That voice. Her voice. Kalyndi. I tried to focus, but the fever pulled me under again.
"Again, little one."
My father's massive paw adjusted my stance. I couldn't have been more than five seasons old, my hide still soft and my claws barely formed.
"Remember, we are not the monsters they claim us to be." His voice was gentle, so different from the roars he used when dealing with the council. "Our strength is our burden to control, not our right to unleash."
I lunged at the training post, my small claws leaving shallow marks in the wood.
"Good. Now, breathe through your nose. Control your scent detection. Tell me what you smell."
I inhaled deeply. "Pine. Water. A deer passed by earlier."
Father smiled, his single eye crinkling. "And beyond that?"
I concentrated harder. "Humans. Far away but... there's fear in their scent."
His muscled hand, gentle despite its size, rested on my shoulder. "That fear is not your doing, but you must understand it. One day, perhaps, they won't fear us anymore."
"His temperature's still too high." Kalyndi's voice pulled me back to the present.
Something cool pressed against my forehead. I forced my eyes open. The cave ceiling came into focus, then her face. Dark skin glistening with sweat, her braids pulled back, concern etched across her features.
"You're awake." Relief flooded her voice.
I tried to speak, but my throat felt like I'd swallowed sand. She brought water to my lips.
"The poison's working its way out," she said. "But not fast enough."
I glanced down at my side. Some kind of paste, smelling of herbs and earth, packed the wound. Her hands worked methodically, cleaning around the edges.
"Why?" I croaked.
She paused, looking confused. "Why what?"
"Why help me? You could've run."
Her hands resumed their work. "And go where exactly? Besides, that's not who I am."
I studied her face as she concentrated on my wound. The woman they'd forced to be my mate, my prisoner, really, wassaving my life. I recognized the irony, even through the haze of fever.
"The children need that medicine," she added. "And I can't carry it all by myself."
I tried to laugh, but it came out as a groan. "At least you're honest."
"Rest," she said, pressing a cool cloth to my forehead. "The fever needs to break before we can move."
Darkness claimed me again.
The fever dreams came and went. Sometimes I was a child again, learning from my father how to move silently despite my size. Other times I was with the council, arguing against their policies.
"They're not just resources," I heard myself saying. "Humans are… "
"They are necessary," Elder Gorn interrupted. "Their genetic diversity saves us from extinction. This is not about feelings, Redmon."
The council chamber dissolved, and suddenly I was back in the cave, Kalyndi's face hovering above mine.
"You were talking in your sleep," she said, pressing a cup to my lips. "Something about humans and genetic diversity."
