by Dixon, Ruby
I cannot lose Har-loh like I lost my father. I cannot go back to having no one at all. Har-loh is everything to me. She showed me how to kiss, and how to put a kit inside her. She showed me how to wash. She smiles at me and she is teaching me words. I have never been so happy as I am now, with Har-loh at my side. It scares me, a little. I know of too many nights when I woke up and there was no one to talk to, no one to give me food when I was hungry. Too many times I was sad and alone, missing my father.
I will not let my Har-loh be sad and alone. With that thought racing through my mind, I pick up another crawler, crack the hard shell open, and offer it to my mate. "Eat."
* * *
After we eat our fill, Har-loh makes noises that she wishes to leave the cave. It is safest for her inside, but if she wishes to see the great salt water, I will not deny her. It is a fascinating thing to look at, and I find the constant roar of the waves soothing. I watch as my mate puts on all the furs, covering her speckled skin, and then smiles at me. "Reddytewgoh."
I grunt and wait for her to leave the cave. I plan on staying at her side for as long as possible. Har-loh is clever about a great many things, but she is not as hardy as she should be. She is delicate and fragile, and I will not have her hurt.
When she emerges from the cave, she reaches for my hand. I wait, wondering if she has something to show me, but all she does is hold my hand. At my baffled look, she just chuckles and reaches up to touch my face with her other hand. "Snew to yewissit?" But she gives my hand a squeeze and does not let go, then tugs me along, indicating I should follow her.
I do. I would follow her anywhere.
Har-loh talks in her happy voice as we walk on the beach, but I do not know the things she says. I am content to listen to her babble and to walk at her side, drinking in her scent and watching her movements. Her bright mane tangles in the breeze and she pushes it behind her small ears constantly, but she never stops talking. She does not let go of me, either, and I decide I like the warm press of her hand clutching at mine. Does she hold on to me so I will not leave her side?
As if I would ever leave her behind.
My mate crouches and picks up something from the sand. It is a hard shell, one that comes from a creature with many legs. "Takedis wif us," she says to me, holding it out.
She wants me to look at it? I lift it to my nose and sniff it, but the creature inside is long gone. I examine it for a moment, and then toss it back to the ground.
"No!" Har-loh cries, letting go of my hand. She picks the thing up, and the look on her face is sad when she picks up the two broken pieces of it. "Rukh, no."
"No?" I do not understand. I make the gesture for food, confused. Is she hungry? "Eat? Har-loh eat?"
"No," she says again, a little more calmly. There is frustration on her face as she pushes the two pieces together again. "Couldabeen playt." She looks up at me. "Needta mayk a home."
I stare at her, trying to understand. I hate that I do not have the mouth sounds like she does. I want to tell her how lovely she is. How looking at her makes me happier than a full belly. How when I wake up in the morning and she is at my side, there is such joy in my heart that it makes me ache all over. That I love the speckles on her face as much as I love the little sounds she makes when I am putting my cock inside her. I want to say so many things to her.
But the words I have are very small. "Har-loh…repeat?"
The look on her face turns soft, and she moves forward, pressing her teats to my chest. She tilts her head back and lifts her face to mine like she does when she wants to push her mouth against mine in a “kiss.” I lean down and give her one, and she smiles up at me. "Home," she tells me. "Har-loh Rukh mayk home."
"Home," I echo, then point at the broken shell. "Home?"
She chuckles and shakes her head, tugging on my hand again. "Home," she repeats, leading me away from the water's edge. She pulls me along after her, returning to the cave we slept in last night. Then she turns and gestures at me. "Rukh Har-loh home."
She's…tired? I try to grasp what she is saying. Does she wish to sleep? I motion to go inside, but she shakes her head again. Frustration flashes through her gaze and she gestures at the entirety of the small cave. "Home…sew wekkan haf home fur behbeh." She pats her flat stomach. "Kit."
I touch her stomach, trying to understand. Is her kit coming now?
