A handsome stranger.
I am so excited at this that I climb over the hill and begin to approach. I want to say hello, to greet him, to ask him why his horns are shiny and where his mane went.To ask him why he is pulling the guts out of the cave and spreading them on the snow. Before I can take more than a step, the archway on the side of the cave opens again, and this time a female steps out. I frown to myself and duck back behind the rocks. Is this his mate?
The male stops pulling the guts out and pauses to talk to the female. I study them and determine this must be his mother, not his mate. She is much older, and his manner reminds me of my brothers with my mother—affectionate but impatient. I am curiously relieved, and watch as they continue to talk. My gaze always strays back to the male. From this distance I cannot make out his features, but I like the way he moves, strong and sure. My heart flutters in my chest when he flicks his tail and turns his back on the female, returning to his project. He pulls a few more parts out, and the female returns to the ship, shivering like the humans do, even on a pleasant day. I wait for her to leave, and then when I know the male is alone, I emerge from my hiding spot.
I am excited to talk to him. I have so many questions to ask. Did he come here with humans? Is he bringing mates to the others? Is he…looking for a mate? The thought makes my entire body flush with excitement. I pick my steps carefully in the snow, moving silently as any good hunter does.
As I venture closer, I get a better look at his face. He is turned to the side, but I can see that he has proud features and a noble nose. He is handsome, too, just like I knew he would be, and the line of his jaw is proud and unyielding. His eyes are shielded by heavy brows, and plated like my own. I cannot get over how different—but similar—he is to themales in my tribe. He is so like us, and yet…so much handsomer. I could stare at this appealing face for days and never grow bored. The differences are fascinating—like his tail. He has a tail, but for some reason it is blunted, half the length of my own. Has it always been like that, or did he lose it in an accident? His horns with the strange shiny tips fascinate me, as does the fact that his mane is gone. I can see dark stubble on his scalp, and it highlights the strong lines of his skull. Fascinating. He turns to the side, studying one of the parts he has pulled from the underbelly of the cave, and I realize that the dark shadows I thought were from the ship are something else entirely. He has…designs on his face. Celebration designs, like the ones I paint on the others when we have a feast. One entire side of his face is marked with them.
I gasp at the sight, because it is beautiful and surprising all at once. Is he celebrating something today?
He straightens, turning toward me. His eyes go wide at the sight of me, and he looks me up and down, as if unable to believe that I am here.
“Greetings to you,” I call out.
“Kzzv si metalsivak?”
His eyes are dark, I realize. There is no glow of a khui inside them. It is like when the humans first arrived and their eyes were dead. Creepy. I hold back a shiver.
He stares at me expectantly. I do not know his words, and the way he watches me fills me with a new feeling—worry. Is…is he not here to visit, then? I feel shy under the weight of his gaze, which is strange. I am not normally flustered, but this is also the first time I have ever talked to a male not in my tribe. I pick up one of the pieces of the cave and hold it out to him. “Do you need this?”
He squints, and it is clear he does not understand my words. His gaze moves over my body again, and I feel a tingleof excitement and pleasure as he studies me. He is looking at me like the other males regard their mates. It makes my nipples tighten with excitement, and I feel a warm pulsing between my thighs. He looks at me the way I want to be looked at by a male, I realize. Not like Sessah with his silly devotion, or Taushen with his impatient courting. He devours me with his eyes and I…I like it.
The male says something again, and I frown, because I want to understand his words. I offer him the cave part I hold in my hand, curious if that is what he wants. As I get nearer to him, I start to tremble in my belly. It’s strange, because I do not feel fear. If anything, I am excited and aroused by the sight of this male. I take another step closer to him…and then it hits me.
Resonance.
The tremble in my belly is not trembling, after all.
It is my khui, singing with such force that it is making my entire body shake. The song rises in my throat, and I stare at this male in wonder. This stranger, this handsome hunter with paint on his face and strange shiny horns is to be my mate. We will make kits together and he will hold me in his arms and we will be a family.
I am so happy.
“My mate,” I say with joy, and extend my hands to him. He does not move forward, but he takes the cave part from my hand, and our fingers brush. My pulse thrums with delight at that small touch, and I feel a growing slickness between my thighs. I want him. I am ready to mate, right here and right now.
He gazes at my hand in wonder, where our fingers touch. Surely he feels the same thing I do. “My mate,” I say again, and put my hands on his face. He stares at me with wide eyes. He is shocked, I imagine, but I will be a good mate tohim. I lean forward and press my mouth to his in the human mouth-matings that the others make look so very pleasurable. His lips are cooler under mine. His skin, too. Is he cold? He will warm up when he takes his khui.
The male jerks backward, away from my touch.
“It is all right,” I tell him, excited. “It is a human gesture, nothing more.”
He says something again, and his gloved hand goes to his mouth. He touches his lips, then glances over at the cave, where the entrance opened. He speaks, spitting out a string of fluid-sounding words.
“I do not understand your language,” I say, fretting. We no longer have the Elders’ Cave to teach languages. It is on its side. “Perhaps you have something in your cave that can teach you to speak with me?” Now that I am standing so close to him, I want to pull off the strange leather tunic he wears that covers him from boot to neck. He has a bit of colorful leather tucked around his throat, and I can see it move as he swallows hard, then slurs another round of gibberish at me.
He rubs his arms and repeats one word, gazing at me. “Fasang?” Oh. My mate is trying to communicate. I smile at him and listen patiently, but I am more fascinated by the dancing lines that cover one side of his face. They have not moved, and they did not feel wet when I touched them. It is almost as if they are permanently on the skin. Would that not be fascinating? I wonder how he did it, and how he got his horns so shiny and silver. He rubs his arms again and repeats the word. “Fasang?”
Is he asking if I am cold? I laugh, because the idea is so funny. “Why would I be cold? Today is a perfect day.”
His expression changes. The frustration fades from his face, and a hint of a smile tugs at the corners of his hard mouth. “Fasang la?” He rubs his arms again and then touchesmy arm with a small shake of his head.
I decide that I love his smile. It seems so hesitant, and I want to make him smile more. Actually, I want to press my mouth to his again and try more mouth-mating. “Do you want to mate here, or do you want to go back to my cave?” I gesture at the distant hills. There is a hunter cave nearby, full of furs and supplies. “We will be alone there.”
“Fasang la?”
Are we still on that? I want to see him smile again. I want his touch. So I take his hand in mine, and note the strange glove he wears. It feels like thin, slippery leather. I tug at it to remove the glove.
He jerks his hand away.
