Page 78 of Moon Chosen

“Well, sketch in your mind a picture of Rigel going over to the door and lying down,” Sora said after thinking for a few moments.

“That’s easy.” Mari kept stirring the stew, and without looking at Rigel or saying a word, she imagined drawing a picture of Rigel lying in front of the door. Within a heartbeat or two, the Shepherd had left her side, padded to the door, and lay down.

“That’s amazing. Do you think all of the Companions’ canines can do that?”

“I don’t know aboutall, but my father’s Shepherd could. Mama told me about it.”

“This is him, isn’t it?” Sora held up the sketch of Galen, Orion, Leda, and Mari as an infant.

Mari glanced at it, and then quickly averted her gaze. It hurt to look at the sketches of her mama—hurt a lot. “Yes. That’s Galen and his Shepherd, Orion, Mama, and me.”

“The Shepherd is unfinished,” Sora said.

“That’s because until Rigel chose me, I hadn’t seen a canine close up enough to draw one.”

Sora sat heavily on the pallet that used to be Mari’s, but was now—temporarily—hers. “It really is incredible.”

“What is?”

“You—or rather your parentage. And him.” She jerked her chin at Rigel, who was still lying by the door, watching Mari through sleepy eyes. “You know, his fur is very thick and surprisingly pretty colors. It would make a beautiful cloak.”

Mari spun around, holding the ladle like a sword. “Don’t you dare talk about skinning him!”

Sora laughed until Rigel’s warning growl hushed her. She cleared her throat and then, eyes still sparkling but voice deceptively contrite, said, “I wasn’t serious. It was a compliment.”

Mari and Rigel snorted at the same time.

“It’s very odd how in sync the two of you are,” Sora said.

Mari ladled up a healthy portion of stew for Rigel, adding raw rabbit to his large wooden dish. She set it aside to let it cool while she dished up portions for Sora and herself. Then she gave the Shepherd his dinner and joined Sora, pulling up a chair to sit beside the pallet.

Sora tried the stew, nodded, and made a small, agreeable sound, and then through her second mouthful said, “No fresh bread?”

“If you want fresh bread feel free to bake some yourself,” Mari said.

“I’ll do that. My bread is light as clouds on the inside.”

Mari snorted. “Like you can really bake.”

“I can really bake. And well, too. Just because I don’t like to root around in the dirt to gather things, and I loathe hunting, doesn’t mean I don’t understand how to turn what others hunt and gather for me into deliciousness.” She took another spoonful of stew, tasting it thoughtfully. “This isn’t bad, but you added too much garlic and too little salt.”

“Are you complaining about my stew?”

“Absolutely not. I’m only making a truthful observation. Tomorrow I’ll cook. You’ll see. Do you have the makings for bread?”

“Yeah. It’s all in the storage room in the rear of the burrow.” Mari tried not to sound too interested, even though just thinking about bread as light as clouds was making her salivate. “Mama did the baking and I made the stews.”

“I can do both and more. If you can hunt and gather it, I can cook it.”

Mari bit back a quick retort. Why should she care if Sora knew how to find food or not? Itwouldmake her life easier if Sora did the cooking. “You have a deal,” she said.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Thank you!” Sora said around another mouthful of stew. “You won’t be sorry.”

Mari laughed humorlessly. “I’ve been sorry since you found me under that tree.”