Page 9 of Feast

The leader of the pack stood at the forefront, conversing with Rolf. He was a tall one, every inch as tall as Rolf, and every bit as broad in the shoulders. But that’s where the similarities ended. While Rolf’s hair was gray like weathered wood, the young pack leader’s hair was a deep, rich brown, almost like Ika’s own. It hung around his face in thick, lustrous locks.

Ika’s fingers itched with an unaccountable urge to run her fingers through that hair, and she caught herself unconsciously stroking the fur pelts that she was hiding beneath.

But even more striking was the pack leader’s face. His features could have been carved from stone. High, perfectly angled cheekbones, a squared-off jaw, and piercing eyes set beneath a straight and serious brow. His features were perfectly symmetrical except for a deep scar across his right eye.

It was a warrior’s face.

Ika had never seen a warrior before, except for Rolf, who had killed many evil nith in his day. She loved to hear his stories of blood and guts and courage. But now, seeing this ukkur warrior with her own two eyes, Ika’s pulse pounded a little harder in her ears.

It pounded in other places too. The shameful places that made her different.

Ika turned her eyes to the other three ukkur companions. One of them wore a coarse beard like Rolf did, but it was an attractive sandy color. The other was the biggest and bulkiest of the bunch, a dangerous looking brute with his hair cropped close to his hefty skull. The last one was the youngest, not much older than Ika perhaps, with short blond hair and a handsome, honest face.

Even though she was warm beneath the pile of fur pelts, Ika shivered at the sight of these ukkur.

But there was one troubling fact that Ika couldn’t help but notice.

Despite all of their differences, these foreign ukkur seemed like Rolf. They were tall like him. Their features were rough and heavy. Although their bodies were mostly cloaked beneath their winter furs, their arms were bare and bulging with muscles. And all of them had short tusks protruding from their lower jaws.

None of them looked like Ika, small and soft.

None of them had chest bumps like she did, those useless mounds of flesh that only ever got in her way when she was running. And when one of the ukkur reached between his legs to adjust himself, it was clear that he had something substantial down there. A piss stick and sacs like Rolf’s. Not a stupid, sometimes-bleeding hole like Ika had.

Seeing these ukkur just confirmed what Ika had long suspected.

She was different.

She was wrong.

Ika wished so very badly that she could just be a normal ukkur. Big and strong and covered in battle scars. Maybe she would even grow a coarse, grizzled beard like Rolf had. She would have a piss stick between her legs and everything. It would be great.

Then Rolf wouldn’t make her hide when other ukkur visited.

But for now, Ika had to settle for watching from her hiding place.

Ika could not hear what the ukkur pack leader was talking to Rolf about. The cave entrance was too far away and her ears were muffled by the heaps of pelts concealing her. She could not make out any specific words, but she could hear the sound of the pack leader’s voice, deep and rumbling like a rockslide tumbling down the side of the mountain.

That sound sent weird ticklish vibrations deep into her core.

It was a strange sensation. It felt warm, and yet Ika’s body reacted as if it were cold, muscles shivering, nipples hardening.

After a while, the pack of ukkur bid Rolf farewell and trudged away down the slope and out of sight.

Rolf stood for a while, watching them go. Finally he turned and came inside.

“They’re gone,” Rolf rumbled softly. “You can come out now, Ika.”

In the past, when hiding had still been a fun game, Ika would never come out when Rolf called her. She would stay in her hiding place, stifling her giggles while Rolf tromped around the den in an exaggerated manner, looking into baskets and behind boulders, pretending that he didn’t know where to find her.

But Ika no longer felt like playing those games.

She pushed aside the pelts that were covering her and stepped out into the center of the den. She was wearing her animal fur tunic that covered her upper body and hips but left her arms and legs exposed. Her dark hair was tied up in a simple, functional bun and decorated with feathers.

Rolf went to the center of the den and added some logs to the fire.

“What did those ukkur want?” Ika asked, glancing toward the cave opening and the memory of those three brutal looking warriors.

“Nothing special,” Rolf said a little too quickly. “They were just looking to trade.”