Page 54 of Riv's Sanctuary
Glancing back toward the building he'd left the female in, Riv shoveled harder.
Despite that she’d been spending most of her time inside, he was still very aware of her presence.
Just what had Geblit been thinking, dropping her off without warning him first?
If he had known it was a female in that box—heck, if he had known it was an intelligent being, he'd have turned Geblit away, favor or not.
With an angry grunt, he piled the dung he'd shoveled in a bucket and hauled the receptacle from the tilgran enclosure.
One of the tilgrans swooped its long neck to bump its head against his back and Riv growled.
At the sound, the animal hummed softly.
"Yea, I'm angry at you too," Riv muttered, locking the enclosure behind him.
As a matter of fact, he was angry at everything.
Females were...
Poison.
The image of his mother materialized in his mind and Riv squeezed the handle on the bucket as he moved toward the fruit fields. He couldn’t quite remember what his mor looked like, just bits and pieces.
Frowning even more, he pushed the memory of her from his mind and continued walking.
The tilgran dung would make great fertilizer for the plants in the fruit field. The tilgrans were the only animals in the Sanctuary whose dung could do that. All the others was too devoid of any valuable nutrients and was only good for fire light.
Glancing behind him as he moved, he saw no sign of the female and that was good. Grot probably had her busy. He knew the tevsi wouldn't hurt her, and he wouldn’t have allowed him to.
But it seemed Grot had come to his own conclusion about the female after he'd sniffed her out and found her worthy of his trust.
So quick to trust.
Grot had clearly been on the Sanctuary's lands for far too long.
The tevsi had forgotten.
But he wouldn't forget. He'd never forget.
Not when he bore the scars to remember...not when his nights were a constant fight because the dreams would come.
It had been years but that didn't dim the pain of the events that played like videos in his mind at moments when he tried to forget or tried to rest.
It was there all the time, reminding him.
As he trudged through the fields, the tall yellow-orange grass swaying around him, the serenity of his surroundings was the only thing that helped calm him.
It was why he was so far out, why he stayed away from people. The calm helped.
It helped a little.
Even now, alone in the middle of nowhere, memories threatened to break through his resolve.
He could see his mor, his mother, the first woman he'd trusted...and the one who had hurt him the most. She appeared before him again like an annoying specter.
He'd been just a chid when she'd sold him and his brother for just a few credits. Apparently, that was all they'd been worth, just enough for her to buy woogli smoke so she could get her next fix and hide away from reality.
The female she'd sold them to had been a Tasqal, one of the members of an elite race that was known for its exploitation of civilizations and beings young and old alike. That's who his own mother had sold him to—as a chid!