I grab one side of the travois as A’tam settles the other on his shoulder. We are using the strong, bony hollows that come from the fang-fish in the streams. Leezh and R’hosh use them for bows, but they work as well as a stout branch for hauling.
“We will be eating dvisti for the next full turn of the moon,” A’tam brags, grinning, as we haul our catch back down the mountain paths. “You are going to have to share your herb knowledge with the others or else it will be many dry mouthfuls.”
I grunt. “I hunt. Let someone else cook.”
“Yes, but you are so good at both,” A’tam teases. “You are good at many things. Not as good as me, of course, but close.”
I ignore him.
“Not good at courting a female, either,” he adds in slyly.
“Better than you. A rock is better than you.”
He laughs, taking no offense at my words. Perhaps it is easy to laugh when you have a happy mate in your furs and a strong, healthy young son. Again, I am touched with envy and I imagine D’see with a child in her arms. How she would love that. How much joy it would bring her.
But when I close my eyes, I see D’see’s face covered in blood, her arm out of socket and hanging useless at her side. That memory stiffens my resolve. I cannot endure that again and survive. I must harden my heart against her.
“Would you like advice, brother?” A’tam persists. “I have been having many mind-meetings with S’teph and she has taught me about feelings and expressing them. Perhaps I can help you.”
By all the ancestors. I am tempted to abandon my travois and A’tam both. “I did not come up here to be lectured.”
“No, you are running,” he agrees easily.
I growl at him. “Enough.”
“I just do not understand—”
“Enough, A’tam.”
He continues to ignore my wishes. “You have sniffed after D’see for several turns of the seasons now. She was in your furs. I thought that was what you wanted. And now you have decided she is not the mate for you?” A’tam shakes his head. “It seems foolish to me, that is all.”
“I did not ask you.”
“But if you did—”
“I did not.” I let a dangerous edge seep into my tone.
A’tam ignores my mood. “But if you did, I would tell you that you are being a yurk.”
That makes me pause. It is a human word, this “yurk.” “A what?”
“A yurk. Br’chit calls me one all the time when I argue with her.” He frowns over at me when I do not immediately understand. “You know, it is also the word for…” He makes a cock-rubbing gesture.
I shake my head at him. “Have you lost your senses?”
“No one has called you a ‘yurk’ before?” A’tam looks thoughtful. “Is it just me? Maybe it is a mating word and I did not realize.”
“Will you stop talking?” I press a hand to my brow. “I am tired, and we have far to go, and we will not make it down the mountain if you keep speaking, because I am going to throw you off of it.”
A’tam laughs, unafraid of my threat. “You are just cranky because now you are looking forward to empty furs. That is what you get.” He nudges me with his shoulder. “Yurk.”
I wonder if anyone would be angry if I indeed threw A’tam off this mountain. B’shit, perhaps, but only for a short time. She would probably enjoy the silence, I think sourly. “Quiet.”
“All I am saying is that you cannot chase after the most fragile female in the tribe and then get mad at her because she is fragile. Even I am not that rock-headed.”
I hate his words. And I hate that they are right.
I am not being fair to D’see. She agreed to do as I asked. She has not rejected her side of our agreement. But I do not think I can move forward with mine. Not without my heart shattering. The thought terrifies me and I push it away. “Just help me with these dvisti and stop talking. Or if you must talk, tell me about A’bri.”
A’tam laughs with delight, eager to launch into another tale. “Did I tell you what I found him doing with my net the other day?”
We return to the village several days later, the caches full and our packs brimming with skins to be processed. Only a foolish hunter would stay out longer when there is meat enough for all and much work to be done with the hides. Even I cannot find a reason to remain in the mountains, though part of me would like to continue avoiding D’see until the ache in my heart eases.
A larger, more selfish part of me is desperate to see her again. I just want to look at her, I tell myself. To make sure she is all right. Nothing more.