Page 140 of Beasts of Mine

“That could describe most of humanity.” I murmured to the jacamar while adjusting the focus, pressing the shutter when it finally angled its body away from an inconvenient twig.

Too many, the jacamar decided, feathers flicking along its back as the shutter clicked several more times.

“What?” I asked Tavian when his quiet laugh reached me from behind, keeping my eye against the viewfinder while I waited for the bird to turn its head toward the light again.

“You argue with birds exactly the same way you argue with me.” Tavian leaned one shoulder against a nearby tree, careful to keep his body out of my frame while amusement warmed his voice.

“That should concern you.” I checked another angle through the viewfinder, shifting my knee when the root beneath me started digging into my leg.

“It makes me feel included.” Tavian replied with unmistakable satisfaction, apparently taking the comparison as a compliment.

Spotted thing, the jacamar complained as it launched from the branch and disappeared through the trees, its wings making a brief sharp sound against the humid air.

I lowered the camera and checked the frames while Tavian pushed away from the trunk. One image was excellent—not cover-worthy, but sharp enough that I marked it for later and enlarged it to check the fine detail around the bird’s eye.

“What did it call me?” Tavian asked as he stepped closer, leaning toward the display without touching the camera.

“Spotted.” I answered Tavian as I shifted the screen toward him, keeping one hand securely around the camera body while he examined the photograph.

“That’s fair.” Tavian nodded thoughtfully before studying the image for another second. “Good?”

“Very. The light caught the breast without blowing out the background.” I pointed toward the darker area of foliage behind the bird, showing Tavian how the contrast separated the jacamar from the vegetation.

“And that’s good.” Tavian studied the photograph with more concentration than I expected, following my finger between the bird and the blurred leaves instead of pretending he understood something he didn’t.

“Yes.” I nodded as I returned the camera to myself, pleased that he was actually trying to follow the explanation.

“Then I found you a useful bird.” Tavian straightened with obvious pride.

“You did not personally arrange the bird.” I gave Tavian a skeptical look while slipping the camera strap securely back over my shoulder.

“You can’t prove that.” Tavian spread his hands, completely serious for half a second, and I started walking before he could develop the argument any further. The waterfall could be heard long before we reached it. At first, it was only a low rush beneath insects and birds, easy to mistake for wind moving through dense leaves. The sound steadily deepened as the trail curved downward through thicker vegetation, broad leaves shining with trapped moisture while Tavian moved farther ahead of me.

“Careful here.” Tavian stepped onto a section of exposed rock darkened by spray before turning to offer his hand, testing his footing by shifting his weight once before allowing me to follow.

“I thought you said this was a useful photography location, not an attempt to break my neck.” I took Tavian’s hand while testing the rock with one boot before committing my weight, feeling fine mist settle against my forearms as we moved closer to the falls.

“Both can be true.” Tavian steadied me across the slickest section, his free hand hovering near my elbow without actually grabbing me.

“That is not reassuring.” I muttered while concentrating on staying upright, and Tavian laughed but didn’t release my hand until both of my boots were back on secure ground.

The waterfall came into view through the trees a moment later, and I stopped without meaning to. Water spilled over a dark stone ledge nearly three stories above us, breaking into white spray before dropping into a broad pool ringed by moss-covered rock, enormous ferns, and tangled roots that disappeared into the bank. The pool narrowed into a stream at the far end before vanishing beneath dense vegetation. Sunlight reached one side of the water through an opening in the canopy, turning the drifting spray silver while the shaded bank remained dark enough that anything moving through it would stand out beautifully.

The constant rush of water softened every other sound without erasing it. Bird calls still drifted down from the higher canopy, insects buzzed around the plants nearest the pool, and something small rustled through the leaf litter on the opposite bank before disappearing beneath a broad fern. Fine droplets gathered along my forearms from the mist while I studied the bank, already seeing several promising positions for photographs.

“Useful?” Tavian asked when I finally turned toward him, rocking back slightly on his heels with the unbearably pleased look of a man who already knew the answer.

“I hate when you’re right.” I adjusted my camera strap while surveying the light and mentally cataloging possible angles, although the excitement already building made the complaint less convincing.

“You should get used to it.” Tavian crossed his arms with obnoxious satisfaction.

“I absolutely will not.” I headed toward the water before Tavian could become any smugger, listening to his laughter follow me beneath the steady roar of the falls.

The location was better than useful, with animal tracks crowding the damp soil along the far edge of the pool and several overlapping in a way that suggested the water was regularly used. Birds moved constantly through the canopy, and a large green iguana lay stretched along a branch warmed by one of the few patches of direct sunlight.

Too wet, the iguana complained from the branch as it opened one eye and looked toward the waterfall, its claws curled lazily around the bark.

“You are beside a waterfall,” I whispered to the iguana while lifting my camera, crouching low enough that the animal remained framed against leaves instead of the bright sky beyond the canopy.