Текст книги "Surviving Skarr"

Автор книги: Ruby Dixon

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Chapter Fifteen

VIVI

Skarr doesn’t give me grief when I walk at the back of the group the next day. I just hold a blanket over my hands and he nods at me like we’re sharing a secret. He also doesn’t come and walk next to me, which I can’t decide if I’m annoyed by or not. I spend my time observing our surroundings, how the craggy mountains slope downward, giving way to flatter and flatter land. How the snows are thick here, but there are more tracks, because more people tend to come and go.

It makes me think of the tracks I saw the other day. It makes me think of my memories of my father, too, but when I try to call them up, I get nothing. I focus instead on trying to identify the tracks I see, and to determine how many different people have walked through here.

One of the blue aliens—O’jek—drops back to check on me. “Are you well, V’vian? Do you need help with anything?”

I give him a small smile. “I’m fine.”

“You walk behind the others at all times,” he points out. “I wanted to make sure you are not hiding an injury.”

I don’t tell him about my finger. “I just like the quiet.”

He nods, as if understanding. “Being around so many can be hard at times. You will be able to take your quiet when we get to the village, too, never fear. It will be more people, but they respect a hunter’s need for peace.”

Here is someone that gets it. I smile wider, nodding. “The only memories I have are really of my father, and hunting and tracking with him. I was watching the tracks in the snow to try and jog my memories. We’re near the village, then? I’ve seen a lot of tracks made by people, some small enough to be children.”

O’jek walks at my side, and I can tell he’s impressed at what I’ve picked up. “Yes, we are near the trails where the hunters bring their children to practice their skills. We should be in the village before long. You have a good eye.”

“Just matching tracks with what I know,” I say, though his praise fills me with pleasure. If nothing else, I have a few skills I can rely on. My thoughts move back to the tracks I saw last night. “Is there a creature that has paws bigger than my hand on one side, and a tail on the other?”

“A tail?”

I describe the tracks I saw last night, how the left was clearly marked but the right was nothing but drag-marks.

He looks concerned. “Were there toes in the tracks or were they rounded?”

“Toes. Definitely toes.”

“Rounded tracks or long like a sa-khui foot?”

“Rounded.”

He grunts. “This is concerning. The only thing that large would be a full-grown snow-cat, but they do not drag their tails in the snow. The only thing that would cause drag marks could be an injured leg, but an injured snow-cat is dangerous and must be taken care of. Where did you see these tracks?”

For some reason, I don’t want to tell him. Maybe it’s my injured hand, or maybe I’m just feeling strange about the fact that I’m a dumped clone, but a creature being “taken care of” when it’s just trying to survive bothers me. “Oh, it was way back,” I tell him. “At the camp where our pods were found.”

He looks relieved. “Tell me if you see the tracks again.”

“Of course.”

Snow crunches, and I’m not entirely surprised when Skarr jogs up to join us. “What are you talking about with my mate?” he demands of O’jek. “Why are you making her smile? Her smiles are for me.”

O’jek rolls his eyes at Skarr. “I have a mate, fool. I was checking on yours.”

“I don’t need checking on,” I point out. “I’m fine.”

“She’s fine,” Skarr states bluntly, glaring daggers at O’jek. “Leave her alone.”

O’jek turns to me, his expression calm. “If you see the tracks, let me know. If you require anything—speak up.”

I nod quietly, and O’jek leaves, Skarr immediately moving to my side and glowering. The big green alien matches his steps to mine, and when I don’t speak up, he finally does. “He needs to leave you alone.”

“He has a mate. He was just checking on me. He was being nice.”

“I do not want anyone being nice to my mate. She can take care of herself.” He scowls at the backs of the people ahead of us. “Did he notice your injury?”

“No.”

He lets out a sigh of relief. “Good.”

I give him a puzzled look. “It’s just a finger. I’m sure it’s not a big deal.”

But Skarr shakes his head. “In my experience, a wounded gladiator is a liability. You never let anyone know you are hurting because you can be gotten rid of in an instant.”

It’s appalling to think about, that he would conflate an injury with death. But then I think about what O’jek said about “taking care of” the snow-cat and I realize I don’t know enough about these people and our situation. I’m thinking like a human back on Earth, just like Skarr is thinking like a gladiator, and trying to keep me safe. “I hope you’re wrong.”

He flashes a smile at me. “I hope I am, too.”

