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“Not hungry. Don’t worry about it.” She waves a hand at me, dismissing my questions. “Have you seen my boots?”
I am confused, as confused about that as I am of her abrupt nature this morning. She is being cold to me, as if she has no time to talk with her mate. Did I not give her enough foreplay? Was I not gentle enough to satisfy her or does she still long for R’jaal? The thought fills me with jealousy.
What is so special about him that she cannot see me? Even with resonance?
“You should eat something,” I offer. Maybe she will let me feed her. “I can heat up the food from last night.”
F’lor bends down to lace one boot up her calf. “Don’t bother.” When she is done, she straightens and tosses a cloak over her shoulders. “I’ll see you later.”
And then she is gone, and I am left with an aching cock, a throbbing khui, and wounded pride.
Well, I am not going to sit in her furs and mope. If she is not going to stay in the hut and resonate with me, I will follow her on her errands. If R’jaal so much as sniffs near her, I will chase him away. He does not get to go near my mate. He lost his chance with her, and I intend to remind him of that.
Decided, I get to my feet and hunt for my clothing. She mentioned ancestor spirits. I will have to ask the others if they feel ancestor spirits around them. Back on the island, we always felt we were surrounded by our ancestors who had passed, but they did not speak to us and we did not offer to them. Perhaps humans think differently. Have they done this before and I simply never noticed? Have I been too lost in thought about one particular female to notice what the rest of them were doing?
I will be better about noticing in the future.
Then again, it does not matter now. I only intend to notice one female—mine.
Once I have on a loincloth and some boots, I shove my favorite knife into my belt and duck out of the hut, scanning for F’lor. I do not see her immediately close by, so I close my eyes and concentrate on the scents in the wind. There. Following her scent, I head toward the shore and then pause.
She did not speak lies. She is fishing by herself. She stands near one of the rocky tide pools, a spear in hand as she studies the contents. Good. She is being safe. Sometimes the tide pools catch large shells with tasty creatures inside, or occasionally a fish. I am glad she is not taking a raft as D’see does, or heading out with nets. I would have to stop her.
I pause, because I do not think she would like it if I tried to stop her. She would be furious, and I would much rather have F’lor smiling at me. Frowning to myself, I rub my chest and consider my options. If I go up to her, will she be annoyed that I am at her side again? Will I be seen asneedy?
Perhaps I should get her some food instead. She did not eat a morning meal and she needs food to keep up her strength, so we can finish with our resonance.
That, and it would please me to feed her.
I head toward the main fire, where the females that stay at camp take turns cooking meals instead of hunting. Something is cooking, at least. I move toward it and am greeted by the others near the fire, several females nursing cups of shrimp tea and holding their kits.
“Good morning,” says M’rsl, T’chai’s quiet mate. She is the one making food today. She stirs the pouch and picks up a bowl. “Do you want some?”
I lean over the pouch, nostrils flaring. It is…a seed gruel. I make a face at the thought of eating it.
M’rsl just chuckles. “I’m going to take that as a no. Feed yourself, then.”
I point at the paste. “Does F’lor like eating this?”
She arches a brow at me. “Why don’t you ask her?”
“Why do you not justtellme?” Why must every female be difficult?
M’rsl rolls her eyes and shakes off her spoon, setting the bowl back down. “You know what? Feed yourself. Or don’t. I don’t really care.” She moves to sit by the fire on one of the logs there and murmurs something to C’lie, M’tok’s mate. Both of them eye me with disdain.
Bah, it does not matter if they like me or not. I pick up the spoon and sniff the gruel again, trying to decide if it is something I have seen her eat in the past. I glance around the fire at the other females…and pause.
A short distance away, O’jek stands next to D’see. They talk to R’hosh and his mate, who are all smiles. O’jek has his back to me, and his long braid is a neat and tidy line down his back. His hand is on D’see’s shoulder, and I notice her yellow mane is tied in the same way his is. As I stare at them, she laughs at something, looks up at O’jek with a radiant smile, and caresses his lower back, dangerously near his tail.
They look happy. Content. Their resonance must have been over quickly.
I scowl at the thought, my own khui yet singing endlessly in my chest. F’lor needs to eat more, I decide. I bet O’jek made D’see eat all the time. With that decided, I grab one of the bowls and slop a large spoonful of the mess into the dish.
“You’re welcome,” M’rsl calls, her voice light with amusement. “Make sure you grab a spoon unless you plan on eating that with your fingers.”
C’lie giggles, and I contemplate heading back to my hut. No, not my hut. F’lor’s hut, since I have brought my gear there. My mood is growing darker by the moment and the giggles of other females are not helping. Nor is the sight of O’jek, gazing down at D’see with such intense devotion. I am happy for him. I truly am. I am just annoyed for myself at my current situation, and I yet resonate as fiercely as I did when I started.
Turning away from the fire, I clutch the bowl to my chest when someone calls out. “There! The dragon!”
