"What is it, Leelyloo? Is it the Plan?"
"I don't care! Moggadeet, don't you love me?"
"I fear! I fear to harm you! You are so tiny. I am your Mother."
"No Moggadeet, look! I am as big as you are. Don't be afraid."
I drew back-Oh, hard, hard! — and tried to look calmly.
"True, my redling, you have grown. But your limbs are so new, so tender. Oh, I can't look!"
Averting my eyes I began to spin a screen of silk, to shut away your maddening redness.
"We must wait, Lilliloo. We must go on as before. I don't know what this strange urging means; I fear it will bring you harm."
"Yes, Moggadeet. We will wait."
And so we waited. Oh yes. Each night it grew more hard. We tried to be as before, to be happy, LeelyMoggadeet. Each night as I caressed your glowing limbs that seemed to offer themselves to me as I swathed and unswathed them in turn, the urge rose in me hotter, more strong. To unveil you wholly! To look again upon your whole body!
Oh yes, my darling, I feel-unbearable-how you remember with me those last days of our simple love.
Colder… colder. Mornings when I went to harvest the fatclimbers there was a whiteness on their fur and the banlings ceased to move. The sun sank ever lower, paler, and the cold mists hung above us, reaching down. Soon I dared not leave the cave. I stayed all day by your silken wall, humming Motherlike, Brum-a-loo, Mooly-mooly, Lilliloo, Love Leely. Strong Moggadeet!
"We'll wait, fireling. We will not yield to the Plan! Aren't we happier than all others, here with our love in our warm cave?"
"Oh, yes, Moggadeet."
"I'm Myself now. I am strong. I'll make my own Plan. I will not look at you until… until the warm, until the Sun comes back."
"Yes, Moggadeet… Moggadeet? My limbs are cramped."
"Oh, my precious, wait-see, I am opening the silk very carefully, I will not look-I won't-"
"Moggadeet, don't you love me?"
"Leelyloo! Oh, my glorious one! I fear, I fear-"
"Look, Moggadeet! See how big I am, how strong!"
"Oh, redling, my hands-my hands-what are they doing to you?"
For with my special hands I was pressing, pressing the hot juices from my throat-sacs and tenderly, tenderly parting your sweet Mother-fur and placing my gift within your secret places. And as I did this our eyes entwined and our limbs made a wreath.
"My darling, do I hurt you?"
"Oh, no, Moggadeet! Oh, no!"
Oh, my adored one, those last days of our love!
Outside the world grew colder yet, and the fatclimbers ceased to eat and the banlings lay still and began to stink. But still we held the warmth deep in our cave and still I fed my beloved on the last of our food. And every night our new ritual of love became more free, richer, though I compelled myself to hide all but a portion of your sweet body. But each dawn it grew hard and harder for me to replace the silken bonds around your limbs.
"Moggadeet! Why do you not bind me! I am afraid!"
"A moment, Lilli, a moment. I must caress you just once more."
"I'm afraid, Moggadeet! Cease now and bind me!"
"But why, my lovekin? Why must I hide you? Is this not some foolish part of the Plan?"
"I don't know, I feel so strange. Moggadeet, I–I'm changing."
"You grow more glorious every moment, my Lilli, my own. Let me look at you! It is wrong to bind you away!"
"No, Moggadeet! No!"
But I would not listen, would I? Oh foolish Moggadeet-who
thought-to-be-your-Mother. Great is the Plan!
I did not listen, I did not bind you up. No! I ripped them away, the strong silk strands. Mad with love I slashed them all at once, rushing from each limb to the next until all your glorious body lay exposed. At last-I saw you whole!
Oh, Lilliloo, greatest of Mothers.
It was not I who was your Mother. You were mine
Shining and bossed you lay, your armor newly grown, your mighty hunting limbs thicker than my head! What I had created. You! A Super mother, a Mother such as none have ever seen!
Stupefied with delight, I gazed.
And your huge hunting limb came out and seized me.
Great is the Plan. I felt only joy as your jaws took me.
As I feel it now.
And so we end, my Lilliloo, my redling, for your babies are swelling through your Mother-fur and your Moggadeet can speak no longer. I am nearly devoured. The cold grows, it grows, and your Mother-eyes are growing, glowing. Soon you will be alone with our children and the warm will come again.
Will you remember, my heartmate? Will you remember and tell them?
Tell them of the cold, Leelyloo. Tell them of our love.
Tell them… the winters grow.