TCGAD 15

Taming:

1. The act of domesticating a beast.
2. Gradually leading toward a purpose.

☀️

I drifted in unconsciousness for a long time. A vast sea. I surrendered my body to a world where waves gently rocked.

Here, I wasn’t hungry. I didn’t know loneliness. There was no poverty, no suffering. It was truly peaceful. I couldn’t remember the last time I rested so quietly.

I wanted to stay in this calm forever. But a voice kept calling from somewhere.

“…Odeu.”

Why did they keep searching for me with that name?

“You said you wouldn’t die.”

It’s not like I can control that.

“I hate humans, these bug-like b**t**ds…”

His words were crude, but his voice was uncharacteristically subdued. This was the guy who’d growl arrogantly even after getting beaten for picking fights. What had happened?

“Don’t escape to that kind of place!”

It kept grating on my nerves. I could just close my eyes, block my ears, and ignore it. But my attention kept drifting toward it. I couldn’t abandon someone who needed help.

It’s all because of my pathetic personality. I was never welcomed anywhere. From birth, I was an outcast, my odd appearance making me a target for bullying. People avoided me, saying I brought bad luck. I never had a real friend.

“Why was I even born?”

My life always left me questioning. Even a pebble has a purpose, so what was I? I couldn’t shake the thought.

Then I saw a dog at the fighting pit. It was the first being that needed me. There, I found my reason to exist for the first time. That purpose chained to my grandmother, the animals caught in traps, and the dogs at the pit. We leaned on each other’s wounded bodies.

“Open your eyes!”

Thud, thud, thud… Something was breaking. I didn’t know what was happening outside. Why was he searching for me so desperately? I didn’t know the reason, but the thought of someone needing me snapped me awake.

“Let’s stop playing and go back.”

I made a small resolve. A white light began to envelop me. I stopped letting the flowing water carry me and flailed my limbs like I was swimming. My body was gradually pulled into the light.

“……”

When I opened my eyes again, the first thing I saw was the familiar cave wall. A calm thought flowed through my mind.

“Wow, I’m really still alive.”

My mind was blank, dazed. As I stared into space, Lemon entered the room and spotted me.

“Priest!!”

Thud, thud, thud. Lemon rushed to me, checking if I was okay, asking if anything hurt. My head throbbed, and I waved a hand to say I was fine.

“I’m okay.”

Even speaking simply made my throat hoarse. My raspy voice embarrassed me.

“You lost so much blood. You kept passing out and sleeping. I thought you were really gone.”

Her smile vanished, her face serious. It must have been bad.

“You need to eat this.”

Lemon brought me thin porridge, which I held in my mouth. I couldn’t taste anything. It was bland, almost textureless. I tried to force it down, but my mouth’s torn flesh stung. I’d bitten too hard trying to endure the pain.

“I have no appetite…”

Thinking of Lemon’s effort, I wanted to finish it, but I couldn’t. I set the bowl aside weakly.

“Where’s Bulkan?”

At my question, Lemon let out a heavy haa.

“Mr. Bulkan hasn’t even touched his favorite bones, staying by your side the whole time.”

Her words sparked a memory—the desperate, commanding voice I heard while unconscious. It felt like it grabbed my spine and shook me. Was that really Bulkan?

“He kept asking why you wouldn’t wake up, roaring outside on stormy nights…”

“Roaring?”

“Saying he was pissed, smashing his head against the wall.”

Now that she mentioned it, one wall was cracked. Did he really bash his head there? I smacked my lips, recalling the thud, thud from my sleep. The dream I had while unconscious might not have been just a fantasy.

“Then what?”

I asked, worried.

“He’s passed out from bleeding right now.”

My temples throbbed, and I covered my forehead with my hand. Haa, my sigh followed. It felt like my lifespan was being shaved away.

“Where is he now?”

I tried to get up to find him. As Lemon moved to support me, a grim voice came from behind.

“Odeu.”

Turning, I saw Bulkan, his shoulders soaked with blood.

“Are you crazy? Why’d you smash your head against the wall like a lunatic…”

Step, step. He approached with large strides. His threatening movements made my heart shrink. Was I too harsh? Was he angry? I watched nervously, but his eyes, now close, were dark and lifeless.

“Bul… ka!”

He pulled me into a tight embrace. Thump, thump, thump. His heart pounded heavily against my chest. A heavy silence fell. Lemon glanced around and slipped away.

