Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
J’son—who is not nearly as strongly built as the other taters—jogs over to us. He has an irritated look on his face. “Word of advice, Skarr. When you’re trying to have a friendly conversation, it helps to actually refer to someone as their name and not ‘human’ or ‘you over there.’”
“I am not interested in a friendly conversation,” Skarr continues. He eyes the human male. “I’m talking with R’jaal here and we had a question about humans. You know Rosalind?”
J’son puts his hands on his hips, squinting for a moment as if to recall. “Oh, right. Yeah. The shy blonde with the big—“ He lifts his hands to his chest, looks over at me, pauses, and then scratches at the front of his thick tunic. “Uh, eyes.”
S’karr snorts.
I incline my head. She does have fine eyes, indeed. “That is my mate.”
“What about her?” J’son asks, shifting on his feet and avoiding eye contact with me.
“Would she want a mating feast?” S’karr tilts his head. “I am trying to help my friend out.”
“Sounds like you’re trying to start something to me,” J’son comments. “And he’s the one mated to her. He should know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Sabrina wants some fish gutted and skewered and that sounds far less dangerous than this conversation.”
He nods at me and then leaves, eyeing S’karr with distaste.
It is not just me, then. The male at my side seeks to irritate. He smirks at me once more, and I decide I have had enough. I straighten and lean in toward him. “Leave the females alone. All of them. And keep R’slind’s name out of your mouth.”
“So friendly,” S’karr drawls. He says nothing more, though, and I am satisfied.
I abandon my spot near the center of camp and go hunting for my mate instead. She went to visit T’ia at her hut and then was going to change into a fresh tunic for the feast. In between her “book making” with D’vi and H’nah, she has been working on a new set of leathers she is excited to show off.
In the days since we have completed resonance, R’slind has been keeping busy. She spends her time with T’ia or with the other females that work on books. I am teaching her how to make fire and she wishes to learn how to fish and hunt, but is not ready quite yet. She has learned to make shrimp tea, though, and exclaims over it every morning with the other humans. At night we curl up in the furs together and talk of our day—mine full of hunting and training the newcomers to be hunters, and hers spent in camp.
Perhaps I should have insisted upon a feast for R’slind to make her feel special. I contemplate this as I approach our hut. As if she senses my nearness, R’slind lifts the door flap to the hut and steps out—
—and the breath leaves my chest.
My mate is beyond beautiful. She has indeed made a lovely set of leathers for herself. They are pale, with a bit of fur trimming the collar and long sleeves. The leather is gathered under her teats, showing off their plump roundness, and her mane has been pulled into a soft tail off to one side. There is a pink thing tied in with her mane, and her lips are bright pink as if she is feverish. I smell fruit when I approach her, and realize that she has put a “lip stain” that T’ia made for her on her mouth.
“R’slind. You take my breath away.” I put my fist to my chest, over my humming khui, and stare in wonder at this lovely creature that is my mate.
She brightens at my words, her cheeks flushing with pleasure. “Do you like it?” She twirls, showing off her clothes. “The needlework is terrible, but Callie says I’ll get better with time. And the flower I made? What do you think?”
She touches the pink thing in her mane and I move forward to look at it. It is a tie, and attached to the tie is…well, a thing. It is pale pink and is made of leather that has been cut into folds that lie together. There is a nub in the center and the entire thing reminds me of…her cunt. It does not look like a flower as much as it does when my tongue delves between her slick folds, seeking out her clit.
But I am no fool. R’slind has worked hard on this and I give her a look of approval. “You are the most beautiful female in the world.”
She bites her lip and slides her arms around mine, holding on to me. “And I have the best date tonight.”
Even though the feast is one of celebration, it is obvious that all is not well with the tribe. F’lor and I’rec are full of joy, of course. But there is tension between the taters and the ancestors. They do not seem to like each other much. R’hosh and R’kh and their mates talk quietly for most of the night, shooting glances my way, and I know they wish to discuss leadership things. Things like how we can stop the budding antagonism between the newcomers, or how to deal with Rem’eb, who has made it clear that he is only here because T’ia is. Set’nef sits next to a female who shoves food into his hands, and Tal’nef is playing a hand game with one of the kits.