Chapter Sixteen

SKARR

The beach village is full of many nosy people, just as I remember it from my brief excursion with I’rec from the other day. They are all prepared for newcomers, with a large fire blazing in the midst of the village and a feast being prepared. I am on alert, watching over my mate carefully until I see that one male limps amongst them with a false limb. He has four arms and looks strong, but if they did not get rid of him when he lost his leg, then it is safe for Vivi. I point him out to her and she nods.

But then there are people everywhere, and we are being greeted by all kinds. I lose track of Vivi as strangers greet me, and amongst them are two a’ani who claim to be gladiators as well. There is a splice here, too, though he avoids conversing with the rest of us, and the gladiators all cluster together and discuss battles. Ashtar, the big drakoni, joins in.

“I promise, there are no gladiator battles here, no contests of strength,” he says, amused at our insistence. “Sometimes we have games on the beach to celebrate, but they are silly games like catching the most fish, and everyone participates.”

“Then what is the point?” Chalath asks, clearly perturbed. “If we do not fight to show our glory, what is the point of having gladiators here?”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Vordis points out. “You were abandoned. No one cares if you are a gladiator or not. Now all you can do is survive and help the tribe. Trust me, there is life outside of the arena.”

Valmir says nothing, but his narrowed eyes say he does not quite believe this. I do not know if I believe this, either.

“And this one already resonated,” Ashtar says, grabbing me by the back of my neck and pulling me into a headlock.

I twist, trying to break out of his grasp, and slap my tail against the back of his knee. He releases me with a laugh, and I immediately shove him. And laugh, because he is grinning like the sparring pleases him. “Just because there is no arena does not mean we are helpless,” I point out. “We can remain ready for battle.”

“Oh, there are plenty of things to keep you occupied here,” Vordis agrees, arms folded as he eyes us. “You will have your hands full hunting and fishing and doing your share, trust me. There is always more that needs to be done.”

“Like finding another khui for Kyth,” Valmir says, voice sly as he looks over at the big moden splice.

Kyth just rubs his chest, grimacing.

“Not again?” I ask.

Kyth shrugs. “Sabrina says it is fading again. I will worry about it when it happens. Today is for meeting the village.”

“And impressing the females,” Chalath adds. He eyes the group by the fire, where the women are talking excitedly with the other humans and ignoring the rest of us. “Perhaps we should have more battles tomorrow to try and force resonance like you did, Skarr.”

“Force…resonance?” Thrand—the other a’ani—asks, and then snorts with amusement, elbowing the big splice named Gren. “As my mate would say, yeah right.”

“It happened,” I tell him, standing taller with pride. “I sparred with another and won, and my mate’s khui was so impressed that it immediately resonated to me.”

“Which one is your mate?” Ashtar asks.

I turn and eye the circle of women near the fire, laughing and talking and crying. Then, because I know Vivi, I keep looking. I swing my gaze beyond the fire and find her sitting on a rock at the edges of the group, alone. She has her knees hugged to her chest and her eyes are big as she listens to everyone and watches. More observing, I realize, and my chest swells with pride. She will be full of their secrets. I point at her. “My mate is the beauty right there.”

“She looks like she wants to hide,” Thrand comments.

I scowl at him and then glance at Vivi again. She does seem rather miserable, upon second glance. I remember what she said, about not knowing who she is. About her worries. It hurts me to see her like this, doubting herself and her ferocity. She is by far the most beautiful of females, tall and strong and clever. If only she realized this. I eye the males that live here on the beach. Thrand and Vordis are arguing with Chalath and Valmir about adding an arena to the village, while Kyth and Gren listen in.

Ashtar is looking at my female, though, and I nudge him out of irritation. “Quit staring at her. She is mine.”

“She reminds me of my shy flame and when I first resonated to her,” Ashtar says with a grin. “My Veronica was very meek and mild. It was adorable to see.”

Meek? Mild? My fierce warrior Vivi? Bah. He is clearly wrong. But his mate has accepted him, and mine has not. I consider this and gesture to Ashtar that I would like to speak to him in private. He nods and we walk away from the group, moving towards the roiling, unpleasant-looking mass of water that must be an ocean. I have never seen one before, and I will probably be more interested in it later, but right now my thoughts are of Vivi and resonance.

I rub my thrumming chest. When Ashtar and I are away from the others, I stop and glance back at my mate. “I am troubled and look for advice.”

“Go on.” The drakoni crosses his arms over his chest, his stance easy.

