Gur as if seeking guidance.
“If you wanna get out of here, I’m your pass,” I say.
Gur snorts. “You don’t protect your females. The entire world knows that about the Ka.”
I ignore him. It is true. We marched into Ra lands, leaving our villages and towns unprotected, and they came and slaughtered everyone. Not only that, they occupied our lands for many turns before Hart and I grew strong enough to lead the Ka tribe and regain the lands. We still have some territory under Ra occupation, but Hart signed the truce regardless.
“If you accept the fur,” Feli says, “this Ka wins a night with you. Think about what a night with him would be like and decide.”
I snort. “Female, a night with me will be warm and pleasant. I will feed you a chunk of my own flesh.”
Her brow furrows. She appears confused.
“Or soup?” I prompt. “Mas can make soup, can’t you, Mas?” When Mas doesn’t answer, I nudge him.
“Yes,” he says.
Mas hunts for fresh meals like all the males, so we don’t know how to make anything. Mas probably has no idea what soup is, but I do, because Hart briefed me on all things I should know about womankind: Smells good. Looks cute. Eats predators. May be a goddess.
“Chicken soup,” I press onward, having no clue what that means. But she does. Oh yes, she does. Her eyes light up, and a small smile plays on her lips. She walks down the steps and turns her back to me, then stands there.
What? What is she doing?
I look to Mas for help.
“Go on,” he says and motions with his hand.
Go on what? I can’t ask and appear as if I don’t know, when he clearly knows things I should know.
“Put the pelt over her shoulders,” he says, practically spelling out the words. “Keep the female warm. It’s a fine courting gesture.”
Oh fuck. I’d never have guessed. In games, we drop the gifts on the steps of the platform. We don’t hand them to the female directly, but this is a womankind, and I’m learning. I shake out the rain from the pelt, put it over her shoulders, bundle her up, then spin her around. I wipe water off her face and move her hair out of the way.
She looks up at me and says, “Winner, winner, chicken dinner.”
I think I’m the chicken. She wants a chunk of me.
Chapter Four
Michelle
Unlike the others, this male offered me a pelt, a furry, warm pelt, and bundled me up. I don’t care about their games or which male is going to bring me what. This one offered kindness and a cup of chicken soup for dinner. Gur asked me not to accept, but I’d be pretty stupid to refuse it. After a few hours in this weather, I’d have died. Besides, this male and Gur sound like enemies, and the enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Whether this male will deliver on the soup or not is all the same to me. If I go back to the hole where Gur kept me, I’m not getting soup for dinner. Provided I make it through the night, which I won’t.
Vicious weather.
Vicious aliens.
Vicious fate I’ve succumbed to, but I want to live, and he offered me a better chance of survival against the elements.
We stand there facing each other, and I’m taking in his face while he fastens the pelt over me, fixes it so it covers my head. His jawbone has edges, and it’s made harder with tattoos aesthetically drawn to show off the hard edges. He’s made himself appear scary and fierce.
“Are you a warrior around here?” I ask.
“Not around here.”
“But you are classified as a warrior?”
“Yes.”
“You all are warriors, then?”
He tugs on the last leather string around my throat, then bends to secure my legs. I dip my head to see what he’s doing. He takes off another pelt from his back, this one thinner and hairless, almost like a sleeveless coat.
He looks up and smiles. “I love seeing my female wrapped in my kill.” He tightens up the pelt and rises. “All done now,” he announces, then picks me up and throws me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. As he marches away, I try to lift my head to see the platform, but all I see is the pelt secured over my head. Giving up seeing anything, and with my hands and feet tied, I bounce off his hard back. From the corner of my eye, I see