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“Is this another game of chase?” Vin got to his feet. “I don’t have another pair of pants to ruin.” He gestured at the stained slacks I’d mostly washed in the river.
“Would you like a pair of my sweats?” I asked innocently.
“I should say no because that expression suggests I am not going to like whatever comes of this.”
“I can’t imagine what you could be upset about.” I didn’t give him a chance to change his mind, strolling over to the wardrobe to grab a pair of gray sweats. “I’ll even put on a pair.” I tossed him one pair and pulled on the other.
He caught them but narrowed his eyes. “This already feels like a trap. Are you feeling alright? Choosing to wear clothes?”
I grinned. “Can’t imagine what you could be talking about. It’s nice to change it up sometimes. You’ll have to take them off me later.”
He glanced around. “Did a cryptid steal your body while I slept last night?”
I laughed. “Skin Wearers don’t come on our land, and we don’t venture onto theirs. We have respect between our kinds.”
Vin did a double take. “No, I’m not going to ask. I don’t want to know.”
I shrugged. “How will you avoid them if you don’t know where they reside?”
He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. “Not today, Satan.”
I shrugged, walking past him. “Better put those on. I’m leaving.”
I heard him shove out of the slacks, and I paused to glance over my shoulder. His iron-wrapped body flexed and chiseled, cock massive, and he wasn’t hard. My mouth watered, but we could give in to arousal later. We had things to do. He pulled the sweats up his massive thighs and onto his hips with effort. My grin returned.
“You asshole.” He looked at the ceiling and muttered something in French I couldn’t catch.
“What’s wrong?”
“These are skin-fucking tight.” He gestured at his hips.
“I’m failing to see the issue? Unless you’re worried about busting out of them when you bend over. That is a real concern.”
Vin hissed. “You’re lucky there is no one else for miles.”
I grabbed my bag and stepped outside, ignoring his threats. “You’re wasting daylight.”
He huffed and caught up with me as I joined the path into the forest. The opposite way than we’d gone for our play. “Are you going to fill me in on where we’re going?”
“Foraging. I’m going to teach you useful life skills.”
That earned me a look. “What? It’s barely spring.”
“Winter crops.”
“Are you secretly a farmer?” He looked around. “I don’t see fields.”
“We don’t grow food like humans do. Or maybe I should say like Europeans do. We grow food the way the Gods intended. We respect the land and don’t over-cultivate. Nearly everything is edible in our woods. This entire country used to be this way. The indigenous humans lived in harmony with the land long before anyone else came here. They encouraged their food to grow everywhere. It helps with pests and disease and with other animals. It’s a little more work and awful for capitalism, but we don’t care about fabricated systems that exploit its poor.” I bent to check the spinach I’d found before tearing off a handful to put in my bag.
Vin watched as I led us deeper. “What other things grow this time of year?”
“Plenty. We have mostly native things, but also have introduced more diversity. Brussel sprouts, broccoli, peas, leeks, roots like radishes and turnips, yams, cabbages and other tubers, green onions, kale, and other hardy greens.” I picked as we walked, showing him the hidden food littering the underbrush. “Come June, there will be berries and potatoes, squash, more beans, corn. Lots.”
“And you don’t do anything?”
“We do, but it’s not the same as commercial farming. How do you think we feed so many ravenous wolves?” I laughed because this wasn’t a secret. More a lost art since the world sped up. These practices were too slow for the fast-paced world. “Where’d you go?”
He wasn’t beside me, and when I turned around, he was a handful of paces back, staring at me.
