Y’all Never Seen a Wet Otter Before?

How long had he been here?

Kneeling next to his mother's bed, Arlo held his mother's bandaged hands with his own bandaged right hand.

No words were shared, no tears shed.

His mother simply smiled at him, the silence that hung over them was periodically broken by her pained coughs.

After what felt like forever, she finally broke the silence.

"Have I ever told you. You truly are, my most precious…" Her words fell away as the woman's eyes lost focus.

Arlo looked up to his mother. Gently pulling his hand away from her own, he tentatively reached up to her face. Closing her eyes.

Sitting on the floor, Arlo covered his face with his hands. Opening his mouth, Arlo was about to make a sound when the pain in his wrist flared up. Arlo grunted, clutching his wrist. As he bristled from the pain, Arlo's eyes moved over a small glass bottle on his mother's nightstand.

Within this jar were a handful of small dull yellow crystals kept inside by a cork stopper.

Using his left hand to push off the ground, Arlo stood up. Swiping the glass bottle from the nightstand. Arlo moved to leave.

The place where Arlo and his mother lived wasn't big by any extent of the imagination. With two bedrooms, a small living space and an even smaller bathroom. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

Putting the bottle in his coat, Arlo unhooked the hood of his coat from the coat stand before swinging it around and putting it on.

Opening the door, Arlo stopped partway through the door. Looking back into his dark home. Arlo looked down.

How can something be called a home if it has no heart?

Slamming the door shut, Arlo locked it. Glumly looking at the keys in his hand.

Tilting his hand, Arlo let the keys drop onto the floor.

Exhaling a long breath, he turned away.

Putting his hands in his coat pockets, he walked down the dirt path that lead from his home to the stables that held his and his mother's horses. Arlo's expression soured, seeing three men from the Red Sky group standing in the middle of the path.

Looking at the ground, he turned his head, stopping in front of the men.

The one man leaning against his horse walked a few steps up to Arlo, a large shit-eating grin spread across his lips, which showed a couple of nasty teeth. "Sup kid, you here to give us the money you owe?"

"I was going into town to buy more medicine-"

The man pushed a fat finger into Arlo's chest, causing him to stagger back slightly.

"With what money," The thug kept prodding Arlo, pushing him back more and more as he spoke. "How could you possibly buy more medicine when you still owe us our, money!" On the last word, the thug roughly shoved Arlo, causing the poor boy to land on his ass with a thud.

Wincing, instead of reaching for his behind, Arlo held his wrist. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the bottle of dull yellow crystals.

Seeing this, the thug grabbed Arlo's right wrist, yanking it upwards. The pain causing Arlo to yelp.

"Well lookie here lads. The kid's going out to buy more medicine when he already has some." Taking the bottle from Arlo, he looked at the crystals. "This is at least a week's worth. You know we've been nice and considerate, especially with your mother's ailing condition." Shaking the bottle, he let go of Arlo's wrist. "Tell ya what, we'll give you one more week. Then we're going to reclaim the assets owed to us." Looking to his associates, the man shrugged. "Sounds fair no?"

The other thugs snickered.

Looking up, Arlo unapologetically spoke to the man. "Can I have those back then?"

Hearing this, the thug let out a hearty laugh.

Striking Arlo's chin with his boot, the thug kicked the already down boy.

"Fucker thinks he can talk back." Spitting at Arlo, the thug turned to his cronies. "Come on, boys, home time."

All Arlo could hear was the smacking of the horse's hooves on the dirt path as they rode off.

Staring up at the sky, Arlo wished he could die, that the dull blue sky would just open up, open up and just devour him.

That one of those monsters that had taken his father would come and take him too.

Coming back to his senses, Arlo shook his head, feeling the sting from his chin. Whilst the pain certainly hurt, it was nothing compared to the pain coming from his right arm.

Sitting up, Arlo rubbed his chin with his left hand, he looked at his right wrist as he did so. The bandages had been loosened slightly when the thug pulled on it.

Arlo glared at his wrist, at a purple blotch, like a stain on his light skin.

His left eye twitched, motivating him to wrap the bandage tighter.

Finished, he clenched his right fist. The pain had lessened, for now. Still ever-present.

Picking himself up, Arlo dusted himself off, he continued to the stables.

Unlike his conversation with the thugs, Arlo's voice lightened up slightly. "Melina, Marika, who wants to help me get into town? Who knows, you might get a nice apple or two whilst we're there."

Turning into the stable, Arlo's slight smile evaporated as his vision wavered, the two horses lay collapsed on the ground.

Rushing to Melina's side, Arlo dropped to his knees.

Blood pooled around the beautiful horse's head.

Her throat had been slit, Marika's too.

Only one group in this area would do such a thing.

Arlo shook as he clenched his fists. Wanting to scream, wanting to cry, Arlo forced himself to calm down.

He knew there was no use in crying over the dead, they wouldn't be able to hear it.

Closing Melina's eyes, Arlo held a hand on Melina's mane for a moment. Exhaling, he moved to Marika. Again, Arlo closed the old horse's eyes and then held a hand on Marika's mane.

Arlo wanted to stay here, with the last thing he could have called family.

But Arlo knew if he didn't start walking now, night would fall long before he reached the town.

And you never want to be caught out in the dark.

----

A storm had caught Arlo as he was eight hours (25 miles) away from the town.

Whilst he might have been drenched through to his skin, it was a welcome distraction.

Trudging through the empty street, Arlo made his way to a place his mother had always loved.

The tavern.

Practically kicking the door open, the bustle of people within the tavern fell quiet as thunder crackled in the distance.

Slamming the door shut behind him, Arlo left wet muddy footprints as he approached the bar.

Seeing Arlo, the bartender shouted at her patrons.

"What, y'all never seen a wet otter before!"

With this, the patrons returned to their prior conversations.

As Arlo sat down on a free bar stool, the bartender cycled up to him.

Her name was Delilah. Delilah and Arlo's mother had been friends for well over two decades, Arlo's mother had always joked that Delilah was the closest thing the boy had to an auntie. It's the reason Arlo's mother frequented this tavern so much. They could gossip, drink and laugh when one of them had too much to drink.

Although Arlo had never been too fond of Delilah. She always talked too much.

"Arlo, good to see you." The woman's expression was bright and cheery, her bubbly voice caused Arlo's right eye to twitch. "Last time I saw your mother, she said you both were going to be nipping round for a drink or two. How come you're here so late, you know it's going to be nightfall soon. And why are you all wet, you must have left home at a really unfortunate time to be caught out in that shit storm, I mean look at you, there's more water in your clothes than in all my patrons bladders combined." Laughing at her own joke, she noticed Arlo's sour expression. "Aww what's up kid it was only a joke, what's got you looking so gloomy? I mean, you usually look gloomy, but today you're looking extra, extra gloomy."

Delilah's question only caused Arlo's expression to grow gloomier.

Having been staring at the wooden counter, Arlo repeated the question under his breath. "Why am I so gloomy? In the span of one day, I've been caught out in a thunderstorm, my horses have had their throats slit, the corruption in my arm shows no signs of slowing down, and some thugs stole the medicine I needed." Arlo gritted his teeth. "And to top it all off, my mother has finally passed away from the corruption which has been plaguing her for years." Arlo looked up to Delilah as he forced himself not to break down, as he forced himself not to cry. "Would you say that's a good enough reason to look gloomy?"

Delilah's bubbly smile disappeared as she braced herself against the counter.

"Oh."