A/N: Just for you, kuroneko. See what happens when you ask? :) Pretty please, lots of lovely reviews if you would. -DL
Chapter 6
Twitchear knelt beside the fire and stirred up the coals with a stick. Beythan, who was perched on the bed, watched him silently. The no-hair(wait, no they called themselves humans) had just woken up, and the only real hair that he had was sticking up from the top of his head in a rumpled mass. Twitchear was tempted to offer to lick it for him, to smooth it down into something resembling order. He wondered how Beythan would respond to that. Humans were such curious creatures! He still didn’t understand them much at all.
He and Beythan had spent the last seven rising and fallings of the sun learning to communicate with each other. The human still couldn’t quite speak Twitchear’s language, though he’d tried; but since he lacked a muzzle, his attempts had been pitiful indeed. But he himself had become very adept at speaking the human’s language, much to his pride and Beythan’s joy alike. The human loved the fact that he could make himself understood to Twitchear, and he’d slowly but surely poured out his story into a sympathetic ear.
Twitchear was horrified by the story that the human had told him. He’d had to learn the unfamiliar words ‘slavery’ and ‘whippings’ and ‘collar’, and it had taken a lot of work just to wrap his head around these concepts. How could the humans act this way toward each other? How could they be so cruel to their own kind? It was beyond him, and probably always would be. While he accepted the fact that it had happened, he still couldn’t fathom a species that treated each other this way.
The whip scars on Beythan’s back were healing, helped along by a daily application of the paste that the healer had given him. The human was also putting on some weight, since he’d graduated to eating real meat rather than just meat broth. Twitchear brought him food from the fire pit twice a day, and the too-thin form was slowly filling out. This fact pleased Twitchear. He felt rather as though he were caring for an exotic, hairless cub, one who was completely helpless and unable to care for itself. Beythan was a stranger in a strange land, and everything around him was unfamiliar to him. He needed Twitchear’s help just to exist here, and he could admit that it made him feel good to help and look after Beythan. The human was NOT his pet, no matter what his brother said; but he was his charge, and Twitchear intended to take the best care of Beythan that he could while the human was living among his people.
He frowned a little as he stirred the coals to life. He was thinking about one thing that Beythan had told him about - how the human slaver who’d taken him captive had used him as a vessel for his sexual urges. It had taken him some time to put two-and-two together, and realize that what the human was talking about was two males coupling. It disturbed Twitchear that this was so, because apparently the couplings between Beythan and his captor had been forced. Rape was another word that he had no familiarity with; among his people, any male that tried to force himself on a female would find himself gutted or divested of his most precious assets, by the enraged female herself most likely. It boggled his mind that a human would do something like that to another of his kind. Had they no affection or empathy for one another? What about the bonds of family, of tribe, of species? How could they be so callous toward one another? He just didn’t understand.
Twitchear hissed a sigh under his breath. It bothered him that his first intimate understanding of a male-on-male coupling was something like this - Beythan’s story had been horrifying. To think that the poor human had suffered so at the hands of one of his own kind…his sympathetic heart ached for Beythan. Well, at least he was among folk who would treat him better than his fellow humans had, and he was somewhere where he could rest and recover from his ordeal. That pleased Twitchear. He wanted Beythan to stay as long as it took for him to become healthy again, and maybe for his mind to mend enough that he wasn’t in pain all the time.
Emotional pain, not just physical. Twitchear knew, because he’d been woken up by Beythan’s screaming, thrashing nightmares every night for the last week, and he’d had to wake the human up to bring him out of them. The first few times Beythan had screamed and panicked at the sight of him, which hadn’t been pleasant for Twitchear. But now the human only looked grateful when Twitchear woke him with a touch, and he always snuggled down under the furs and went back to sleep afterward with Twitchear crouched beside him until he was deeply asleep once more.
“I’ll make us some hot herb water,” he said aloud to Beythan. “Tea. Tea, yes?”
The human smiled slightly at his slurred, hissy version of the word, but said aloud: “Yes, that’s exactly right, tea.”
Twitchear nodded in satisfaction, sticking a clay vessel full of water into the fire to let it heat up before he added the herbs. “Beyshan,” he said, because the human’s name was one of the words he had trouble pronouncing correctly.
“Yes? What is it?” the human got up and padded over barefoot to the fire pit, crouching down beside it across from Twitchear.
“I…need go…hunting,” Twitchear began seriously.
“You have to go hunting?” the human repeated, his brows gathering together anxiously. “Why?”
“Chief Redmane…he say…I can keep you, but have to feed you myself,” Twitchear explained. “Must get meat to put in place of meat we eat. You see?”
“Oh, yes. You have to replace the food I’ve eaten,” the human said slowly, though he’d wrapped his arms around himself as though he were cold. “How long will you be gone?”
Twitchear shrugged. “I not know,” he replied. “Sometimes takes long time. But you safe. No one hurt you,” he went on soothingly, because the human looked so scared and forlorn.
“I wish that I could go with you,” Beythan remarked mournfully. ’But I’d just be getting in your way, wouldn’t I? I’m not big or strong like you. I don’t have claws or fangs or anything. I’m useless,” he added with a sigh, and he looked down to conceal the moisture gathering in his blue eyes.
Twitchear felt a spurt of anxiety rush through him. He’d learned over the past week that he didn’t like dealing with the water that leaked out of his human’s eyes at all, because it meant that the human was sad or miserable about something. And Twitchear didn’t want him to be sad or miserable about ANYTHING, so the appearance of that eye water always threw him into a tizzy.
