Page 26 of His to Worship
I try my best to control my thoughts so that I might have hopes of controlling my body. Instead, I focus on the other feelings. Such as the pride and satisfaction I feel in being able to feed my mate. It is I, Kuvier, who cares for her. It is I who cooked the meat and ground the mala seeds to make her bread. It is I whose hand she takes her bites from.
When Sedona finally has her last bite and holds her hands up saying, “Stop,” I am disappointed that the moment must end.
Sedona holds out her hand to me expectantly, “Food, please.” I pass her the food, curious. Maybe I misinterpreted the word ‘stop?’ But, no, she does not continue feeding herself. Instead, she begins pulling pieces apart and holding them out to me. I eat from her hands as she did from my hands, and the moment of intimacy makes my heart swell.
After we finish, Sedona makes a happy sound and pats her soft stomach. I love the sloping lines of her body, the curves and bulges are beautiful and enticing, but this action makes me think of how she will look swollen with my kit. I feel I will love to look at that even more.
Sedona taps at my arm, drawing my attention back to her. She motions towards something near the supplies, but I do not know exactly what she is indicating. She gives a cute huff and stands, tiptoeing over and grabbing the sinew-wrapped sewing kit.
She tells me she wants to do something in her tongue, but the last word stumps me. When she references the kit, I finally gather her meaning and say the word in my language.
She nods and reasks her question. “Will you help me sew?”
“Yes, my mate.” She beams at me, and I am especially glad in this moment that I listened when my mother told me that all people should learn to sew. Many of the males, the hunters and warriors, grow without ever knowing how to mend their own tunics.
The skill has never come in so handy as it does now.
SIXTEEN
- sedona -
Kuvier stops sleeping all together in the days after Enikk joins our little encampment. It’s a point of contention between us, but he refuses to fold on the issue. And really, how much can I argue when all of our conversations are like talks between two toddlers just learning to speak?
Despite the fact that he’s learned many of my words and I’ve learned just as many if not more of his, all of our word exchanges have been surrounding what we need for survival. A conversation about jealousy and territorialism isn’t going to work with what we have in our arsenal.
So, for the past several nights, he has sat by the fire staring into the open expanse. And each morning, I wake up to him unmoved, the exhaustion etched deeper into his face. I can tell it’s starting to wear him down and he can only go so much longer like this before he truly crashes.
I think his reaction to Enikk is ridiculous. The guy is nice enough and barely even looks my way. I’d hoped that as Enikk’s disinterest in me was made more and more clear that Kuvier would calm down on that front. But it only takes a few days for me to realize that he could go like this for a while and I decide I can’t bear to watch him like this anymore. So, I devise a plan to combat this insanity.
“I wonder where Enikk and Kuvier disappear every day,” I say to Renata as I sit next to her, pulling my sewing needle in and out of the hides on my lap.
I actually do know. Kuvier had managed to convey to me that they go scavenging for things. I’m not up on the specifics, but I know at least that they always come back with those reeds for firewood or some small animal to roast over the fire.
Renata wouldn’t know this, considering she’s barely learned any of their language and spends most of her day using pieces of charcoal from the fire to draw on the wall. She’s got quite the Sistine Chapel vibe going on over there. It’s hard to tell completely, but it looks like a large forest scape.
Considering she was the one who originally suggested we do recon on this new species of being, she’s doing a terrible job. In fact, much of the spirit and fire that had swarmed in her before is gone. It’s almost painful to see the listlessness in her now, compared to the energy of the woman who refused to give up on a slave ship in the middle of space.
“Must be nice to get out of the crate so often,” she comments with some degree of jealousy in her voice.
This is exactly what I figured she’d say. For the past two days, she’d been growing more and more antsy about being stuck in one place. After I’d gotten (mostly) over the hurt of her comment about my ‘wiles’ and ‘seduction’ of Kuvier, we’d started talking again. I’d learned she was a private investigator and a bounty hunter back on Earth. Naturally a busy body and a workaholic, sitting in a small space for so long has been slowly driving her insane.
“You know you could probably go with them.” Her eyes snap to me, widening. I shrug, feigning calm as I pull the needle and thread taut.
Back on Earth, I learned to sew quilts from my great grandmother. This is harder, but similar, and while my work is way shoddier than whoever created Kuvier and Enikk’s clothes, the pants I’m working on aren’t terrible. I already completed a large tunic for Renata, which she wears. I’m working on items for all the girls. We’ve agreed to wait to wake them up until we have enough supplies and clothing for everyone.
“As much as I am going stir crazy, I don’t know about being stuck with Enikk and Kuvier at the same time,” she rebuttals.
While she’s relaxed around them to an extent, she’s still tense whenever one of them gets too close. Maybe I should be more hesitant like her, but it is hard to keep my defenses up where Kuvier is concerned.
“I could tell Kuvier to stay,” I offer casually as if I just thought of the idea. “Enikk would probably be better company for you anyway. He’s less surly, and he hasn’t been super weird and stare-y anymore.”
“He did completely stop with the whole stalker vibe,” she concedes thoughtfully. Something shifted in Enikk. Gone are the stares and creepy following that he’d done before. What he’d been waiting so expectantly for either came and went or never happened. Whatever the case, he’s seemingly lost his special interest in Renata.
“Yeah, it would probably be easy enough to make happen, but I mean, I love having you stuck with me day in and day out.” I flash her a bright smile. “What’s another day in here, right?”
She considers it for a long moment. “Do you think you could get Kuvier to give me that big ass curved knife he gave you that one time?” I push down the satisfaction at knowing I’ve convinced her.
“Almost definitely.”