Mella & Rufian

The little boy burst through the door, panting heavily, his cheeks flushed from the cold. "Mom, Dad! There's a girl stuck in the snow!" His voice was laced with urgency.

Outside, Rufian bounded energetically, barking and circling excitedly as if trying to guide them to the girl. His instinctual determination radiated from him, urging the adults to follow.

With a sense of purpose, the parents donned their snow gear, the crunch of boots on snow punctuating their swift movements. "Stay here, son. We'll be right back," the father reassured the boy before stepping into the wintry landscape with Rufian leading the way.

The woods were clad in a thick blanket of fresh snow, glistening under the muted light of a cloudy sky. Rufian paused, his nose to the ground, sniffing intently before he suddenly stopped, alert and focused. In the distance, they found Mella, a small figure nestled in a pile of snow, her skin an alarming shade of blue, contrasting starkly with the white around her.

"Oh dear!" exclaimed the mother, her heart racing as she rushed to the child. Bundled in heavy headgear and a puffy coat, she knelt beside Mella. Even in the biting cold, the girl was burning up, her breath coming in shallow gasps, and her pulse weak but present. The woman's hand felt like ice as it brushed against the girl's cold skin, igniting a sense of urgency in her.

Without hesitation, she quickly shed her coat and wrapped it around Mella, hoping to provide warmth against the encroaching chill. "We need to move fast. A snowstorm is brewing, and she needs to be somewhere warm," she instructed, her voice steady yet urgent.

"You did great, Bone," the father praised, affectionately patting Rufian's head. "You must have sensed she was in trouble. It's strange how you knew exactly where to find her, buddy. When we get back to the house, I'll treat you to something special—maybe a delicious whole rotisserie!" His voice was warm with gratitude and pride.

Rufian barked happily, his tail wagging furiously as they prepared to head back, both ready to help the little girl and proud of their faithful companion.

I feel so warm

Mella slowly opened her eyes, her vision hazy as she discerned a blurry figure gently ringing out a wet towel to place on her forehead. The warmth of the cloth brought forth a wave of memories, and tears welled in her eyes as she imagined her mother softly caring for her when she was ill. The aching absence of her mother weighed heavily on her heart, and as she squeezed her eyes shut once more, she drifted into a deep, restless sleep. "Mama," she mumbled, the word escaping her lips just before she surrendered to the darkness.

The woman beside her turned her head, concern etched across her face as she laid the warm rag on the little girl's forehead, tucking her in with careful tenderness. "This poor child," she murmured softly, her heart aching for Mella. "Where did she come from? Where is her family?" These thoughts swirled like a storm in her mind, unanswered questions echoing in the charged silence of the room.

Nearby, Rufian laid his head possessively on Mella's stomach, above the soft sheets, his worry etched into every line of his face. His ears drooped slightly, and he let out a small whine, sensing her fragile state. As Mella lifted her head, he noticed the woman approach and gently touch the girl's forehead with a motherly tenderness. Rufian could feel the tension lessening in Mella's breath; it was no longer a struggle but instead became a steady, rhythmic rise and fall. The hope for her recovery ignited a spark within him, keeping him clinging to the possibility of her waking, his loyal heart unwavering.

Mella stood alone in a desolate clearing, the chill of the evening air prickling her skin. She took off down a winding path, glancing back at her village, its small lights twinkling like stars scattered across the horizon. With each hurried step, water splashed around her ankles, mixing with the vision of the village fading further into the distance. She ran until her lungs burned, her heart pounding in her chest, but suddenly her feet came to a halt. A chilling realization swept over her: the village had vanished, and with it, any trace of her family.

The sound of a loud bark jolted her from her thoughts. Mella blinked awake, only to find herself in an unfamiliar room, its pale walls bathed in soft, warm light. As she sat up, a damp towel slipped from her forehead, pooling on her lap. Confused, she looked around and called out, "Rufian, where are we?"

Rufian, leaped down from the bed, barking excitedly as he dashed into the hallway. Suddenly, a little boy and a woman stepped into the room. The boy clung to the woman's side, his wide eyes filled with uncertainty.

"Hello there, little girl," the woman said with genuine warmth. "We found you outside—well, actually, this brave dog led us to you." Her voice was soothing, but edged with concern. "You were very sick. Can you tell us where your parents are?"

Mella lowered her gaze, her fists clenched tightly in her lap. "I... I don't know," she managed to say, her voice trembling as tears threatened to spill. "One moment the village was there, and in the blink of an eye, it just… disappeared." The weight of confusion pressed heavily on her chest, as she struggled to make sense of it all. "Sometimes I think something is wrong with my mind… Maybe I imagined having a family. Rufian is the only reason I've made it this far."

The little boy, his confidence rekindled, chimed in proudly, "I found him! His name isn't whatever you said it was. I named him Bone because he loves eating chicken bones." He stood with his hands on his hips, a playful grin on his face. Then, making a silly expression, he stuck his tongue out at Mella before darting behind his father, seeking safety.

The man and the woman exchanged glances that spoke of unspoken truths and something akin to concern, a weighty silence enveloping the room. Mella felt a prickle of unease rise within her. "Is something wrong?" she asked, her voice steady but curious.

"How about you stay here with us? We've always wanted a daughter," the woman suggested abruptly, her tone earnest yet tinged with something Mella couldn't quite decipher. "Your dog seems to like it here too. We've had him for just a few days."

Rufian barked in agreement, turning to Mella with an encouraging gaze. She looked back at him, feeling a swell of uncertainty bubble within her. But as she watched the boy's eager attachment to Rufian, and noticed how unfazed her dog seemed by the whole situation, a flicker of hope began to light within her. "I g-guess that would be fine," she said slowly, her voice soft but tinged with resolve.