Har-loh shakes her head again. She purses her lips, thinking. "Rukh, Har-loh, kit." She pauses and gestures at the fire pit. "Fire. Furs. Cave." She makes a big circling gesture with her hand and looks at me again. "Home."
I frown, trying to follow. All these things are this word? Both of us, our kit, the furs, the shell she wished to keep…and then realization strikes me. I have seen animals make a nest for their young. Does Har-loh wish to make a nest? I put a hand to her belly. "Home… Har-loh Rukh kit home?"
She nods excitedly. "Dinkyew gottit, behbeh."
"Home," I repeat to myself. A nest. A safe place for my mate and I to have our kit. It should be comfortable, and safe. I think of the distressed sounds she made this morning when the crawlers were on her boots. I look at the small cave, tinier than the one I left behind in the mountains and not nearly as comfortable. This will not do.
My Har-loh and my kit deserve a better nest than this.
I take my mate's hand. "Home," I say again, and tug her along with me. This beach is full of small caves of varying sizes. We will find a better one for our nest and then Har-loh will be happy. I will make a home for my family, and we will be together, always.
15
HARLOW
We need so many things.
As we go up and down the beach, I gather everything that might be useful. Shells big enough to work as utensils or plates, reeds that can be dried and woven into baskets, stones that work well for cooking—everything can be repurposed. It doesn't take long to fill my bag, and as we drop off our findings, I realize just how much we need. We need stones to surround the fire pit. We need utensils and cooking tools. We need furs for clothing and boots and warm blankets.
We need a bigger cave.
I chew on my lip, trying not to fret over everything. I'm a worrier, it's just who I am. I'm sure being diagnosed with cancer influenced that. My cancer's in remission now, though, thanks to my khui. I can afford to look on the bright side of things.
And I've got Rukh at my side. Whatever it is I need, he'll help me get because he adores me as much as I adore him.
So I eye our small cave and then turn to my mate. "We need a bigger place."
He frowns. "Repeat, Har-loh?"
"Small," I say, gesturing at the cave. "It's too small." I tap on the low ceiling, which he has to crouch under. "Small. We want big." I spread my hands. "Big cave."
Recognition dawns across his face. He takes my hand, gesturing farther down the beach.
I get excited. "Is there another cave? You know of one?" I shouldn't be surprised. The mountains here are positively honeycombed with caves and fissures everywhere. I'm no scientist, but I can't help but think it has something to do with all the hot springs everywhere. Whatever the reason, I'm glad for it. We can make the tiny cave work, but I'd much rather have someplace where we can stretch out and enjoy ourselves if this is going to be our new home.
We hike across the beach, Rukh holding my hand tightly even when it's inconvenient. It's like he doesn't want to let me go. I don't mind. I'm happy to be held onto. We scramble across rocks and move to the far end of the cove. We're a short distance from the tall cliffs, but not so far that it'll be an all-day hike to get into the snowy hills where the animals with fur tend to hang out. I haven't seen anything furry wander across the beach. I don't know if we're scaring them off or if they just don't come down here. There's been a few big, fearsome-looking birds—ostriches with anger issues, I like to think of them—that we avoid. Mostly though, it's just crabs and things like that.
Feels weird to be on a beach and not hear the constant cries of seagulls.
&
nbsp; Just when I'm ready to take a break because it feels as if we've crossed the entire beach, Rukh heads toward a rocky outcrop. Farther back, I can see a few blind canyons framed by rock, but he doesn't head toward them. He heads to the outcrop and it takes a moment, but then I see the entrance to the cave.
It's a large one, all right. Even from here, I can tell that the ceiling is tall enough for Rukh to stand fully, without his horns scraping against the ceiling. I glance around. We're in the most protected part of the cove here, with the waves a short distance away, but not so close that we have to worry about tides. The interior isn't extremely deep, but it's spacious, with a shallow front chamber studded with stalactites and then a deeper inner chamber that's large and roomy. It's a little messy—there's a layer of grit all over the floor and what look like dead crab shells along the walls, but cleaning is easy enough.
