He searched her face for a moment and his expression softened again. “If this is a human way of being gracious”—he inclined his head, a little guardedly—“I thank you for it.”
“Well—” Summer cleared her throat. “I guess . . . you’re welcome.”
He swung a pack—the tiniest of them—off from his shoulder and offered the strap to her. “You may take this one.”
It was a water pouch, smaller than her J.Crew leather handbag, and Summer bit the inside of her cheek to keep back a smile.
“Sure.” It was lighter than her bag—usually crammed full of crap—was too. “Happy to.”
He set down the rest of the packs, sending a quick glance about. “Was there any difficulty during my absence?”
“Nope. Just me, sitting on a rock, with a flashlight, in a cave.”
“This is not the foresting I hoped to provide you.” Ke’lar gave her a wry smile. “It was to be starlight and roasting meat, not cavern walls and emergency supplies.”
“Oh, I really wish you hadn’t said ‘roasting meat.’” Summer mock-sighed. “I’m starving.”
“I will have a meal prepared for you shortly.” He sat on his heels, already increasing the speed of his organizing and unpacking. “But I must assemble the shelter first.”
“You’re going to set up the shelter in here?” Summer indicated the cavern ceiling and walls. “What for? We’ve got a roof and walls. We really don’t need it.”
“It will be easier keep a smaller insulated space warm than a large one that will leak heat.” He glanced at her. “I think you would prefer warmth to the chill of a cavern.”
“Well, you’re right about that.” She studied him for a moment as he laid out the equipment and supplies with practiced movements. “Need any help?”
“I am more than capable of accomplishing this task,” he said without looking up.
“I did it again, didn’t I?”
Now he did look at her, his glowing eyes puzzled. “Did what?”
“Offended you.”
“Yes,” he growled shortly, two of the shelter’s thin supports held in his strong hands. “One of a warrior’s tasks is to quickly”—he connected the supports to each other—“provide protection and shelter for those under his care."
“Again—” Summer retook her place on the rock, since it looked like she would just get in the way if she tried to jump in and help. “I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to show some camaraderie, show that I’m part of the team.”
His vibrant gaze met hers. “This is how humans create affiliation outside one’s clan?”
She gave a half shrug. “I guess you could say that. You know, lend a helping hand—raise a barn, join in a taffy pull, give somebody stranded with a dead battery a jump-start. Humans like cooperating for a common goal.”
“That is true of g’hir as well. It is the bedrock of our enclosures.” His glance quickly went over the pieces of the shelter he had already laid out. “Those two,” he said with a wave at the thin metal supports near her feet. “Connect them.”
“Uh, okay . . .” It took her a while fiddling at it. He probably could have had the whole shelter built in the time it took her to get them connected. “How’s that?”
“Adequate,” he rumbled, holding his hand out for it.
“Never had a lesson in my life.” At his baffled look she gave a laugh. “I was joking.”
He offered a polite smile, though of course he wouldn’t have heard that before.
“How long did it take you to learn to do all this?” she asked. “Be a warrior, I mean.”
“Too long,” he rumbled with a huffed laugh of his own. “Training begins in the form of play as soon as a male child can walk but he is not named a warrior until he has hunted for himself for a year. I began my year when I was seventeen summers.”
“But you just have to feed yourself?”
“It is not as simple as it sounds, to feed oneself, to survive only on your own skills for an entire year,” he said wryly. “Nor as easy.”
“Why would you even do that?” she asked. “G’hir technology is tons more advanced than humans’. You can open wormholes in space and jump between solar systems in the blink of an eye. I saw a Betari warrior gored by a tarn come back from the medical center at Be’lyn City the very next day walking around like nothing had happened. You have medical knowledge that’s astounding.” She shook her head. “You wouldn’t catch me spending a year alone in the wilderness, and my culture is centuries behind yours.”
He gave a faint smile. “Females need not earn the right to have a mate in any case, only males must.”
“Decree from the All Mother, right? Ar’ar said something like that. Not,” she added, thinking of that first terrifying day of captivity on his ship, “that I was paying much attention at the time.”
He stood and it looked like that was all the help he was interested in getting from her since he seemed intent on assembling the shelter alone now.