***

CHAPTER EIGHT

***


They had traveled for another day down the mountain and made camp without saying much, the next morning setting out along a worn path that meandered through the rocks. Venka's nostrils flared as she noted many tracks and scrapes as they walked, the huntress guessing that it was used by a number of different animals out of convenience. The scent of prey lingered in the air, mingling with the crisp mountain breeze. Predators lurked where prey frequented, and she stayed ever vigilant, her muscles taut as she guided Davee away from dangers when her instincts sounded the alarm. As dusk approached, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, she chose to camp on a relatively flat, slightly sloped spot in the hills.

Sleep did not come easy for either of them until they completed a fitful migration around the shelter ending in a smooth rut between the unseen rocks that put them next to each other. With no fire and the cold setting in, they sought warmth in each other's presence. The rustle of their blankets and the soft whisper of their breath were the only sounds in the stillness of the night.

Venka woke up holding his blanketed form close to her chest, a strange, comforting sensation washing over her. Her tail twitched contentedly as she watched the slow rise and fall of the blanket with each gentle breath. Despite how familiar and natural it felt, she could not recall ever feeling that way before. A sensation of protectiveness, a sated longing, and perhaps a glimmer of hope rolled into one. She relished this feeling so much that she drifted back to sleep, lulled by the rhythmic sound of Davee's breathing.

At dawn, they were startled awake by the shrill call of an animal from the rocky heights. They milled about aimlessly, eating their remaining food that required no fire. Venka's snout wrinkled as she sampled the exotic supplies that Davee had brought with them. They were not always so delectable, and even he seemed to grimace from the taste, his face contorting in a way that almost made her chuckle. From that point onward, they would need to preserve their stock of his alien rations, and any further supply of food would need to be procured from natural sources.

As Venka walked back into camp, the gravel crunching under her feet, she saw Davee looking up at her. His brow furrowed as he asked, "Where are we going?"

Tossing the dressed and skinned carcass of one of the mountain animals down, she used some of the moss to scrub her scales clean of blood and grime. The earthy scent of the moss mixed with the metallic tang of blood as she worked. Water was scarce, but the moisture in the moss combined with dirt's grit was enough to mask the smell.

"Away from here," she finally answered, watching him use the impossibly sharp blade to cleave through the meat and bone. "Your speech has improved."

"Thank you," he mumbled wearily, still with a very thick accent.

Venka's tail swished playfully as she smirked and asked, "Can you sing?" When he looked at her, she demonstrated with a small tune, her voice carrying on the mountain air.

"No, not me, but if you give me some days, I might have something like that," he answered. He lifted the meat and added, "Thank you for getting this."

Pride swelled through her, Venka grinned and asked, "Does it please you when I hunt?"

"I like to eat," he confessed with a small chuckle. "This is the only thing I know I can eat."

Between them sat a stack of dried mushrooms, preserved by the mountain air and still bundled from their misadventures two days ago. The fungi gave off a faint, earthy aroma. They had lost much flavor and required Davee's skilled hands to prepare them, but the unspoken implication was there. Eventually, he would have to try something he could find on his own.

Davee reached out, broke off a small piece, and sniffed it before putting it to his tongue.

"Tastes... burns, what word is for that?"

"Spicy," she explained, watching him closely. Her feathers flicked, betraying her concern. "I enjoy these, but you said they will kill you. They are poisonous to humans, are they not?"

"Many mushrooms are," he admitted, staring at the small piece. "Maybe they will be safe if I cook them."

Unable to contain her excitement, she grinned and nodded with palpable enthusiasm. "You are good at this. I think you deserve to try what you craft so well," she said.

Davee grinned and nodded. "Tonight I try," he said. "Only a small piece.

***

After the sun had moved from shining on her right side to above, they paused to rest against a rocky ledge. The rough stone pressed against Venka's back, a stark reminder of the harsh terrain they'd left behind. Their long walk had seen the end of the mountains and many hills as they approached a flat expanse. Scattered with smaller thickets of trees and wide-open grassland, she felt some relief having finally left that harsh terrain that had hurt her feet day after day. The soft rustling of grass in the breeze was a welcome change from the echo of their footsteps on stone.

