Steph's Outcast - Page 8

I scowl at the female, watching her. I do not like that she has tricked us. Perhaps she hid behind the rocks, waiting for us to arrive so she can babble more of her words at us and try to entice us into giving up the rules we live by.

It is the soft female, the one whose scent is all over the basket every time we check it. I wait for her to speak, but she only touches her mouth and shakes her head, indicating she will not. She knows we are not to speak to her, then. At least she understands the rules if the others do not. I watch her, wary, and keep my hand tight on Pak.

She thinks for a moment, licking her lips, and I notice that her tongue is bright pink as it darts out to swipe at her mouth. I do not know why that fascinates me so, or that her lips look soft and inviting. Her mane blows in the wind and she pushes it behind her ears, then gestures at the basket, tapping at it. Then she points at us and smiles, a look of excitement in her eyes.

I push Pak behind me, but he is silent. He knows he is not to talk to her.

The excitement in her eyes dies a little. She does not give up, though. Instead, she takes the basket and pulls out something that is wrapped in a soft, supple leather. Carefully, she peels the leather back, revealing what is cradled carefully inside—two more of the decorated eggs.

Pak's little hand squeezes mine tightly.

She looks at us, uncertain, and indicates that they are for us. When we do not move toward her, she gently sets the eggs down on the rock and makes an “eating” pantomime with her hands. They are food.

"Papa?" Pak whispers.

It is on the tip of my tongue to say no. That we do not need their food. That we do not need their eggs or their colors or anything from them. But my stomach growls, and I am reminded we have caught nothing this day. That our bellies are empty, and however hungry I am, Pak will be much, much hungrier.

Perhaps I am weak, because I do not like the thought of my small son going to bed with an empty belly, not when there is food nearby. I turn my back to the female and crouch down in front of Pak, looking him in the eye.

"You may go eat one," I say softly. "Just one for now. We will save the others for later."

His face blossoms with delight and he nods. Shyly, he peeks around my legs back at the female, who still waits by the rock. She smiles, all bright square teeth and pink mouth, and gestures at the food. Pak's tail flicks and then he trots forward, setting his egg down by the others. He admires the colors, as if trying to decide which one to eat. I fight back a smile. They will all taste like egg inside anyhow. Finally he selects one, then taps it carefully against the rock and raises it to his mouth to suck free of the shell. Wonder frames his face and he looks over at me in surprise. "Papa, it's hard!"

"Bohl," the female blurts out.

Pak skitters back to me, uncertain.

She clasps a hand over her mouth, grimacing, and it is clear she did not mean to speak. Watching us, she picks up one of the decorated eggs, then taps it lightly against the smooth surface of the rock, cracking the shell in a dozen spots. She raises it high again, showing us, and then begins to peel the shell off, revealing a smooth, white shape underneath. She takes a tiny bite and then holds the rest out to me, waiting.

She is showing us how to eat it.

Pak tugs on my belt. "That one must be for you, Papa," he whispers.

"Hsst." We do not speak to the other clans. That is one of the rules. Pak gives my hip a pat, indicating he understands. I stare at the female, eyes narrowed, and watch her.

She simply continues to hold the egg out, waiting. I do not know what to do. I am hungry, but if I take it, will she think we are suddenly in their clan? Will she fling more food at us?

Is that such a bad thing, my empty belly asks.

Because an egg cannot be put back in its shell, it seems wasteful to leave it. I take a step forward, Pak clinging to my thigh, and then another. Her expression brightens, but she does not move. She remains still, her mouth pursed as if she is determined to stop words from spilling out.

I take the egg from her and shove it into my mouth whole. It is thick and gummy this way, but…still delicious.

Tags: Ruby Dixon Science Fiction
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