Page 40
Story: Feed Me to the Wolves
I swung around to look at him.
“We just ate. Before hiking out here.”
“I know.” He drew his shoulders up defensively. “It was a long hike.”
“And I saw you eat the better half of a loaf of bread on that hike.”
“I eat a lot!”
“I noticed!”
Somehow, we were fighting, and about nothing worth fighting over. So, he ate a lot. I didn’t care about that, not really. He was obviously big and manly and consumed food like a bonfire. That’s how they all were.
I was mad about other things, and the truth of it brought me shame. I was always mad about other things. There was no end to my ire. It fed me and fueled me, kept me going, but if I was being honest with myself—sometimes I tired of it. Sometimes, my own rage annoyed me. I wished I could put my anger down now and again, but the thought scared me.
Would I become complacent? Would I cave to their wants and forget my own, become the wife they wanted me to be and take a nice job doing sensible work?
I didn’t know, but I didn’t want to risk it.
I went back to rowing. My husband, thank Toke, kept his mouth shut while we traveled the river and navigated our way out onto the channel. I got into the rhythm of my paddling along to the channel’s pull, whichwas stronger and steadier than the river’s had been, and once again tried to imagine myself alone.
It was a long time before we came across the first inlet. It was too small, and we didn’t even exchange a word of discussion about it. The next inlet was better, and we paddled into it for a better look, but soon we were paddling right back out. It wasn’t big enough.
That’s how it went for what felt like a few hours while the big channel twisted and turned back on itself like a snake. My stomach was growling with hunger, and I considered the best way to ask for the food in Roan’s pack without bringing up the memories of our latest fight. There was no way, of course, and I relented.
“Throw me some food, will you?” I said, putting my oar down along the bottom of the canoe.
Roan did not let the moment pass easily.
“Ah, the higher being deigns to eat,” he said, tossing his oar down as well and reaching for his pack. I ignored him and wondered if he’d been just about writhing in hunger, waiting for me to ask. I supposed that made me a bitch.
He handed up a small loaf of bread and a wrapped cloth containing dried venison and fruits. I ate, content as we floated. By the time I was done, I had to pee like a moose.
“Let me off, will you?” I said, gesturing to the shore and lifting my oar.
He looked confused.
“I have topee.”
That got him moving. He grabbed his oar as well and steered us over. I hopped out when the bottom started to drag and pulled the canoe into the grassy shoreline. Then I headed off towards the trees.
Roan sounded nervous when he called out, “Don’t gotoo—”
“Far!” I said, cutting him off.
When I got back, his arms were crossed over his chest.
“Is that why you’re so mad at me?” he asked, a crease between his brows. “Because of what I said to Esska and Indi?”
I wracked my mind. I had no idea what he’d said to the two of them, and unease fingered its way up my spine.
“What did you say to Esska and Indi?”
He hesitated. “That’s not why you’re mad?”
“What did y-you say to them?”
“Look, it doesn’t matter. But you’ve been furious with me for days, and I can’t figure out why. I thought things were getting better and then—”
Table of Contents
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