that make her angry? "I know you can," I tell her, bewildered at her frustration. "I am just pleased. It is not easy to make a fire without striker stones. I thought to spend a good deal of time trying to make a fire without them now that Juth is gone with our supplies. I am pleased it is done and you are warm and taken care of."
"Oh." She looks uncomfortable. "The stones were easy to find. They're all over this beach and glitter in the right light, so I grabbed a few." R'ven curls up under the shelter again. She has a long branch and uses it to poke the fire. "Sorry if I snapped at you. I just…" She lets out a breath. "I'm in a rotten mood."
I know why she is. The answer is as obvious as my straining loincloth whenever I am near her. We are pricking at each other, unsure if we wish to start a fight, like a pair of moody night flyers. Or at least, I think she wishes to start a fight…I just want her to put her mouth on me, to put my hand back on her soft teat so I can feel the peak stiffen against my fingers. I want to lay her down on the sands and put my tongue to her skin, tasting her everywhere.
I dump the armful of wood near the fire in frustration and snap a piece in half. It feels good to break things, at least. "I am going to build a raft. You can rest your ankle for another day. Once the weather is clear and the raft is built, we will float our way back to the others."
"That's a good idea," R'ven says, offering me a small smile. "It'll give Juth time to return in case he changes his mind."
He will not change his mind, I think. I suspect he is nearby, watching us, waiting for us to leave more supplies so he can steal them again. It is what I would do if I were in his position. A good hunter watches his prey and learns its movements so he knows when to strike.
Not that I am a true hunter. The thought makes me clench my jaw in frustration, and I pick up another piece of wood and break it over my knee, adjusting the size so it will work for our raft. Or…just because it feels good to take my frustration out on it.
R'ven clears her throat. "Are you cold? Do you want your tunic back?"
I glance down at my body. I am wearing my boots and loincloth, my warm tunic currently on her body. I do not know where my leggings have gone to—and I suspect that they are somewhere on Juth's body right about now, that thief. I am not cold, though, despite the icy weather. If anything, I have worked up a sweat. "You keep it."
The thought of R'ven wearing nothing but the fur makes me sweat even more. It reminds me of last night, when she pushed her soft teat against my hand and it felt so perfect, so—
I turn and march away to grab another pile of wood so she does not see the problem in my loincloth. There is no point to dragging all the wood over to her side to work, except that I just want to be near her. I can put a raft together as easily on the beach as I can next to the fire…but I end up making more work for myself anyhow, just to be near her.
12
RAVEN
"There is food."
U'dron's cranky voice draws me out from my reverie. We're both in rotten moods, me staring into the fire and wishing that fate had been kinder to me, and U'dron…well, U'dron is probably pissy that he can't get back to his resonance mate. He's been sporting wood all day long as he marches back and forth, gathering wood from the shore and piling it close to our camp. I guess I'm supposed to be polite and not notice, but…yeah, that's not who I am as a person.
Heck, I'm doing my best not to stare right now even though his massive thighs are glistening with sweat and flexing every time he rips apart a piece of wood. It just draws my attention to his loincloth, which seems small and completely inadequate right about now. "Food?" I ask dimly. "Juth left something behind?"
U'dron snorts. "No, that scavenger has cleaned this beach of all