Was he actually apologizing to me? I stared at him. Nobody had ever apologized to me. A strange feeling blossomed in my chest.
"So, I'm not sure if you can understand me, but just in case you can, my name is Ashe," he said.
Ashe. An unusual sensation tickled my ribs, like a worm was stuck inside them.
I nodded again to show I understood. That seemed to be an effective way of communicating so far.
Ashe smiled slightly, which made the worm in my chest wiggle around. It felt strange. I cleared my throat to make it stop.
First I needed to clear the blood soaked into his fur. It would make my job less complicated if he was in human form, since skin was easier to clean. But I could tell getting him to shift was going to be an issue. How could I ask him to shift without being able to speak?
I pointed at his wounds and grunted.
Ashe blinked. He didn't understand.
I pointed again, more intensely this time.
"Yeah, I know I'm bleeding," he said. "Is there something you want me to do?"
I nodded. Using these basic gestures was annoying, but I doubted Ashe understood signing. I'd already tried that with the coyote shifters and I barely got halfway into a sentence before they panicked and fled. Ashe probably wasn't any different.
Then again, something about Ashedidfeel different. He was already sitting down and injured. Maybe his first instinct wouldn't be to run away from me.
Ashe winced and let out a hiss of pain. "Sorry, it sucks sitting like this. I don't know exactly what's going on, but I need you to know that I'm a shifter. I'm, uh, going to shift now. Because I need to sit on my human ass and not my deer ass."
Okay, I had to admit, Ashe was amusing. I nodded again for him to go ahead and shift.
Ashe gazed at me for a long moment, presumably trying to gauge my reaction, then closed his eyes and let the shift take over him. It had been ages since I'd seen anyone shift. The only other times I'd seen it happen were when my parents did it, and that was a very long time ago. I'd forgotten how magical it was. Soon the sleek, brown deer fur disappeared, smoothing over into freckled pale skin. Ashes antlers receded, becoming a fluffy mop of chestnut coloured hair with curious white streaks that reminded me of fawn spots.
When it was all said and done, a gorgeous young man lay sitting on the floor naked beneath me.
I swallowed, trying to get rid of the sudden thickness in my throat.
"That's better." Ashe sighed as he rolled his shoulder. "Sort of."
I was distracted from his beauty by the angry red gashes in his sides. The wounds had started to clot, but shifting had torn them open again, causing blood to trickle down his flesh.
Without wasting a moment, I approached him and lowered my head so that my nose was an inch from his skin.
"Er, what are you doing?" Ashe asked, surprised.
There was no easy way for me to explain, so I went ahead and began to clean him. I swiped the flat of my tongue up along the injuries.
Ashe yelped and jerked back. "Hey, that tickles!"
I wished he would stay put and stop moving. I leaned in to lick him again. Ashe instinctively put his hands out and grasped the thick fur around my neck.
"W-what are you doing?" he demanded, his voice rising an octave.
Trying to clean you, dummy, I thought.
To get through to him, I glanced back and forth between his eyes and his wounds. Ashe's shoulders lowered and he let out a thin breath.
"Oh," he said. "I guess I'm still bleeding, huh? You must be trying to clean me?"
Finally he was getting the point. I nodded.
Ashe's cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. His voice hitched as he said, "Sure. You can, um, continue."
