Page 30 of The Wild Man

I knew long before I showed myself to her after bathing she was watching me. I knew the moment she first spotted me. Even before that. I awoke that morning with an odd feeling in my stomach. I’ve learned to trust my instinct, so every move I made, every step I took, I was aware of my surroundings. I’m always aware—not being so could cost me my life in a place like this—but I was even more so because of that weird feeling.

Hours before I went to the bathing pool, I sensed another presence in the forest. I hunted for that presence until I came across the female sitting on a log with a big piece of paper spread out on the ground in front of her. She was beautiful. Long brown hair, soft looking skin, and eyes the color of tree bark.

Her body intrigued me. She was fully clothed, and I wanted to rip it all off so I could see what was underneath. The mounds on her chest and the fullness of her backside tempted me. I wanted to feel them in my palms, to run my hands over every part of her.

I watched her and took in everything I could, fighting the basic animal instinct inside me demanding I take and keep her. She was there, right in front of me.

Instead, I followed her for a while, making sure none of the deadly creatures that roamed the forest came near her. Then I set my trap. A trap I knew she would fall into, because she was there for a reason, and I was guessing I was the reason. She’s not the first to wander into my territory, but she is the first that I didn’t want to steer clear of. All the others, I left signs of life leading away from my home.

With this female, I led her to the pool of water, knowing her curiosity would have her following. The whole time she watched me bathing while I acted oblivious, I again fought my instinct to grab her, throw her on the ground, and rut between her legs like I’ve seen the wild animals do.

Having her eyes on me had the thing between my legs getting hard. It happens often, especially in the mornings. But this was different. Knowing that she watched had it growing harder than it ever had before. It felt like more than just her eyes were touching me. It was as though she was touching me.

I grabbed the thing and stroked, knowing she would continue to watch. I wanted her to. It was a part of me that I planned to push inside her like the male creatures in the wild do to female animals.

That instinct to take her grew to nearly uncontrollable levels when I finally approached her. I did lose it for a moment when I had her against the tree. Up close, enough for me to smell her scent, a scent that drove me insane.

I’ve never wanted anything more than I wanted her. Not even for Noeny and Peepa to be alive.

It only made the feeling worse when I had my lips on her and tasted her flesh. I wanted to mark her right then and there, so if any creatures came across her, they would know she’s mine. I only barely stopped myself.

But all of my control vanished when she thought she could leave. I let her believe she was there by choice, but she wasn’t. She was where I led her. She was in my home because that’s where she belonged and where she would stay. Forever. I never let go of the things I claim. And this female was my most prized possession.

I took her. I marked her flesh for all to see. I left my scent on her as a warning to all other predators. I planted my seed inside her, the first of many times to create an offspring.

This female was mine. I would protect her and our babies with my life. I would destroy anything that threatens her.

She’s mine, and nothing, not even her, would change that.

Everlee, or Ever, is what she called herself.

She twirls a small twig in her fingers, bending and twisting it until she makes a loop. She slides it over her wrist and looks down at it, her lips curving slightly, as if she likes the thing she made.

She hasn’t spoken in a while. Not since she asked me about the skulls I have where we sleep.

Mommy and Papa. That’s what she called Noeny and Peepa. My parents.

A very vague memory of me using those words slides through my mind. I barely remember what they looked like. Or what life was like before the big brown bear ate them.

Words are weird to me because I never have the need to use them. I remember some, but they feel strange coming from my lips and my voice sounds weird to my ears.

My female’s voice though… I like the sound of it. I want to hear it again.

Smoke floats up from the sticks, and I lean over to blow on them. A small fire sparks to life, so I drop some dried leaves on top to make it bigger. Once it’s big enough, I add some sticks, then some logs.

It doesn’t take long before the fire is big enough to cook the small fox I killed earlier. Grabbing one of the sticks that has a point on it, I poke it onto one of the bloody pieces of meat I have beside me before placing it over the flames.

Feeling eyes on me, I lift my head and catch the female looking at the meat. Her face looks whiter than normal. The muscle in her throat moves, like she’s swallowing over and over again. If I’m right, it looks like she’s trying to not throw up the food in her stomach.

I grab another piece of meat, watching her reaction as I stab it on another stick. She’s definitely fighting the need to throw up.

I don’t understand why she’s reacting this way. It’s like the sight of the meat is making her sick. How do her people hunt and eat? Maybe she’s not the one who handles the meat. Maybe it’s the males in her group.

My female does a lot of things that I don’t understand.

Like the thing she did with the twig. Why did she look pleased when she put it around her wrist?

Or the way her cheeks turn pink when she urinates? Every living creature does it, so why does she appear uncomfortable? Is it because I’m with her? And why does it look like she’s on the verge of running when I mark her urine with mine? Do her people not do that to mask their female’s scent to keep predators away?