Page 23 of Mates for the Raskarrans #1-6

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Gregar

M y Liv keeps quiet as we walk. Her footsteps are louder than my own, despite her smaller size.

She has heavy coverings on her feet, not the supple hide boots that I wear.

It makes it harder for her, I am certain, but I do not think she is a natural hunter.

She does not know how to use her weight, where to set her feet.

She is clever, though, quick in her headspace.

She understands my attempts at communication, and I see her keeping a close eye on the treetops.

I take a moment to let my pleasure rule, delighting in my linasha and how perfect she is. But I only allow a moment - I have let her down once, I will not do it again. I must keep my headspace on the task of hunting for Ellie, not waste it thinking about my own luck.

So I push on, keeping my eyes busy looking for signs that someone came through here, keeping my headspace focused.

I search the trees for signs that Anghar has been in the area.

Hunters leave markings in the branches, but I do not know if he would have paused to do this as he pursued his linasha. I do not think I would have.

It is a disappointing morning. We travel far, but I see no sign of anything.

They have some hours of head start, could have gone in any direction.

My linasha and I do not have the benefit of a mental connection with Ellie, as Anghar does.

Finding her, I fear, will be more down to luck than skill.

But we do not need to find her, perhaps.

Just a sign that she passed this way and Anghar did, too.

Perhaps that will satisfy my linasha, reassure her that Ellie is alive, and that Anghar has or will very soon find her.

When there is no point traveling deeper in to the forest, I turn to suggest we walk parallel to the beach, loop back round and try to pick their trail up somewhere else.

If they had gone in this direction, I feel sure we would have noticed something.

My headspace is busy with how I can communicate this using gestures only, but as soon as I see my linasha, all thoughts of further hunting leave me in a moment.

She is upset, her cheeks marked with tear tracks, her eyes swollen and red. She said nothing, made no sound. It is no excuse. I did not tend to her carefully enough. I have let her down. Again.

Aghast, I go to her, but she backs away from me, her arms wrapped around herself.

Last night in the dreamspace, she lay nestled against me for hours, but now she rubs her hands over her sleeves, avoiding my eyes.

I am wondering what I have done to offend her when I realise I have been an idiot all over again.

She is filthy, her clothes caked in dirt.

She only had the salt water to wash with - it leaves things stiff, scratchy.

She does not know this place. Does not know which roots to use for cleaning.

It matters not to me - the grime of travel clings to my skin, too.

But I should not have expected it not to matter to her.

I wish I had the words to tell her that she has no need to feel shame in front of me. She could roll in ensouka muck and I would still want to touch her.

Softly, I approach her. I watch as she considers backing up again, looks round for somewhere to go, resignation when she realises there is not anywhere.

It is not how I wish to touch her. I want her to be willing, as she was in the dreamspace last night, not resigned.

But this is not about her pleasure or mine.

It is about her other needs. Comfort. Cleanliness.

I touch my hand to her cheek, brush away the tears there.

Then I take back my knife, slotting it back in my boot, and scoop her up into my arms. She yelps a protest, hits me once on the chest. But her tiny little fist just bounces off me, and when I set off walking, she looks up at me a moment before her body - stiff in my arms - relaxes.

Her hand lays flat against my chest and my heartspace sings.

I cannot help it. I will look after her, take care of her.

Show her the ways of this world and how to not just survive it, but to flourish.

I have not yet earned the joy such thoughts bring me. But I will look after her now. Hopefully, it will go some way to paying the debt I owe her.

My desire is to return her to my tribe lands, where I know every stream, every patch of geberren plant, every outpost and supply cache location.

But we are a long way from those lands and our tribes await our return.

I would not abandon them, and neither would my Liv want me to.

Instead, I pursue my original plan, heading parallel to the beach.

With my Liv in my arms, I can cover much more ground, though I do not run at full speed, not wanting to make the journey in any way uncomfortable for her.

