. . .·.·.· ¤ ·.·.·. . .

I did not sleep well. I dreamed that I was being chased by tigers. I was walking along and found... What are they called again? Cubs? No. Yeah, cubs. Anyway, I found a tiger cub and started to play with him. He was so cute! I do not know how long we played, but sooner than I wanted, I heard a roar behind me. I turned around and saw a very angry madre. Naturally, I ran for my life. I tripped and was about to fall on my face when I woke up.

The moon was beginning to set, so I decided to stay awake. Mama was staring at the moon with an odd expression on her face. Our eyes met and she busied herself with shrinking the fire. As the sun rose, a golden light washed over us. Mama paused her work and stared at it. I swear that I saw a tear leaving her eye, but when I looked again, it as gone. Japan woke and we ate. She gave Germany broth while we ate meat. We each drank sparingly. Then we packed up and left.

Four days passed without too much out of the ordinary. The waist-high grass was beginning to shorten. By the sixth day, it was ankle-high and sparse in rocky soil. Trees were thicker leaved and less shy as well. I could see one not half of a kilometer from another.

The seventh day was strange. It started as bright as any other day. By early afternoon, though, dark clouds began to form. Mama had us stop by a particularly well-leafed tree.

Mama unpacked one of the makeshift supply bags and packed the materials into the other two. We helped her spread the cloth about half a meter from the trunk of the tree. Japan helped her unburden Aysel, who laid against the trunk. They laid Germany next to her on the cloth. We spread the large cloth in front of the other. Mama knelt in the middle of it and we sat on the smaller one to observe.

Mama knelt in the middle, cupping her hands over her mouth and nose. She looked as if she were praying. After a few moments, she placed her hands palm-down, side by side in front of her. With silent grace, she slid them from her. When they got to the hem, they parted ways and continued to the corners. Then she brought them back toward her, following the edges of the cloth. When they were on either side of her, Mama drew her hands to her calves. Raising herself to her knees, she moved back a decimeter and brought her hands together on the center of the cloth. On her knees again, Mama turned herself around and repeated the process for the other side, her hands never breaking contact with it.

Mama stood, lifting the cloth. I blinked, and somehow the cloth was up. One side was tied to the trunk of the tree, while the opposite side was weighed down by our supplies, making a lean-to. I know I did not suddenly fall asleep, because Japan looked just as confused as me. Mama was sitting before us, cross-legged with her hands on her knees. Here eyes were closed and her head, tilted back. Japan and I shared a glance and waited.

Mama's eyes shot open. The sky outside was much darker than her eyes as the rain began to fall. She leaned forward and whispered, "Forgive me." Japan's face darkened, and I was absolutely confused. She stood and stepped to the left opening of the shelter. With her back to us, she grasped the hem of her shirt. Japan hastily looked at the ground. Her tunic was dropped beside our supplies, followed by her pants. Mama was shadow, only her hair indicating otherwise. She stepped out into the rain. I leaned closer to Japan and and whispered, "You know, there is nothing to see. Mama is a shadow!" His face reddened as he looked at me. "Why were you even looking?!", he whispered back. When I shrugged, I heard him murmur something along the lines of, "I will never understand Western culture."

I peeked around the edge of the cloth, into the downpour. About two meters away, Mama stood with her back to us, her head thrown back and hands outstretched. I jumped as she spoke. I recognized some words in Japanese, then in Italian, in German, Italian again, ending in Japanese. A lot of them were drowned out by the rain. Mama paused for a few moments before she began to sing. I was starting to get wet, so I retreated the rest of the way inside. Japan stared wide-eyed at the cloth in front of us. We sat and listened.

. . .

In all of the world meetings I have taken part of, I have never heard the language Mama sang in. I recognized what could have been the roots of the Latin or Celtic languages, but her tongue sounded... older. I felt myself being lulled into a state between waking and sleep. Italy was in a similar state beside me. Mama's voice was beautiful. I was slightly surprised when she dropped into octaves I was certain that only males could sing. Her song rose and fell, reminding me of a pendulum.

My trance was broken when her singing stopped, punctuated by a dull thud and a grunt. The sound of rain filled the space before I heard heavy panting slowly approaching. I quickly averted my eyes as I saw a black foot come into view. I focused on a root just outside until red spots made themselves known on the cloth. Mama fell on her knees, exhaling sharply. I did not have time to look away before my vision was met by... shadow? My eyes jumped to Italy as I mentally berated the treacherous things.

Beside me, he was close to hyperventilating. "B-b-b-blood?! Mama! Why are you bleeding?! Where are you hurt?! Mama? Mama! Look at me! Where are you hurt?! Japan? She isn't responding! Will she be okay?!" Mama was leaning forward on her hands, still panting. She brought a shaking hand up and rested it on Italy's head. He stopped his frantic movements and looked into her eyes, his own spilling tears. She mouthed, 'Calm'.

Removing her hand, Mama reached toward her tunic and put it on. It reached to the middle of her thigh, so I thought it safe to look her in the face. She looked at me and mouthed, 'Please forgive me.' I nodded and she smiled tiredly.

When her breathing calmed, I asked, "Are you hurt?" She shook her head and whispered, "No. I lost too much blood. Calm, Italy. I am fine." His eyes were wide as he asked, "If you lost blood, then how are you fine?" Mama sighed and replied, "I traded blood for voice. I asked Sister Rain if I could use her energy. In exchange, my blood would nourish the soil beneath me." Italy nodded, but he still seemed lost. She continued, "Through her, I voiced my plea to Brother Sun and Sister Moon. In exchange, I sang for them as in olden times. It has been so long since I last sang. I got carried away and lost too much blood."

I thought back to her chanting and asked, "Mama, could you please translate what you said earlier?" She nodded and sat up straighter. Then she whispered, "On behalf of ye I speak: Son of Life, Son of Death. Grant us strength, grant us breath. Son of Darkness, grant us light. Wrap us in eternal night. Son of Light, with us stay. Keep hateful darkness forever at bay. Brother Sun, Sister Moon. Of ye both I ask this boon. Grant us guidance, grant us sight. Be it day, be it night."

Before us, Mama fell forward. Italy began freaking out again. After a few moments, she propped herself on her elbows, panting. "Mama! Are you alright?" Italy was staring at her wide-eyed. Between breaths, she whispered something in the same strange language. Italy backed up slightly and said, "I... I do not understand. Mama?" She looked at him, then at me. Her eyes became pupiless as she hissed, "The blonde one is ill, nearing death. Two days of travel will bring us to civilization. Rest."

With that, she fell asleep, followed by Italy. I tried to resist, but the ground rushed up to meet me, darkness close upon its heels.

· · ·.·.·. ¤ .·.·.· · .·