The Birth of the Lamb

“It’s beautiful.” Will breathed, the smile carved deep lines into his chubby cheeks and Hannibal committed the image to memory. His fingers found a small sharp stone, dusting off the wood that remained between them, he began to score into the surface. Will watched intently, reading out loud as the words were revealed.

“Some… butterflies… live .. for… two ….days.” He paused, waiting for Hannibal to finish the next sentence. “Carpe Diem?” Will looked thoughtful for a second, then met the older boy's eyes, “Seize the day.” Hannibal gave a pleased smile. Will looked out over the water for a moment before his eyes came to rest on the butterfly in his palm. Deep within his own mind, the older boy waited for what would come. “At least they are free. They fly . They love , however a butterfly does. What did he get?” The ‘he’ that Will referred to was the dog. Hannibal returned to write again, just one word.

“Compassion.” Will said softly, Hannibal nodded. The younger boy’s chin dropped to his chest and his eyes closed. A deep breath moved through the small body as he steadied his emotions, the butterfly took off, dancing back across the water. They watched until they could see the thing no more.