It is. Children love this game.
Is this game used to teach human children how to hunt?He felt her mental pause of surprise as she considered his question.
Her response came slowly.No, we don’t use it like that—at least my childhood friends and I never did. It was simply fun.
The idea of play for its own sake puzzled him. Rather than risk the danger of disapproval, Zul decided to pursue his questioning to learn more about her alien customs.What happens when he catches you?
Her silent chuckle rippled across the mental connection and tickled his mind.If he catches me, then I owe him a kiss, and it’s his turn to hide while I seek. If I deliberately reveal myself to him, then I get to tickle him, and again it’s his turn to hide.
Zul decided he, too, would like to play this hunting game that wasn’t training to hunt. He, too, would enjoy the stakes of capturing his quarry.I would like to join you in this play.
“Mama, where are you? I can’t find you,” Crow cried out and stomped a foot in frustration.
Leaves rustled as Ursula climbed down, showing an unseemly amount of leg. The sight made Zul exhale slowly in a self-reminder that they were in an enclosed courtyard which, although large, was private. Not even a single castratus was present, although he was certain they were monitoring the activity just in case either the Prima or the youngling managed to injure themselves.
“Here I am,” Ursula called out as she landed on the ground.
“Mama!” Crow shouted and ran toward her, small, pointed teeth bared in a happy smile. He launched himself into her open arms. When she wrapped her arms around him and nuzzled his head, he whimpered, “I thought maybe you left me.”
“Oh, my darling, I wouldneverdo such a thing to you,” she assured him then pressed a kiss to his pate. “When you are oldenough, we will take our game outside. Until then, we’ll play in the courtyard where you can keep me safe.”
Listening, Zul approved of her words and the way the youngling puffed his chest at the thought of being considered strong and fierce enough to protect his beloved mama.
“Are you ready to pay the penalty?” she asked, rubbing her nose against her son’s.
“Yes, Mama!”
Zul watched in astonishment as Ursula wriggled her fingers against the child’s sides. As she counted to five with the same use of nonsense syllables between each number, the boy wiggled and laughed. Then she stopped and said, “Done!”
“Your turn!” Crow announced, still giggling.
“Zul would like to play. Will you let him join us, Crow?”
Crow’s eyes brightened at the idea of another playmate. “Does he know how to play?”
Approaching them at a slow walk, Zul paused and suggested, “Why don’t you teach me?”
“Okay,” the child agreed, pleased to be the one teaching rather than the one being taught. Drawing himself up to his full, if diminutive, height, the child took hold of Zul’s hand and led him to the statue. “You have to cover your eyes, so you can’t see where she’s hiding, and count to ten. You have to count slowly. Mama says saying ‘Mississippi’ after each number is proper.”
“And then?” Zul asked.
“And then you have to find her. She says I only get three minutes ’cause the courtyard is small. If you find her, that means she’s it.”
“It?”
“Uh-huh. Then it’s her turn to find me!”
“Shall we begin?”
“Cover your eyes, Master Zul. I’ll cover mine, too, to make it fair.”
Copying the boy’s actions from earlier, Zul leaned against the statue and covered his eyes. He counted aloud as the boy instructed and listened to the light patter of Ursula’s feet and the rustle of leaves.
When he reached ten, Crow took his hand again. He peered, squinting his golden eyes as though to pierce through the foliage and other items behind or under which Ursula could hide.
“Shall I show you a different method to hunt… er…findyour mother?” Zul whispered.
Crow’s eyes widened. “Yes!”
