by Calista Skye
“I like your… thing,” I state and help him put it back in his pants.
“It likes you, too,” he says with a smirk.
We both realize that him eating me out is impractical here and now, and I’m fine with that. It would be embarrassing if the dragon came home right when I was in the middle of a screaming orgasm. Not to mention that it would probably mean our deaths.
Car’rakz leans back on the tree, still on his guard and looking in all directions, especially to the sky. He still makes me feel safe. Even more than before.
I steal some glances at his huge, muscular body and burned face. What would it be like to live with him like the lab coat girls live with their cavemen? They do seem happy. Not all the time, of course. They’re only human, and we all have our ups and downs. But the married girls seem to have fewer downs than the rest of us. And probably more ups. They’re calmer, in a way. More optimistic. They smile more, and they laugh more. They have little inside jokes with their husbands and can lean into a wide, muscular chest anytime they want to.
Car’rakz takes his sword out and starts silently sharpening it, still scanning our surroundings for dangers.
Yesterday, when I panicked, he could have gotten furious and berated me for giving away our presence to the dragon. It was extremely dangerous, what I did. But he didn’t. He just held me and comforted me. And it helped. Which other man I know would have done that?
What would it be like? To stay here on Xren, give up the dream of Earth and just bask in the love of a good man on a planet that certainly has its problems, but which still seems so much more wholesome and free than the thoroughly tamed Earth?
Big alien cock every night and every morning, his huge arms to fall asleep in and wake up in. His slow heartbeat close to me all night long. His sometimes teasing conversation, confidence, and competence. A companion, someone who understands and accepts me. The only man I’ve let penetrate me. A man to be proud of.
He catches me looking at him, and I’m sure my eyes must have visible stars in them. He just smiles back and keeps scanning around us for threats.
It’s a leisurely day, but when the sun goes low in the sky, I tense up. The dragon must be on its way home now.
Car’rakz must feel the same way, because he comes closer and kneels down beside me, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Not long now.”
19
- Car’rakz -
I feel a strong urge to be near Tamara. The dragon must be on its way here, and my blade will be right by Tamara’s side. I won’t be at full strength, because my legs still feel like soft twigs after the practice yesterday. But if the dragon tries something, I’ll do my best to kill it. Nobody and nothing gets close to my woman.
My woman?
She’s still here with me. Yes, the dragon is the reason, of course. If not for that, she would be back with her tribe now.
And yet, I don’t think she loathes me. Of course, she is an alien, and a woman to boot, so maybe she’s just hiding it. But she helped me practice in a way I would never have thought of myself, and it felt that she really wants me to improve. And still it feels like she really means it when she says that I make her feel safe. My chest swells every time she says that.
And the Mating. Would a woman Mate with a man if she felt contempt for him? That seems wrong, somehow.
I take in her soft, round shape. It seems impossible to believe that a creature like that can enjoy my company. Or even stand being around a ruined warrior like me, scared to death of irox.
I allow myself a moment of dreaming. Tamara and I, together in the jungle. I’d build a house for her. A nice one. The best house on Xren. I would hunt and keep her safe, she would do her alien woman things, and then we would Mate in the evenings. Or even in the mornings, like today. It would be the most blissful life I can imagine. Perhaps even… in my village? We could return my tribe to its former greatness!
The thought makes me heady, and I have to support myself on the tree.
Tamara turns her head and gives me a little smile. “Everything good, warrior?” she whispers.
“Yes,” I respond. “Everything good. Everything.”
20
- Tamara -
I sense the dragon before I see it. It’s a short burst of panic that makes me gasp, which then settles to a steady fear.
And there it is. It circles the cave once, thankfully never flying right over us. It’s very large, at least three times the size of Troga. Its neck is long and slender, its wings stubby and thin. The head is small and very beautiful, and I can feel I might fall into a trance if I keep looking.
I use a trick we dragon girls discovered with Troga, who had the same effect: if you put one hand over one eye and just look at the beast with the other, you don’t get hypnotized.
So I do that, and the pleasant trance-like feeling vanishes, replaced by the fear again.
The dragon lands lightly in front of its cave. And now I really wish I had a notebook or something. Because the way it lands is not all that different from an irox coming in for the attack.
Walking on all four legs, the dragon is just slightly less elegant than when soaring in the air. It’s moves are smooth and controlled, and the scales shine like gold in the low sunlight.
I can’t help slowly getting to my feet in preparation to run. The panic is under control, but only just.
“It has something in its claws,” Car’rakz whispers.
And it does. Something dark and small. It’s not creature, I think. It looks like metal, with a dull sheen like from dirty rims on a car.
Then the dragon enters its cave, and the last we see of it is its long tail waving once and the hook on the end of it glittering in the setting sun.
With the dragon out of sight, the fear only decreases very slightly, and I itch to get away from here.
“Stay a little,” Car’rakz says when I stir. “Let’s keep andestani esoloji for a while until it gets too dark.”
I think what he’s doing is just checking that I’m not panicking again. But I’m not, and I force myself to sit back down. It does make sense to keep observing the creature until there’s no light to see by.
