Page 38 of Beasts of Mine

You keep using that name even though you know I dislike it, the leopard complained, his golden-brown eyes following each step I took across the stones until I reached the opposite bank.

“You still refuse to give me another one,” I reminded the leopard, setting my backpack beside one of the broad roots while the damp fabric brushed against my ankle.

That doesn't make Cat acceptable, the leopard replied, lowering his head onto his paws while keeping his eyes fixed on me with familiar disapproval.

“I think you're getting used to it,” I told the leopard, crouching beside my pack as I searched for the container I'd brought from the station and deliberately ignored the look he was giving me.

I'm not, the leopard insisted, although his attention shifted immediately toward my hands when the container appeared, undermining some of his dignity.

“Sure you're not,” I told the leopard, smiling as I opened the lid and set the food within reach before settling onto one of the smoother roots nearby.

He leaned forward and sniffed the contents.

Chicken, the leopard observed, lifting his head a little higher while his nose moved again over the container.

“Very impressive. You'll be identifying food professionally before long,” I told the leopard, pulling my own lunch from the bag as amusement crept into my voice. The look he gave me was so thoroughly unimpressed that I laughed, the sound blending with the water moving around the stones beside us.

You're strange today, the leopard observed, taking the first piece of chicken while keeping his attention on me instead of immediately returning to the food.

“That's because the entire rainforest has decided my personal life belongs to everyone,” I told the leopard, unwrapping my sandwich as I settled more comfortably against the roots and stretched my legs out in front of me.

His chewing paused for barely a second before continuing, but I'd spent enough time with him now that I noticed the hesitation.

“You know what I'm talking about,” I accused the leopard, studying the subtle shift in his expression while the sandwich remained forgotten in my hand.

I don't, the leopard replied, lowering his head toward another piece of chicken with a little too much care, as though concentrating hard enough on his lunch might make me drop the subject.

“That answer came awfully fast,” I told the leopard, raising one eyebrow as I leaned more firmly against the root behind me.

You say strange things fairly often. I've learned to respond quickly, the leopard countered, lifting his eyes toward me while the faintest hint of amusement slipped into his otherwise calm tone.

“You've gotten much ruder since your leg healed,” I told the leopard, narrowing my eyes even though the smile pulling at my mouth ruined any real complaint.

Perhaps I've simply stopped being polite, the leopard suggested, his whiskers shifting as he settled one large paw more comfortably over the other.

“Oh, excellent. That's much better,” I told the leopard, taking a bite of my sandwich while the low rumbling sound I'd learned meant amusement vibrated quietly from his chest.

After swallowing, I brushed a crumb from my shorts and looked toward him again.

“A toucan told me I smell like you, several monkeys have decided you'd make an excellent mate for me, birds keep telling me I should sleep beside you, and an older capuchin informed me that you wait here for me every afternoon,” I told the leopard, counting the increasingly bizarre conversations on my fingers as his attention became progressively more focused.

By the time I finished, his entire body had gone still. I'd learned enough about him to recognize the reaction. When something surprised or bothered him, he didn't fidget or glance nervously around the way a person might.

He became almost unnaturally motionless.

“Well?” I asked the leopard, lowering my sandwich to my lap while I waited for something more useful than the expression he was currently giving me.

What do you want me to say? the leopard asked, keeping his voice calm even as one ear angled toward the surrounding forest.

“Any explanation at all would be a refreshing change,” I told the leopard, watching him closely while my fingers absently folded the edge of my sandwich wrapper.

Animals gossip, the leopard replied, turning his attention back toward his food with a composure I was beginning to find deeply suspicious.

“I've noticed. Unfortunately, you seem to be their favorite subject whenever I'm around,” I told the leopard, shifting the wrapper against my knee while he selected another piece of chicken.

Maybe you're their favorite subject, the leopard corrected, lifting his gaze toward me again while the tip of his tail moved once through the leaves.

I paused, imagining that possibility for all of two seconds.