“My mate is strong-willed,” I say. “Even though her khui has decided I am the best one for her, she is not yet decided. I am trying to court her because resonance is not enough to drive her into my arms. She will not yet let me suck upon her ass and it is a very fine ass.” I eye him. “So I look to you for advice. You said your mate was like mine?”

The look he gives me is knowing. “So it was with my Veronica, yes. Resonance flustered her. It was very charming.”

“And she did not fall into your arms right away?”

He purses his lips, considering. “Well, no, she did. But she likes to pretend that she waited to fall in love with me.” His gaze moves over to the fire, to someone standing there, but I cannot tell who. All the human females—with the exception of Vivi—look the same to me. “Veronica was shy at first, but I am quite lovable and so it did not take long.”

I grunt. “My female is a warrior in spirit, even if she looks shy. She pushes me away. I do not know how to impress her if there are no gladiator battles.”

“Try wooing her,” Ashtar says. “Win her favor by showing her you care. Give her something. What do you think she wants?”

Looking over at Vivi, her shoulders are hunched. Someone is talking near her, but she looks uncomfortable and miserable. I remember all the times she clung to the back of the group, wanting no attention. “I think she would like a place to hide, if I am being honest.”

“Aha,” Ashtar says, snapping his fingers. “You could build her a home. Many of the males here built huts for their females. Humans like to have a dwelling to call their own, to have a private place where no one will bother them.”

It is a genius idea. I look around the beach, at the scatter of crude huts with animal hides stretched atop stone walls. Bah, I can easily make something like this. And I know instinctively that Vivi will like it. A private place to call her own where no one can bother her…except me, because I will surely be at her side and in her arms as she shrieks my name. “This is an excellent idea, my brother. I shall start on it now.”

“Start on it in the morning,” he says, clapping me on the back. “For tonight, we celebrate that our strange little tribe is growing.”

I scowl. “But I want to court her now. I want her to be impressed with me.”

“Then go talk to her instead of the gladiators.” Ashtar gives me a shove forward, indicating I should head to her side. “Get to know her. Listen to her needs and show her that you care about more than just her cunt.” He pauses, and then adds, “Or ass-sucking.”

“I care about more than just her cunt,” I tell him, wounded. “I care about all of her. It is all attached.”

He shakes his head at me. “Talk to her about something other than resonance, ssethri fool. Talk to her about something that shows you value her thoughts. Make conversation, flatter her, learn about her, and it will lead to the ass-sucking.” Ashtar pauses. “Though knowing my mate as I do, it is probably best if you start with kissing before you lead into the ass-sucking.”

“Kissing?” It is a word I have heard before, and it takes me a moment to place it. “The strange mouth-massages that Flor does with I’rec? And O’jek and Daisy do to each other?”

“That’s it. Humans love kissing. You can ask her to show you how…but make sure you don’t start with kissing or she will think you only want her cunt. Remember, talk about things that interest her first.”

Mmm. I consider this even as I cross the sands towards my mate.

Chapter Seventeen

VIVI

I listen to the endless chatter around the fire from a safe distance. When I start to feel overwhelmed—which doesn’t take much—I edge to the back of the group and just absorb what others are talking about. It’s not that I dislike anyone or don’t want to participate. It just feels like too much. Like someone’s going to ask something I’m not prepared to answer—like my name—and it’s better to hang back and let others handle all the conversing. It’s more comfortable that way.

Even so, I’m not surprised when Skarr approaches me, a frown on his face.

He drops onto the rocky seat next to me and eyes the fire, then eyes me again. I can see in his mind he’s calculating just how far I’m sitting from the others. I hug my legs and pretend to ignore his expression of annoyance, because I know I’m hanging back. It’s just…there’s so many strangers. I’m still getting used to our small group and now there are so many more to greet. For a shy person like me, it’s downright painful.

Skarr’s not shy, of course. He flicks his cloak back with a flamboyant gesture and leans in, all show, like he’s the prince of the beach deigning to speak to one of his subjects. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

I shake my head, even as my stomach growls loudly.

He narrows his eyes at me.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I stare back at him. How do I get him to understand that I want nothing more than to retreat from the crowd? That getting up and demanding food and drink from the laughing, merry group is beyond my capability at the moment? I freeze the moment a stranger even looks in my direction.

He grunts and gets to his feet again. “Stay here.”

As if I have anywhere else to go? If I did, I would be there already.

I watch, tensing inwardly as he moves to the fire and gets food and drink. Knowing Skarr, he could just as easily snag it for himself and then eat it in front of me with a scowl, daring me to get my own. That would absolutely be on-brand for him.

