Page 69 of Phoenix's Fire

"Maybe not, but I'm hoping you'll run away with me."

I wanted to. Oh, that sounded so very nice, but what I told him was, "We'll see. You still have to prove yourself, Mr. Warren."

"Cross my heart," he whispered.

Twenty-One

Zasen

My mother had decided we were having a cookout? If that was the case, I needed to go hunting. Previously, if the kill wasn't clean, I'd finished the animal off with a quick sting. For Meri, that would be a problem.

Our venom was potent; although eating the meat of something killed with it was unlikely to be fatal, itwouldmake Meri sick. Very sick. My bigger concern was a miscarriage. That girl was malnourished enough, and frail enough, that anything might push her body over the edge.

Coincidentally, Ayla also needed to learn how to hunt, use her bow, and move in the wilderness. So, when the sun sank that evening, I sent Ayla up to change clothes, then put on my loincloth. The lack of bulky fabric would give me an advantage in the forest. My scaled skin didn't cut or puncture as easily as Ayla's. Mostly, I preferred to use my natural camouflage to make it easier to sneak up on my prey.

I also wanted to prove there was nothing wrong with showing my skin.

Ayla had gotten a lot more confident in the time she'd been here, but she still clung to a few of those Mole ideas. It was habit, I knew that, yet my goal was to steadily broaden her horizons until she could no longer remember why she'd been so concerned about propriety in the first place.

As soon as we were ready, we left, jogging quietly into the forest behind the house. After doing this a few weeks now, Ayla could keep up easily - or close enough. Our work was mostly silent, but I preferred it that way. She didn't need to chatter to be entertained or directions to understand what came next. I simply made gestures, showing her the direction to go.

Strangely, the ever-present game seemed to be in short supply this time. Carefully, we drifted further and further from town, seeking our prey. The onlything I saw was a squirrel, but it was high in a tree. The shot was nearly impossible and not worth wasting an arrow. Even the birds were absent this evening.

We pushed on. The sky was a glowing pink and gold when we stumbled upon the largest deer I'd ever seen, but I waved Ayla off before she could shoot at it.

"It's too big and will spoil, plus she has a fawn," I told her, pointing out the udder swollen between its hind legs.

She nodded, so I gestured for her to take the lead. Quietly, almost silently, she did. The girl could move over the twigs and fallen leaves without crashing around. That had been our very first lesson, but she was a natural. Then again, it made sense. In the Mole base, being loud would've meant getting noticed, and for a woman, that was dangerous.

I was distracted by my thoughts when up ahead, Ayla froze. Immediately, I locked all my muscles, immobilizing my body. Slowly, carefully, she pulled out an arrow and nocked it to her bow. Her eyes were focused on her target, just like I'd taught her. Releasing my body, I carefully took another step so I could see what she was hunting.

No more than four trees away was a juvenile deer. It was a young male, so a good target for her, and so far, she was doing everything right. Patiently, she lined up her shot, leaning just a bit...

Her quiver bent a branch with her movement. It snapped back, the sound soft but still enough to alert the deer. His head snapped up, his ears swiveled. Letting out her breath like I'd taught her, Ayla took the shot just as the deer bounded away. I groaned as her arrow sailed within inches of its haunches, missing completely.

"Do you know what happened?" I asked, moving towards her.

Ayla huffed in frustration and stormed forward to retrieve her arrow. "Foolish, uneducated, irresponsible woman," she grumbled under her breath. "Stop daydreaming and focus, girl. Can't you get anything right?"

I jogged to catch up just as she reached the spot where her arrow was buried in the dirt. Before she could bend to retrieve it, I grabbed her arm, turning her so she had to face me.

"None of those things are true," I insisted.

She tossed me a smile and then reached down for her arrow. "I know, but I don't know enough profanity, and those are the horrible words men used. The strange thing is that it does kinda make me feel better."

"Shit," I told her. "Say it."

"Shit?" she asked.

I nodded. "Fuck?"

"Fuck."

"Damn."

A tiny little smile appeared at that one. "Damn. That's one I know."

"That fucking bush," I said, "is a piece of shit, and damn it to Hell." I reached up to brush back a few short hairs from her temple. "That's how you use profanity. Plus, it feels better than putting yourself down."