Page 47 of Mates for the Raskarrans #1-6

“We will it,” I say, thinking of my favourite sentry post near the village - a platform high in the trees.

I can smell the cool night air in my nose, feel the breeze against my skin, hear it rustling the leaves.

And then we are there, transported by my memories.

My Ellie gasps, looking round at the platform, then up to the sky overhead.

The highest branches of the canopy are still above us here, but they are few, and there is a good view through them to the night sky beyond.

In my memory, it glitters with countless stars, and so too does it here in the dreamspace.

Ellie stares upwards, her lips parting as a soft gasp escapes her.

“How?” she says again.

I still have my hand on her arm, not wanting to break the contact between us for a moment. I step as close to her as I dare to get.

“This is one of my favourite places near my village,” I say.

“When we were a bigger tribe, we had no need for sentry posts. We were a peaceful people then, full of contentment and happiness. Sure that Lina would always provide. But there was a sickness that took so many of us, and now we all have a hole in our heartspace. Some of us turned to violence to fill it - stealing lands from other tribes, starting wars. If we have no future to think of, what is there to stop them doing such things?”

“Common decency?” my Ellie says, a hint of sharpness to her tone that makes me smile.

“I think many of my brothers have forgotten their decency. It is a simple thing to do. Much harder to hold on to it, despite everything.”

“Don’t I know it,” my Ellie mutters. “So this sentry post - it’s so you can watch for other people, people who might want to attack your village?”

“Other tribes, yes. We have fought off one attack in recent years. They learned not to pick on Gregar’s tribe - we are not such an easy target as they thought. The others do not enjoy watch duty. It is long, boring. But I like it up here. It is peaceful.”

And, feeling daring, I scoop her up in to my arms, walking to the edge of the platform.

My Ellie shrieks, hitting a hand against my chest, but not hard enough to make me think she means to fight me off.

I drop to the floor, dangling my legs over the edge of the platform, sitting Ellie beside me, her legs over my lap so I can keep her pressed close to me, safe.

Her arms have gone round my neck instinctively, and she grips me tight.

“Sometimes, in the trees, you can see nesting fire birds. We call them fire birds because of their red and orange feathers. When they are full grown, they are large enough to cause even a hunter as skilled as I am some difficulty, but as younglings…”

I lean forwards to move a branch aside. My Ellie gasps, squeezing closer to me, gripping me tight. I turn to her, our faces close.

“I will not let you go, my Ellie, I promise.”

She swallows hard, but nods. I wrap my tail around her leg to give her the extra feeling of security as I lean forwards again, gripping the very tip of a nearby branch between my fingers and drawing it aside.

In the waking world, this would never work, but this is the dreamspace, and it is a creation of our minds.

I will the fire bird younglings to be present, and so they are.

Two of them tucked together, sleeping. My Ellie’s gasp this time is wonder, not fear.

“Oh, they’re cute,” she says. “So small and fluffy. Not like the birds on the beach.”

I laugh. “Those have younglings that look like something out of a nightmare. But a grown fire bird is no less dangerous, just because it starts out life small and fluffy.”

I return the branch to its place, letting it go as close to its original position as possible so as not to disturb the sleeping birds.

It seems strange to give them such consideration when they are a creation of the dreamspace, but it feels right to respect nature at all times, not just in the waking world. Lina is ever watchful, after all.

I rise, unwinding my tail from my Ellie’s leg, and hold a hand out to help her up. She hesitates, but takes it, and I draw her back to the centre of the platform.

“Would you like to watch the stars with me?” I ask.

“Okay.”

I will some pelts into existence, then settle myself onto them, lying back. Ellie sits beside me, and after a moment, she lies with me, close, but not quite touching. I do not mind. My Ellie is like a nervous ensouka. I must approach her slowly, carefully, if I am to be successful in my hunt.

“So many stars,” she says. “I never saw so many before I came here.”

“Are there not stars above your village?” I say, then think of the strange, smooth cave. “Have you lived inside caves all your life?”

“Something like that.”

We are silent for a long moment. I listen to the sound of her breathing, wondering at the contentment I find in hearing that soft sound. I imagine her living in my hut, sleeping in my pelts, all her little sounds accompanying my days.

“I’m glad I got to see so many beautiful things, at least,” she says. “Before…”

She does not finish, but I know she is thinking she will not survive much longer. My poor linasha. So full of fear for herself and her tribe.

“I know you have no cause to believe me,” I say, turning on my side so I face her, “but I am not going to let anything happen to you or your tribe. I swear it to you, linasha, on everything that I have. I will protect you. I will feed you. I will care for you so well you will never be troubled with worries again.”

My Ellie looks up at me, her eyes soft and sad. She reaches up, brushing her fingers over my cheek. I nearly groan at the gentle touch.

“Don’t make me promises you can’t keep,” she says.

“Linasha, I…”

She silences me with a finger against my lips.

“Shh, don’t talk. Just…” Her hand trails down my neck. I swallow hard. “…distract me. Make me forget for a little while.”

She catches my hand in hers, moving it to cup the soft mound of her breast. The top she is wearing is small, thin, and I can feel the bud of her nipple beading through it.

Her breaths come faster, and when I trace my thumb across that little bud, her eyes close and she arches her back just a little, pressing herself into my palm.

I hesitate. Every inch of my body sings with the desire to keep touching her, but I have not so soon forgotten how unhappy she was to see my need for her that first night.

How she has told me many times that she does not wish to mate with me.

The joy that she wishes for me to touch her now is almost loud enough to hide away those thoughts.

Almost.

I lower my hand so it rests against her side, not her breast. My fingers skate over ribs, and I know I am right to force myself to stop, though it takes all my effort to do so.

She has not had enough to eat for some time, I think, before even arriving at the great salt waters at the edge of Lina’s forests.

If she were raskarran, she would know that I would do anything for her, that she is the most important thing to me.

There would be no question about it. But she is not raskarran.

I fear if I touch her now, she will think that her body is the price of my devotion.

“My Ellie,” I say, encircling her in my arms. “I would like to just hold you this night.”

It is not enough just to have her body. I want her heartspace to sing for me as mine does for her. A skilled hunter knows when to miss the chance to take his prey. When shooting down a single ensouka would be foolish, for following it a while longer will lead him back to the herd.