Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
For the first time in weeks, I’m not obsessing over my burns. I’m not frantic with how ugly I am, or how much Johani would disapprove. I’m thinking about babies. Babies with O’jek’s long, beautiful braid and soulful eyes. A baby boy with that reluctant, almost shy smile of his, as if he thinks no one expects him to be happy. Our babies would have the shorter horns of Shadow Cat clan and the furred limbs. I touch my new hair and wonder if they would have my blonde or if they would look entirely like him. I’d be happy with either, I think. I find O’jek handsome. He’s not as pretty as A’tam, but overall Shadow Cat is a handsomer clan than the others. He doesn’t have the bulk that U’dron does, or even the height that I’rec does, but there’s something so intense about O’jek that draws me to him. Soulful, I decide. Like his emotions are just hiding under the surface and if I scratch away enough, he’ll reveal them to me.
He’s absolutely the only one I would want to do this with. I can’t even consider the thought of approaching R’jaal and suggesting that he make a baby with me. I know he’d say yes, but…I don’t want a baby with him. He’s sweet and kind and good-looking, but I can’t imagine touching anyone but O’jek.
I nibble on my nails, nervous that O’jek will say no and it’ll somehow destroy our friendship. Then, I catch myself nibbling and force my hands into my lap, clasping them. Perfect hands are the hallmark of a well-bred female, Johani’s voice says in my head. And I need my female to look perfect. Imperfections are a stain upon my name.
I wonder how O’jek feels about imperfections. I should ask before I stress myself out too much, so I know what to expect from him if we do this.
When we do this, I correct myself. Think positive.
Lying on the furs, I wait with my hands clasped on my stomach for his return. I know he’s rattled by my request, but he’ll come check on me. He always makes sure that I’m all right, and my heart does a funny little flip at the realization. He’s so caring, O’jek. I’ve always just taken it for granted, but now that I’m thinking about it, he always makes certain that I’m pampered and taken care of—
The flap to the hut opens and O’jek ducks inside.
I sit up, beaming at him. “Hi!”
He casts a worried look, noticing where I’d kept my hands. “Are you well, D’see? You did not come out for dinner. Does your belly ache?”
I shake my head quickly. “I’m fine. I was just holding my hands there so I wouldn’t bite my nails. Gotta keep my hands perfect.”
O’jek blinks. “Why?”
“Because it’s important,” I say with firmness. “It’s part of appearances, and appearances are always tantamount. Did you…think about what I asked?”
“Did you eat dinner?”
Seriously? He wants to talk about dinner right now? I give him an exasperated look. “Can’t it wait until after we talk?”
The stubborn expression returns to his face. He points at me. “You need to eat, female. I will get you food, and you will eat it, and then we will talk.”
“Ugh, fine.” I recognize that look on him. When he gets like that, there’s no talking to him until he gets his way.
O’jek disappears and returns again a short time later with two steaming bowls of stew. Today’s is a mixture of fish and herbivore meat, based on the smell, and I take my portion from him with the barest wrinkle of my nose. My appetite is still off, but I know he’s going to force me to eat every bite. He glares at me as he settles down next to the cold fire pit (which I’ve let go out again) and flicks his long braid back. I grab a pair of carved spoons and hand him one and get out our cups so he can pour water from his skin. It’s a little ritual with us. He finds out I haven’t eaten, he fusses, I eat, and we sit together in the dark and I feel less sad because he cares enough to make sure that I’m taken care of.
I take a bite of food and automatically hold it out to him. “Seasoning?”
He huffs, but I know my tiny request makes him happy. O’jek is weird about his cooking skills. He loves to cook and he’s amazing at it. Over the last few years, he’s been perfecting his skills, and whenever there’s a bad weather day that means he’s staying around camp, I get excited because it means delicious food and O’jek’s company all day long. He never cooks for the entire camp, and he gets flustered if I mention how good his food is, but after tasting his cooking, the rest of the food is edging on bland. He’s good at adding the right amount of spices to make each dish tasty, and when he sprinkles a bit of dried green flecks atop my bowl and hands it back, I beam a smile at him.