Page 87 of Mates for the Raskarrans #1-6

As long as we are on our territory, I do not feel the need to scout ahead.

I know these trees as well as my own hut, know all the places we might encounter problems. When we come to the small brook, the ensouka herd that sometimes waters there are nowhere to be seen.

When we reach the tree where the firebirds nest, I do not even look up.

It is not the season for them. They will have travelled away from Lina’s forest with the big rains approaching.

Afterwards, they will return to lay their eggs.

I wonder if that is something Rachel would like to see, and turn to ask her, forgetting for a moment that I do not have the words to do so.

Rachel gives me a questioning look, so I point to the top of the tree, then hook my thumbs together and flap my hands like wings.

“ Bird? ” Rachel says, looking up at the tree.

I draw her attention back with a tap on her shoulder.

“ Bird ,” I say, repeating her word for the flying creatures. “Not there right now.” I shake my head, point off into the distance. “They will be back after the rains. They are big.” I hold my hands out wide. “And they have feathers the colour of your hair.”

I take a lock of her hair between my fingers.

It is silky and so fine. Raskarran hair is thicker, more coarse.

Everything about the human females is soft, delicate.

They were not made for a world such as ours.

But from how Sally and Gregar talk of the human world, they were not well made for that, either.

I would fear they are too fragile to survive, but Sally is proof that they can flourish.

I realise I have been touching Rachel’s hair for too long.

She is frowning at me, but not in displeasure.

She looks amused. And confused. I have not conveyed my message well.

But an idea strikes, and I gesture for her to remain where she is, setting my pack down at her feet.

I loose my claws and quickly scale the big tree.

It would be wrong to disturb the nest if the grown firebirds were here with their younglings.

It is not the place of a raskarran to interfere with the natural order of their lives that way.

We do not eat firebirds, and they do not bother us as long as we do not bother them.

We have no need to be poking our noses in their nests.

But right now the creatures are far away, and the big rains will wash away any scent I leave long before they return.

When I arrive at the level of the nest, I spot my quarry and grab it before climbing back down.

I drop the last bit, landing hard enough to need to bend my knees to absorb it.

I do not feel as steady as I should, but my legs were wobbling only walking as recently as yesterday.

It is a good sign that my strength is improving.

That I will be back to my proper duties on my return from this journey.

I walk over to Rachel and present her with a long, fire coloured feather. The way her eyes widen with delight pleases me immensely.

“ Oh!” she says. “ Theyhavfeatherslikmyhair . ”

She holds the feather against her head, grinning.

When she smiles like that, her eyes glitter, like dewdrops on the dark forest leaves.

And I am a hopeless male, for my heartspace races knowing that I was the one who made her smile that way.

It is an intoxicating feeling. I know I must stop.

Must distance myself from her. But I do not know how to do such a thing when she is like sunlight, and my world would be darkness without her.

It is growing late when we cross out of our territory, into the lands between the tribes that no raskarran claims. Darran’s village is a good four-day walk north of here.

A fully fit raskarran could perhaps make it in three.

With Rachel, and my injuries, I think we will see five or six sunsets before we reach Darran’s hearth.

I am not sad about this. I know speed is what the tribe needs to make sure Darran is able to join with us before the big rains, but extra days travelling is extra time spent with Rachel. I am a selfish male that way.

We walk for a short while until the way starts getting difficult in the fading light.

I take Rachel’s hand to help her over a fallen branch, and when she has scaled it, she does not let me go.

Even as my chest puffs up, pride that she seeks help and comfort from me filling it, I recognise it as a sign that we need to stop.

The next suitable clearing we come to, I set my pack down and gesture for Rachel to stay, then quickly scout the area, making sure there are no predators nearby.

When I get back, I set some noisemakers about the clearing to alert us to anything that might approach, then begin to build the tent.

Rachel helps me by holding the pegs and handing them to me every time I need one.

It is a small thing. Unnecessary. But it makes my heartspace full of joy.

The tent is one of the smallest. Gregar insisted I did not take a full-size one, for it would weigh me down more.

A sensible thought, but now I fear it is too small for Rachel’s comfort.

It is a small space to be enclosed with a male who is not your mate.

I hope that she knows I would do nothing to hurt her, that even the thought of her discomfort has my stomach twisting around inside me.

But if Rachel has concerns, she does not show them.

She just ducks inside the tent, humming in her tuneless way as she unpacks our supplies, handing me anything to do with food, while laying out our pelts to sleep in for later.

There is a brief moment where she pauses, looking at the available floor space and the pelts in her hands, as if she is unsure how to make them fit.

But she just folds her pelts over, reducing their size, and tucks them into a smaller space, giving me more room to spread out.

When she is done, she smiles to herself, as if the arrangement pleases her.

It is the same expression she wears when she has finished organising Shemza’s supplies in the healer hut, and it pleases me to see it.

In spending my time watching her, I have failed to do my part of the work.

I begin to gather fallen twigs and branches to build a fire.

When Rachel notices, she comes out to help, and though I feel a pinch of guilt in my heartspace about it, it is pleasing to work alongside her.

She continues her tuneless humming, and I have never found building a fire a more pleasant experience.

Once the fire is crackling, Rachel sits beside it, warming her hands.

It is not cold to me, but I worry that her fragile skin does not protect her.

So I grab my pelts that she so carefully laid out and wrap them round her shoulders.

She looks a little surprised, but after a moment, she wraps them tight around herself, a look of pleasure on her face.

I wait until the fire has burned down some, then set about cooking up a broth.

Rachel watches as I work, and it is the same look she has when she watches Shemza prepare a poultice. She wishes to learn.

And I wonder again about her world that she does not know how to produce even basic meals.

She is not the only one among the females who does not have this knowledge.

Their tribe chiefs made sure they did not know a great many things.

It saddens me that there are leaders out there who could be so cruel to their tribe sisters.

I cook slowly so Rachel can watch. Tomorrow, when I prepare our next meal, I will ask for her help, and she will know what to do as she watches carefully and has a clever mind.

I will teach her whatever she wishes to learn about so she can be happy and skilled in our way of life.

I cannot be her mate, but I can do this for her.