Mother's Love

Mother's Love

(Milk & Honey)

By

Ophelia Mae Hancock

June 25, 2022

"You knew I was a snake when you took me in"



Faith strolls along through the Enchanted Forest. She would have been happy to relax within her cabin, but she has been beckoned to venture out that very day. She is not sure why, but the force is just too much to deny. She stumbles around, trying to find her way. She is led, urged. Her chosen path leads her though the babbling brook, amongst its icy waters and its razor stones. The path has never been smooth for Faith, it has always been a challenge. She is nearly to the opposing bank when she feels a sharpness upon her foot. She gasps and jerks, nearly falling into the frigid waters. She catches herself and is able to come upon earth. She glances down, to see a crimson flow from her paw. Once again, a source that is meant to be life giving has become life taking. So many times. She limps through the flowing ferns, their little fiddleheads rising up as if wanting to strum a tune. Her labored steps lead her to a bit of comfort, her bare feet upon the moss.

As Faith begins to gather herself a bit, she hears a sound of struggling, and feels a sense of desperation from an outside force. She follows the sound, beckoning her like a siren to a ship. She feels an instinct to rush back to the brook.

Upon reaching the bank, she sees a struggling being. She investigates, and sees it to be a tiny wolf pup. Her heart is crushed by its struggle. It sees her, and stares deep into her eyes, begging her.

Faith doesn't give the least bit of concern and rushes into the frigid waters to rescue the little pup. She grasps it from the waters and holds it to her chest. She has but a delicate gown on, but nonetheless, this poor baby needs it more than her. She strips herself of it, so that she can wrap the dear being in it. She shivers from the cold, but she must save this vulnerable creature. She rushes back to her cabin with the fragile one.

Faith brings the dear baby to the fire to dry its fur and warm it, it is so chilled to the bone. It shakes and shivers. She strokes it to comfort it, and it leans into her palm in gratitude and comfort.

Faith comes to adore this little being. She feels that The Fates Of Three must have drawn her out that day for the express purpose of rescuing this sweet creature. Her heart swells at the priviledge.

She seeks to find something to feed to this baby. She dabs a cloth into some milk and offers it. The dear heart nurses upon it as if its mother's teat. Its eyes gaze upon her with warm intentions. Faith's heart swells, and only wishes she could nurse this angel with her own body.

Faith, weary from such an overwhelming day, feels she must rest. She cannot bear leaving this vulnerable one to its own devices in the dark dark night. She brings it to her bed and nestles it to her chest.

A new day dawns, and Faith finds the previous day to not be a dream, and find this dear one to be cuddled to her that morning. She ruffles its head a bit, and it turns its head to gaze at her.

She feeds her new one once again with the milk and the cloth. She takes it out to frolic. Such a boisturous one!

And so the days go, such a precious union. She soons finds her baby to be a boy. His coat is inky black, so she names him Ebony. He bounces about, flitting about, always returning to her, tickling her nose with his tiny tongue, lapping eagerly at her, showing such affection.

Faith always takes Ebony to tuck him in with her at night. She strokes his little head until he drifts off into sleep. She listens to his tiny grunts, sighs, and snores in his slumber. She begins to feel such a maternal instinct towards him, such a swell of pride over her son.

Ebony begins to grow like a weed, and soon the cloth of milk is not enough to satisfy his hunger. She cuddles him one night, his whimpers of hunger breaking her heart. He turns his head to look at her pleadingly. Faith draws him to her chest, to her breast. His hungry tongue laps at her chest, and he gazes up at her, as if to say please, mother may I? Faith arches her back and offers up her nipple to her dear son. He latches on and suckles in the most greedy way. Faith draws in her breath in a most dramatic way at such a primal sensation. Such an otherwordly instinct moves her to draw him close, stroke his head, hold him to her breast, and allow him to drink of her nutrition, which her earthly substance has created just for him, her son. Necessity is the mother of invention, and her biology has sensed that and responded to it.

Faith takes Little Ebony under her wing, caring for him, nurturing him, loving him. She dotes on him with so much affection. He readily responds to her affections, speaking to her with his eyes, with such a sense of gratitude and love. Their communications become nearly telepathic, no words are necessary.

Faith continues to nurse her Little Beloved. As he begins to grow, so does his appetite. As his need for nutrition grows, so does her biology. Her body senses his need, and responds in a most hearty manner. She finds that her maternal instinct provides all that her child needs. Her body begins to respond in such a generous manner that she nearly produces more than Ebony can consume. She often finds her breast engorged. Her cup runneth over.

Ebony is thriving under Faith's care, becoming stronger and more lively by the day. As she continues to nurish Ebony, he begins to nip at her breast, then the nips grow into aggressive bites. I am not going to be able to nurish my baby by my body alone Faith realizes, I can no longer sate his hunger. My diet is spartan, I fear I won't have enough within my resources to feed him. I must do something, Faith realizes.

My baby boy needs meat. Faith subsists mainly upon fruits and vegetables she raises herself, but that is just simply not going to be adequate. Although she rarely eats meat, she has been able to trap rabbits from time to time. She sets out her traps and hopes for the best.

Next day, Faith finds a rabbit struggling in one of her traps. Poor dear, it is terrified. My son needs this, Faith affirms to herself. As she raises her butcher knife to bring it down upon the rabbit's throat, she chants to herself, I MUST, I MUST, I MUST!

Things continue like this. Faith is able to trap rabbits, some squirrels, some small game such as guinea hens, ground hogs, opossums. It soon becomes second nature to her, tapping into her primal instincts to provide for her baby. She soon finds herself consuming some of the kills, becoming more wild herself.

