He rubs my belly and then presses a kiss to my nose. “Then I must go out and do my share.”
“I don’t want you to leave!”
“I will be back in time for Megol to smile his way into the world,” he says with a mischievous grin on his face.
I groan. I love this man, but he is terrible with names. “We are not naming the baby Megol. I told you. It makes me think of Gollum.”
“It is a fine name,” he chides me, but there’s amusement in his voice. “Very strong and brave.”
I just snort-giggle. “Not gonna happen.”
“Then, Holmeg it is. We have decided. It is most pleasing for a son’s name.”
Even though I’ve heard this joke a hundred times over the last twelve or fourteen months or so, it’s never not funny. I’m giggling and shaking my head. “Absolutely not. Our baby is going to have a nice name. And it might be a girl.”
“It is a boy,” he insists. “Strong with a mighty spear like his father.” And he wiggles his hard, ridged brow at me in another human gesture he’s picked up, and I know he’s not talking about spear-weapons. Which only makes me laugh harder.
By the time I dunk my head to rinse it, I’m not even upset anymore. That’s why Cashol’s so good for me - he makes me forget all the terrible things in life for a while.
2
CASHOL
My Meh-gan is not happy. It tears at me, even as I do my best to make her smile. There is worry behind her eyes, and I want nothing more than to take it from her.
Instead, I distract her. I tease her about names for our kit. I hold the bone rings that she uses for weaving her leather strips and talk endlessly while she works. I bribe some of the sweet root cakes from Pashov’s Stay-cee and bring them to my Meh-gan to see her smile. She does for me, but it quickly fades.
She worries. I know she does. She has told me about her past before - that she had a pleasure-mate - a boy-friend as she calls it - who abandoned her. Then she was pregnant with a kit when taken by the strange creatures that brought her here. They took it from her.
She worries that if she loves too deeply, it will be taken from her again.
I understand this; I lost my father in the khui-sickness many years ago. I know the burden of grief, and so even though hearing of the pleasure-mate and kit that she lost fills me with an unhappy jealousy, I understand how they affect her.
Mostly, I just want her to smile again.
Meh-gan works busily all day on her leather-strap rugs she makes. The other females like them as well, and so she is working on several at once. We eat stew that Leezh has made, because Meh-gan is tired easily and I did not leave the cave to hunt for dinner. Not today. I will be leaving soon enough. Today will be a day to dote on my mate and discuss her fears.
When she picks up another one of the half-finished leather rugs and begins to work on it, I pry it out of her hands. “You are tired. Come lie down in the furs.”
Meh-gan rubs her face. “I promised Claire I’d make her a rug, too, and—“
“Tomorrow,” I tell her, and pull it out of her grasp when she reaches for it again. “There is always another day to work.”
She nods slowly and then sniffs. Her hand swipes at her pale cheek, and her lip trembles.
My heart feels as if it is crumbling inside my chest. “My resonance,” I murmur, pulling her small form into my arms and tucking her against me. “It is just a rug.”
Her tears turn to a muffled giggle and she swats at my arm. “You know why I’m crying, you big goof.”
I smooth the tears from her face and do my best to make her smile again. “Goof - that is an excellent name for our kit. Very majestic.”
“Oh my God,” she says, and shakes her head against my chest. “Do not even get me started, you crazy alien.” Meh-gan sniffs. “And I’m crying because you’re going to leave me behind.”
“I must do this,” I say gently. “You and our little Goof must be fed when the snows become brutal.” The weather is pleasant now, but already Vektal and the hunters worry. I share in their worries, eating less when meals are passed around. Meh-gan gets the biggest portion, and I eat the scraps. There is no getting around it: the tribe must be fed, and as a strong male, I must do my part.
She nods, but the sad look on her face doesn’t ease.
I touch her chin and angle her small, strange human face up so she can look me in the eye. “My resonance, you know I would stay at your side and rub your feet all day long if you wished it. But I would rather that you had food to eat when the weather turns. And it will turn. Already this season is colder than last. The snows will be deeper this time, and so we must be ready.”
“I know I’m being ridiculous. I just…when you’re here by my side, my world is complete. If you leave, I’m going to feel lost and alone. I hate that feeling.” She touches her stomach. “And what if the baby - the kit - comes early?”