But the dragon doesn’t reemerge, and finally Car’rakz takes my hand and leads me away and into more substantial cover.
“That was useful,” I say when I’m sure we’re too far away for the dragon to hear. “Did you see how it landed?”
“I did. It has a short moment of slight imbalance because it must put its feet down first.”
“A short moment of slight imbalance,” I repeat. “You sure you not zoologist?”
“Not quite,” Car’rakz says, leading me through the jungle with sure steps. “I often think I am really Sulogis. It’s a wonderful thought. Then I wake up and am only Car’rakz.”
“I knew it,” I say, relieved to put the dragon behind me for today. “You show all signs. Strange speech and like to hunt Smalls and eat meat. Clearly zoologist deep down.”
We walk in silence for a while. I get the feeling Car’rakz is thinking about something.
“My tribe,” he finally says, “is not like yours.”
“I know. No other tribe like mine. Have women and warriors with stripes of every color.”
“Your tribe is good,” he agrees. “Very good. Might be the best tribe in the jungle. Mine is… different.”
“Less good?”
He struggles with it, and I don’t blame him. The cavemen are very attached to their tribes, and speaking ill of it is something they hesitate to do, even in the face of strong evidence.
“Less good in some ways,” he finally manages. “It’s not bad. Hmm. Actually, it’s a little bad.”
“You don’t have to say this,” I tell him. “I’ll see your tribe. Might not be as bad as think. Also, I live as captive of the dragon Troga for many months. Can’t be worse than that.”
“Maybe not,” he says. “You’ll see.”
I look around. There are still trees and bushes, but
the landscape is mostly rocks and cliffs. “Is it much longer?”
“We’re here,” Car’rakz says and stops, then wearily sits down on a large rock with a flat top.
I look around, confused. We’re in a valley between rough cliffs of gray stone.
Then I see movement. A handful of cavemen are walking towards us from each side of the valley. And I see their caves now. They’re just cracks in the rock, but I suppose that they widen out behind the narrow entrances.
Huh. I’ve never seen a caveman village before, but I’ve heard them described. This doesn’t feel like a village. It’s too sparse, too much like everything around it. Where is their fence and gate? Their totem pole? Their guards?
The men come up to us. Their clothes are patched and even ragged here and there. They’re all older than Car’rakz. I can’t see any boys or adolescents like I’ve heard the other tribes have.
A man steps ahead of the others. He has white hair and is pretty thin. His stripes are not metallic silver like Car’rakz’s, but rather a dull gray. He wears a necklace that I’d be willing to bet is made of gold. “Greetings, Car’rakz. You have brought an outsider to our village.”
“Greetings, Chief Had’dax. I have brought a woman.”
The men study me with considerable interest.
“So you have. Then the rumors are true. There are women on Xren. Is she then The Woman?”
“She is not. There are more women in her tribe. As well as very skilled warriors from every tribe. I have spoken with them, tribesmen. They want to kill the dragon. And the many other dragons that are coming soon.”
“More dragons?” the chief inquires. “How do they know that?”
Car’rakz glances at me. “The alien women know many things that are of great importance.”
“Have you brought a Lifegiver, Car’rakz?” another man asks. “That would be of value. You have been gone for many days.”
Car’rakz frowns. “I have not brought a Lifegiver. I have brought a woman.”
The chief gives me a mild smile, then focuses on Car’rakz. “We did agree to let you go into the jungle so you would get us a Lifegiver. Or ideally more than one. From some other tribe.”
“They have no Lifegivers,” Car’rakz says, and his hand tightens around mine. “They have women.”
“Ah. Then it’s true that women can give birth, like the shamans always said. Of course, it remains to see if that is true of alien women. And what you have brought us is not so much a woman as an alien. Look how small it is! Where are its stripes? Its fangs? Our own women would not look like this. But be at peace, Car’rakz! You did well. The tribe thanks you.”
The chief bows briefly then turns around and walks back to where he came from. The other men send me some curious looks, then they too turn around and stroll away.
“Ooo-kay,” I say, puzzled. I had expected more of a reaction from a tribe that’s just been shown the first woman any of them has ever seen.
“The chief is a great man,” Car’rakz says. “He trusts me for many important missions.”
“Like getting Lifegivers from other tribes? Why?”
“I’ll show you.”
He leads me to a narrow part of the valley where there are dry patches of sand and gravel. He points to one of them. “That was our Lifegiver enclosure. There was a drought many years ago. They all died.”
I look up at him, stunned. “The Lifegivers all died? But those are life of the tribe! The future! No Lifegivers, no babies born. No boys. No future!”
“That is true,” he says. “It’s why I said the tribe is different. And a little bad.”
“The tribes make sure Lifegivers survive,” I state. “It is most important part of tribes. If no water, other tribes would give their own blood to the Lifegivers. No babies, no tribe.”
“There was a drought!” Car’rakz snaps. “There was no rain for weeks! No water nearby! They couldn’t conjure water out of the dry air!”
I’m totally shocked. The Lifegivers are the heart of any tribe. And this is a freaking rainforest. You can always get water here. “Couldn’t conjure. But could get water. Carry water from river. Far away if necessary! Walk days if must! If water for tribesmen, must be water for Lifegivers. Lifegivers more important! Tribesmen still alive. They get water. Only Lifegivers not.”