“You tried to die.”

“…Huh.”

I parted my lips briefly, then closed them. Something weighed on my heart, making it hard to deny.

To be clear, I didn’t actively want to die. I just thought it wouldn’t be so bad. The world wouldn’t change much without me.

“I’m okay now.”

Because now, things were calling for me. I smiled awkwardly, but my lips soon drooped. Even smiling took effort. My body was utterly drained. The drum-like heartbeat against my chest reminded me I was alive.

…I’m really alive.

☀️

The newborns were total bloodballs. All they did was eat, eat, eat, and poop. Even now, after guzzling a whole bottle of milk, they slept soundly in their cribs, snoring.

“Puppies.”

A man, pregnant, giving birth to puppies—it was unimaginable my whole life. Naturally, I didn’t feel a sudden surge of paternal love. I’d need to receive love to know how to give it. Having never felt much family love, they were just sturdy little things to me.

I worried their frail father might have passed on weaknesses, but thankfully, they were unbelievably healthy for two weeks old.

Dark fur, hefty bodies for babies, thick paws. Both looked exactly like Bulkan. Like they were stamped from a mold, the twins were identical, though the first was bigger, especially its paws. It’d be a handful when grown, which worried me no end. I gave them soft names on purpose.

Katharos. It meant “pure” in their language. It felt a bit grand for a baby, so I called it Kakka.

The second was smaller, more sensitive and timid. Its name was Bono, meaning “all is well.”

The first, gluttonous Kakka’s muzzle twitched. Was it waking up? Anxiety grazed my chest.

“Biii.”

Why are bad premonitions never wrong? Kakka woke, whining. It was hungry.

“Bii, bik.”

When the ravenous first woke, the second followed. Both cried bii, bii. As I tried to get up, Lemon stopped me.

“I’ll go! Are our little lords hungry?”

Lemon rushed to the cribs. She tried to sound cheerful, but her eyes were dead.

“Biii!”

Lemon held a pup in each arm. They squirmed wildly.

“Let’s eat some mama!”

Exhausted from childcare, Lemon sighed haa. I raised my heavy arms.

“Lemon, give them to me.”

She looked at me, concerned.

“Your body’s still weak.”

“I’m fine.”

Honestly, I barely had the strength to sit up. But I couldn’t just watch Lemon struggle.

“Bono.”

I called softly, picking up the sensitive second pup. Bii, bii. It cried pitifully but quieted instantly in my arms. Sniffing my scent, it burrowed deeper.

“How do you do that so perfectly?”

Lemon shook her head in resignation, handing me a kettle-like bottle.

“Please.”

I put the n**ple to Bono’s little muzzle. It gripped the bottle with thick paws, gulping milk.

“Tasty?”

It ate so eagerly, white milk smeared its black muzzle. How could it eat so well? It finished the bottle in no time.

“You eat so well.”

Its unripe, pinkish belly was plump. Its claws, still pink, were baby-like. It s**ked my finger, slurp, slurp. It yawned, sleepy now.

“Bii.”

The calmer first pup started whining, growing impatient.

“Give me Kakka too.”

Lemon sighed deeply.

“Your arms will hurt.”

I smiled awkwardly. Once they started whining, puppies cried until held. Lemon, knowing this, handed Kakka over apologetically.

“Pass them back if it’s too much.”

I laid the sleeping Bono in the crib and took Kakka. Its weight strained my bony arms. My bones ached.

“The first lord’s growth is something else.”

Lemon smiled with her mouth only. I couldn’t even smile. Tears welled in my eyes. My shoulders felt like they’d tear. My body was a tattered rag.

“…Grr.”

A dog’s growl came from the hall. Bulkan was back. His maw was stuffed with stolen food.

“Grrr.”

His cold gaze landed on my arms. Dropping the food, he slunk toward me. He lifted Kakka by the scruff with his muzzle.

“Careful, please…”

Kakka’s fur was tough for a baby, but I couldn’t help worrying. When I asked him to be gentle, he snorted, pff. He laid Kakka in the crib and turned human.

“Odeu.”

His fiery eyes peered through rough hair. His solid brown arm pulled my waist.

“I stole your food.”

“…Yeah.”

Held like a child, I sat at the table. How many places had he raided? Kimchi stew, steamed seafood, street food—variety galore.

“Looks tasty.”

