I turn back toward the cave.
Mara stands in the entrance.
My body reacts before thought—stepping between her and the tree line, staff raised. Protective instinct so sharp it leaves no room for question.
“I told you to stay in the cave.” The words come out rougher than intended.
“Is everything okay out there?” she asks, ignoring my disapproval.
“It’s gone,” I say, but I do not lower the staff.
“Was that—?” Her voice catches. “Was that a mountain lion?”
“Yes.”
“Are we… are we safe?”
I study her. She has wrapped my cloak tight around her shoulders, but her hands shake where they grip the fabric. Notfrom cold. From the bone-deep understanding of being prey in a predator’s territory.
“We are safe,” I tell her. “He was curious, not hunting.”
“How do you know?”
“His approach. The way he moved.” I lower the staff finally, leaning it against stone. “A hunting cat is silent. That one wanted us to know he was there.”
She processes this, then nods slowly. “Okay. That’s… that’s good, I guess.”
I gesture toward the cave. “You should be resting.” I’m surprised to see her standing unassisted. But then, everything about this situation has been unexpected.
“Yeah, well.” She manages something that might be a smile. “Turns out I’m not great at lying still while mountain lions wander around outside.”
Fair.
I follow her back inside. The fire has burned lower. I add two logs, watching flames climb.
She settles onto the sleeping pile but does not lie down. Instead, she pulls her knees up, arms wrapped around them. The movement would have been excruciating for her just hours ago.
Impossible healing for an impossible injury.
I do not say this aloud.
“So.” She breaks the silence first. “You can tell the difference between a curious mountain lion and a hunting one. That’s… specific knowledge.”
“Yes.” I tilt my head. “Much like a tiger.”
“Tiger?” She frowns.
“You spoke of a tiger. In your dreams,” I tell her.
She gnaws on her bottom lip. It’s plump and pink. “Tiger…” Something clicks into place. “Tiger! I dreamed I’d been bitten in half by a tiger shark.” Her smile is rueful. “I guess theimagination fills in the gaps when the unthinkable happens, right?”
“Yes,” I say. Silence lingers once more.
“Did you grow up out here?” she asks suddenly. “In the mountains?”
I search for an answer. Find nothing. “I don’t know.”
She watches me for a moment. “But you know how to track. How to read animal behavior. How to survive in conditions that would kill most people.” A pause. “That has to come from somewhere, K.”
