Chapter 12

There were too many thoughts crowding Dharsha's mind to allow easy sleep. Odd, that when he'd been under the woodsmen's care, only pain and discomfort had curbed his slumber. He had reverted very much to the state of mind of the animal they had thought he was, living from moment to moment with no inclination for deep thought. Now that he was free of them, he could not stop himself from dwelling on all manner of things. Troublesome things.

Not least among them, fear that the trapper would abandon him as soon as they were far safe from the woodsmen's reach. And here in this snowy, mountainous land, Dharsha thought he would die. Granted, neko hunters were a solitary lot, but then Dharsha was not a neko hunter. Dharsha had never left the protection of the clan, other than that one fateful time, never gone through the rites of passage that would prove him a neko male capable of surviving on his own in the great wilds. Perhaps he never would have, always staying protected within the family, dedicating his life instead to clan based things like so many of the smaller, weaker males. No shame there. If a neko were not physically capable of competing with his fiercer brethren it was the way things were meant to be. He would not be reviled for it, simply shown another path. He had two brothers who were artisans and a great uncle who was a clan taleteller of great repute. He'd heard his mother and his aunts discussing of him, the hope for a similar path.

But he, as young cubs tended to wish for, had dreamed of becoming a hunter. A dominant male with claws longer and teeth sharper and mane fuller than any clan bound male that spent his life in the company of females.

No neko hunter would have allowed himself to be subjected to the things Dharsha had endured, though. A neko hunter would have ripped the throats out and fed on the guts of those miserable human men with their blunt teeth and soft fingers. Dharsha had simply let it happen. And that was a shame almost greater than he could bear. That and the fear that this human hunter that had saved him, though blunt toothed and soft fingered, was still hunter enough to have little patience with the ineptness of a neko clan male.

Dharsha listened to Caled's even breathing as he slept; to the dog's whimpers as she twitched by their feet, chasing dream game. The horses outside were quiet, shifting together to share warmth, just as Dharsha lay close to Caled under a shared fur in the same pursuit. There was silence beyond, snow muffled and huge. But beneath it lay the very subtle sounds of life. He concentrated and heard the rustling of some small forest animal, rooting in the snow. The flap of an owl's wings as it swooped down and proved itself the predominant hunter of night. The fall of the very snow itself, if he concentrated enough. Not a sound, he thought that even a neko hunter of great repute could claim to have heard, the warm jungles of home.

He shut his eyes and breathed in the man's scent. Honest sweat mixed with the smell of dog and horse and leather. Pungent compared to the scent of a neko, but not unpleasant. Not the acrid stench that had wafted about the woodsmen. He shivered and buried closer and Caled murmured in his sleep, shifting to accommodate him. The dog lay dead to the world, limp and snoring and half draped across their legs.

She was a better hunter than Dharsha. More of a benefit by far than he to the trapper as she'd proved with the mama boar. Dharsha was nothing but an impediment and soon enough Caled's patience would dwindle and then Dharsha would be alone. Abandoned.

He had one skill though, and the woodsmen had instructed him well in it. A man alone in the mountains might appreciate him for it. A man alone in the mountains might have saved him with that reason in the back of his mind. As much as he might cringe at the thought of touching another living thing intimately - - or Spirit's forbid being touched by one again - - he was well used to swallowing disgust and making the sacrifice. And Caled was not so terrible to look at. Not so terrible to lie beside, as comforting even as a clanmate, when he was at rest. And Dharsha needed more than anything, the comfort of clan.

He would do what needed doing, to ensure his welcome.

Sleep eventually came, but it was fitful. He woke when the dog woke, momentarily frozen at the canine scent before he realized it was not the same scent as the dog at the cabin. He relaxed as she rose, slinking out of the shelter to do her business in the wood beyond. He heard the muffled sounds of her rustling through snow-covered brush afterwards, rooting about perhaps, for her breakfast.

The light of early morning filtered through the hide and bramble of the lean-to and breath frosted faintly in the air before his face. But it was warm beneath the furs, close against the heat of Caled's body.

He felt Caled stir, felt the quickening of his body as he drifted up out of sleep. There was beneath the furs the indication of early morning arousal. Dharsha was well used to the woodcutters drowsily summoning him to take care of similar occurrences. He pushed back the trickle of bile that came with the memory of those occasions and reminded himself that this was a different man entirely. That this man's good will was something he craved as much as freedom itself.

Already his hand lay upon the flat plane of Caled's stomach in the innocence of sleep. It was only a matter of sliding it down, beneath the folds of loosened trousers where warm flesh dwelled. Smooth flesh, with only a thin trail of hair leading down from the trapper's navel, to the thicker thatch that surrounded the base of his erection. And that was warm and solid under Dharsha's hand. A comfortable heft that throbbed with the beat of Caled's pulse.

The trapper breathed out, a muttered moan escaping his lips and arched into Dharsha's touch. His hand moved down, covering Dharsha's from the outside of his trousers, pressing the length of his cock against his belly.

Dharsha swallowed, feeling the ghost of his own organ stirring, surprised that it could after the recent punishment to that area. Surprised that it could, considering - - everything. But Caled stiffened before that ghost could become a whisper, hand stilling, breath catching as awareness chased away sleep.

"Gods - - " he hissed, and jerked his hand away, jerked his body, scooting backwards as much as a man could under the tangle of covers in the cramped space of a tiny shelter. "What are you - -? Gods - -"

The trapper thrust furs away, face reddening, crawling outside into morning chill, evidence of arousal still straining his pants. He stomped into the snow, muttering under his breath and Dharsha cringed, drowning in the sudden realization of his terrible mistake.

