Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
He lowers the fillet and rests his arm on his knee as he eyes me. "That's not much of a reward."
I gesture loftily between us. "And yet here you are, desperate for my attention."
Valmir snorts at that. He moves over to the cooking supplies and grabs a few skewers, pushing them through the fish he's prepared. "Fine, I'll cook. We'll eat together, and you can tell me what my next task is and what my reward will be." He eyes me as he sprinkles herbs and salt on the fish. "And it needs to be a better reward than feeding you. That's something I plan on doing anyhow."
Well now, that intrigues me. "Is that so?"
"Of course. It's one of the rules of mating. A male provides for his female and makes sure she's well fed." He maneuvers closer to the fire, stabbing the skewered fish into the coals momentarily. "This fire is almost dead. I need to stoke it if we're going to have a decent meal. You were not prepared for this meal at all."
His irritated tone amuses me. I like getting under his skin...fur...whatever. "Just more for the male to handle, pussycat. Besides, I've got a sick patient I'm tending to."
Valmir's catlike mouth twists into a sour expression. He shakes his head at me, then gets busy building up the fire. As he does, he moves around the hut, bundling up the skin with the innards and putting it out of the way until it can be disposed of. The discarded fish head and filleted carcass will be saved for soup at the main fire, the guts used for fishing traps. Everything will find its purpose. I appreciate that. It's respectful of the life taken.
He stokes the fire, then moves the skewers out of the way of the flames, angling them over the rocks so the flesh of the fish can cook. After he's tidied up, he washes his hands with my meltwater and wipes them on the long hem of his tunic. "Tell me about yourself."
His request surprises me. "Me?"
"No, the rodent on your lap. Of course, you."
I resist the urge to reach across the fire and smack his face. Snarky bastard. "Well, my name is April and I don't like you very much."
"No one does." He seems unbothered by this, reaching out to nudge one of the skewers. I wish I could be so nonchalant about how everyone else thinks of me, but I'm a social creature at heart. I want to be liked and I want to get along with everyone. I do get along, for the most part. There's just something about Valmir that sticks in my craw. When I'm silent, he indicates I should continue. "Go on. There has to be more to you."
I absently stroke Makana's head as I consider my answer. What do I tell him about me that doesn't feel like I'm baring my soul? "I remember a few things about where I came from, but not much. It comes out in random moments when I'm not thinking actively about who I was. There's a language that comes out in bits and pieces in my head, too, but the translator doesn't know it. It's frustrating, because it feels like information I should have and it's just…not there. It's like I have puzzle pieces but they don't fit together. Something in my brain isn't meshing."
"Mm. Perhaps more will come if you concentrate."
I press my hand over my heart. "That's just it. The more I try to focus, the further the memories drift away. If I stop to remember the city I'm from, nothing comes to mind. I don't know the name. I don't know what my house looked like. But I know I lived somewhere warm, because I catch myself wanting to make jokes about the cold and how much clothing I'm wearing."
That makes him pause. "You wore less clothing back where you were from?"
Count on a guy to clue in on that. "Yeah."
His furry brows go up. "Then being here must bother you. The humans are constantly throwing on more layers of clothing."
Observant. "What about you? Do you find it cold here?"
Valmir shrugs. "It is cold but I am insulated well enough. My skin is not naked like yours. And I recall nothing of the planet I am from."
His expression remains unbothered, but I notice his tail flicks, and it reminds me of an agitated cat back home. What's agitating him, I wonder. Talk of clothing? Talk of naked skin? I decide to prod a bit more, because the ornery part of me enjoys bothering him. "Yeah, I don't like wearing so much all day. I'd much rather sleep without clothing on but it's far too cold here."
Again, his tail flicks even as his face remains impassive. "Mm."
"My nipples would be fricking ice cubes, you know? You could hang a coat off them."