Car’rakz is staring at me, and it’s a dangerous look. “You have no idea what went on here.”
“Then tell me,” I suggest. “Why the Lifegivers die? What happen here?”
“It was a difficult time. I don’t remember it; I was too young. But I was told. The Bigs were very active and encroached on the hunting grounds. It was too dangerous to go hunting. Then there was no rain for weeks. And the Bigs would kill anyone who left the village. The tribesmen survived on fruits and berries. The Lifegivers can’t survive on that. There were also some other important things that had to be done. Lifegivers are very sensitive. They need perfect care, or they die. It was not possible to give them perfect care.”
I touch his forearm. I don’t like to see him upset like this. “I understand. It had nothing to do with you. Was desperate time, I understand.”
“A desperate time,” he repeats. “I was the last baby born to the tribe. After me, there have been no boys here.”
After seeing the other men of the tribe, that doesn’t surprise me. “There are more men your age?”
He starts walking back to the center of the village. “Yes, there was one who was two years older than me.”
“There was?”
“He died.”
We walk to a cave opening, narrower than the others. Car’rakz squeezes in ahead of me, having to turn sideways and pulling his sword in behind him.
It’s a dark cave, and about ten feet in it does open up a little. But not really enough to be comfortable for a man of Car’rakz’s size. He can’t straighten up in here. By comparison, the cave with the panorama view where we slept for two nights was a palace.
He lights an oil lamp, and I look around. “Not bad,” I lie.
“It’s a small cave,” he admits. “But I am the youngest member of the tribe. When an older tribesman passes on, I will get his cave. But I’m not hoping for it. The tribe needs all its men.”
“Uh-huh.”
There are no wall paintings in here, and it’s kind of damp. It’s tidy enough, and there’s a shelf with some not-sheep skins, carefully folded up.
Okay, it’s not much. But it is Car’rakz’s home.
“It’s nice,” I finally say. “A good cave to live in.”
Car’rakz sends me a smile. “Much better with you in it.”
I return his smile. But for some reason I’m put in mind of my childhood, when I’d go to a friend’s house and that friend would behave very differently around her family than she would in school. Like she was a different person, almost. Car’rakz is giving me that feeling right now.
“Okay. Shall we go back to the other cave? On the mountain?”
He frowns. “That cave is in the wilderness. Not in a village.”
“I like the view,” I explain. “And I’m not sure cave has room for… um… for mating.”
The caveman takes two not-sheep furs and spreads them out on the rocky, uneven floor. “I think there is room.”
There might be room. But this whole village is giving me a creepy feeling, and I’d much rather go up to the other cave. “Maybe.”
He sits down on the fur and pats the spot next to him. “Let’s have some dinner.” He opens his bag.
“We eat with the tribe?”
He looks up at me, puzzled. “We eat here.”
I take a deep breath and sit down. “In some tribes, evening meal is common time for all. Share food and talk and drink.”
“I think I said that this tribe is different.”
“You did,” I admit. “And it is different, I think.”
“We have our customs, they have theirs.” He hands over cold meat and limp leaves, then starts eating
.
I pick at the meat, longing for the other cave. Up there, we always had a fire and could eat hot food. But I’m being a spoiled brat. This is Car’rakz’s tribe and his cave. Of course, he’s attached to them both.
“How many men in tribe?” I ask, chewing cold meat.
“About thirty. Used to be more, but there were difficult times. Droughts and aggressive Bigs.”
“I notice no fence around village. Is that why?”
“It’s impractical and difficult to make a fence. The terrain is rough and the ground is hard.”
And yet, every other tribe at least tries to keep the wildlife out, I think to myself.
“Car’rakz?” a creaky voice calls from outside.
Car’rakz gets to his feet and goes to the opening. “Come in, Brec’akz!”
A couple of seconds later, an old and bent caveman is standing just inside the opening, and that means the cave is absolutely packed.
“Ah,” Brec’akz says and peers at me with a friendly face, leaning on a walking stick. “I had to see the woman. Does she speak?”
“I speak some,” I inform him. “But warrior speech is hard.”
“The voice,” the man says. “Such a wonderful sound. Mature and clear. Truly, she is wonderful, Car’rakz. Did you ever expect the women to be like that?”
“I did not,” Car’rakz confesses and sits back down. “She is more remarkable than I ever expected.”
“Are you shaman of tribe?” I ask.
“Oh no,” the man laughs. “The Rentoni tribe hasn’t had a shaman since… well, since Car’rakz went through the Stripening. Right, Car’rakz?”
“Dus’ax was the last shaman we had,” Car’rakz confirms. “After him, nobody has had the calling.”
“We wondered for a while if Car’rakz would be the next shaman,” Brec’akz says. “But now the opinion is that he will probably be our chief. Eventually.”
Car’rakz beams. “That is not for me to decide.”
“True. But the words have been said. More than once.”
I nod. “Car’rakz would be good chief,” I agree. “Get tribe back to good.”