He'd thought - - he'd truly thought - - that this would be expected of him. That this might be appreciated. That it had not was apparent and he rather wanted to melt away in the snow. The embarrassment he felt at that moment was greater than any he'd felt for any of the awful things he had been made to endure - - to perform - - for the woodsmen. Or at least, in the here and now of the moment, shame fresh and hot upon his skin, it felt that way.

He raked hands through his hair, tugging at flattened ears, trying through will alone to turn back time and erase the blunder. But of course, time trudged on, Dharsha holding no such power.

There was nothing to do, but venture outside. Cowering here like a cub still nursing at his mother's tit would gain him no advantage. He took a breath, forced his ears up, and crawled out into the snow.

Whiteness momentarily blinded him and he squinted a moment while his pupils contracted and vision adjusted. The horses stood where they'd tethered them, a dusting of snow on thick pelts, the both of them eyeing Dharsha with patient equine expectancy. Caled was nowhere in sight, but Dharsha heard him in the woods not far away, heard the dog's more energetic movements.

He took another breath, a cloud of mist forming before his mouth as he exhaled and sat about clearing new snow off the cold remains of last night's fire. He gathered fresh kindling and had the beginnings of a fire crackling by the time the trapper returned to camp, the dog on his heels.

Caled stopped, bare hand on the powder-dusted bark of a young tree, clearly uncertain. Dharsha had never seen uncertainty on this particular man's face and he cast his attention firmly on the feeding of the fire, ears wanting very dearly to flatten against his skull.

The dog, having no care for the discomfiture between neko and human, trotted into the camp, nosing Dharsha briefly, before she went to inspect the horses, both of which seemed well used to the guardianship of a dog. Caled moved towards them as well, retrieving packs suspended safely from tree limbs and portioning out grain for the both of them.

The silence was torturous and Dharsha had no stomach for it.

He clenched his fists and whispered. "I'm sorry. I thought - -"

"You thought wrong," Caled snapped not turning, fingers digging into the horse's thick winter pelt.

Dharsha flinched as though struck. It felt as if a blow had hit. But, the trapper sighed then, a heavy sound, a put upon one, thick lashes flush against cheeks pale with cold as he turned.

"I expect no payment from you," he said finally, choosing his words, looking up at Dharsha with those very blue eyes. "Not of that sort. Just don't hinder me and that will be thanks enough."

Dharsha stared, trying to comprehend this man's generosity, when every other human he'd encountered in this land had expected more of him than he'd ever been willing to freely give.

He nodded silently, warily.

"We'll speak no more of it." Caled said, nodding to himself as if he needed to confirm the decision to himself.

He was true to his word, going about the making of breakfast as if no mortifying mistake had been made. Melted snow heated for bitter tea and thin strips of boar roasted over Dharsha's fire.

They cleaned up in silence afterwards. Caled instructing Dharsha to cover the fire pit with snow while he sat about bundling supplies and preparing the horses. He handed Dharsha the reins and set him in a direction, while he obscured trace of their passage in the snow, wiping their tracks away with a leafy branch.

The silence continued as they walked heading always higher, into the mountains. Caled led the way, tromping through snow that sometimes drifted thigh high, while Dharsha trailed behind, taking advantage of the path cut by man and beast. Even through the boots Caled had fashioned for him, his feet numbed with cold. He thought he might hate snow.

They stopped near noon, drinking frigid water from a small running brook. Caled passed him a strip of cold meat, cooked that morning and they leaned against trees, chewing silently. They finished and too soon, were on the trail again. Or whatever path Caled followed, for Dharsha saw no trail to speak of. But then, the snow obscured everything save tracks freshly made.

"When does the snow go away?" he broke the morning long silence, finally, desperate to know the answer, and hoping that it was not 'never'.

Caled walked for a while without answering, and Dharsha feared that he wouldn't, holding grudges that he'd promised not to, but eventually he asked a question of his own.

"It's summer year long in your land, no?"

Dharsha thought about that. There were hot seasons and then there were hotter seasons and then hot seasons when it rained non-stop it seemed. Things bloomed year round. There was never the need for heavy coats and gloves and boots to keep one's extremities from freezing off.

"Its never cold. Sometimes the nights are cool after the rains come. Comfortable cool. Not this. When I came here - - on the ship - - it was warm too."

Caled was silent for a while, then he ventured. "You landed in Albarak, I'd imagine, and that's far enough south to enjoy warmer climates than these parts. This is a vast land, far larger than your own, if one can trust the maps. Warm lands to the south, cooler climes to the north. Beyond these very mountains lie deserts and beyond those endless plains lands."

"You've traveled all of that?" Dharsha asked in awe, only ever having heard of such a thing as a 'desert' in the tales of travelers.

"No. But there was a time when I indulged in a great deal of reading." Caled sounded wistful, and it had the edge of bitterness to it. It was hard to see his face past the hood of his jacket.

Dharsha stopped trying when the man hunched his shoulders, burrowing himself deeper in the folds of his coat. He fell back, where the walking was easier through already trodden snow, thinking about books and wondering that a man might grieve the loss of them. The neko had very little need for written language; histories handed down on the tongues of taletellers.

The Lady had had books. She had spent hours reading, eyes darting over tiny scribbled symbols that had no meaning to him, as lost to the world they told as neko children around the fire under the spell of a particuarly adept taleteller. He frowned, ears flattening of their own accord as he recalled her callous disregard. The distant interest in her eyes as she'd watched his abuse at the hands of the woodsmen that last time. He curled his fingers, stretching claws, and something strange curled in his gut that he had never before felt. A taut yearning for the taste of warm blood. For the feel of prey going down beneath him.

The packhorse shied away a little, eyeing him with white-rimmed eyes and he stumbled, coming back to himself. He stood for a moment, heart pounding, blood rushing in a way that felt good for a change, in a way that had nothing to do with fear, then moved to catch up.