Page 71 of Ruby
This is bad.
At this point, being separated from her will cause me endless agony. My body already considers her my mate. This heat radiating from her small body is enough to put mine at ease. However, the feeling of contentment is constantly being replaced by a fear of loss.
Although her body is covered in feathers like mine, we are not the same being. She sings a different song and is constantly looking forward. I know her wish to go home is as strong as mine. I know her home is different from mine. No matter how much I want to protect her, I don’t want to hold her back.
Just thinking of her leaving me is enough for me to feel as if my wings have been cut again. I don’t know when we’ll find Ree but once she sees her own kind…
I can’t think about that just yet. We can stay like this for a bit longer.
Her long red threads splay around her, almost as long as her body. Its vibrant colors feel mismatched in the forest, nothing matching its luster. I often catch her mumbling things to herself about it as she painstakingly tries to straighten it every morning. Although I cannot understand the meaning behind each change, it is amusing to watch.
Like she knows I’m thinking of her, she turns, making a small noise as she does. She burrows deeper into the crook of my arms, making a content sigh when she finds comfort. I reach out to stroke her head with one hand, getting my fingers stuck in the soft feathers in her hair when I do.
I keep repeating the motion as her breathing spaces out in that interesting way of her species.
***
I started awake. Her eyes widen instantly, her body tensing in response. She looks around, most likely searching for a threat but stops when she sees my face. She blinks, takes a few seconds to process before flopping back on my chest.
“Morning,” she chirps tiredly, her eyes still closed.
“Regret to wake you,” I respond, trying to lull her back to sleep.
“No regrets,” she waves me off, yawning as she rises.
Her long, threads fall to her back. She stretches, the curves of her body straightening into a long line before her body compresses once more. She picks at a few feathers covering her face, wincing as she manages to pull one out. I stop her from trying to pick out another.
“Do not pick. Will hurt.”
“They get in the way,” she responds, a twisted expression on her face.
She walks off and I follow her to the stream, barely conscious or aware. I guide her a few times with my arm when she wanders off, her head bobbing flaccidly. We finally reach the stream, and I lower her in with two hands, holding her carefully with the other two. The water is enough to wake her up, it seems, and she starts scrubbing at her body.
I contemplate whether or not to leave her like that in search of some fruits and seeds, but she catches my gaze.
“Go,” she urges. “I will be fine.”
Being familiar with how irritable she can be with no food, I make the choice of leaving her to find us something to eat that’s more palatable than the hunter food. There are a few trees in sight, bearing fruit and seeds. I pick them and move on, making sure not to stray too far from the stream. I pick a full arms worth andreturn to find her now done, washing her mouth vigorously with a branch.
She catches my gaze and tries to explain what she is doing but it’s hard to understand. I don’t question her oddities and return to our camp site with her in tow.
When I turn, there is something about her that reminds me of her old feathers… except less mean, and more intense.
“What you—” I start to sing, but then Ani steps into my space without warning.
I tense automatically, expecting a question, a challenge, another sharp remark meant to test me. Instead, she pulls me down toward her by my upper arms and presses her mouth to the side of my face.
It is brief. Warm. Soft. Her yellow lips touch the ridge just below my eye. Then she pulls back.
I remain completely still. The contact was not a strike. Not a dominance gesture. Not scent-marking. There was no bite, no pressure, no claim of territory… except, no, something about it does feel like a claim.
My pulse spikes as she watches me carefully. “That akiss.”
I blink once. “You applied your mouth to my face.”
A corner of her mouth lifts. “Yes.”
“For what purpose?”