He doesn’t, though. He returns to my side, cutting through the group, and then sits next to me again, balancing the dish on his knee and indicating we should share. “Lucky for you that I am a wildly generous male,” he says. In his other hand, he holds up a skin. “I brought drink, too. They call it sah-sah.”

“Thanks.” I want to be sour at his back-patting but I’m just relieved that he’s sharing with me without forcing me to go and get my own. I pluck something that looks like a rib out of the dish and nibble on the meat. It’s so tender it falls off the bone and flavored with herbs that are both pungent and appealing at the same time. I devour it in a few quick bites and then put the bone back in the dish, reaching for a long, skinny tuber. It tastes a bit like a boiled potato, and I nibble on it, watching Skarr as I do.

He’s not eating. He’s watching me eat and holding the plate for me. I swallow the mouthful I’m on and put a hand to my mouth to cover for crumbs. “Are—are you not eating?”

“I want to make sure you’re full first. What kind of mate would I be if I ate all your food?”

Oh. I should probably point out that him getting me food doesn’t mean we’re mates now. That it doesn’t mean anything at all. But I’m exhausted and overwhelmed, and right now Skarr is what’s familiar. So I don’t say anything at all, I just keep eating.

He leans in close as I take another rib. His voice drops low. “How is your finger?”

“Better today,” I admit, flexing it a little. I’ve still got it bound to my ring finger but it doesn’t throb and ache like it did yesterday. How long do fingers take to heal? I genuinely don’t know.

“And yet you retreat from everyone?”

The reproach in his voice makes me shrink down into myself again. “It’s just…kind of overwhelming. First this planet, and then the clone thing, and now this.” Everywhere I look, there are people. There are humans wearing leathers and carrying half-alien babies, and alien men of all different shades of blues and even a few red. The beach looks as forbidding as the mountains, and the waves crash against the shore like they have a personal vendetta. Nothing about this seems inviting or homey.

We were told the camp on the beach was sheltered. Safer. This doesn’t feel safe. It looks like a primitive camp on the unfriendliest ocean ever. I don’t know what I was expecting but…not quite this.

It’s a lot to take in.

Skarr grunts, eyeing the group. He offers the waterskin to me. “Drink this. It will make you feel better.”

I take a cautious sip of the drink. It tastes like juice with a bit of a tangy kick, though I can’t tell what fruit it reminds me of. It’s good, though, and I take a bigger sip as I eat another tuber. Skarr’s still watching me, and I feel the need to explain. “I just need time to get used to everything. It’s all different than what I’m used to.”

He huffs. “Don’t I know it. Out of all these people, not a single one wants to spar. It’s downright baffling.”

His indignation strikes me as funny. I giggle around a mouthful of potato-tuber and wash it down with a sip of juice, then offer the skin to him. “You do know that fighting isn’t everything, right?”

Skarr takes a big swig of the drink, gives it a look of appreciation, and then downs another hearty gulp. He offers it back to me, and I drink a bit more, just so he won’t hog it all. “For you, it is not,” he says. “But for me, fighting is all I know.”

“Then you’re in the same situation I am,” I tell him. “Now we both have to learn how to live here. Now we’re both starting from scratch.”

He grunts, sounding as displeased as I feel.

I nudge the plate toward him as I take another rib. “Eat some. There’s plenty for both of us.”

He grins at me and leans in and takes a bite from the potato I hold in my hand. It’s a very lover-y thing to do, and I should get mad, but he grins like a mischievous child and all I can do is giggle at how ridiculous he is.

“Eat your own,” I clarify, but I’m smiling. I’m also feeling pretty good. Pretty loose. Some of my anxiety is wearing away from being around the others. I’m sure people are watching me and Skarr but I can’t find it in me to care too much. I bet the sah-sah has alcohol in it. I’ve also had enough that I no longer care, and I take another drink.

Skarr tries to take another bite of my potato, but I hand the whole thing to him and take the skin instead, drinking more of the wonderful juice. He seems to be having a great time, but then again, when is he not? He always looks eager to take on the world. I envy that. “How is it that you’re not upset?”

“Upset about what?”

I gesture at our surroundings. “At any of this. At being stranded on a planet where it snows on us all the time. I think I saw an iceberg float past in the ocean. That means it’s cold here all the time.”

He shrugs, tearing a chunk of meat off with his sharp teeth and chewing. “Why would I be upset about being on this world? Where else should I be?”

