It was a cry. A cry for help. In the dark shade of the trees, a young girl had fallen, her left leg splayed limply against her bloodied right thigh, turned wrong, rubbery to the touch. Her pupils were big, black, her eyes flashing, and she was wailing wordlessly.

She did not see me approach, but I had heard her cries for miles. I had traveled across the valley, up rocky ledges, and into a small meadow, high up in the hills, where at last I saw her tiny figure in the grass, smelling of blood.

The birds had gathered already, forming a shadowy halo over the girl, spinning and shrieking in a voice much like her own. Hungry. I know hunger like that.

Then she saw me, and her trembling mouth snapped shut. She got very still, and so did I. For a while, we just watched each other. She took a few shallow breaths and leaned her head back against the tree. She closed her eyes.

I took that as a cue to step closer, so I did, until only a few feet remained between us. It was then that she opened her eyes.

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“Are you going to eat me?”

I stopped, trying to parse her words. But it did not matter what she had said. I knew what was coming to her, and so did she. I could smell it on her, the iron and the cold. And no doubt she could feel it—the world around her, slipping away into visions of light and darkness.

I came closer until I could press my nose against her skin. She smelled foreign, strange, like flowers and dust. I huffed and sat beside her, close enough to feel the warmth leaving her body. She didn’t react—didn’t even seem to notice I was there. Fading. I’d seen it before. Life entering the pale dark. The birds began screaming even more feverishly.

Then at once, without warning, the girl’s head snapped up, and she looked me in the eyes, her face full of clarity and life.

“Mommy?”

And there he was. He’s come back to me again! My cub, lying broken and whimpering at the base of the snapped tree. Blood running into his eyes as his legs squirmed helplessly beneath him. Autumn leaves tried to bury him, but I wanted to see him—I wanted him to see me in the end. I wanted him to know he wasn’t alone. He had me, and he needed me, and I needed him—I see him. I need him. I’m here.

I waited until there was nothing left. No quivering, no sounds, just stillness. The birds, now exhausted from hours of circling, squawked at me from the branches above in complaint as night fell slowly around us. By the time the humans arrived with their flashlights and animals, I was long gone.