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Family.
My earlier thoughts return, fluttering wings like sparrows in the snow, about how I barely remember the word, the feeling, but with them, with her, it becomes familiar again.
It’s all too much, and the wonder and relief turn into panic, the pounding in my head rising to a deafening buzz.
Dragging myself onto my side, I retch, my stomach turning itself inside out, sourness scouring my throat.
“Oh no. He must have hit his head.” Ariadne sounds dismayed. “Like you did, Finn.”
“I didn’t retch,” he says, annoyed. He often sounds annoyed. Something must be bothering him. I get like that when fireants burn me and the area itches for days.
“Or maybe we pushed him too much,” Tash says thoughtfully. “Me with my questions, you with the information and the options he’s never had before.”
I blink. Of all of them, I hadn’t expected him to be the one to get this.
“You don’t have to do anything, Kia,” she says gently.
“Do you understand, Wildman?” Finnen mutters. “Take your time to decide. If you prefer the wilderness and your privacy, that’s up to you.”
Looks like I’m expected to say something anyway. Like it’s my turn to give some information.
“I… was alone… for long time.” I rub my mouth. My throat burns. “I’m not… an idiot.”
“No, that would be Taj,” Finnen says and I think I hear a smirk in his voice. “Definitely.”
Is he serious? Is he teasing?
I’m not sure I understand this man. Finnen. He’s strong, obviously stubborn, but also denies what he feels, what his body demands. How can you trust someone who is lying to himself all the time?
How can I trust any of them? I’ve spent my life in distrust. It saved me again and again, from avoiding brightly colored mushrooms to approaching other people. She broke that cycle, but what if I’ve made a mistake?
Straightening, shifting onto my knees, I wipe at my mouth. “I don’t know you. Any of you.”
“Fair point,” Ariadne says. “I am Ariadne Vespere. I was an acolyte of holy Artume until recently, at the fort of Artare.”
“And I was a commander in the Imperial army,” Taj says. “Up until a couple of days ago.”
I frown. Turn to look at Finnen. “And you?”
“I am a priest,” he says stiffly.
Something’s odd about the way he speaks his line, as opposed to the others, and it takes me a long moment to sort it out.
I am a priest.
Not I was.
I don’t know what that means—for me, for them, for everything. And it doesn’t help me decide if I should follow them—for a clan, for a family—or turn my back on them and trudge back to my cave, my familiar world and my way of living.
Until I am called to fight in the army.
Or die of loneliness. I’ve been lonely for so long it’s a festering wound in my chest.
But I also like being alone. I’m used to it. It’s easier to think when I don’t have three other persons talking, asking questions, invading my space, needing my attention.
I thought the choice was clear-cut. I’m lonely. But I’m used to hunting, fighting big animals, gathering fruit and nuts, preparing furs to wear. It all takes time and concentration, and gives a result. Being around people is… messy. Unpredictable. Tricky.
And this mate business… what does it mean long term? Why are they here? Where are they going? What do they really want? That’s the burning question. Her touch mesmerizes me, her perfume arouses me, I like being near her, I want to keep her safe… I want to sniff at the two men, touch them, see if they are nice, if they are as interesting as they seem…
