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“Nor your chieftess,” I say, itching at my fingers.
Larzon huffs again, but it is good natured.
“I don’t mind small,” Olfran proclaims. “I think my warrior’s heartspace would like to have someone delicate to protect. Like Rachel and Vantos. She’s a fine female.”
“Very fine indeed,” I say. “Just do not let Vantos hear you say so with any longing in your voice.”
The others laugh, and Olfran inclines his head in acknowledgement.
“Vantos is a good male and protects his linasha as he should. I’ll be the same when I meet mine.”
“When?” Larzon’s eyebrows rise. “You are so certain it is ‘when’ not ‘if’?”
His words kill the good mood amongst us. Olfran deflates, Paskar fidgets in his seat. Anghar and Maldek both look guilty for a moment, before their gratitude to be blessed overcomes them.
Nineteen females await mates. Eighteen in truth, although they do not know that yet. It is too few for even the unmated males amongst our three tribes. And that is before taking Ferzan and his wanderers into consideration. Or the other tribes that live further from our territory - males we are not familiar with. Or Jestaw’s sorry troupe, made up of the dregs of Basran’s old tribe. They are not bad enough males to be beyond redemption in Lina’s eyes. Perhaps she might choose to place them in dreams one sunset.
Nineteen new females for the tribe. A blessing beyond measure.
And it is still not enough.
As the night rolls in, Larzon and Olfran head off on their patrols and Jaskry and his family retire for the evening. Anghar and Paskar also retire, tired after the long days of travelling. Brooks and Maldek claim tiredness also, but I suspect it is something else that drives them early to their bed.
As our numbers dwindle to a less intimidating count, Lorna and Liv go in to the Mercenia hut to look for my Angie, hoping they can draw her out and introduce her to some of the tribe before everyone else arrives tomorrow. They return a short while later without her.
“We think she is sleeping,” Lorna says. “We no hearing her. Door closed.”
“You cannot hear her in her room?” I ask, more because Lorna likes to improve her speaking than because I cannot understand what she is trying to say.
“Yes,” Lorna says, smiling at me. “Cannot hear her. So… asleep.”
“Asleep again, after nineteen seasons sleeping?”
Lorna’s nose wrinkles. “Frozen sleep not the same as night sleep. And Angie heartspace…” She hesitates as she searches for the right word. “Big. Busy. Feel much.”
She gives a little shrug.
“You mean to say that she has many emotions to deal with?”
“Yes. Emotions. Make tired.”
I can understand this. Many of the females have had to deal with big emotions since learning they are stuck here in Lina’s forest. It is a better place for them - they would all agree to that now - but losing the life you have known, or expected to have, isstill something that requires a certain amount of grieving. And grief is tiring. Raskarrans know this very well.
I scratch at my fingers.
“Perhaps when more females are woken tomorrow, they can find solace in each other. Easier to go through a thing when you do not have to do so alone,” I say.
Lorna nods. “I think yes. Help me to have sisters. To have Shemza.”
Her eyes go soft as she glances in the direction of her mate. As if he senses her gaze, Shemza turns, meeting it. The strength of the connection between the two of them is such that it feels like a physical thing. I glance towards the Mercenia hut, feeling nothing yet but a quiet sense of longing. A bond that wants to form but has not had the chance to yet.
“Has Angie been spoken to of the dreamspace?” I ask.
Lorna grimaces. “No. No time.”
No opportunity, I think she means, the limits of her vocabulary restricting her ability to express herself.
“We need to organise a watch,” Shemza says, coming over. “We would not want Angie to slip past us in the night.”
