She didn’t squeak all the time, that I’d noticed, more so when she was happy or nervous. She squeaked around Berkr consistently. That should have served as my first clue that something was off between those two. Berkr was so weird though that I’d taken his antics as sincere dislike, not a pseudo crush, enemies to lovers in the making.
“Did you really bash Vurhg’s nose?” Dace asked. She grinned as she posed the question, relishing the idea whether it was fact or fiction.
“I pinched it and tweaked it,” I laughingly corrected. Recreating the event, miming it out, Dace was in stitches as we walked back towards the village.
“Do you really like it?” Her gaze dipped to the shawl. I was absently rubbing the material between my fingers. She smiled to see that.
“It’s so soft,” I complimented.
Leaning in as if divulging some great secret, she whispered, “It’s tebbimenk.”
“What’s that?” I had no clue what a tebbimenk was. Was it a taboo thing to make things from one?
“Come on. I’ll show you.” Again with the whispering from Dace.
Not understanding but curious enough to go along for the ride, I followed Dace back to her place.
Dace’s hut was small but cozy. The big, heavy looking door to her place was nice.
“This used to be Joanie’s hut,” she was saying as she pulled out a key and unlocked her door.
Almost immediately I heard it, the soft, chittering churrs of critters. Stepping in, the smell of vanilla and honeysuckle hit me in the face.
Dace quickly closed and locked the door behind her.
Much like Kehl’s place, her hut had a fire, a very nice setup for cooking, a bed, a curtained off area I wasn’t nosy enough to peek behind, and off in the corner, in a large, crudely made pen constructed of chunks of wood and woven fronds, was a massive pile of miniature puffs of fluff.
“These are tebbimenk.” Dace squeaked with excitement.
“There are so many of them,” I blurted as I moved in closer.
“Probably shouldn’t touch them,” Dace advised. “Most Lo denaii are allergic to them.”
Meaning I might very well have an issue with them. My gaze darted to my shawl but Dace shook her head. “They aren’t allergic to their fur. Usually just their saliva. They have a pretty sharp, thousands of tiny teeth stabbing you all at once, stinging bite if they do feel the need to protect themselves. I heard Kirch is real allergic. He’d probably try and make me get rid of them if he knew about them. He doesn’t like me at all.” Dipping down, Dace cooed down at a bright pink ball that churred right back at her.
“This is Dolly. She has a bit of sparkle to her, and that red one is Reba, and this one here with the green, that’s Loretta.”
“Do they love country, or do you?” I joked.
“Both,” Dace chirped.
Thinking of Cy and his secret love affair with country music made me smile, even if it immediately made me miss him like crazy. “Cy likes country. He could probably help you think of names if he was here.”
“Cy is your fella?” Dace glanced up from where she was petting a mob of mini Yetified tribbles through the holes small enough to fit her fingers through in their cage.
“He is.” Blowing out a long breath, I muttered, “He was.” Hell if I knew what we were now, seeing as I’d probably never see him ever again. My hands lifted but I let them fall. “Who knowswhat is what anymore.” Clearing my throat, I dipped down with her to admire her mob of friends. “We should probably get going on checking out the huts before it gets too dark to see them.” Glancing her way, I asked, “I don’t suppose you know which ones are going to be less work to get fixed up?”
Dace walked to the window and peeked out the curtain. “It’s too dark now, really, but we can check them out first thing tomorrow if you’re fired up about it. One had a chimney that needs to be redone, the other I’m not so sure but they have it all boarded up. It might take us a minute to pry them loose and get in.” Dace glanced my way shortly. “If you’re okay with that, that is.”
“I am.”
Tugging the curtain back into place, Dace walked over to the table and set her pack down. Grabbing a few chunks of the weird looking chips they used for fires, dung chips I was sure despite the lack of smell to them, she put them on the fire and came back over to where I was standing.
“Any reason I should be worried about, why you need to fix a hut up lickety-split?”
“I made a friend, and we really get each other. She’s not perfect. Neither am I. I’m not interested in finding a replacement, seeing as real friends are hard to come by, and I’m not about to piss off half of the village for thinking I’m taking advantage of Mina’s family’s kindness, so I figured if I fix up a place as soon as possible, I can move in, thank Mina and family for their generosity, and continue on as I am.”
Dace’s face screwed up. Her throat worked as her eyes grew glassy. “You don’t have to do that. I-”