“Well, where’s home for you?”

He shrugs again. “I am a splice. I was created to be a fighter, a gladiator. I was not created to make a home.” His eyes flare with enthusiasm as he eyes me. “You are my home.”

I ignore that and focus on his earlier thoughts. “Speaking of…how is it that you’re not upset that you’re a clone? That you were made by someone in a lab somewhere and discarded?”

Skarr continues to eat, absently handing me a rib before he takes another, and we both chew as the welcoming party goes on around us. I watch him because the khui hums in my chest, and it makes his every movement fascinating. I like the way his lips brush against the meat, how his tongue snakes out to catch a droplet of grease, how his jaw clenches when he chews. He’s pretty, I realize.

He’s a jerk, but he’s pretty.

And he’s familiar, which means I don’t mind sidling a little closer to him when someone starts dancing near the fire. Sabrina pulls Kyth toward her and does a twirl, laughing as someone pulls out a drum and the antics pick up a bit. A blonde starts shaking her ass in front of a scarred blue alien, who has a baby in his arms and looks less than amused at her shenanigans, and there’s laughter everywhere. Everyone’s so happy.

It’s strange. This place is miserable, and yet they all look so very content.

I look over at Skarr again, and he’s licking his fingers. Oh. The tip of his tongue flicks out and I can’t be certain, but it might be forked. My eyes glaze over at that, and the khui in my chest hums even louder, making my breasts ache and a tingle start between my thighs. Someone said that resonance more or less drives you toward the person it wants you to mate with, and I get it. Because the more time I spend around Skarr, the less I hate him, and I don’t know if it’s resonance or reality. I do know that I’ve never shivered at the thought of a guy having a forked tongue but I’m shivering right now.

He licks his thumb with a smacking noise and tosses the bone on the plate, then glances over at me, nodding at the skin. I take another gulp and then pass it back to him. He drinks, too, and then shrugs. “I have always been.”

“Hmm?” His words don’t make sense to me, and I realize I’ve forgotten what we’re talking about. Oh. Clones.

“I do not fret over the past,” Skarr continues, gazing at the fire. “My mind is full of the present. I live in the here and now, because it might be all I get.” He shrugs and glances back to me. “I want to be the best, to get the best female, and to make the best children and make them first. Winning is all I know, and I wish to continue in triumph.”

I snatch the water skin from him, annoyed by his answer. “Is that all I am to you? A win?”

“Yes.” He pauses, eyeing me. “No. It is…not the same. It is that, but it is more than that.”

I can tell he’s confused by his own thoughts, and for some reason, I find this pleasing. I nudge him with my elbow. “Don’t strain yourself thinking.”

He snorts, watching as I take another slug from the skin. “I strain myself over nothing. It is true that you are the best female on this planet, and I am the best male, so it is natural that we should resonate and make the best babies. But…it is more than that, too.”

“In what way?”

Skarr shrugs, and it’s clear he’s unable to articulate what he’s feeling. “It just is.” He plucks another rib from the plate and holds it out to me. “You should eat more. You deserve this food as much as anyone else. Look at how much the others are eating, and you worked hard for several days as they all moped and cried. You tended the fire and gathered fuel and set up tents.”

He’s being a little unfair to the other women. If ever there was a situation that called for weeping and being paralyzed with fear, it’s this one. Even so, I’m flattered he noticed me, and I don’t know why. Usually I hate it when I get noticed, but today…I don’t mind. Maybe it’s the alcohol, because my head is definitely swimming, but I’m feeling rather flattered. “I just like staying busy.”

“Because you are smart and capable and strong,” he agrees, saying each word like a caress. “And you are allowed to eat as much as the others.”

“I’m good on food, but I wouldn’t say no to a bit more drink.” I give the near-empty waterskin a little shake.

“As my female wishes.” He gets up and speaks to someone, exchanging our empty skin for one bulging with drink. I notice a few people giving us friendly, inquisitive looks, but I’m not ready to be social just yet. I’ll stick with Skarr, because no one’s going to want his annoying ass around.

He returns with the drink and instead of sitting down next to me, pulls the empty plate from my hands and holds it enticingly. “It is noisy here. Do you want to get away for a bit?”

Magic words, because do I ever. I’ve been wanting to get away since we got here. I nod at him, and he gets to his feet and holds a hand extended down to me.

