She doesn't quite get the guttural accent in my name correct and it's endearing. Her voice is sincere, hinting at a deep well of empathy.
I hadn't realized how much I needed to talk about it, but her words feel like a good soak in the sun.
"Thank you. I miss them, but I think it's worse for my friends who fear for their mates."
My nose twitches as I berate myself for being so obvious. Not to mention using such a heavy topic for the sake of my incessant curiosity.
I do believe that, but now that I've said it to find out if she is mated it feels wrong.
"I can see that. My parents would be devastated to find out I was missing if they were still alive."
I feel a pang of shared grief. "I share your grief. My sire was killed when I was a young kit. I rarely go long without thinking of him."
"Me too. It's crazy how something as simple as aVietnameserestaurant will remind me of my dam and how she kept her culture alive through food. Or my sire and his love of sweets. What about your dam? Uh,mother?"
"Luckily my dam is safe. Or was, at least. She's likely contacted every member of Session tens of times by now about me. Our government, I mean."
She makes a low sound that isn't quite a chuff, but seems to have the same function. "I have a friend like that. Had? I'm not sure I'll ever see her again."
She sounds so lost and I wish I could offer better comfort. "I hope so, Ree."
I assume she has the same ache in her chest I do and it explains the lull in our conversation after that.
I think we have left a suitably confounding trail so I look for trees so I can comfort her. I look forward to talking with her about how we can manage her Silver's rescue.
I search for a perfect option, with a thick canopy, but a trunk structure that will provide a roomy nest for us.
But not too roomy.
I want Ree cuddled up against me as we talk through our next steps. I might be odd, but I enjoy cuddles as much as any of my species. I think I see a suitable candidate after we walk in silence for a short while.
Yes, this tree will do. "Go ahead and slide off, Ree."
She obliges, and the feel of her gliding along my fur is momentarily distracting.
She comes to stand in front of me while I'm still caught up in the pleasurable shivers that run down my spin and make my tail dance. I shake my mane to I gather myself, then assess her hands.
No claws, but I don't want to insult her so I don't make any assumptions.
I fall back on the formal politeness my grand sire taught me just in case. "Would you like to climb by yourself or would you prefer assistance?"
She responds by tipping her head back and letting out a melodious trill. Manticorid bodies could never make such a pure, high sound.
I'm transfixed.
When she speaks it's back to a lower register. "Oh, Thivoll, I couldn't make it a single step up this tree."
I'm trying to figure out why she added the extra sound to the front of my name when she starts speaking again.
"There's nothing to grab on to."
I look back at the tree, realizing what she means. When I look back at her, she is baring her teeth at me. I recoil on instinct.
"No need for violence! I'm sorry to offend," I say with as much regret as I can muster.
I hope she isn't too angry.
Her forehead wrinkles. "What? Oh! Uh, no. I thought it was funny. I was laughing at my own terrible climbing skills."
