Page 55 of Riv's Sanctuary
A phekking Tasqal.
Everyone knew Tasqals were vile creatures and his own mor had sold him to one.
He’d been hardly old enough to fend for himself, much less Sohut.
The memory of those first few nights in the pits mining precious metals came back to him hard and he tried to focus on spreading the tilgran waste over the roots of his plants.
The pits had been bad. A network of dark, damp, caverns filled with the stink of excrement and sex. No adult, much less chid, should have been sent to work in such conditions.
But even then it was better than working for the Tasqal female above ground. She'd have wanted him and Sohut in her bed. He'd known the only reason they'd been thrown in the pits to dig was because they'd been too young to fill her gaping cunt.
It was a horrible realization for a chid and an even more horrible one for a chid to live with.
He'd kept it from his brother—kept most of the bad things away.
At least, he'd tried.
Just as he did then, he had to work and focus. He couldn't let the past consume him.
Work. Focus.
He put the last of the tilgran waste along the roots of the plants and lifted his gaze to the pink sky.
He needed to get back to his animals.
It was the only thing that would push the memories away.
The animals always needed tending to, and that helped. It helped to keep his mind off things.
It gave him peace and quiet in his own head.
He loved the serenity…the solitude.
It was his and he owned it in his own space.
Nothing could take that away from him.
“Doo yoo need en-nee help?”
Riv closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Nothing except that.
* * *
She could hear him inhale deeply, even as his shoulders stiffened.
Damn.
It was very clear he disliked her presence.
After he'd left her in the barn with the huge death-dog, she'd decided to wait it out there but then she was pretty sure he was probably going to leave her there if she let him.
She'd finally found him a long way off from the buildings in a field with large trees that looked laden with red and orange fruit. As she neared the trees, she realized the "fruit" had thick fur. They were the shape of peaches, some with fur redder than others, some with fur more orange than others, and some with fur that had a balance of both colors.
He'd been shoveling some soft purple mush onto the roots of the trees, moving along the line as he did, unaware of her approach.
She hadn't meant to creep up on him but having no shoes, her steps had practically been silent on the soft ground.