Venka's nostrils flared, taking in the new scents. She felt most at home under the protective canopy of a jungle, but the marshes seemed familiar enough to the river's end that had been the Hollow Reed lands for generations. Here it felt strange; the swamps had no fish, and the animals were swift and preferred to travel in large herds. The air carried the musty scent of damp earth and wild grasses.

Her keen eyes caught movement in the distance. Venka had noticed some others of her kind, their color green and gray without visible stripes. They seemed to be a hunting party moving from the west and disappearing behind a small forest. Other tribes along the way had mentioned the Upright on this side of the mountain to be aloof and unwelcoming, but not a threat to travelers. Beyond them were tribes that were said to be suspicious of outsiders, perhaps even violent, while others had a reputation for male raiding and aggression.

Finding others of her kind always filled her with excitement. Visitors were fun and interesting, but for the first time, Venka did not relish meeting new people. Reluctantly, she glanced over at Davee, who simply sat and sipped on his water, unaware of the potential threat.

He sighed and said something.

"Hmm? I could not hear that," she said, giving him her full attention.

Davee shook his head, his hair ruffling in the wind. "I said in my tongue, I say the land is..." he brushed a hand over his face, searching for the right word. "Look good."

"Pretty? Beautiful?" she offered, smirking at the fact that he demonstrated with himself. Her eyes roamed over the landscape, taking in the vibrant contrast of the grass and sky. With a small nod she sighed, "Yes, I see the beauty here."

"Far from home," he said softly. "Very, very far from home..."

"Your home or mine?"

He looked over at her. "Both our homes," he replied before looking off in the distance again. "My home was cold, even the warm days had snow. We..." he paused and looked at her. "How do I say grow plants to eat?"

Venka cocked her head. "What do you mean 'grow plants'?"

"Keep plants to grow, the seeds," he replied. "Do the Upright People do this?"

She shook her head; the idea seemed completely alien to her. "How would you make the plant grow? How do you know what their spirits want?"

Davee leaned down and dug at the dirt, rolling it between his fingers and letting it fall to the ground between them. "Bad dirt, only grass grows here," he explained. Then he pointed to the distant trees. "Better dirt, bushes, trees, over there."

Venka's eyes fell to the spot where the dirt had fallen. How could dirt be good or bad? Dirt, to her, was simply there, and all the plants in the world came from it if their spirit was strong. Conditions and location had always determined where to find certain plants, which meant finding certain prey, but the very ground itself had never been considered. There was a certain logic to it, though, and she looked at him as he watched her think. Venka reached over and ruffled the fur on his head, feeling its softness beneath her claws.

"When we get to my village..." she trailed off and thought for a moment. Correcting herself, she continued, "When we get to our village, you must explain this magic to the Shaman."

Davee's sigh was barely audible over the rustle of grass. "This is not magic," he muttered. "I only have trouble explaining."

"Sometimes I think you do not like the idea of magic," she said with a scowl.

"I don't."

She waved his doubt away and pointed to the distant rocks. "That looks like a place where we can make camp. Save your shelter for another day."

"Our shelter," he corrected. "We are together."

Venka felt a stab of elation when he said that. Being alone for many, many days had quietly taken its toll on her, and she longed to range and hunt with someone else again. This wasn't the same as that, but just having company felt nice. She grinned at him with a slow nod.

"Yes, our shelter, so I say do not put my half up," she said. When he smiled, she couldn't help but giggle. "Will your half stay packed as well?" she asked.

He shook his head and stood up with a groan. "It doesn't work like that, Venka, so it has to stay packed," he explained, but he knew she was well aware already. "I like your idea, I can try your mushrooms."

***

Davee hadn't needed to do much to set up camp while she went and found a lone male tanchoka that had nearly leapt on top of her as it bounded across the rocks. The sudden appearance of the creature had sent her heart racing, adrenaline surging through her body. Running it down was effortlessly simple, and she snapped its neck with her powerful jaws even before they collapsed together; the sound of breaking bones echoing in the quiet landscape. The fortune of such a find filled her with profound glee, and she hummed a simple tune as she carefully clawed the hide off the carcass. With her hands bloody, she dressed it on the spot, tearing the body open from the hips to the neck with her powerful arms and strong grip.

