"Martha, why?" Her husband's voice was low, but firm.
"What do you mean why?" Martha snapped back, her voice rising sharply with emotion. "Is it everyone you see on the street that you just… pick up and bring into our home?" he asked, crossing his arms.
Martha gave him a hard stare. A stare filled with disappointment. "How could you say that? She's a child. A girl who doesn't even have a home to call her own."
Before she could go on, Eugene interrupted her, trying to explain. "It's not like that, you have to listen to me, I'm just saying..."
"Don't speak like I'm doing something wrong," Martha cut in, voice sharp with resolve. "Her mother is dead, Eugene. Burned. And now you want to leave her too?"
"Don't try to behave like you're a saint" Eugene said flatly. "The only reason you took her in is because of Jane not her"
"So, what?" Her eyes shimmered, but she didn't blink. "If you want her gone, then I'm leaving this house with her."
Eugene sighed. He looked away for a moment, hands on his hips. He wasn't cruel, just conflicted. Torn between responsibility and fear of change.
He turned back to her, eyes tired. "You're putting me in a tight situation... but fine. I give my approval. She can stay."
Martha exhaled, calmer now. "In time, you'll grow to love her. I promise."
*******
Two Weeks Later
"Wake up!" Ares shouted into Dawn's ear. Dawn's eyes shot open, and she screamed, grabbing her pillow and smacking him with it.
"What the heck was that Ares?!"
Ares rolled his eyes like it was the most normal way to wake someone up. "It's been two weeks since you arrived. You should be used to this by now. Now hurry, before it will soon be time for breakfast!"
Still groggy, Dawn pulled herself from bed and got dressed. Over the past week, she and Ares had become surprisingly close, like chaos and calm trying to learn to live in the same room.
They snuck past Martha and Eugene and headed into the forest. Lush green trees towered above them, and golden leaves crunched beneath their feet. The forest buzzed with life—birds chirped, squirrels darted, and the scent of wild herbs lingered in the air.
Ares was jumping up and down like a kid that has struck gold.
"Dawn, do you know about the legend that says this forest is cursed and who ever ventures in here shall be cursed." His smile grew wider as he continued. "That is a load of lies"
"Remind me why we're here again?" Dawn asked, ducking under a low branch.
"To learn how to hunt," Ares replied, grinning like a proud master.
"And why do we need to learn to hunt?" Dawn asked, one brow raised. "Oh, you poor, innocent child," Ares said, shaking his head dramatically. "You know nothing about the world. We hunt to survive. We hunt... to make money."
Dawn rolled her eyes. "Don't treat me like a baby. You're one year older than me."
Ares raised a finger like a professor about to drop knowledge. "One year... is a lot. Do you know how many wars and diseases we survived in that one year? You were still in the womb while I—"
She stared at him like he had fully lost his mind. "I'm very sure you don't even know what happened in that year."
"Shush," Ares whispered suddenly, crouching low. "You hear that? Something's coming."
"I sw**r, you're just ignoring me on purpose..."
"Shush."
"No! You can't just shush m..."
"Shush!" he insisted again, gesturing toward the trees.
Dawn fumed, her arms crossed but said nothing. They crouched behind a large rock, bows in hand, ready. Silence fell around them, broken only by rustling leaves.
After what felt like an eternity, Ares huffed. "What kind of animal takes this long? How boring."
"Shush!" Dawn hissed back, mocking his voice. "It's coming."
Finally, a small white pup limped out from behind a bush, whimpering in pain. It was thin, scared, and clearly injured.
"There's our target," Ares whispered. He raised his bow, ready to strike. "Quick, we get it while it's weak!"
But before he could shoot, Dawn grabbed his arm. "Stop! It's hurt!"
Ares resisted. "We have to kill it!" They struggled briefly, and Ares still let his arrow fly, but it missed, embedding into the fallen leaves with a dull thud. "Ugh! I missed because of you!" he groaned. Dawn ignored him. She walked to the injured pup, knelt beside it, and began inspecting its wounds.
Ares stomped over. "What are you doing? You're not a physician."
"No, but my mama was. She taught me a lot." She started searching the nearby area for herbs, whispering to herself as she picked a few.
Ares watched in silence, a little fascinated. "You really know what you're doing," he said.
"Yeah. Mama and I used to come out here early in the morning. She said herbs are at their best before sunrise." Dawn spoke gently; her eyes focused on the pup.
Time passed quietly as she cleaned and wrapped its wounds with improvised bandages. Then Ares asked, "Wait, you're not actually going to bring that thing back, are you?"
"Of course I am," Dawn replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Ares laughed nervously. "Papa hates animals. He'll never let that thing inside the house."
Dawn glanced at him, eyes full of determination. "Then we sneak it in. No one has to know."
Ares nodded reluctantly. "You and Mama really have a habit of bringing homeless things into the house." Dawn froze. The words hung in the air. She stood slowly, pup in her arms, and just stared at him. "...I'm sorry for being a homeless thing your mother found on the road."
She turned and began walking away. Ares' eyes widened, and guilt washed over his face. "Dawn, wait I didn't mean it like that. I was joking!"
"You meant it," she said quietly.
Ares ran after her. "Dawn, I'm sorry."
She didn't reply. When they reached the front of the house, Dawn gently placed the pup in her bag, whispering for it to stay quiet. Together, they tiptoed inside thinking they'd succeeded only to find Martha sitting on the couch, arms folded. "Where have you two been?" she asked, voice calm but firm.
"We were… out playing," Ares blurted, trying to sound casual.
Martha just sighed. "Go wash up. Dinner's almost ready." The two kids nodded, heading to their rooms without another word. Dawn kept her head down, her hand resting on the bags zipper.