Oh no

The two young women went trotting off into the thick foliage of the island, ducking under vines and stirring up birds and other little critters. Solveiga smiled softly, finding their songs and cries to be like music to her ears. It was all so familiar, truly like coming home. Memories seemed to be hidden everywhere. The two passed a small spring and Solveiga remembered the countless times she and Andris had splashed about there as pups. They saw a particularly thick patch of berry bushes and she remembered the one time she and Andris had snuck away to stuff their bellies full of raspberries and grapes, surprised when their mother had guessed what they had been doing. Apparently they hadn't noticed the way the berries were staining their fur.

Solveiga laughed a bit and sighed, traveling on and on. But where was her mother? Nearly half a mile passed by under their feet before, finally, she smelled something. She could tell her friend sensed it too. But it wasn't right, not at all. It was her mother, no doubt about that, but the scent itself seemed skewed. She had fallen ill, and this realization hit Solveiga like a boulder. The scent was stale. Over a week old.

"No," she whispered, almost numbly. She refused to accept what this must mean, and after pausing for a moment she pressed onward, this time at a quicker pace. "No, no, please, no," she repeated like a prayer under her breath. But her fears were confirmed.

Solveiga stopped dead in her tracks, her blood running cold and a dreadful shiver rippling through her body. She forgot all about the spring and the berries. She even forgot the young woman who had traveled here with her. Because there, near the mouth of the den where Solveiga and her brother had been raised, there was a large patch of freshly upturned earth. The soil was dark and loamy here, designed to create and sustain life. But here it seemed only to sustain death. Without a doubt, below the earth lay the mother of Solveiga and Andris Derus, and the latter had been present to bury her. Solveiga knew, she knew her brother had been the one to bury their beloved mother, because atop the dark mound of earth lay a bundle of hyacinth. Their mother had always loved hyacinth, especially the white and purple ones like the kind that had been gathered here. "No," the cream colored girl whispered one last time, her voice breaking into a whimper as her eyes began to sting with the threat of tears.