I want him to know someone else loves him. Someone else is there for him.
My heart aches, and under the thick purring in my chest, I feel that this is good and right.
Now’s the time for us to become one.
Chapter Five
RUKH
Har-loh’s quiet as we leave my father’s grave. Seeing it always makes me sad, but today there’s only an ache of loss that she never got to meet him. I’m not beside myself with sorrow, not today. Today there’s too much to show my Har-loh. I need to make her a fire and set up the bed in the cave before it gets too dark.
I can’t dwell on my past any longer. I say a small internal goodbye to my father and take Har-loh back to the portion of beach we will claim as ours. She says nothing, but I can tell she is thinking hard. I recognize the look on her face that tells me she wants to say many things to me, and we will have a language lesson later, perhaps.
I touch her speckled hand. Is she hungry? She pointed out the crawler earlier, so I assumed she wanted to eat.
She gives me an absent smile and squeezes my hand. “Snothing. Justhinkin.”
Again, she gets the distant look on her face and I worry. Is something wrong? I’m pensive as we return to our new cave and we get to work. I make a fire pit and build a fire while she finds a dried branch on the beach and sweeps the floor of the cave. By the time I spit the crawler over the fire to cook, she’s taken off her outer layer of furs and has set them up as a bed. I feel a twinge of guilt that I made her leave the others behind. It’s warmer here, but will she still be cold? Am I making her suffer?
I don’t want her to die like my father did. My heart clenches in my chest, and I can’t breathe at the thought. What will I do if Har-loh gets sick like my father did? I move to her side and swiftly pull her against me, holding her close. Touching her helps, but…it doesn’t feel like enough. What are we missing? A helpless growl of frustration sounds in my throat.
As if she can sense my unease, Har-loh wraps her small arms around me. “Ino.” She cuddles with me for a moment, and then inhales. “Issat food? Smellsdelishis.” She gestures at the fire. When I pull the many-legged crawler off the fire and offer it to her, she wrinkles her nose. “Gahdtitsugly.”
I rip off one of the legs and succulent pale meat shows from inside the hard shell. I’ve never eaten one of these cooked, but it looks and smells much better than it did raw. But because Har-loh is the most important thing to me, I won’t eat until she’s full.
She makes a face as she takes the bite from me and gingerly puts it to her mouth. Her tongue flicks out to taste it, and my cock stirs in response at the sight. A moment later, her eyes light up and she looks at me in surprise. “Isgud!”
She likes it? I tear another leg off and offer it to her.
“Yeweet.” Har-loh gestures at me and picks at her leg, removing the hard carapace before prying out the flesh. I do the same, and the food is indeed tasty like this. My Har-loh knows so many things. She’s incredible. My chest thrums and hers picks up the song. She looks over at me and smiles, then takes another bite.
And I relax and eat, too.
By the time we’ve picked all the meat off the bones, Har-loh is full and washes her hands and mouth with some of the water from the skin. I do the same, since cleanliness seems important to her. Instead of sitting back down next to the fire with me, though, she moves to her bed.
Har-loh pats the furs next to her. “Come here, Rukh.”
I move to her side and crouch, curious. Is she tired and wishes to sleep early? Or does she want me to hold her close and touch her folds? My cock throbs at the thought and I resist the urge to stroke it. I like it better when she touches it, anyhow.
Her hands move to my hair and she smooths it off my chest and pushes it behind my shoulders. “Rukh eez Har-loh’s mate, yes?” She touches her breast, which is thrumming with song. “Mate.” Then she taps my chest. “Rukh mate. This purr-purr-purr? This means ‘mate’。 No purr-purr, no mate.”
I don’t catch all of her words, but what she is saying makes sense. My chest did not start thrumming – purring, as she calls it – until she appeared. If it means she belongs to me, I will gladly let it purr all the time.
“Purr-purr is ‘resonance’。 Doyew nodatword?” She looks at me with wide blue eyes. When I don’t respond, she sighs and repeats her words. Purr-purr is resonance. I repeat them, too. Then it dawns on me. Ah. That is what this thrumming is called. “Resonance,” I say, and tap her chest, then mine.