“Ahh!”
I jump and cry out, quickly moving away from her and the hot cloth in her hand. Beh makes more noises and reaches out for me again. Her noises get louder as she shakes her hand toward me and points to my arm. She starts moving toward me, and I scramble back a bit before she latches onto my arm.
“Ehd…”
Her sounds become softer, and I find myself straining to hear them. As I lean forward to listen, Beh swipes at my arm with the cloth again. I flinch, but I’m more prepared for it this time. The heat from the water actually feels…nice. I relax and move back close to her as she wipes down my arm gently, rinses the cloth in the pot, and then runs it over my face.
It feels good when I’m expecting it.
Definitely better than the cold water at the lake.
I reach out and touch Beh’s thigh with the end of my finger, and she takes my hand and wraps it up in hers. Our eyes meet, and she gives me a small smile. I return it broadly, and even though I know I should not try to put a baby in her now—we need to go out and gather food, and I need to find some sand at the lake to finish Beh’s carving—I am sure she will want to when we return to the warmth of our furs when the sun sets.
That’s when I’ll give her my gift.
Beh finishes washing me and herself in the warm water from the pot, and we collect what we will need for the day’s work. The sun has made the day fairly warm, and we make good progress, collecting the rest of the grain from the field and the nutgrass from the edge of the forest. As we walk through the pine forest toward the lake, there are many pinecones filled with pine nuts that are ready to be gathered. Beh places several of them in the funny shaped reed basket she made when she first became my mate. I added a leather strap to the top of the basket so she can wear it around her neck to carry things.
The green pinecones are still in the trees, and Beh reaches up into the branches to pick them. I watch as she tries to jump and grab some that are out of her reach, but she can’t get to them. I come up behind her, delighted at her playful squeal as I grab her waist and lift her up high to gather the rest.
When she has picked enough to fill her basket, I slowly lower her down to the ground again. She turns to face me, but I keep my hands at her hips. She smiles up and me, and I look into her bright blue eyes, wondering what makes them sparkle even though we are in the deep shade of the forest where the sun doesn’t reach. I run my nose over her temple, up into her hair, and then down over the bridge of her nose.
Beh closes her eyes and sighs as she tightens her grip around my shoulders and lays her head against my chest. We are close enough that I can feel her heart beating through my furs. I lay my head on top of hers and just hold her for a moment.
Again, the sense of contentedness and completeness encompasses me.
She wraps her hand around mine as we continue our way to the lake. When we get there, she digs up more cattail roots and bulrushes. She still can’t weave anything that looks like a basket, but she keeps trying. We can still eat the roots and the end of the bulrush stems anyway.
While she does that, I sneak over near a sandy part of the lakeshore and turn my back to her. I pull out the little piece of fur that contains the wood carving with the three prongs I hope Beh will be able to use to get the tangles out of her hair. I pick up a handful of sand and rub it into the edge of the wood with the pads of my fingers. I glance at Beh frequently, not wanting her to be out of my sight for very long, but still work diligently on my task.
I want it to be done so I can give it to her as soon as possible. I never gave her a mating gift, and I want to give her this today so I can put a baby in her tonight.
Just the thought of it is enough to make me hard and leave me wanting to give Beh a baby even when I’m not looking over at her as she kneels next to the shore to pull out roots. When I look at her and see her backside raised in the air as she reaches out to pull up another handful of bulrushes, it takes every bit of control I have to stop myself from just rushing over to her and taking her now.
I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t like that.
The thought brings a lump to my throat and leaves me soft.
I rub vigorously at the carving, pleased at how smooth it is becoming. The rounded part where Beh can hold onto it is nice and soft to the touch, and the long parts don’t have any more rough spots around them to catch on her hair.