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Once I reach the cliffs that cradle the beach, I scan the stretch of sand, looking for familiar faces. The kits are playing another game on the shore, racing around each other, and Pak's sharp scream of excitement is so piercing it carries up the cliffs to where I stand. I grin down at the group, amused. Even from a distance, I can pick out my son. He chases after the older boy, Rukhar, and he plays fiercely with them. I did not realize how much he needed others his age until we arrived here.
Steff is very wise. She knew we needed them. It is yet another thing that I cherish about my mate. She knows what she wants and will patiently work to make it happen. After all, she courted me for many turns of the moon, even when I was too foolish to grasp what she was offering. To think…I could have been deep inside my mate all this time.
Truly, I am the biggest of fools.
I scan the sands. Other than yesterday's straggler, the sands are clear once more. The reddish residue remains, as does the warmth, but the last of the great shell-beasts has returned to the waters, and now we just wait for the eggs to hatch. Once they are gone, we will be free to set up huts once more. I consider the best place to set up a home for my mate and my kit. It will need to be private, because Steff is not very quiet when my mouth is on her. It will need to be large enough for Pak to have his own bed, but not so far away from the group that we will be isolated.
I am learning that isolation is not always a good thing. Steff has shown me that. Amongst a tribe, we have food and shelter. We have others to help with problems, and someone to look after Pak if I need to share a moment with my mate.
I rub my chin, thinking. I will need to ask someone what is a proper dwelling. I have never had one before. In the past, if I needed shelter, I would find a cave or a tree, or create a lean-to out of leaves to wait out the worst of storms. It will be wisest to ask one of the others about the home they build for their mate, and copy their actions. Of all the males, I get along with Ashtar the best. The golden-skinned male takes nothing very seriously, and he is not from any of the old clans, so he does not look upon me as less. N'dek of Strong Arm is friendly enough, I suppose, but he is often busy with his mate's strange plans. O'jek remains as remote as usual, which suits me fine. Shadow Cat holds onto the old ways the fiercest.
My hut will need to be far away from Shadow Cat, then. I ponder this. Perhaps it would be wisest to wait and see where the others set up their huts, and then choose a location. As much as I wish for privacy with Steff, I am not sure I want my hut to be in the center of another clan's territory. Steff says that the old clans are no more, but I think that is a bit optimistic. She—
"Are you going to stand there all day?" The sour voice comes from behind me.
I turn, the breeze snapping my cloak around my shoulders. O'jek leans on his spear behind me, his boots planted in the snow, his lip curled as he studies me.
"Is this what you do all day?" he asks. "While the rest of us hunt, you stand around and daydream? Do those daydreams fill your son's belly?" He gives me a look of disgust. "Or do you expect us to feed you while you sit around?"
"Why not?" I taunt. "The female you sniff after does nothing all day long, but you do not seem to have a problem with feeding her." I am pleased by the angry look that darkens his face. Did I strike a nerve? Good. I want him to walk away angry. Everyone else has been pleasant, but O'jek…
O'jek is Shadow Cat. I should know better than to expect more.
"D'see is not my female," he spits out at me. "And I do not sniff after her. Even if I did, that is better than what you have done. You pushed a female into mating with you."
Now he insults my mate. "I did no such thing. My Steff chose me."
"Chose you?" he scoffs. "Unlikely. You forced the female to become yours. That is the only way an Outcast can find a female, so I should not be surprised that you bullied her into becoming your mate."
Bullied? My Steff? My smiling, wise, beautiful Steff? "You are wrong about this. All of this. She chose me." When he snorts with derision, I continue. "She brought me courting gifts. Daily. She tried to let me know that she wanted me to be her mate, only I was too stubborn to listen. But I did not force her to become mine." The very thought is disgusting.
