By Any Other Name

Ryatt

Fresh raindrops glisten on the trees above my head as I walk on steady feet toward the creek that runs adjacent to the village. It’s quiet here. Nothing but the sound of the birds and the rippling water pierce the air as I sit on a boulder overlooking the creek and adjust the bundle in my arms.

My daughter is asleep, making little suckling motions with her lips every once and a while. Gods, she looks like Ella right now. Her hair is a dark mahogany brown, and the scrunch of her nose mimics my mate’s look when she’s annoyed–or teasing me or someone else.

I’m supposed to name this baby. Ella told me not to come back to the cottage until she has a name, or I’ll sleep outside with the bugs and rats.

I stretch out my legs and cross my ankles. This could be a long day, and I haven’t eve……