The Dog StarMature

Loneliness is a cruel mistress.

“What have I done?”


Murderer…

he could not escape the term, even this far from civilization. 

He could not stop himself from killing.

Silas stared down at his trap, and saw the wolf lying dead. A young cub nudging it gently, as if trying to wake her.

His eyes welled up and he fell to his knees. 

“Oh god…what have I done?” His head hung low. 

Had he hunted for the animal himself…there would be no such incident. 

He reached out for the young cub, but it cried out and Silas looked around in a panic. 

Nothing.


“No more of these damned traps….NO MORE!” 

   He scooped up the trap he had fashioned of wood and rope and brought it with him to the camp and threw it in the flames of his fireplace.

Returning to the wolf, he scooped her up into his arms and brought her home. The cub followed his mother.

Silas tried to shoo the wolf cub away, but he would do no such thing.

How could he? He wants his mother to wake up.


So imagining the cub’s confusion, as Silas began to dig, made him weep even more.

He fell to his knees and whispered gentle words to the wolf as he lowered her into a grave. A mountain man would have skinned her. He considered it, but thought it inappropriate to do so in front of the cub. 

He buried the wolf, and the cub tried to dig her out a number of times. It was a heart wrenching sight. Desperation for the love of one’s mother, Silas knew the feeling. He wished his mother was here, able to console him like she used to before he became this monster. He remembered her lullaby,

“Sleep little Silas, Sleep little angel. 
Close your eyes and dream away.
Remember my beloved little angel,
The love of angels is here to stay.” 

He tried to complete it, to sing it to the cub. But he couldn’t.

But it didn’t matter anyway. The cub was asleep. And Silas dried his eyes and smiled faintly. 

This was the first night in years he did not converse with the skies. 

He held the cub in his arms and brought him inside. 

And to make up for his renaming of the star, he decided. 

“Sleep well, little Sirius.”

He decided he would dare to allow himself a little light of companionship in this lonely life. 


And this companion would allow Silas some comfort.


Comfort, the thing which had long escaped Silas, had now found its way into his life.
Albeit in a tragic way, but it seems that two sons of tragedy were destined to be companions. And I don’t think either of them, Sirius or Silas, minded that.

The End

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