The baby is an angel. We have fallen into a rhythm of caring for her as Anders milks the goat and I change the cloths she wears. He has timidly watched as I feed her with the special cup, though he has not tried to attempt to feed her himself yet. Things are well and we have been blessed by the Gods, but tonight is the full moon.
He has seemed unsure all day, almost like he’s scared. He hasn’t spoken much at all as he’s tended to our little farm.
“Anders,” I call softly and he comes over to meet me at the fence. “I need you to let me milk the goat today. You’ll be gone tonight, and I need to know that I can do it.”
He’s so tense as he looks down at me and nods once. “Next time she is hungry I will let you.”
He turns and goes back to the plants without another word. I climb thr