Carefully, she attended to the entrails and bladder. As a reward for successfully breaking neither, she dug out the two orbs from between the legs, snapping them up into her mouth. The juicy, salty treats were reserved for the hunter who made the kill, and she purred with delight from the flavor, savoring the rich taste on her tongue. There was something else, though, and while removing the lungs, her eyes fell on it within the abdomen. Some livers were not safe to eat even for her, as the animals consumed deadly poisons as part of their diet, but these were not only safe but delectable. Humans, however, might become sick, and they were already going to experiment with one thing. How could they know which had made him sick if he ate both?

With this justification, Venka dove in without hesitation, her instincts overriding any lingering doubts.

Her tongue lapped at it before pulling it into her watering maw. She chewed and savored the velvet texture of the tanchoka's delicious liver, her tail wagging in the air behind her as she feasted. The metallic tang of blood mixed with the rich, earthy flavor of the organ. Soon, there was no more, and she came up for air, a pleased smirk crossing her lips dripping with blood. What she wanted to do next was devour the rest of him and sleep, but a huntress was only as good as what she brought back. So, she returned with it, and the intact pelt, the weight of her prize a satisfying burden.

Arriving at camp, the scent of her kill announced her presence before she was seen. Davee cooked a few large cuts without a single word about her appearance before she washed it away.

***

When the meal was ready, Venka sensed Davee's apprehension from his side of the fire as he nibbled a small portion before moving on to the known safety of the meat. The crackling of the fire and the sizzle of cooking meat filled the air. Armed with knowledge of its taste, he had somehow outdone the first time she tried his attempt at stirring the cubes and flakes in the fat, and she didn't pause for good manners as she devoured her large share. The rich, savory flavors danced on her tongue, each bite more satisfying than the last. Afterward, her belly visibly bulged out, at least as much as it could through her tight and powerful muscles, and she had to sit with her knees up and legs apart to relax comfortably.

"Good?" he asked as he chewed.

Venka grinned and trilled a happy response, the sound vibrating in her chest. "That was the best meal I have ever eaten, Davee," she purred.

"I made a lot as a reward for getting us through all of..." he trailed off and motioned to the southern direction, "what that was."

She chuckled. "Sweet Davee, you charm me with your words," she replied, giving him a lazy glance before closing her eyes. "A few males of my tribe could learn from you, I think."

"I'm only," he paused to a poorly hidden belch, "sorry... I'm only doing what I think is right."

"Hmmph! My words are even more true," she retorted. "These days we have spent together would have been much harder without you."

"They would've been easier without me too, Venka," he reminded.

Opening her eyes, she shook her head. "No, I do not think so. We move much slower than I would normally prefer, but having you and... all of this... is more than worth that trade. My people are safer because we are the hunted ones! Would they waste so much on just me? I think not."

"I am not this important," he replied, looking at her with mock doubt.

Venka laughed and laid her head against the rock. "They smell that you are male and maybe think we are trying to catch up to the rest," she replied, imagining the situation in her mind. "They know we do not let our males wander far, so where there is one there are bound to be more."

Davee nodded. "This makes sense, but I do not like to be... What's the word?"

"Bait?"

"Yes, bait," he mumbled before taking another bite. After chewing for a bit, he asked, "Can I tell you something?"

"You can tell me whatever you like, Davee," she replied automatically. "I consider us to be friends."

"Now who charms," he laughed, but then his expression grew serious. "Where I come from, if you help someone without expecting anything back, you are owed two more over. I owe you two lives, Venka. I want you to understand I will pay you back someday."

A shiver ran down her spine as she watched the fire dancing in the reflection of his alien eyes. They seemed to glow, not just from the light, but with calculated purpose. Males were expected to be more clever than their females, the thinkers and considerers of the relationship, but he had something much deeper than that, something that she felt was a distinctly feminine quality. Davee had an unfathomable depth of reason and logic that she sometimes forgot about, but when he inevitably reminded her that it was there, she was drawn to him like a cold body toward a hearth. When he looked at her like that, she felt a girlish, primal excitement that stole the air from her chest. Venka looked away and breathed with a shake of her head.