I tried to pick up a fork, but my arm, weak, dropped it. Bulkan’s jaw clenched. His eyes flicked to the cribs, gleaming fiercely. No affection was in his gaze at the sleeping pups—only something close to disgust.

Haa, I sighed inwardly.

☀️

Growing pups ate voraciously. They guzzled two bottles each and still chewed the n**ples hungrily.

“Itchy?”

It was early, but their growth was staggering. Checking their muzzles, I saw tiny teeth sprouting. Mixing meat into their milk, their bodies grew daily.

Their mischief escalated. They popped play balls, shattered duck bones, and tore pillows to shreds.

Lemon smiled faintly, madness seeping from her.

“Oh… they’re destroying everything.”

Cleaning up drained my energy. Today, they even stole Haengbok’s grass. Haengbok, foodless, whimpered kaek, kaek in sorrow.

“Haengbok.”

Feeling sorry, I fed it grass piece by piece. It loved it, thrilled to be spoiled after so long.

“Kaek!”

To Haengbok, it must’ve been a shock. I’d kept it in another room so it wouldn’t see my pain, but two puppies were born in the meantime.

“…Kaek.”

I worried how it’d fare, but being a few months older, it l**ked the pups’ fur and pushed balls to play. It got along better than expected, which was a relief. Once so clingy, it now waited calmly, only seeking my touch after the pups slept.

“Kaek, kaek.”

Haengbok wagged its ears, acting cute. Amid the calm, a strange noise came. Crunch. Something was off.

“What’re they breaking now?”

Anxiety made me leap from bed. Looking down, I met black eyes—Kakka, already chewing the crib’s edge.

“No, don’t do that.”

I got up and approached. Thud, thud. Kakka waddled to me, snuggling. Looking for Bono, I saw it chewing my shoe.

“Bii.”

Mouth full of shoe, it begged to be held. These pups weren’t even a month old—unbelievable.

“Up we go.”

I lifted both. My shoulders felt like they’d collapse, so I sat on the bed. They climbed me like a jungle gym. Oddly, they loved my hair, just like Bulkan.

“Stop it.”

I set them down one by one. Even their unripe claws hurt when they dug in. Thinking it was playtime, they climbed more eagerly. Then trouble struck.

Bono, clinging to my back, slid down, its claws raking my skin.

“…Ahh!”

I yelped involuntarily. The pups froze, startled. Bono, scared, backed away, one paw raised.

“It’s not that it hurts.”

I approached carefully, but Bono, timid, crawled under the bed.

Ugh, I messed up. Sighing inwardly, I neared the bed. Trying to lie down, my stomach churned oddly. I lowered my head to peer under.

“Bono.”

The little pup was curled up in the corner, looking dejected. It seemed to blame itself, which broke my heart. Sensitive, it startled easily. I should’ve been more careful.

“Scared?”

I opened my hand slowly. Haengbok poked its head under too.

“Kaek.”

It held grass in its mouth, trying to lure Bono with food.

“Come here, I’ll hold you.”

I made tch, tch sounds. Gaining courage, Bono stepped forward, l**king my finger with its tongue.

A strange feeling stirred my chest. My heart softened. What was this emotion? It was more tender than mere pity.

If they’d been born normally to a dog mother, they wouldn’t be hurt like this. They wouldn’t be startled. I felt so sorry for them.

“It’s okay. When you’re bigger, we’ll trim your claws.”

Speaking gently, Bono slowly came out. Holding it, Haengbok l**ked its fur. Bono chewed grass, playing, regaining confidence.

‘…Haa.’

I sighed inwardly. Lemon hurriedly spoke.

“I’ll grind some herbs quick.”

I nodded eagerly.

Bulkan was busiest lately, frantic with hunting. The pups ate so much, and bringing me food kept him darting east to west.

When he was gone, I got small and big injuries. Each time, his reaction was intense. If he saw the scratch on my back, he wouldn’t stay calm. I planned to treat it before he returned.

“Grr.”

A growl came from the hall. Oh no. What do I do? Panicking, I covered my back with my hand, standing awkwardly as Bulkan entered.

“Odeu.”

He tossed food from his shoulder and strode to me, grabbing my waist. I flinched at the sting on my back.

“Blood?”

He tilted his head. Did he notice? I watched nervously, but his eyes already held sharp suspicion. His instincts were uncanny. Grabbing his arm, I dragged him to the hall. In his dim, sunless room, the damp air made my mouth water.

