The shadow stirred again. George crept forward, peering, his old eyes night-dimmed.
Bill huddled in the corner, wracked and wasted. He stared up at George through eyes filmed with tears. He held up his hands. They had already begun to shape themselves into hooves, but George could still see that both his thumbs were gone. His ears were pointed and long.
"Oh, Bill," George said.
His brother let out a braying sob, and George saw he had no tongue.
#
Orville came looking for them the next morning.
"Where are the sons?" George asked him, while stroking the donkey's head in his lap.
Orville smiled a slightly abashed smile. "I'm keeping them safe. I didn't think that Bill was in any shape to take care of them."
George said, "I'll take care of them. Bring them here. Joe, too — he's in the room. I'll take care of them all."
Orville smiled his abashed smile again, then gave George an ironic salute. "Yes, sir," he said. He patted Bill's haunch and smiled to himself.