"No, you only owe me one," she murmured. "You repaid the first, I would have stayed and fought at the camp if I did not have you to protect. I am fine with saying we are even, sweet Davee, if you are fine with simply traveling with me."

He said nothing. Instead, he stood up and walked over to her, sitting down next to her large figure and allowing her arm to pull him even closer. After resisting for a few moments, he laid his head on her shoulder and sighed, her claws automatically stroking the back of his head while she smiled at him.

"I like this," she said softly. "My people are very..." she looked off into the distance to think of the appropriate word, "let us say that my people enjoy touching a lot. Embraces, stroking your furs, being near you, it is not proper for a male and female to do this if not mated, but I will keep this secret for myself. I know you enjoy it too."

"I do not want to become a burden," he replied.

Venka laughed, the sound rich and full. "You forget, sweet Davee, that our first night together I held you in front of the fire to keep you safe and warm."

"I was asleep from cold sickness," he muttered, shifting slightly against her. "Of course I forgot, I was not awake."

"What is cold sickness?" she asked.

Davee shrugged. "I don't know enough of your words," he softly said, reaching out to pick up her opposite hand to idly play with her claws. "Cold sleep makes the body stop."

"What for?"

"Keeps the body alive for a long time. I do not know how long I slept, I only know that my friends did not live."

"None of the other hollow beds saved the one who slept inside," she sighed, remembering the red-haired female that was cold and still. "I noticed the magic torch above them shined red and then not, over and over, and this told me the sleeper would never wake. Yours was green."

"You're really smart, Venka," he said, looking up at her. "I like—" Davee groaned as he put his hands to his midsection.

Venka sat up and looked at him, immediately recognizing he was in more severe pain than he had let on. When his eyes met hers, she could see that he had been hiding a growing discomfort that had become something horrid. Finding his hard shell waterskin, she brought it to his lips and encouraged him to drink as she squatted in front of him, his skin starting to become moist. The acrid scent of illness began to fill the air.

"I think the mushrooms were a mistake," he said between quickened breaths.

***

Venka was beside herself with worry, thrust suddenly into a shamanistic role as Davee's body contorted in another awful retch that produced nothing—everything within him was already in a puddle by the fire. As she cradled him, his skin was slick and clammy, shivering as he entered another horrid spasm that seemed to last an eternity before he collapsed against her. Davee had stopped speaking to her and then stopped speaking entirely, mumbling incoherently, his eyes tracking invisible phantoms. She remembered a sickness like this from her youth and brewed tea from the gola flower to soothe his stabbing pains. She had seen a large patch outside, their pale petals gleaming in the moonlight.

Only much later, after several doses, did she realize that the tea might also be a poison.

Yet he seemed to improve, no longer vomiting. The moons had shifted in the sky, marking the passage of time. Venka still held him, but as the fire dwindled, she was drawn more and more to the comfort of their bed. By then, he had grown silent, too exhausted even to moan, and her own weariness began to overwhelm her. His skin had turned cool to the touch, so she stripped off his soaked clothes and placed his shuddering body on top of hers, hoping to share her warmth. The sound of his labored breathing filled the night air.

All she needed was to sleep for a little bit...

***

Something woke her.

The patter of raindrops on leaves reached her ears before she fully regained consciousness. She looked down at the body on top of her, relieved to see his chest still rising and falling beneath the blankets. Davee moaned something incoherent and tried to get up, but the sound of the rain drowned out his words.

A shimmering curtain of water separated the dry cave from the storm outside, and she felt a surge of satisfaction for suggesting they sleep under this natural shelter. In the distance, the grasslands seemed to be flooding, though she guessed it was just an illusion. As he stirred, she realized he was struggling to do something beneath the covers, and she helped them both up. Davee, still delirious, fumbled with the clothing protecting his modesty.

Whispering a prayer to the Goddess, she hoped he was not about to defecate. Warily, she guided him to the waterfall of rainwater, holding him upright as she helped pull the clothing down, averting her eyes. The stench of his urine hit her, overpowering even in the rain. Glancing at the stream, she saw it was darker than it should have been, almost as brown as her stripes, though she didn't know what that signified. The pallor of his wet skin, however, filled her with dread—the scent on his hide was one of death.