Ebony is becoming quite grown, muses Faith. He needs to become acquainted with the wild, he needs to develop and hone his instincts. She begins to venture further and further into the wilderness with him on their walks. On a few occassions, she kneels before him and communicates with him mind to mind. She assures him that he is grown and healthy, and no longer needs her care. She assures him that he is free, he has no obligation to her to stay, as she wipes a tear from her cheek.

Ebony begins to trudge away from Faith and into the deep forest. He drags his paws a couple of steps reluctantly. He looks back towards Faith.

"Go Ebony, go", Faith speaks to him in their unspoken words.

Ebony turns back towards the deep forest, his head hung low, and begins to skulk off. Faith begins to sob softly. He turns back again to gaze at Faith.

"Go Ebony, you're free", sighs Faith.

Ebony's powerful body falls into a weak slump. He is frozen on the spot, his sad eyes locked upon Faith's. He rushes towards her, nearly knocking Faith back, and licks at her face most eagerly.

"Let's go home then" gushes Faith.

She cuddles him extra close that night.

Faith continues to try and expose Ebony to nature. She takes him on a walk along the brook late in the day one day. She finds herself in a daydream, and before she knows it, she realizes she is unfamiliar with their surroundings. She turns back to try and retrace their steps, and begins to become frantic. Ebony steps in front of Faith, looks back to her, and assures her that he knows the way.

Faith puts her trust in her son.

Before she knows it, they are back to the brook. Faith goes and kneels at the bank. She is so exhausted from their trek that she longs for a sip of water. The moon is glowing bright that evening, full and free, casting a silvery sparkle upon the water. She slips to sit upon the bank to rest a bit before finishing the journey home.

Ebony prances around to stand before her. He jumps up, places his paws upon her shoulders, and licks at Faith's neck.

"Oh come now boy, let's go home" exclaims Faith.

Yet Ebony leans in closer to Faith, placing more of his weight upon her shoulders.

"Oh Ebony, let's go, it's very late" sighs Faith.

Yes, it is too late...

Ebony begins to bear more and more of his impressive weight upon Faith's shoulders.

"Ebony dear, no time for games, let's go home".

Ebony gives a soft rumble of a growl.

Faith has no fear of Ebony. She is sure that he is just very excited over the day.

At first...

She begins to feel a chilly bolt of fear run through her.

Ebony leans in closer, his growls becoming more and more feral. He soon has Faith pinned against the forest floor, standing upon her chest. He begins to drool over her.

"Ebony, no" chides Faith.

Ebony eases forward, asserting his strength upon Faith.

"EBONY, NO" demands Faith.

Surely my beloved son will not harm me!

Surely!

SURELY!!!

Faith has become paralyzed with fear. She can only lie there, hoping for a reprieve. She is at a total loss. All that seems real to her is the silvery glow of the moon above. All that seems tangible in this moment. She tries to focus. She tries to reason. She tries to believe.

Folly.

Ebony raises his head to the sky, to his mother moon, his true mother, and howls his praises to her.

Mist of steam rises from his nostrils.

It has become quite chilly.

Ebony raises up to give the most heartist of howls, something he has never done before.

All that Faith had thought of life has suddenly dissolved right before her.

Is this it, she begins to wonder?

Ebony lowers his snout, rooting about Faith's neck.

She can feel his hot breath.

She can feel a drop of drool upon her.

"Ebony", she desperately plees.

"Ebony, please no"

"Please"

"I am your mother, Ebony"

But it is all for naught.

Faith hears the growls of no return, and feels a tightening upon her throat.

She feels a sharp piercing of her delicate flesh in a most vulnerable place.

She gasps sharply, suddenly, and with great desperation.

She reaches up for arms of salvation that just do not exist.

Empty promises.

Her mind has gone into this otherwordly place, the land of sweetness and light, the land of milk and honey.

A land that never was.

Promised land?

A trickle of blood tickles at her ear.

My kingdom for a Q-Tip

Much as a diver from the yawning depths of the sea races to the surface for breath, so does Faith. She fights through the levels of depth, through the levels of pressure. She seeks a release of pressure, but only to find that pressure is ever rising upon her.

Blue is such a tranquil color.

The songs of the night birds are fading...

Fading...

Fading...

And so is Faith.

Ebony begins to feast greedily at her tender throat.

Her blood flows like tears. A crimson waterfall of all the hopes not realized, of betrayal.

They weep.

They sob.

Faith still holds a bit of a tenuous grasp. The hazy borders of her vision have not quite yet yielded to blindness. She can still see the spider webs.

Oh what a web we weave...

Faith begins to feel light as a cloud, airy as a feather, the unbearable lightness of being.

The very last embers of her spiritual fire rise up, in an attempt to burn her back to reality, but are only met by the drowning upon her own blood.

Faith has lost all physical strength, but her mind still tries to desperately hang on. Forest for the trees. She tries to call out Ebony no, but she just strangles on the gurgles of her own blood. A sea of coppery rises in her throat. The tide has turned. Her senses are limited to the eager snarls of her son upon her throat, the greedy lapping.

The angels are arriving. Faith can see their precious wings flitting about her. She can sense their comfort enveloping her. Her fight is nearly over.

Faith reaches down deep and taxes her very last bit of struggle upon this earth to reach out, reach up. Her gossamar light touch brushes through her son's hair. She musters her very last bit of strength and pulls his head up, snout dripping with her blood.

"Why" she is barely able to mutter.

You knew I was a wolf...

Faith slips into that neverending sleep.