Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
And falls down again.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my laughter silent. Taushen is too young yet to know when to stop drinking sah-sah, though Hemalo should have known better. I wonder why they were drinking, then decide I do not care. I feel a stab of jealousy. It should have been me drinking with them, enjoying myself. Now I am nothing. A bitter fool who must hunt endlessly for fires he is not welcome at.
I try not to let it eat at my gut, but I cannot help it. The tribe was all I had, and now I have nothing.
Now I am moping like Taushen, I imagine. I cannot do this. An exile must always work. While they whine and drink, I hunt and feed the tribe. I ran across Taushen’s trail this morning, and decided to follow him after I saw the wildly weaving pattern of his footsteps into the snow. I have been watching over him to make certain he does nothing foolish or risky, but Taushen is smart. He stays close to the caves and checks traplines and nets instead of fishing while his head is aching and his reflexes slow.
I suspect Taushen is not the only one that drank too much last night and is moving slow this morning. I chuckle to myself as the young hunter tugs at his net again and then thumps down onto his bottom like a kit, staring out at the water. This is turning out to be quite entertaining.
I am so focused on Taushen that I almost miss the snow-cat that stalks nearby, slinking from the twisty leaves of a bush to a snowy overhang. I ready one of my bone knives, studying the creature. It is emaciated, fur matted, and the khui glow in its eyes is weak. Its movements are slow. Diseased, then, or riddled with worms and so far gone even its khui cannot keep it healthy. I watch it study me, then it slinks away. It is too weak to challenge for territory, and I relax my grip on my knife. A fresh snow-cat would make a decent meal for those back at the cave, but this one is not good to eat.
As I watch it retreat, a long, straight bone wobbles through the air and drops to the ground a short distance away.
I narrow my eyes, squinting at it. Am I seeing things? Is Leezh or Raahosh nearby? Was that one of their arrows? I have seen them hunt with the weapon, though, and trained with it myself. I know how to aim and hit my prey with one of the slim arrows, but that shot…it was not good. It would not kill the snow-cat even if the creature remained entirely still.
The snow-cat limps away, and in the distance I can hear a female letting out an angry string of strange human words. Curious, I get to my feet and crouch low, remaining in my hiding spot amongst the intisar bushes. Their spines pull at my clothes, but I nudge the leaves aside carefully, gazing out.
A figure swathed in many layers of furs moves through the snow. The form is small enough to be human, and curvy enough that I can guess which one it is. What is Mah-dee doing out here? Alone?
She wanders away, scooping up her arrow and then heading down into a nearby valley, presumably to chase the snow-cat she is hunting.
I glance back at Taushen. He is clearly not fit to be hunting this morning, and I worry I cannot leave him. At the same time, Mah-dee is alone and out in the wild. She will get hurt…or worse, if she corners the sickly snow-cat. I am torn.
I move back to the ridge and look over at Taushen again. To my relief, he has given up on his nets and is heading back in the direction of the tribal cave, a long, heavy fish slung over one shoulder. Good. That leaves me free to go and rescue Mah-dee from herself.
I turn back toward her and see she is already down in the valley, chasing after her prey. Her steps are slow and awkward in the snowshoes, and she uses the end of the bow as a pole to guide her. As I watch, she stumbles forward, planting face first into the thick snow.
I sigh and head down the side of the hill after her, stifling my irritation. Humans are painfully unaware of just how dangerous it is for them to be out in the snows. Mah-dee is more unaware than most, but she is also newer than the others. If this were Jo-see or Claire, I would have harsh words for them, but I suppose I must be forgiving when it comes to Mah-dee.
I hike down after her.