Little One

Image by ayoub wardin from Pixabay



“Wake up, little one. It is time to keep moving,” the wolf
said, nuzzling Molly.

“Do we have to? I’m still tired.” The little girl lifted her
head. Road gravel stuck to her pink cheek.

“Yes, little one. The fog is growing close, and the things
that come with it.”

Molly stood, and stretched, and picked up her lantern. The
two traveling companions began walking.

The road stretched on into the distance, the grasslands on
both sides eerily silent. Molly rubbed the gooseflesh of her arms. “I’m cold,”
she said.

“Keep moving. Walking will make you warm,” the wolf said.

“And I’m hungry.”

The wolf said nothing.

“And my feet hurt.”

The wolf rolled her eyes.

They continued, hearing only the sound of their own footsteps
echoing off the encroaching fog. Molly looked back. It was farther away than
when she woke, but she spotted one of the shadows that haunted her nightmares.

She walked a little faster and almost immediately stubbed
her little toe. She didn’t cry out, but tears did come, blurring her vision.
She swiped at them with the back of a dirty hand and sniffed.

“Can’t I just ride on your back? You’re so much bigger and faster,” Molly said.

“Little one, remember what I told you about the importance
of maintaining your dignity. I have my dignity too, and riding on my back would
make me your beast of burden. Protecting others’ dignity is called respect.”

“We-spect,” Molly said, sounding out the word. “And wespect
is important too?”

“Nothing is more important than respect. Except perhaps,
survival. Now, hush. Save your energy for the long walk. We can make it to the
settlement by nightfall.”

“And my new mommy will be at the seddlement?”

The wolf’s own eyes began to water. “Yes, little one.”

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