Sam
In the time I’ve been gone from the village, Hannah has got cooking for the tribe working like a well-oiled machine. It doesn’t seem to bother her that there are triple the number of mouths to feed, and when the raskarrans try to help with a bit too much enthusiasm, she doesn’t baulk like she used to. In fact, while she’s standing at the central fire, a spoon in her hand, it’s as though she’s chieftess of the village, not Liv.
I’m so happy for her. Happy that she’s come out of her shell, happy that the bracelet she has on her wrist is the colour that means she’s open to the idea of a mate, that she doesn’t mind being pursued. Happy that she’s found a sense of purpose that Mercenia would never have allowed her to have.
But I can’t help feeling a little like I’ve lost my place in the village. Lost my purpose. I’m adrift, returned from my time away from them, but still separated from them by their shared experiences over the rains, the bonds they’ve made with each other and the tribe. If I left a space behind when I went, they’ve grown to fill it. I no longer fit in the same way I did before.
So I sit a little way from the central fire, watching as Hannah cooks lunch for everyone, feeling a little… disconnected.
I know it’s just because I’ve been absent, that in a few days, I’ll have slotted back into the middle of everything, perhaps not resuming my place, but making myself a new one. But the weeks I’ve been gone – weeks that passed so quickly when I was with Dazzik – suddenly feel like a very long time. The person who I was back then and the person who I am now seem like two very different people.
“It’s tough, isn’t it?”
A body settles into the space next to me and I turn to see Sally, clutching little Marsal to her chest. The adorable little one has wild brown hair that sticks out at all angles, and eyes so big they seem to take up most of her face. She stares at me now, sucking on her thumb as she considers me. I can’t help reaching across, tickling her little cheek.
“When I first came to the village, I found it overwhelming,” Sally says, looking over at the fire and the girls gathered round it. “It had been just me and Jaskry, just me, Jaskry and the kids for so long. I’d forgotten how to engage with other adults. How to have interests outside of my family and keeping them safe.”
“I’ve only been gone a few weeks,” I say, not wanting to diminish her experience by relating it to my own. Sally had to cope on her own for ten years. My two months is nothing in comparison.
Sally just smiles. “That just means you’ll find your way back into the group quicker than I did. That you’ll feel comfortable here again quicker than I did. Isolation is hard, Sam. Don’t feel bad for finding it difficult coming out of it.”
She grips my arm, gives it a squeeze. Marsal takes her thumb out of her mouth, waving her little hands in my direction, as if she wants to comfort me too.
I go for a walk around the village, Sally’s words echoing in my ears. If I’m finding it hard to reconnect, to feel comfortable in the village, then it must be a hundred times worse for Dazzik. I’m not entirely sure how long ago he was outcast from his village. Less than ten years, I think, but he had to go through it entirely alone, with only the memory of his best friend for company in his dreams. I know he was apprehensive about how the raskarrans would react to him, but what about his reaction to them?
The raskarrans that aren’t busy hunting or on patrols are all occupied with the building work. There are several huts under construction at the edges of the village – new spaces for Walset and Darran’s brothers to live, so they aren’t all so on top of each other. The building sites are a bustle of activity, lead by Harton, who beams at the chaos all around him as if he couldn’t be happier.
I find Dazzik working on a hut roof, balanced on a ladder as he concentrates on weaving vines through sticks, locking them tight together, then stuffing the gaps with mosses that will grow and fill the places where rain might sneak through. It’s careful, delicate work, and I can see the intense concentration on his face.
Not wanting to disturb him while he’s working high up, I take a seat, settling in to wait for him to come down. The other raskarrans, however, have no qualms about disturbing him, and when they see that I’m sitting there, unnoticed, they collect up bits of twigs and small stones and throw them playfully at my mate until his attention is on them. I listen to the cheery way they address him, not understanding the words, but understanding their teasing tone well enough, as well as how Dazzik grins, hesitantly at first, then with enthusiasm.
He jumps down from his roof, coming to my side and sitting next to me.
“Your tribe brothers say that you are come to me because we cannot stay apart for long without being gripped by a burning need for each other.”
“Your tribe brothers as well,” I say, giving him a nudge. “And I do miss you when we aren’t together, but I can manage a few hours without your touch, thank you very much.”
Although, my pretence at primness is rather undermined by the flood of heat that pools in my core at the thought of him touching me, something I’m pretty sure Dazzik can sense, if the slow upwards curl of his lips is anything to go by.
“Does my linasha need me?” he asks, voice low and throaty, full of desire and promise.
I take a steadying breath.
“Actually, I came to see how you were doing,” I tell him. “Are you okay?”
Dazzik gives me a puzzled look. “I am well, linasha, why would I not be?”
I think about laughing it off, pretending at silliness, but the unease in me won’t shift, and if anyone is likely to understand, it’s Dazzik. So I tell him about my feeling adrift, how I feel disconnected from the tribe.
“Sally said that it’s hard to come back to a group after being on your own, even for a little while, and it just made me think how you’d been on your own for a long time, and I wondered if maybe you were having some of the same feelings?”
I realise I sound hopeful, and shake my head.
“I don’t mean to sound like I want that. I want you to be happy here…”
“But you want to know you are not alone in how you feel,” Dazzik says, taking my hand. “You wish for this to be something we go through together so you do not feel it is some fault in you.”
He always seems to know exactly what I’m thinking, even when I don’t know it well enough to put into coherent words.
“Yes,” I say. “Sorry, that probably makes me a terrible person.”
“Nothing about this is terrible, my little nightmare. I am glad that you would be comforted to know my feelings run similar to yours.”
“And do they?”
Dazzik draws my hand to his lips, brushes my knuckles with a gentle kiss.
“Of course this is difficult for me also,” he says. “Every word these new tribe brothers of mine speak to me I am questioning the true meaning of. They cannot say ‘hello’ without me looking for hidden meanings and feelings behind the word. And it is so loud, so many voices. I am grown unused to noise. It makes my headspace pound. But it gets easier every day, and so too will it for you, linasha.”
“I know that. I do know that.” I sigh. “I’m being silly. I just… The cooking was my thing, you know? And now it’s Hannah’s thing. And that’s great – she’s much better at it than I was. But now I don’t have a thing, and I feel like I need one, but I don’t know what it could be.”
As I take a breath to say more, Dazzik touches a finger to my lips. Anyone else, it would have been rude, but Dazzik does it with a warm, amused smile, and I know he’s not shutting me up because he doesn’t want to hear what I have to say.
“You are my linasha and will be mother to our youngling. You do not need more ‘thing’ than that,” he says, firm, a little bit commanding in a way that makes me feel all shivery and needy. “But if you desire more than just this, there are many things this tribe will need in the days to come. You will find a way to be useful to them, my Sam.”
“Yeah, I know I will.” I sigh, resting my forehead on his shoulder. A short distance from us, a group of raskarrans watches us, smirking at each other. I incline my head in their direction. “I think they think I’m begging you to take me back to our hut and have your way with me.”
Dazzik glances at them, then back at me. Then with a suddenness that startles a gasp out of me, he sweeps me up into his arms.
“I would not want them to think me the kind of mate who would deny his linasha what she needs,” he says as he carries me in the direction of our hut.
“Don’t you have work to finish?”
“There is always tomorrow, my little nightmare.”
The sound of good natured raskarran laughter follows after us. I grin.
Tuck my head against Dazzik’s chest.