“…It’s like this.”

He yanked down the strap over my shoulder. The silk garment slid down to my back in one motion. I squeezed my eyes shut. I’m screwed. A grinding crunch followed.

“Filthy things.”

His words were ice-cold. Bulkan hated the pups. No, he despised them. They couldn’t possibly hear from their room, but my face stiffened.

“All they do is eat and s**t, those stupid b**t**ds.”

“Did you put a rag in your mouth or something?”

A raspy, gasping sound came from my throat. The aftermath of being choked made my voice crack like this when I raised it even slightly.

“They keep crawling to you because they can’t understand a d**n thing, huh?”

Of course they do. That’s the instinct and survival method of young animals. Just because he was hunting from birth doesn’t mean he should treat the pups like vermin. I bristled with anger.

“Stop talking like that. They’re just babies…”

A voice from my childhood echoed in my ears.

…Is that really my kid? Why’s its head so red, d**n it! How would I know which Yankee b**t**d you slept with? You filthy s**t. My father, drunk, would insult my dead mother like that. Young as I was, I didn’t fully understand the malice, but I vividly felt the air. That searing hatred… I still remember it clearly, unable to forget.

“Even if they don’t understand, they feel it through expressions, through your voice.”

“Ha, those idiots?”

Bulkan sneered.

“I told you not to hold them.”

He brought his face close to mine. A grim voice fell over the bridge of my nose.

“Should I really kill that horned thing?”

…What? The horrific words dazed me. What had Lemon done wrong?

“Don’t ever talk about Lemon like that again…!”

Raising my voice in anger, I coughed violently. Cough, cough!

“Cough, cough, cough!”

I thought the coughing would stop soon, but it dragged on. Thump, thump. I pounded my chest with my fist. Heat rose to my face. My lungs lacked air.

Losing balance and staggering, Bulkan quickly caught me. Holding me in his arms, he pressed his lips to mine, breathing air into me.

“…Haa.”

I greedily gulped the air he gave. The coughing gradually subsided. My hazy mind cleared.

A heavy silence crossed between us, thick with the tense atmosphere. It was a dense, unbreakable quiet, so we just stood there, chests pressed together.

“Ugh.”

A lingering cough made me clear my throat. Bulkan glared at me fiercely, his eyes bloodshot.

What was he thinking to act like this? Anxious, I lowered my eyes, wrapping my hand around my neck.

“Haa, haa.”

The heated argument ended like that. The air around us was both cold and hot. Bulkan broke the silence first.

“I won’t.”

“What?”

I asked in a shrill voice.

“I won’t talk like that.”

Tch. Bulkan chewed on a curse. His fists trembled. He seemed to be holding back immense anger, or perhaps anxiety. I voiced my doubt. Anxious? Bulkan?

“…Okay.”

I answered faintly.

The meal that followed was quiet. Normally, Bulkan would’ve devoured pounds of meat, but he didn’t glance at the table. He just stared at me intensely.

After eating, Lemon brought herbs, which he chewed and applied to my back. I surrendered to his touch, clothes off.

“…….”

I felt his gaze on my lower belly. It was still slightly swollen. At first, I thought it was just lingering puffiness, nothing serious.

But lately, it seemed to be growing. It wasn’t fat—my limbs were still thin, which was odd. Why?

“What’s wrong?”

“…D**n it.”

I asked, but Bulkan only chewed a curse.

Originally, there were three in my belly. When I woke after fainting, only two were born. I wondered what happened to the third but didn’t ask.

Lemon acted oblivious, and the doctor didn’t elaborate. They likely prioritized my recovery. The mood wasn’t right. Asking would only confirm bad news, so I assumed it died in my womb.

“…Huh.”

But my belly twitched. I covered it with my hand, startled. This wasn’t just indigestion. The sensation of something stirring inside was familiar, etched into my body.

It was faint, but what I felt… was definitely fetal movement?

My navel throbbed. Something seemed to be gently stepping on my insides. It wasn’t my imagination—my thin skin rippled. Shudder. My heart sank at the small movement.

There was definitely something in there, stirring, announcing its presence.

“Bulkan.”

Bulkan was staring at my belly too. His wide eyes looked cold. The thick veins in his neck stood taut.

“They said there were three.”

