Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I head to the fire first, where there are many kits and females. Surely Maylak will be with them. She has a new kit of her own. But the faces that look at me are curious blanks. I do not recall their names. I try to focus on one. Ah, that one. With the black hair and the pale face. My brother Zennek’s mate with the funny name and the odd voice. I focus on her. “Have you seen the healer?”
Her black eyebrows go up and she looks worried. “Are you hurt? Shall I get Zen-nahk?”
I squint at her. It takes me a moment to realize that in her strange, rolling voice, she is speaking of my brother. Zennek, not Zen-nahk. “No, I merely wish to ask her a question.”
“Um, I don’t mean to point out the obvious, but your son is naked,” says another female. A chorus of giggles meet this announcement. “You want me to go wake up Stacy?”
“Stay-see must sleep,” I tell the giggly females and glance over at Pacy. My wrap has moved off of his shoulders, and his tiny tail is waving in the breeze. He gives me a delighted smile and taps a little hand on my face, and I chuckle to myself. How is such a small being mine? I feel a fierce, protective surge and hug him closer, re-wrapping him. “I will keep looking for Maylak. My thanks.”
“Check by Vektal’s tent,” offers a quiet female. Aehako’s mate, I think. She points in the direction of the far end of the encampment.
I nod and head toward the cluster of tents there.
At this end of the camp, Vektal crouches over a stone, spear in hand. He is using it to trace a map into the snow for Bek, Taushen, and the other hunters. Perhaps he is sending them off on a hunt while we travel. Days ago, I would have been the first to volunteer. Hunting is a source of pride, and I take great pleasure in it. But days ago, I was not thinking about my mate, Stay-see, or my small son, who even now is relieving himself on my arm and my favorite wrap. I adjust the leathers to try and find a dry spot, and when I do not find one, swap it out for the wrap I am wearing. I re-bundle him, tuck the filthy leather under my arm, and move to the other side of the camp, where the chief’s mate is talking with Asha as they pack their gear.
“Have you seen the healer?” I ask.
Asha frowns at me and moves forward, taking Pacy from my arms. “Why is your son naked, Pashov? Did you hit your head again?”
The chief’s mate gasps. “Asha!”
“I did not know how to tie his clothing,” I admit, and a flash of memory pulses through my mind. Of Asha, weeping over her small daughter, born too soon for even a khui to save. My gut clenches. It is a fresh memory, though it must be many seasons old by now, because I have my own son. I let her take Pacy, noting how her eyes light up at the sight of him. “Can you watch him for me for a moment, my friend? I wish to talk to the healer.”
Asha pulls Pacy close and holds her cheek to his, a peaceful smile on her face. “Of course. I am going to dress him properly, though.”
“If you do, you have my thanks.” I offer her the wet, pissed-on leathers I am carrying. “What do I do with this?”
“You take it back with you and clean it when we arrive at our new home,” Asha says.
The chief’s mate grimaces. “My laundry pile is growing enormous, too. If we stop near a hot spring, I’m going to ask Vektal if we can take a day and just clean clothing. Babies go through so many changes, and there’s no time to set out anything, much less dry it.” She turns her gaze to me. “Does Stacy have enough clothing for Pacy? Do you need extras? I know she lost everything in the cave-in.”
“I…did not think to ask. I will talk to her.” I feel shame. How have I not thought about my mate’s comfort? Every time I turn around, there is another task I am failing at. I must do better.
“Go find the healer,” Asha says, bouncing my son and making him laugh. “She is in the small tent near the end.”
I nod at the females and head toward the tent indicated. The flaps are closed, and so I clear my throat, unsure how to signal that I am waiting outside. I do not wish to be rude if she is mating with Kashrem.
Esha’s tiny head sticks out of the tent a moment later. Maylak’s kit. So small in my old memories, but a gap-toothed toddler now. I grin at her. “Is your mother inside?”