Best of all, there's a trickle of water gliding into a tiny pool near the front. It looks like it's coming straight from the stone, which means it's fresh water, not salt water. I catch a few drops on my fingers and taste it. Yup. Fresh and cold.
I turn to look at Rukh. He's watching me with a guarded expression, as if he's worried I won't like the place. I suspect that if I told him it was terrible, he'd keep on searching until he found me something better, even if it took years. That's just who he is. He wants the best for me, even if it means far more work.
I move to him and take his hands. "It's perfect." I beam at him. "This is a very good cave. We can make our family here."
"Yes?" he asks.
"Yes," I agree, squeezing his hands. "A very big yes!"
RUKH
My mate never stops working, even in the new cave. We bring our small pile of possessions over to our new spot, and Har-loh works on sweeping out all of the dead things and the sand on the floor. It is not an easy task, but when everything is finally clean and all the debris gone, we gather rocks and make a fire pit near the entrance, so the smoke has a place to leave. Har-loh makes a nest with the furs she wears, but I notice that she shivers when she peels them off.
We need more furs, I realize. Some for wearing and some for sleeping. We will have to hunt together, and that worries me. Har-loh is a soft creature, and hunting is hard work. The mountains are not too far of a walk, but I would rather her be safe and comfortable here in the cave. Perhaps I can go out and hunt while she stays here.
I do not like the idea, but I also do not like the idea of taking my mate with me on a dangerous hunt. Many of the animals in the snows have long claws and sharp fangs, and Har-loh's spotted flesh would tear easily. It will gut me to be apart from her for a day, but it will be necessary.
Har-loh must be kept warm, and this beach does not have fur.
It is a worry for another day, though. Har-loh looks tired, her pale face drawn as we sit near the fire. I tug her closer to me and she leans on my shoulder. I like this, my mate pressed against my side. She wraps her arms around me, shivering, and I worry she is too cold. I am a bad mate, letting my female shiver inside a cave when we could be wearing furs.
Tomorrow, then, I decide. In the morning, when the sun is up, we will go hunting for furs. I finger one of the ones she wears and nudge her. "Har-loh, repeat?"
"Mmm?" She sits up, giving me a curious look, and when I say the words again, she understands. "Fur?"
"Fffhuuurr," I echo, trying to memorize the word. "Har-loh fur. Yes?"
"Harlow's fur?" She says the words, a question on her face.
"Har-loh, fur." I wish I had the words to tell her I will hunt her many animals tomorrow. That I will not rest until she has warm skins to drape her body in. She is mine to protect, and I will not have her shivering.
"Fur?" my mate repeats again and then takes my hand in hers. She guides it between her thighs, over the patch of fur she has on her mound. "Yes?"
There is a sultry note in her voice that I missed hearing before. She thinks I am asking to touch her, that I want to claim her. My frustration at not being able to communicate fades, because I do want to touch her. Touching my mate and making her feel good is still new and exciting. I lean toward her, brushing my mouth over hers in a kiss, because I know she likes those.
Har-loh sighs and nudges her mouth against mine, even as her thighs slide apart.
I groan low in my throat. How did I get so lucky as to have this mate? After so many seasons alone, it is astonishing to me that I have a mate to touch and to care for. That we will have a kit of our own. That we will be a family.
That she is mine and I am not alone.
"Har-loh," I breathe against her soft lips, even as I seek out the nub nestled in the folds of her cunt. She has shown me how she likes to be touched, and every time, I get a little better at such things. I am learning what pleases her most, what caresses make her body tighten and which ones make her cry out. Our mouths meet, my tongue lightly flicking against hers as I slide my fingers up and down her wet channel. I push one deep inside her, into the hot well of her cunt, and use my thumb to make circles around the little bud of flesh called a “clit.”
She whimpers and clings to me, her thighs tightening around my hand. "Rukh," she pants, and her cunt squeezes me tight. "Feelsoguhd."
