If I hadn’t hunted, perhaps she’d be more willing to return with me. But I do not want to go hungry, nor do I want to win her stomach through hunger. I’d much rather win her admiration by providing.
I don’t ask her to sit with me, or offer a place by my side. I simply sit as planned in the heart of the tree, my legs sticking out and the heat of the fire warming my skin.
She sits closer to the fire. It doesn’t take long for her chin to drop. She startles awake. It happens twice more, before she lies down, inching closer to me as she does.
If she asked, I’d let her share my shelter.
I close my eyes, hoping the fire keeps away predators and keeps Ruby nearby. Alone, I never sleep well. My ears and kam are too alert to every noise and charge, but it is better than walking through the night.
I wake at dawn to find Ruby by the fire that is little more than embers.
As tempting as it is to close my eyes and snatch a little more rest, there are plenty of creatures that are active in the morning. I get up and walk around the back of the tree to relieve myself, not that there is much.
Today I need to find water.
Or fruit.
I dig up breakfast, unwrapping the cloud-seeker and pulling away the skin. Inside the meat is cooked and tender, falling off the bones. I pluck some off and take my time enjoying it, even licking the juices off my thumb. My stomach gurgles but will be disappointed by the quantity.
Sitting by the fire, I eat my half of the cloud-seeker. If she doesn’t wake up soon, I’ll be tempted to eat her half too. “Ruby.”
She jerks awake and glances around as if she has no idea what’s going on. I see the realization dawn it her eyes with each breath. “I was hoping it was a dream.”
“Breakfast?” I show her the meat.
Her nose wrinkles, but she inches closer instead of asking me to pass it to her. I hold the leaves waiting for her to help herself. She looks up at me then back at the meat. “How am I supposed to eat it?”
“With your fingers.”
She lifts her hand as if she’s about to charge up and shock me. My body prickles with readiness, even though I know it’s not going to happen.
“My hands are dirty.”
“Yep.” And I’m not giving her any water to wash them with. “So are mine.”
She spits on her fingers and wipes them on her shirt. “I’m going to die out here.”
“Possibly.”
“Are you always like this in the morning?”
“Like what?” I kept her safe and made her breakfast. What more does she want?
“Pessimistic.”
I stare at her blankly. The whisperer in my ear is silent.
“You know, always thinking the worst?”
“Ah.” That it did translate. “I am being realistic. We are ill-equipped for this adventure, and this is not my homeland, so finding safe food is much harder. The good news is we haven’t encountered any other Honey tribes, so they won’t be hunting us and driving us away.”
She chews the food in her mouth as she stares at me. “Is that what happened back home?”
“Yes. The only reason my brothers and I survived this long is because we banded together. Worked together. Usually the banished don’t form their own tribe, because they want to take a woman and return home.”
“And they are killed?”
I nod. “No tribe can afford to lose a woman.”
