I nudge her with my shoulder. "Bitch, please. You haven't been a virgin in forever."
She laughs wildly. "No one tell my nanay that. I'm a very good girl." The look she gives me is pure naughtiness, though. That's Flor in a nutshell—always trying to make everyone laugh and enjoy themselves. She's a bit of a clown for all that she's the oldest of our group, but I love her fun attitude. She leans over and whispers to me. "He's big, though, isn't he?"
Yeah, I noticed that, too. He's definitely less David and more Goliath in the loincloth. I glance over at him again—because how can you not?—and he's watching me still. With a smile and a toss of my hair, I go back to teasing Flor. "You know for a so-called virgin, you're very knowledgeable about dicks."
"Don't tell my nanay that, either." She winks.
2
A'TAM
It does not matter to me that this beach is cold and covered with white fluff that I am told is frozen water. It does not matter that my home has sunk to the bottom of the sea and I have eaten nothing for three days but a few bits of dried fish. It does not matter that I have not slept in just as long.
My mate is here.
Of course, she is not my mate yet. I do not know her name, and my khui is silent. It does not matter, though. She will be my mate. The moment I saw her sparkling eyes and smile, I knew. Her face is lovely, for all that it is strange and flat like L'ren and M'rsl. Her humor shows clear through, as does her fearlessness. She is not afraid of a strange clan appearing on the beach, but only stares at us with blatant curiosity.
She stared at my cock with the same obvious attention, and I decide this will be a fine, fierce female…just as soon as I resonate to her.
I rub my chest, silently encouraging my khui to sing out its claim, but it remains silent. Soon enough, then.
I finish warming myself by the fire and move to go talk to the creature. A hyoo-man, L'ren said. K'thar of Strong Arm seems very happy with his hyoo-man mate, and T'chai of Tall Horn…well. T'chai would likely be very happy with his female if his guts were not in danger of spilling out of him.
I see the others mingling, and I see the Tall Horn males racing after one of the females. Are they going to snatch them all before we can? Frowning, I push aside the bowl of food offered to me. I am hungry, but some things cannot wait.
I'rec grabs my arm. "And where do you go?"
"I saw the female that will be my mate," I tell him. "I must get to her before Tall Horn or Strong Arm do."
I'rec shakes his head. "You stay here. All of Shadow Cat needs this word stone they will put in our heads first. You can chase the female afterward."
"But—"
I'rec gives me a look that means I will lose this argument. "There are many females on this beach, A'tam. I feel the same excitement you do. But stop and think a moment. What will you do when you approach her? You cannot talk to her. Will you just grunt and beat your chest and hope she decides to fling herself into your furs?"
I consider this for a moment. "…yes?"
He rolls his eyes. "Stay here. You will get this word stone. We will all get the word stone before the other clans. And then we will talk to the females all we want."
His plan sounds like a good one. I reason that it must be, even if I am impatient. I wish to learn her name. I wish to know more about her, like why the hyoo-man skins are such odd colors and why their teats are so large. Maybe I'rec is wrong. Maybe she would fall into my furs and demand to be pleasured. From what we have been told by the one called M'dok, this beach is full of unmated females.
They will not be unmated for much longer. With this thought in my mind, I grab the food bowl offered to me after all and devour its contents.
When I finally get the word stone in my head—truly, it is no larger than the tiniest of fish scales—I rub behind my ear and look for the female. I race through the camp, but the one I seek is nowhere to be found. The scents of these people are layered over one another in a confusing mess; I cannot pick out just one. I certainly cannot pick out my mate's scent.
Several of the new tribe are yawning, and as I watch, one male banks the fire, tossing several large chunks of some sort of fuel onto it in a heap. In the distance, I can hear someone crying, and more hushed conversations. It is all so…noisy. Noisy, and full of scents. I compare this to the lonely quiet of the Shadow Cat cave, of long days where nothing could be heard but the cries of birds in the trees, or the buzz of a nearby yellow-fly. A Tall Horn male stalks past me with an angry glare, but I ignore him. More of the white, drifting fluff is falling from the skies, and the air grows colder than ever. I regret tossing aside the fur cloak I wore.
Actually, I do not regret it much, now that I think about it. The female enjoyed eyeing my cock. For that memory, I will shiver, just a little.
Tomorrow, then, I tell myself. Tomorrow I will seek out my mate and learn her name.
Someone drags our raft near one of the fires, and it is there I sleep for the first night. It is not the most comfortable of beds. I see no greenery in this place to make myself a leafy nest, so we must get more skins, and skins with the thick layer of fur on them will be best. I wake up and see O'jek by the small fire, alone. Judging from the scent trail, I’rec has gone to the main fire and converses with the leaders there. O'jek has not, but that does not surprise me. For all his sourness, O'jek has always been shy.
I give a bone-cracking yawn and get to my feet. The twin suns are about to rise, and the air is crisp but not quite so cold as last night. The white fluff rests atop the rocks and the mountains in the distance, but the shore is on the other side of me and it is unchanging, if a little icy. I can get used to this place, I decide. With a stretch, I scratch at my stomach, wondering how one hunts in this frozen land.
The moment I stand, O'jek tosses a length of leather at me. "Wear that."
I eye the leather, and the loincloth he wears. "Why?" Loin coverings are worn at times amongst my people, of course, but usually just when the biting flies are the worst, or in special hunting ceremonies. A silent hunter does not wear additional clothing, because if it catches on leaves or a branch, it can give away your location.
"I am told it is considered impolite to have your cock swing freely," O'jek says in a dry voice. "The hyoo-mans do not like bodies, it seems."
I think of how entirely covered the human females were, their bodies draped head to toe in thick furs. "A shame."
I put the loincloth on, tying it at my waist, and then head to the main fire, where many people have gathered. There is a strange mixture—I see two males with bright red skin, a pregnant female, and more of the tribe that calls themself sa-khui—the people of the khui. I do not see my bright-eyed female, though, and I pace around the fire, searching faces.
A pregnant female with a strange orange mane and a spotted face holds a bowl out to me. "Are you hungry?"
I pause, wondering if this is a trick. "Of course."
She gestures at the bowl. "Go on, take it."
My stomach growls. My mouth fills with saliva, but I do not reach for the delicious-smelling food. "I have not hunted for this meat."