When he finished, she kept her eyes averted as she pulled the cloth back up and carried him back to their makeshift bed. He needed rest, but she knew he also needed nourishment. The tea had settled his belly, so perhaps it could help keep him alive, or at least bolster his strength. Strength came from meat, but she was already brewing more tea...

Venka's eyes fell on the hide. Cursing her luck, she stretched it between some rocks and poured fresh rainwater over the fat before tossing in the rocks to bring it to a foaming boil before throwing in the meat. Once she was satisfied that all the flavor and goodness had been extracted from the tanchoka cuts, she removed them and ate the bland chunks while the broth stewed.

Feeding him the contents of the makeshift pot was a challenge, but after many cups brought to his lips, he had consumed most of the remainder. Venka poured the rest down her throat with a sigh, the warm liquid soothing her parched throat.

She had one more task.

***

With the last of the meat smoked, Venka knew they could not rest any longer. The Low People were near, she could feel it, and there was only one way to move both him and all the things they needed for another camp. For now, she would not have her clever human to help, she would rely on her own skills to carry them both. As she squatted, staring out into the rain, her eyes flashed with predatory determination. She glanced at his exhausted face, stroked his head with her claws, and then dug through his pack to arm herself for the task ahead.

Ignoring the downpour, she set out for the nearest strand of trees, withdrawing the large blade he never seemed to use. The cold rain pelted her scales, but she barely noticed, focused entirely on her mission. Shaped like her own flint knife, it had a straight edge that ended in a sharp turn and curved slightly before coming to a point in line with the flat back edge. Covered in black paint, the handle was made of a material that scored under her claws but provided a good grip in her callused hands. When she found the first juvenile tree, one she did not recognize, she tested it by forcing her weight against it until it began to bend. As thick as Davee's wrist, she looked up the length and determined that she needed only this one for her project.

Venka stabbed at the bark as she would with a rock. Eventually, she whittled a hole into the stringy wood, then a full cut, until the tree began to sway with each firm stab. Placing a stone into the recess, she grabbed the tree and threw all her weight against it to pull up and over the cutting stone. When it came down with a small crunch, she let it bounce to the wet grass before repeating the process in the midsection. Perhaps a claw's width of the sun, fully hidden by the storm, had passed by the time she had finished creating two poles of equal length.

The knife proved excellent for stripping the bark. As she worked, the sappy smell of the wood filled her nostrils, exactly the kind of wood she needed, making a sly smirk cross her parted lips as she panted from the effort. Before heading back, she found a few saplings no thicker than the human's thumb and ripped them out of the ground with a muffled snap. Their little branches and leaves were useless, so she scoured them off her fistful of tiny trunks and looped them through her bag's strap twice, so they sat flat against her muscular back.

Gathering up the two poles and the remainder from the ground, she heaved them over her shoulder and walked back.

Davee was still asleep; to her relief, he was still breathing. She stripped her clothes, tossed them against a warm rock, and suspended the poles above the fire before settling her weight against them, letting her naked body dry next to the fire as the poles heated and became pliable. When she had the shape she wanted, she stuck the ends into the dirt and placed a rock there to keep them in place.

Staring down at her pile of materials, she mentally mapped out the task ahead before sighing and sitting down next to the male. Her eyes darted from him to the bent poles, which began to steam from the heat, their sap bubbling out with a menacing hiss and flowing to the ends. Venka stood up and used the exotic cooking pot that had almost killed the human, scouring it first with dirt and ash, to collect the bubbling sap after readjusting the poles to get a bend that was slightly curved and then sharp. Due to the heat, she had to use the very tips of her claws and only for small moments, but the task was soon complete.

Venka gathered the largest rocks she could find and arranged them before collecting the sticky, scalding hot poles and nudged the rocks to complete the bend and lock it into place. After that, she squatted next to the fire and relaxed, letting the warmth play over her bare scales as she stirred a stick into the reducing sap.

The steady rhythm of the rain outside and Davee's shallow breathing filled the cave as Venka settled in for the night, her mind already planning their next move.

Tomorrow, she thought as her eyes opened and looked at the human, tomorrow I will take you away from here.