Farewell to Norg

Callen pulled gently on Norg’s yoke to swing the wagon down South Market Street. Foot traffic began to thin and Callen easily found the place his father had described to him; a portico next to a large brick building. He parked the wagon under the overhang and unstrapped Norg from the yoke. Callen pulled a bucket out from under the wagon seat, walked over to the river’s edge and dipped the bucket in the flowing water. Norg and Henry nudged each other’s heads to get to the water.
“There’s plenty of water you two. Henry leave Norg alone and let him drink. You drink from the river you old scoundrel.”
Lilith circled around Callen’s feet rubbing her head against his legs.
“I’ll be back,” she purred.
“Be careful. I don’t like the idea of you out there with those feral cats.” Callen warned.
Lilith just flicked her tail as she bounded down the street.
Callen filled the bucket one more time for Norg and then strapped a feed bag on the ox. He pulled two pieces of jerky from his pack, threw one to Henry and chewed on the other himself as he went about setting up for the night. He pulled out a bed roll and laid it under the wagon. Henry would sleep on top of the wagon to guard their load. Callen removed the feed bag when Norg had finished and then stretched out on the blanket under the wagon. It was a pleasant night; the sound of the river relaxed him. Callen lay thinking about the day.
“Master,” Norg said.
“Yes?” Callen responded.
“Sad.” Norg’s voice rumbled.
“So am I, Norg. I will miss you my dear friend.”
“See you again?” Norg asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“Look for you.”
“Perhaps our paths will cross.”
“Good master.”
“Thank you, Norg, tomorrow we will find you another good master.”
Excerpt from "Tree of Life"