Bigfoot

17.

River awoke with a start. He jerked himself up and looked around the cave. It was pitch black, even for his great eyesight. The fire had died out and was completely gone.

He groaned as he shifted himself to the side of the bed and sat up, his head swimming. River put his hand on his temple and looked around. "Azzalea, where are you?"

Concern grew in his chest. "Fawn?" He called out. He listened. She was asleep. He could hear her breathing.

He squinted against the darkness. She was curled up in a corner, wrapped in a pile of furs.

It was cold.

River stood up and rolled the rock out of his way and relieved himself right by the door. How long was I asleep?

The snow was deep. It had to be close to freezing inside the cave, he couldn't imagine how cold it was outside, but he knew he didn't want to stay out any longer than he had too. River gave himself a quick shake and went back inside, leaving the stone open just long enough for the moon to help him to find his fire materials, and he rolled it shut blocking the cold.

River grit his teeth as he fumbled with his stones. His fingers still numb from his healing sleep.

The sound of stones hitting together, filled the cave.

Again.

Again.

Again.

"Finally." He growled frustrated at himself. "Get yourself together, you have a female to tend to." He cursed at himself for ever allowing the bear to get that close. "We shouldn't have been out anyway."

River sighed in relief as the flames grew stronger and the orange glow radiated throughout the front of the cave. He looked over to his mate, bundled in so many furs. River had felt her lay with him for a while and wondered why she chose to huddle next to the stone wall now. "Azzalea." He said her name softly. Standing up he went over to her and started unraveling the poor female.

Her face was red and puffed out from crying. Her eyes looked so swollen. "My Fawn."

Azzalea thought she was dreaming as she was lifted from her sleeping place. She murmured against the skin she was pressed against and took a deep breath in. Her eyes popped open. "River?"

Like a cat being handled by a toddler, she clawed her way away from him and stood shaking by the fire. Azzalea couldn't believe it. It had been two weeks, since he had been injured by the bear. She kept count by using the chalk she had found. For two weeks, she had begged God to give her back her Bigfoot. She begged and begged.

He had stopped breathing.

River had taken a sharp breath, which got her attention. It was released long and slow. Azzalea had scrambled over to him and slapped at his face. His wounds were healed. She just couldn't understand it. Nothing remained but scars. Why was he not awake? Why was he not breathing?

"River!"

That night she couldn't bear to sleep by his dead body. He hadn't taken a breath since, what Azzalea assumed, was midday. She couldn't feel a pulse. His chest was too thick. CPR was useless.

Azzalea had collapsed on top of his body, sobbing until she caused herself to throw up. "My River! River! River and Azzalea!" She cried out.

Now, he stood in front of her with his hands out. Speaking to her in his language. Azzalea turned around and faced the door. She pointed up to the roof of the cave. "This better not be a trick. This better not be a trick."