Once There Were Wolves

by Charlotte McConaghy

I sink to the ground on my makeshift bed and place her on my chest, against my skin, and I guide her to my breast so she can latch on. She does it straight away, with very little struggle. I vaguely feel the placenta coming free of me, but I’m too intent on her face to take much notice of it. She is so tiny. I don’t know if she’s getting anything out of my unprepared breast. I bite her umbilical cord with my teeth, and then I wrap her in my thick thermal undershirt. I can’t bear to put her down, to let go of her for a single second, but I have to get dressed or I’ll freeze to death. So I lie her down and clumsily draw on my clothes and then press her to my chest inside the warm coat. I have no strength left in my body, my legs are almost paralyzed with weakness. I am bleeding quite a lot, and this scares me but there isn’t time now to rest, I need to get her somewhere warm, somewhere she can be looked after. So I find what little strength I have left and I get to my feet and I start walking.