I should’ve asked earlier, but I couldn’t bring myself to. Everything pointed to the baby being dead. Asking would only bring unbearable answers.

“The last one…?”

With my life in danger, the baby’s survival seemed impossible.

It was hard to believe it could live. Lemon fretted if I moved even slightly, and the doctor kept clucking his tongue.

What if it all meant the opposite?

“I thought it was dead. Why do I feel movement?”

A pitch-black silence fell.

“Is it still in there?”

His sunken eyes met mine.

“Bulkan.”

I grabbed and shook his hot arm, demanding answers, asking if I was right.

“D**n tough life.”

His words, leaking through twisted lips, were sharp.

“Yeah, there’s one pup left in your belly.”

My vision blurred. My mind went blank.

They say painful memories are easily forgotten, but not for me. I still remember that day’s air vividly.

It felt like being burned alive, or plunged into icy water. I fought death every second. When I saw the blood at the end, I thought I was done. The pain was like tearing raw flesh.

It made sense—trying to pull a boulder from a piggy bank with a small slot would strain the bank.

“It’s really still alive.”

I let the words spill like a sigh. Mixed emotions hit me. The ordeal wasn’t over. I’d have to go through it again. Honestly, I was scared. Experiencing pain unknowingly versus knowing it beforehand—there’s a world of difference.

But I was also relieved. It wasn’t my weakness that killed the child.

“Your bride’s carrying three pups. Did you know one’s half-crippled?”

The Priest’s words flashed in my mind.

I’d worried if any pup was sickly. Thankfully, the born pups were healthy, unbelievably so. If there was a sick one, it must be the unborn one.

Since I was frail, I thought it died without seeing light. It haunted me. Though I never saw its face, I felt unwarranted guilt. If only I weren’t so weak.

That’s why I lay awake every night, tossing in bed.

“Human, huh.”

“What?”

I doubted my ears. He circled me, eyeing my body like a predator.

“Humans carry for ten months, right?”

I was speechless. An unexpected possibility. Human? Bulkan always wanted four-legged heirs like him—strong, fast, massive.

“It’s stubbornly clinging to your belly’s cave. Keep carrying it, and your life’s done.”

My mind tangled. I curled my fingers, clenching a fist, but lacked strength to hold it. I probably couldn’t even grasp air now.

“The doctor said he’d cut it out.”

“What about the baby?”

Thump, thump. My pulse pounded in my ears.

“Will it die?”

A shrill voice escaped. Bulkan’s eyes widened terrifyingly. My face reflected in his large pupils, though I couldn’t see my expression. I picked at the rough skin around my nails, malnourished. Drip, drip. Blood oozed as I tore.

“I…”

I didn’t know what to do. Having nearly died once, I couldn’t rashly say I’d give birth. It was like digging for gold in barren land, turning everything upside down.

“My head hurts.”

The mental stress made my head throb. A human baby. So that’s why the Priest called it half-crippled. Everything he said came true, heading in his predicted direction.

“Is the Priest… dead?”

“Yeah.”

My tongue felt stiff. So he did die that day.

“That dog will kill me.”

His grim words were still vivid.

“And furious Hecate will demand you as a sacrifice.”

Should I tell Bulkan? It might’ve just been to provoke him. If it sparked something bigger, maybe I should stay quiet. I didn’t know what to do anymore.

“I didn’t kill him right away. I hung him on Olympus. A hawk ate his heart.”

Bulkan didn’t smile anymore. He looked like a dormant volcano, holding rage that could erupt anytime.

“If he choked my bride, he should’ve offered his whole neck.”

His eyes fixed on my throat. I subtly covered it with my hand, hiding the skin. A faint sting crawled over it.

My neck still bore handprints from the Priest’s choke. Compared to his wounds, it was nothing, but I couldn’t understand why Bulkan was so angry and fixated.

Recalling the Priest led to his predictions. Were they all true? Could he have lied? Was there a way to escape his prophecy? Why did he come here, knowing he’d die? I couldn’t find the reason.

“Why did the Priest come that day? He knew he’d die.”

How did he predict his own fate? Muttering to myself, I shivered, scanning my surroundings nervously. Bulkan looked puzzled.

“That’s what he was made for.”

Made for it. I stared at him blankly at the simple explanation.

“He was created to deliver the gods’ will.”

