Ramsey circles me, quick as a cat, bringing his face inches from Harold.
I bring my hand up to shield my small friend.
“I am going to make you eat every single rodent you bring into my home!” he growls.
“You can’t hurt Harold!” I snarl, rage making me brave. “He’s a part of my tribe!”
Ramsey takes a terrifying step forward. “Is he, now?”
“Yes—and he pulls his weight!”
“Tell me, weak Asha, how does tiny Harold the vaeyark pull his weight?”
“He provides me with fur to use as a brush to paint with.”
Ramsey’s teeth grind, and I pull Harold from my shoulder, hiding him behind my back.
“Why don’t you just leave for the day, and when you get back, the dyes will be gone and you’ll never have to see Harold again.”
His eyes widen. “Are you suggesting I leave my own house? The one I built with my own two hands?”
Don’t show him you’re weak…
“If you’re going to get all emotional, then yes. Go, take a walk, breathe a little.”
“How dare?—”
Knowing that if I continue interacting with him, I’ll start cowering in fear, I kneel on the floor and begin plucking the orange flower petals to grind for the dye.
“Are you ignoring me?”
I continue my work, refusing to look at the furious blue man.
“I can hear your heart racing, Little Vaeyark. I know you are afraid.”
“Are you speaking to me or Harold?” I ask.
“Unbelievable,” he growls through clenched teeth. “Now, not only do I have to smell you, but now there is the scent of the dyes.”
My eyes snap to his. “I don’t smell.”
“Yes, you do.”
Of all the insults he’s ever slung at me, that I’m weak and feeble and a little vaeyark, this is perhaps the most offensive.
“Not only did I take a bath this morning, but I even used your smelly man soap to clean myself with—so I smell exactly like you!”
“Except that you don’t.”
I lift my arm again, taking in the scent of the herbs the men use, which create a stomach-twisting scent that Elena is urging the men to rectify.
“You’re right—I do smell. I smell terrible because you guys would rather smell like rotting wood than flowers.”
“Tempest, help us,” he mumbles under his breath.
I finish making the orange dye, trying to avoid Ramsey as much as I can, but the hut is small, and he refuses to leave.
In fact, he stands in the middle of the floor, forcing me to move around him.
