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“Your father. You say you dream of him. Doing what?”
“Oh.” Her cheeks are bright spots of color, but it is from the wind, I suspect. Even so, it makes her eyes sparkle and I much prefer that than the crying. “I dream about us going camping. Of us being in the outdoors together. And we argue, but it’s fun arguing, you know? Like we’re giving each other shit because that’s our way of showing affection.”
“You give each other shit?”
“Not like that.” She chuckles, and the sound is so lovely and unexpected that it staggers me with the beauty of it. She is oblivious to my awe, though, and continues. “When I say we give each other shit, we’re teasing. Giving each other a hard time.”
“Like how you give me shit,” I agree, pleased. I knew she was not immune to my appeal.
Vivi looks horrified at the thought. “What? No, that’s different.”
I nod sagely. “Even now, you give me shit. I approve.”
“No. I just—you know what? Never mind.” She shakes her head and grips the straps of her pack tighter. “It’s not worth the argument. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You said you have no family memories, but you seem more…with it than I am. You’re not freaking out about being a clone. You’re taking it all in stride. Why is that?”
I shrug. “Because I have memories of being a clone. I have always known I am one.”
“Is that what your memories are? Of being a clone? What does that entail?”
“Battle. Battle rules.” I pause. “Preparing for battle. Resting after battle. Training for battle.”
She makes a face at me. “Really? That’s all you have memories of?”
I do not know why she seems so displeased. I think they are perfectly good memories. Very useful for any upcoming sorts of competitions. “What else is there?”
“People? Do you remember anyone?”
“I remember ripping the head off of a particularly fierce opponent.” Ah, that was a good moment. How the crowd roared as his blood sprayed over my skin. It is my favorite memory, I think.
But Vivi makes a sound of distress. “I meant like a friend, Skarr.”
“Oh, do not be so concerned. He was very much not a friend. It was a good thing to rip his head off, trust me.”
The look in her eyes is soft and confused, as if she does not know what to make of me. “Have you ever had friends?”
“Like a partner in battle? I am a solo fighter.”
“No, like friends. Companions. People you enjoy being around. People you have good times with.”
“Bah. I do not need such things.”
“Everyone needs friends.”
Do they? I smile at her, because all the things she described are things I expect in my mate. A person I wish to be around? A person I wish to spend time with? It is Vivi. She is the answer. “I have you.”
She flinches at my response, though, as if she does not like it. “Oh boy, lucky me.”
“And luckyme,” I agree, adjusting my cloak over my hands again because they feel like ice. I nearly stumble but manage to catch myself before she notices. My foolish, poor knees are locking up in the cold and making it harder and harder to move. “But it is not luck as much as it is skill and our khuis acknowledging that we are the best specimens on this planet, and so we must make strong offspring together.”
She looks over at me. “You okay?”
“I am incredible. I am strong. Powerful. The best gladiator.”
“Mmmhmm.” She pulls a layer of fur off from around the inside of her cloak, one she had wrapped around her neck to keep it warmer. It is a thick, fuzzy square that looks quite inviting. “Here. Put this over your hands to keep them warm.”
