I do not miss the quick glances to my chest. I resist the urge to check for heart-stars myself. They will come. But I cannot deny that their absence is quickly becoming more than an annoyance.
“There is a gathering this night,” my friend, Xadyn explains. “To welcome Pol-your mateto the tribe. Yoryx said you needed your rest and we were to keep watch over you while you heal.”
My tail flicks violently behind me, betraying the tight smile I force upon my face. “Take me to this gathering.”
Despite my demand for my tribesmales to take me to where a small feast is being held in my mate’s honor, I find I end up leading myself there instead, the males still trail along behind me. Once I reach the small clearing in the center of the village, I feel them all halt at my back, just as I have halted, here in the shadows of the storing huts.
There she is.
My Polly.
She is sitting in the gathering area where two fires blaze, casting a dancing, golden light over her beautiful soft, round face. It seems as though many males have brought her offerings of nourishment as there are plenty of platters displayed where she sits with the other females and my High Spear. I feel compelled to remain in these shadows to just watch her. More food is laid before her and although she thanks them with a smile, she does not eat. Has she eaten since my resting?
“You are a lucky male, Aloryk,” Xadyn comments from behind me. “I like the soft-looking ones. I hope the Goddesses will bless us with more.”
“The Goddesses will not grant you a mate, soft-looking or not,” someone behind me answers, “when was the last time you made an offering at Temple?”
Murmured bickering breaks out amongst the males but I pay it no mind. I am too lost at the sight of my female, caught up in viewing her without her knowledge. She seems comfortable with the other females and I hope she will be happy here. It will be my life’s purpose to ensure that she is.
I am indeed very lucky to be given this purpose, to be blessed with this female.
My feet mindlessly take two steps before my eye catches on the others around the feast. Not the other females, but some of my fellow brothers and how they flare and flap their wings while grinning at my Polly.
They are…displayingfor her.
It is a practice I remember learning about from some of the etchings on the Mother cave walls. Those Trixikka whose heart-stars did not choose their mate for them would need to show off their physique, their combat skills, their hunting skills, their means to provide for a female in order to attract one.
My own wings attempt to shift - attempt to flair - as if I were about to compete with these males for my Polly’s attention. Butall I feel is the tight wrap of the woven bandage, the stiffness of the splint, and the ache that comes with the movement for me right now.
I throw one glance over my shoulder as if I could assess myself how pitiful my wings look now, before setting my jaw and stepping into the clearing, my eyes now locked on the parading males as I stalk forward. Before my injuries, my wingspan could have rivaled all of these displays. I had as much pride in my feathers as any other male. Now, they are broken and bound, but I will not allow anyone to rival me for my mate.
The males notice me, and a few tuck their wings back instantly as if they were younglings being scolded for flying too high, too soon.
Good.
I glare at the others until they notice my approach and follow suit. Every male should know that Polly is mine, heart-stars or not.
“Aloryk, you wake!” my High Spear greets with a wide smile. He is seated at the head of the gathering, with my High Spearess sat in his lap. My eyes flit briefly over to Polly, wondering if she would like to be seated similarly with me, before quickly returning to Rynn.
“Yes, I am well rested now,” I lie as I bow my head in deference to our leader. If my exhaustion was a spear, I have merely dulled the tip.
I am treated to a collective of greetings and well-wishes from the other females, but it is all background noise, like the sounds of the forest. My focus is on Polly and the soft smile she gives me as I draw near. I have not forgotten the way she took my hand and claimed me as her mate earlier.
I have also not forgotten the taste of her precious cunt.
I seat myself beside her and ignore the way my heart thunders in my chest when Polly leans into me. Her shoulderbrushes with my arm as she gifts me with a soft, “hello.” And somehow, this little female can make one small word sound like more than a greeting. It felt warm, it felt familiar, and it felt intimate, despite the fact that we are now surrounded by my tribe.
“Hello,” I turn to her, trying with everything I have to reflect that warmth back to her. We stare at one another and I realize it is just the loveliest thing to be able to do. Yes, I am a lucky male indeed.
“Jesus, you guys, get a hut!” Chaz-Titi laughs on the other side of my female.
Polly’s cheeks stain a pretty pink, but I do not mind the comment - I like to see that pink again. It is the same one she turns when she-
“You should eat,” Polly says, clearing her throat and interrupting my thoughts of her pleasure on my tongue.
She pushes an untouched offering of fruits and frizikki meat. “Have you eaten?” I ask, pushing it back.
“Some.”