And maybe it’s the humming khui in my chest, or the fact that Skarr seems to listen to me when I’m anxious and miserable and wants to help, but the hand he holds out feels sweet and romantic. I put my good one in his, and my fingers are warmer than his. His eyes flare with appreciation as he notices this and he squeezes my hand tighter. “I am going to have to keep close to you for warmth,” he murmurs in my ear as I get to my feet. “You feel good.”

“It’s the alcohol,” I say, but I feel pretty good, too. I take another drink and stagger against him. The sah-sah tastes like juice but man, it hits hard.

“Come,” he says, with his arm around my waist to support me. “We will go somewhere quiet.”

Valmir smirks as we leave the group, but I’m feeling too loose to care. This is the first time in several days that I haven’t been beside myself with fear and doubt, and it’s all thanks to the alcohol…and Skarr.

He’s probably being nice just to get into my pants, but right now? Seems like a fair exchange.

Mentally, I picture handing my leather pants over to Skarr and him putting one heavy green leg through, and I chortle to myself.

“Perhaps you should slow down on the drink,” he says against my neck as we wobble away from the group. “I do not know how hard such things hit humans.”

“Did you get a lot of drinks as a gladiator?”

“Not many. Only when I won.”

“So you didn’t win a lot?”

“Bah, of course I did. What a foolish question.” He casts his gaze down the beach, looking for a spot. “Let us go near the string of huts along the cliffs, perhaps. I imagine it is safe there. We should avoid the water.”

“We should,” I agree. “The water is scary.”

“I have never seen this much water. Or this much ice. There is not a lot of call for ssethri splices to be taken to colder climates.”

“This place sucks,” I agree cheerfully. “You can say that, since we’re stuck here.”

“It is merely challenging, but that is why they sent the best here,” Skarr declares as we walk along the shore, a good distance from the water’s edge.

“But we’re not the best if you lose all the time—”

“Female! I did not say such a thing!” He gives me an indignant look.

I just giggle harder, like I know all of Skarr’s dirty secrets. He sure is sensitive about his winning record. If I was sober, I’d probably poke at that more. As it is, I just like the funny faces he’s making. “Someone’s cranky.”

“Someone is being insulted by the very female he is trying to impress.”

“Are you trying to impress me?” I lean back—not an easy feat given the fact that I’m leaning against him. I swivel forward and he has to put his other arm around me to ensure I don’t flop to the ground.

Skarr frowns down at me. “Of course I am. You have not realized this?”

“I just thought you were being…you know…you.”

“I am trying to impress you so that you will accept that you are my mate.” He pulls me into his arms, like we’re hugging. “And then we will breed babies together.”

Ugh. Babies. I put a hand on his face and push him away. He releases me, and I tumble backward into the sand…which makes me laugh harder.

Man, being drunk is fun.

I lie on my back and stare up at the night sky. So pretty. The sand feels soft underneath me, and I move my arms and legs back and forth, making a sand angel. Skarr thumps down next to me, sitting, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s quiet.

That’s…not like him.

I sit up, squinting my bleary eyes at him. “What’s wrong?”

Skarr watches me thoughtfully, his pretty hair floating around his face gently, like some sort of lizardy cartoon prince. “You do not want children?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I never thought about it before now. Before here.” I tilt my head, considering. “At least, that I know of. Maybe I did, but I can’t remember.”

He grunts.

I nudge him with my boot. “But you want children?”

“It was not an option I thought I would have. I would not mind it, though. I will be the best of fathers.”

“Because you’re the best at everything, right?”

My teasing words please him. Skarr smiles. “Obviously. And you will be the strongest, fiercest mother.”

I ponder this. I could be a fierce mother, sure. “Our kid would have to learn tracking. And how to build a fire.”

“And how to kiss.”

I explode into laughter, toppling onto my side. “You crazy man. I’m not going to show my kid how to kiss.”

“Why not? It is an important skill to learn, is it not? For humans?” He looks deeply concerned. “I think he would need to know.”

“Kissing is for two adults to do between them. Not for a mother and child. Those are different kinds of kisses.” I sit up, reach out and poke him in the nose. “Silly peacock.”

He gazes down at me, his bright blue eyes blazing. “So you could show me how to kiss?”

“Uh, yeah, if I wanted to.”

“Perhaps you should. I bet you are the best at it.” His eyes gleam. “In fact, I know you are the best at it.”

I know I am, too. But even drunk, I’m a little suspicious of what seems like a great (and fun) idea. “You don’t know how to kiss?”