： who was he to judge … he had eaten human flesh。 Why was that any different？ Was he any better？
And besides； if the pup was busy eating； he could be off； and they would be gone before it had time to follow。 It would be on its own then。 He would be rid of it。
Richard watched as the little gar cautiously inspected the body。 It experimentally tugged at an arm with its teeth。 The pup wasn’t experienced enough to know what to do with a kill。 It growled louder。 The sight made Richard sick。
The teeth dropped the arm and the gar looked at him； as if to ask for help。 The wings fluttered with excitement。 It was hungry。
Two problems at once。
What difference did it make？ She was dead。 Her spirit had departed her body and wouldn’t miss it。 It would solve two problems at once。 Gritting his teeth at the task in mind； he drew the sword。
Pushing back the hungry gar with a leg； Richard took a mighty swing； slashing open a great rent。 The little gar pounced。
Richard walked quickly away without looking back。 The sounds turned his stomach。 Who was he to judge？ Lightheaded； he broke into a trot back to the camp。 Sweat soaked his shirt。 The sword had never felt so heavy at his hip。 He tried to put the whole incident out of his head。 He thought about the Hartland Woods and wished he were home。 He wished he could still be who he had once been。
Sister Verna had just