There was a lot erased from the child’s memory, but he knew the woman had every reason to be angry if his aunt had already told her what had happened. She would never believe that he could not remember. She stared at him and said that she was not angry. Baby blue orbs glared at her, uncertain if this was one of those times when someone said they were not angry, but secretly was. That was the worst kind of angry, and the thought made his fur slightly stand up, clearly uncomfortable. She then asked the horrible question, and the male recoiled, wishing it could creep back into the dark blindness again. The darkness was a fearsome thing, but at this moment he would rather choose that above his mother’s anger and disappointment.
Red indicated blood, and he remembered being full of it, the stench of something diseased lingering together with a vague scent of Dahlia flowers. The tracks had been cleaned up from the child’s memory, but it did not mean that it was inaccessible. There were small traces there, still fresh in Haku’s mind. The woman came closer, but his focus was out of order, so she became a slurred form of light brown. His mother was not light brown, was she? He stayed still when she placed the wet cloth on his forehead, and some of the tension in his body fled. It was a caring thing to do, and his head did hurt quite a lot, so it helped. She was being very nice. He felt warmth for the woman, but there was also something underneath the surface that he could not understand, but it was dark and dangerous.
He bit his lip carefully, trying to think back. He wanted to help, but he did not know how. He was certain that he had not done anything wrong, but blood had to come from somewhere. Who was she if she was not his parent? Where was Iskata and where was he? The questions took quite some space and encouraged waves of pain to dull him down. He was confused. ”Blood from a mother and a baby.” Yes, that was it. It was a fearsome image that flashed before the child’s eyes. A woman strung up with her head almost completely separated from her body, her intestines spread all over with a few remaining pieces hanging from her freshly slaughtered body. The child’s neck embraced by a rope, its body slowly waving in the gentle breeze. His eyes watered, the guilt overwhelming.