Eventually, I find a stream and follow it, heading up its twisting banks towards its source.

I do not know this area, but I saw rocky formations in the distance on the beach, and this stream runs from their direction.

Where there are cliffs, there are often caves.

A nice sheltered cave and a water source would be a good start to making my linasha comfortable.

And perhaps it’s the sort of place Ellie might have headed for, too.

After another long while of walking, the stream narrows to almost nothing, then opens into a pool fed by a waterfall.

No cave, but enough open ground that I can set up the tent.

The water is good - clear and fresh. Which means that predators probably hunt here, waiting on prey to come to drink.

I set my linasha down at the water’s edge, then set up some defences.

Noise makers are easy to create. I pull vines from the trees, then tie them round stones and hang them from branches.

My Liv watches me. Then, after a moment, she starts to collect up stones.

She sees what I am doing, I think. Understands my actions.

Again, I am delighted by her. She is unhappy, yes, but she seeks to learn the ways of my world.

It is a good sign that she wants to do well here, not just give up.

While I am hunting for vines, I spy a patch of djenti bush.

I take a bowl from my pack and gather the berries, showing them to my Liv.

She picks one up and moves it towards her mouth.

I shake my head. She can eat it, but it is sharp and bitter.

Better to crush it into some water. Less overpowering that way.

I show her, taking a small stone and crushing the berries in the bowl, then slipping them into the waterskin, shaking it up.

I take a mouthful first so she knows it is safe, then hand it to her.

She drinks, grimacing at the tang of the berries.

“ Eugh, ” she says, swiping the back of her hand against her mouth before handing the waterskin back to me.

She is displeased now, but she won’t be when her aches start to ease, when she wakes up refreshed tomorrow, despite the walking she has done today.

Next, I dig around in the banks of the pond, looking for geberren root.

Eaten, it makes a raskarran lose his wits for a time, but crushed up, it can be used to clean clothes and bodies.

I find some, and turn to my Liv, gesturing for her to come and look, but she is removing her heavy foot coverings.

They are like boots, I realise, undoing at the side by some strange device rather than tying at the front like mine.

She pulls her foot out from inside it, wincing, then takes off the additional covering she has on it.

She grimaces, lifting her foot towards her face so she can examine it.

Even from a distance, I can see her heels have been rubbed raw by her boots.

“ Notgood, ” she says, shaking her head.

I dig out the geberren root and set it to one side, picking up my bowl instead.

I collect more of the berries, then set about making a fire.

My Liv watches, her eyes following my every movement as I strike a spark, nurse it in some leaves, then feed in twigs until it is going nicely.

Everything is so wet here, it is hard to get more than smoke from anything at first, but after a while I have it.

I take out a cooking pot and put the berries inside with a little water, boiling them down into a thick paste.

I set the pan in the shallow water to cool it, then gesture for my Liv to come to me.

She narrows her eyes, but shuffles forwards.

I take her injured foot in my hand, examining the abrasion.

It is only small, but I can tell it will be painful if she keeps walking, keeps aggravating it.

I test the temperature of the djenti berry paste, then smear a little over her heel.

My Liv flinches away from me, hissing as the djenti berries do their work. It always hurts, a sharp stinging sensation like lots of little teeth biting in. But then it passes, and the skin is healed. When she understands this, she will welcome the hurt of it.

I see the moment it stops hurting. My Liv’s brow relaxes, and she swipes at the paste with her fingers.

I gesture for her to come towards the water and she does, dipping her foot in to the cool liquid.

I rub the rest of the paste from her heels, then just rub my hands over her feet, trying to soothe her.

I watch closely as her eyes flutter shut, her breath releases.

“I will always care for you like this, linasha,” I say to her, wishing she could understand me.

She opens her eyes, looks at me. I lift her foot out of the water and show her the healed skin.

Her eyes widen, and she snatches her foot back, bending her leg again to bring it close to her face. She makes a sound of delight as she runs her fingers over her heel.