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Or so the fables went.
If Zai left now, the remaining group might be better off for lack of his presence.
After all, he had been the Master Hunter of the Blood Moon Queen. No doubt the animal spirits who belonged to this enclave would know others who had perished by his sword or arrow. Perhaps even loved ones and close friends.
Zai was definitely not expecting any kind ofwelcomefor himself. At this point, he was a hindrance. And the closer to the enclave they got, the more danger Zai was in.
But…
He wasn’t ready to leave.
Not yet.
He refused to ponder why that might be. Refused to attribute it to a certain annoying liger.
This might be their last night together. It was almost dawn. When the Beast fell into slumber, Zai would make his move.
He needed to leave.
For now, he went through the usual motions of skinning and roasting the kills the liger brought. He even went as far as to grunt:
“Good meat.”
Which made the overgrown feline preen and strut, his sculpted, spotted mane fluffing like a parrot’s crown, chest puffed out and back arched, tufted tail undulating to and fro. And that furry maw curled in a satisfied grin.
Inwardly, Zai shook his head. He bit his lip to hold back a smile of his own.
How easy it was to please the Beast. How good it felt to do so.
Like petting a temporarily tamed wild thing. Knowing it could bite your head off as much as it could embrace you in a snug cuddle and purr sonorously until the sound vibrated through both of you.
It was addictive to have this power. The power to sway such a force of nature. To literally have it eating out of your hand.
Just as Zai was doing now: holding out a choice hunk of bloody flesh in his palm toward the Beast, as reward for a job well done.
The feline played coy, suddenly pretending to be shy, chuffing beneath his breath while he took a meandering path toward Zai, golden muscles smoothly slinking.
Along the short distance between them, he stretched and yawned nonchalantly, putting his powerful body on display, as if to say:
Take a good look.
See how handsome I am? How strong.
And of all the hands I choose to eat out of, don’t you feel special that I choose yours?
Aye, Zai did feel special.
He didn’t understand why the liger treated him this way, but he understood that it was extremely uncharacteristic.
Special.
Finally, Sin came close enough to sniff his hand and the succulent piece of meat in his palm. The fattest part of the liver, a feline predator’s favorite morsel.
He didn’t take the food at first, sitting on his haunches and staring at Zai instead, cocking his great head to the side a little with a pointed look.
Zai could almost hear his thoughts. Perhaps, he did.
They said:
