Bessa

Interludes

We work side by side. A nudge to my shoulder at times from him. A playful shove from me when he gets too close.

This is not uncomfortable. Not awkward.

Side eyes, find his torso when he stretches his arm up to put the herbs away when he puts the grains held in glass jars away. Everything gets unpacked spread out on the floor.

Inventory counted.

The Savage holds a slight frown.

"What is it?" An anxious edge hovers outward. Odin starts to cry.

"We will have to ration a lot of this."

"What do you mean?" No concealment of the turmoil that's freezing my breathing.

"Bessa, it will be alright." Confidence settles in his structured words.

"We have enough, just enough to see us through the winter. I'll have to go on a few hunts away from here to bring back the meat. We'll be fine." He doesn't hesitate that he thinks we'll be fine. There is no uncertainty with him.

Me, I'm starting to shake.

"We can't starve if we starve my milk will go away. I won't be able to feed Odin." Picking him up, he's so upset. Mad even that he woke up without a nipple near his mouth. The summer grounds and long walk have spoiled him.

"Bessa, listen to me. I will not let that happen to you. What I'm saying is that there was not enough brought home to eat like last winter. We can't waste, we will have to be strict with how we use the grains. The meat will be more than we need after the hunt. But all our grains, roots, herbs will have to be watched. I'll do the all the cooking."

"Why you?"

"Because I'm better at rationing then you are." The ways it's said is teased, tickled out in a soft, pleasing sound.

"I'll start the water," Borson walks into the bathroom, letting the water run.

Odin is upset; I have to feed him first before anything else can be done with him. We are in his routine. Which need to be broken into the house routine.

When he's finished nursing, it's bath time, the Savage and I take turns washing his body. Cleaning him. Borson laughs at Odin, and for the first time, Odin opens his toothless mouth laughing with his father.

The Savage and I look at each other, and we laugh with our Male. His legs are kicking, his arms are flapping, and we all are smiling with laughter.

This is how it should always be, just this, just this moment.

*

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*

Turning

Greens roamed all over my face.

It's as if he is physically touching me with his sight.

He swallows, I watch his throat move.

"What?" Asking, while feeling the creeping

"Nothing," bending his head, concentrating on butchering the animal.

Odin is on a fur, on the ground. Watching his father with keen eyes.

A crisp bite in the air makes me think that snow will come.

"Do you think it will snow today?' Looking up at the sky, a grey front is coming in.

...smiling.

"You're getting good."

His smile drags the corners of my mouth to meet his half way.

"Good?" Watching his hands work. Cutting the animal up in specific sections. It's a skill to butcher an animal of this size by himself.