I stroke into her, using my fingers like I would my cock, driving into the softness of her body even as I work her clit. I love watching the pleasure build through her. She gasps, rocking against me, and then her movements become more frantic. Hurried. Her cunt grows wetter with every stroke of my fingers inside her, and she presses her forehead to mine, straddling me as I work her soft body with my hand. I need to watch her come. There is no sight I like better than when she climaxes, the tension on her face giving way to such languid pleasure. I love the way she hums afterward when her body relaxes. I am fascinated by everything, and if I could, I would be mounted atop her all day long, watching the pleasure come over her face.
She kisses me hungrily, making soft noises in her throat as she pumps her hips, determined to come. I hold her against me, pulling her in, and when one of her teats bounces enticingly near my mouth, I duck my head and lick the tip.
Har-loh cries out, her hands on my horns. I feel her press her cheek against one as she grips them tight, her movements faster and faster.
My cock aches with need, the tip leaking fluid down my shaft, and I want nothing more than to rub it against her. Or inside her. I want her to come first, though. I like the sight of her release even more than I like my own. I tease the tip of her nipple with my tongue, licking it and then sucking on the small bud. Sometimes she likes my teeth, so I add them too, but gently, gently.
Her tight cunt squeezes my fingers. Har-loh's body trembles against me, and then she's panting, a small whine in her throat. She stiffens, and then moisture floods my hand and her release quakes through her.
I hold her against me, running my mouth over her soft, speckled skin as she comes down from her climax. She hums softly when she relaxes, and then begins to press kisses along my jaw and my neck. "Ur tuhrn behbeh." Her words are nonsense, but her tone is clear. I made her feel good. I rumble with satisfaction, rubbing her flanks. She slides a leg over my hips and straddles my cock, then presses another kiss to my mouth. "Gunnaride yew."
"Repeat," I rasp, desperately wanting to understand what my mate is telling me.
But she only gives me a sly smile and rubs her wet cunt up and down my shaft. When I groan, she leans in to lightly kiss my mouth and then settles back. Her fingers stroke my cock as she holds me steady…
And slowly seats herself upon my length.
I do not dare move.
Never have I imagined such a thing. Mating is still new to me. My Har-loh had to show me how to put my cock inside her. I had the desire, but I did not have the knowledge. Ever since then, we have been ravenous for one another, and Har-loh constantly shows me new ways to pleasure her. I have taken her while she is on her back, and I have taken her from behind, like the animals do. Her straddling me and feeding my cock into her body…is
new.
And I like it.
I groan with pleasure as she wriggles atop me, her body taking my entire length. She pants, her gaze locked on me, her hands tight on my arms. "Rukh." She breathes my name as if it brings her joy just to say it. Then, as we watch each other, she raises her hips slowly and then seats herself upon me again.
Nothing has ever felt better.
My seed threatens to spill forth quickly, but I want this moment to last. I am fascinated by the sight of her riding me, of my cock disappearing into her body. I grip her hips and guide her up and down, faster and faster until she's whimpering once more, my name breathless on her lips. I grit my teeth, determined to last until she clenches over me again. I have learned that if I do things just right, Har-loh will climax twice, and it is my new goal to do this every time.
She cries out, throwing her head back, and her nails dig into my arms as she rides me faster and harder. Despite my intentions of taking my time, I cannot. This is too good, my mate too beautiful, her cunt too tight and wet and perfect. The moment I feel her clench tight around me and she makes a gaspy sound in her throat, I come. My release explodes out of me and I clutch her tightly against my chest as my seed spills into her heat and her body quakes over mine.
Nothing feels better than this. Nothing.
Moments pass. Har-loh hums in her throat, smoothing my mane back from my face. The strands of my mane are sticking to her skin as well as mine, and she makes noises in her throat, talking. I cannot follow her words, but I like her happy sounds. I hold her against me, stroking her soft skin.
I have never been so happy. Having Har-loh is…I do not know the words. I only know my heart is so full that sometimes it hurts in my chest.
She murmurs something and then pulls a fur over both of us. I arrange it, making sure to cover my mate, because she is the one that is always chilled. Har-loh smiles at me and then tucks herself against my chest, talking softly. Her cunt still clasps my cock deep inside her, and I can feel every quiver of her body. I like this.