“He said he was cherished by the goddess. If he knew he’d die…”

I spoke quickly. Unable to breathe properly, I swayed. Haa, haa. My breath quickened. A strong arm gripped my waist. A voice hovered over my nose.

“Do you care if a dull knife gets thrown away?”

He equated a lifeless knife to the Priest. I was speechless at his cold eyes.

“Knife…”

My lower belly, pressed against him, felt taut. I secretly clutched it. …Tool.

☀️

Back at the crib, the two pups were sprawled, noses buried in my clothes. Kakka, just awake, leaped to me, eyes puffy.

“Bii.”

Bii, bii. It whined—a sleepy tantrum. Waking in a dark room without me must’ve been lonely. It snuggled, placing paws on my chest, kissing me. Its small tongue frantically l**ked my cheeks and eyes.

“Sorry, were you scared?”

Haengbok, having stolen food, had grass on its muzzle. I brushed it off. Despite their size, they were still babies needing to be held. Feeling calm, I watched as Kakka playfully bit and shook my finger. Unable to handle its strength, it toppled backward, exposing its pink belly. It was cute, so I smiled faintly.

I felt eyes from the bedding. It was Bono, still nosing my clothes, tail wagging, watching me.

“Bono.”

I called it over, and it approached, wagging its tail. It placed chubby paws on my chest, l**king my cheek.

“Bii.”

Even as babies, their pushing strength was no joke. I had to brace my thighs to avoid falling. It felt like a weight on me. Why did I keep having more to protect? I was incapable, and that terrified me.

Feeling fear again, my belly twinged. Fetal movement. The pups looked curious, sensing the movement, staring at my belly. Kakka pressed its nose to it.

“Ah!”

Pushed by Kakka, I fell backward. Sitting on my b**t, I grimaced slightly. The pups looked startled. I felt bitter, unsure what to do. Knocked over by a three-week-old pup—how pathetic.

I felt a piercing gaze in the dark. Bulkan, slinking like a goblin, lifted me. His sharp fangs glinted. I quickly blocked him.

“You said you wouldn’t.”

His jaw twitched. Normally, he’d bare his teeth and threaten, muttering curses.

But Bulkan only clenched his fists, holding back. Unbelievably, he kept his promise. In pain, he stomped the floor with a thud.

☀️

While the pups played with Haengbok in the crib, the village doctor examined me. He usually couldn’t leave due to patients, but my frail state, like the last leaf on a branch, forced Lemon to fetch him.

I lay on the bed, rolling my clothes up. Cold air hit my skin in chunks.

“Hmm, let’s see.”

A stranger’s eyes scanned my skin. The doctor prodded my belly, checking its condition. Tense, I flinched.

“D**n it.”

Bulkan, with wolf heads on his shoulders, shifted his hips. His fierce eyes locked on my belly—or rather, the doctor’s hands on it. He looked ready to pounce if anything went wrong.

Fortunately or not, the doctor was blind and didn’t see.

“…….”

I fidgeted with my fingers. My belly had swollen more. Showing it to others made me uneasy. It wasn’t the first time the doctor checked me, but after the village incident, I always felt like this.

Tch.

After examining me, the doctor clucked his tongue.

“Simply put, it’s like an egg holding a boulder.”

I asked quietly, “What does that mean?”

He rubbed his eyes tiredly, sockets sunken.

“What happens when the boulder grows?”

The eggshell would shatter. It’d break into pieces. At the horrific image, I buried my face in the pillow.

“Not much time left. If the fetus grows more, surgery will endanger the mother.”

Decision time was near. My mind tangled. As I rolled my eyes anxiously, they met Bulkan’s.

“…….”

His pupils were wide, chest taut like a bowstring, ready to spring at a gunshot. Uncharacteristically, he looked anxious.

“Keep your body warm and don’t lose weight.”

The doctor stood with his cane, preparing to leave. I rose to guide him.

“Sorry for making you come all this way. It must be a hassle.”

He waved me off, telling me to stay.

“Don’t come to the village for a while. An old couple was found dead.”

“An old couple?”

My eyes widened at the sudden news. I thought of an old couple from the village, then shook my head, picturing the many elderly there.

“They say the land’s dry this year. Starving predators must’ve attacked. It’s dangerous, so be careful.”

With the drought, theft had increased, and now starving animals were raiding homes. Despite bad memories from the village, I felt uneasy, knowing poverty too well.

“Be careful going back.”