Ah. He is curious. Newly mated, I have no doubt that he worries things with Jo-see will adjust and he will not like the results. “We do not mate as often,” I tell him.
“No?” He looks up, brows drawn together.
“Only three times a day,” I say solemnly. “Maybe twice if my cock is tired.”
Something splats on my arm. It’s intestine. Filled. Disgusting. I look up and Haeden’s snarling at me.
I burst into laughter. “You are too serious, my friend.”
“And you joke too much.” He gives me another disgusted look and returns to butchering his kill. “I just…things are good right now. I do not wish for that to change.”
“It changes,” I tell him carefully, this time being truthful. “Everything always changes. It is unavoidable. Some of the intensity of resonance gets lost, but it is replaced by new things. Better things.” I sit back, wiping my hands clean of blood as I take a brief pause. Thoughts of Meh-gan fill my mind and I smile to myself. “I love to hear my mate’s laugh. I love to take care of her. I do not mind when she is tired, because then I will pull her against me and hold her all night. I live to please her, and when you feel your son kick in her belly…” I spread my hands, helpless to describe the joy of it. “Everything in the world is perfect.”
His jaw clenches and he gives a jerky nod after a moment. “Jo-see wants many kits. I…I just want her. Is it wrong that I do not care about the kits?”
“You will,” I assure him. “When you feel it move in her belly, you will know joy.”
He grunts. “I already know joy.”
“More joy,” I amend. “You will not feel jealous of the kit, if that is your worry. There will be room in your mate’s heart for both. Know this.” I pick up my blade again and glance up at the sky. It grows darker by the moment, and I can feel the air growing chilled. “It is her belly we should worry about at the moment.”
Haeden looks up and nods. “We must work faster.”
We have the last dressed, skinned carcass buried in the cache moments before the weather changes for the worse. One moment, it is snowing heavily. The next, the wind makes my hair icy, wet whips that flay at my skin and I can no longer see my hand in front of my face.
“To the cave,” Haeden bellows. I can barely hear him over the roar of the wind. I claw my hand into his backpack to keep hold of him - for his safety as well as my own - and head in the direction of the hunter cave. There is one not far, but it might be impossible to find in the storm.
The wind grows bitterly cold and I wrap my fur cape around my shoulders and neck. I picture Meh-gan back in the cave, her fragile human body pinkish-blue with chills. I am not there to bundle her in thicker furs, or to get her hot tea when she is cold and too distracted to take care of herself. I feel a pang of worry; someone will think of my mate and take care of her if the cold gets to be too much, surely. The fires must be kept warm and the humans protected, especially the sweet human that carries my son.
I am lost in thought and concern for my mate, blindly following Haeden forward through the knee-deep snow when the wind abruptly dies. I look up, pushing my thick furs away from my frozen mane to realize we are in the hunter cave. I have been so distracted that I did not realize.
Haeden shrugs my hand off and moves toward the back of the dark cave. “Start the fire. I will see what supplies we have.”
My fingers find the frozen thong at my neck. Meh-gan’s fire starter is there. I can make a fire without it, but I want to use it and be close to her. I pull Meh-gan’s necklace from my throat and find my firestarter kit in my pack. Within moments, I have a fire going and begin to feed it dried dung and fluff to coax it higher.
Haeden emerges from the recesses of the cave with a bone plate. He mutters something about the dark and scoops up a coal on the plate, blowing gently on it to make it flare hotter. Then he disappears back into the recess of the cave. I stoke the fire and then set up my tripod to melt some snow to drink. The wind is ripping through the cave, and I find the hide screen that can be used to block the worst of the snow. It’s coming off one side, the leather worn, and I spend a few moments re-stringing it around the heavy bone framework before pushing it in place against the cave entrance. It settles in and then beats like a drum against the wind, flapping in place. I ignore the noise and return to the fire.
This storm will likely last until morning. After that, we will be able to go out and continue hunting, provided the clouds clear. I remember Rokan’s warnings about the storms, and worry anew about my mate.
Haeden returns to the front of the cave a moment later, his coal gone. In its place, he has a bundle of supplies - cured hides, a bundle of dried wood, and a pouch of what is likely kah, the granular meat mix most hunters live off of when away from the cave. He dumps it all near the fire and gives me a sour look. “It seems we will be spending the night together.”