“You not useless,” he protested loudly. “You different, is all. Not useless,” he said firmly.
Beythan looked up, and a wry little smile was stretching his lips. “It’s nice of you to say that,” he said. “But I am. I’m useless. It’s all right, I can accept that. There are worse things to be than useless. Like a slave,” he said, and the pain was in the blue eyes again. The pain that made Twitchear want to curl around the little human and lick him all over until he wasn’t sad anymore. But the one time he’d tried that, Beythan had shrieked and struggled until he’d let go because his rough tongue was abrading Beythan’s tender skin…
“You no slave now,” Twitchear pointed out. “You never be slave again.”
“Thanks to you,” Beythan replied, looking at him steadily. “I can never thank you enough, Twitchear. You have been so kind to me, much kinder than my fellow humans. I wish that there was some way that I could repay you for your kindness.”
Twitchear did some twitching of other things besides his ear, feeling uncomfortable. “I help you because I want to,” he pointed out. “No need anything.”
Beythan sighed, resting his chin on his drawn up knees. “I know. It’s just…I feel so useless right now. I can’t do anything to help you or your people. I can’t hunt, or cook, or tan hides, or anything like that. I wish that I could be useful in some way; then I wouldn’t feel like I was such a burden on your tribe.”
Twitchear considered this silently. Was there anything that the puny, mostly defenseless human could do to earn his keep? He wanted to help Beythan feel better, and if finding him something he could do around the camp would do that, then Twitchear would invent a task if he had to. But what would be suitable?
Suddenly he had a brilliant idea! He jumped lithely to his feet, startling Beythan. “I be back. You wait,” he said urgently, before he trotted out of the tent and made a bee line for the tent of their resident crafter, Longscar. Longscar had once been a warrior of some fame, but a crippling injury had left him barely able to walk. After that, he’d devoted himself to being a capable crafter for the tribe, and he made all of the clay vessels and fishing nets and other things that they used in their everyday lives.
Lately, Longscar had confessed to Twitchear that he wanted to learn a skill he’d observed the no-hairs doing, I.e. basket-weaving. He’d seen the humans who lived in villages at the edge of the plains weaving reeds and long grasses into vessels that could hold food and medical supplies and all kinds of other things. Longscar wanted this useful skill for himself, but his paw-hands had proved too clumsy to be able to shape the long grasses he’d dried into anything resembling the baskets he’d seen the humans using. He was frustrated and annoyed over his failure, and had abandoned his project for the moment.
Twitchear came to his tent flap and called out: “Longscar! It’s Twitchear! May I come in?”
“Enter, kitten,” he heard Longscar’s deep rumbling voice say.
He ducked into the tent, seeing the crafter sitting cross-legged by the fire shaping a lump of clay into a vessel with his capable hands. “Good morning, Twitchear. What brings you here?” Longscar asked as he set the lump of clay down carefully in front of him and turned his attention to his unexpected visitor.
“Longscar, I know you were trying to weave the long grasses into vessels like the no-hairs use,” Twitchear began excitedly.
The crafter grimaced. “Yes, but I gave up on it. Why?”
“Because the no-hair living in my tent might know how to weave the grasses! And he’s feeling useless, so I thought we could solve two problems at once. What do you say?”
Longscar looked surprised, then pleased. “What a great idea, kitten,” he mused as he got to his feet and went over to fetch down the dried heap of long grasses that he’d been trying to use to weave baskets. “If your no-hair can do it, I’ll be very grateful to him. There you are; take those to him and find out.”
“I will, Longscar,” Twitchear took the pile and departed, leaving the crafter in a good mood. He’d been struggling with his failure at basket-weaving for some time now, and it irritated him that he hadn’t been able to make it work.
Twitchear hurried back to his tent. He ducked under the tent flap, seeing Beythan still crouched by the fire pit. The human looked up at him in surprise, his eyes taking in the heap of dried grasses. “What’s that?” he asked.
Twitchear laid them down beside him. “These for making vessels,” he explained. “You humans…make. We try to make, but not work. Maybe you can make?” he asked hopefully.
“Vessels?” Beythan repeated, picking up some of the dried grass stalks. “Like your clay pots?” he glanced at the fire, then stared at the grass once more. Finally, his eyes lit up with understanding. “Baskets! You tried to make baskets, but you couldn’t!” he said excitedly.
“Basssets? Human vessels?” Twitchear asked.
Beythan nodded eagerly, beginning to sort the grasses with nimble fingers. “My mother taught me to weave baskets,” he told Twitchear. “When I was just a boy. I can make you all the vessels you want!” he added happily.
His sudden improvement in mood made Twitchear want to preen. He’d done it! He’d made his human happy, and now Beythan wouldn’t feel useless anymore. Also, Longscar would get the vessels he wanted. Everything couldn’t have worked out better, and it was all his doing. He was really glad that he’d remembered Longscar’s obsession with basket-weaving, because now he could leave Beythan alone while he went hunting and the human wouldn’t be lonely or bored while he waited for Twitchear to come back.
Go to Next Chapter
Chapter 6
Twitchear knelt beside the fire and stirred up the coals with a stick. Beythan, who was perched on the bed, watched him silently. The no-hair(wait, no they called themselves humans) had just woken up, and the only real hair that he had was sticking up from the top of his head in a rumpled mass. Twitchear was tempted to offer to lick it for him, to smooth it down into something resembling order. He wondered how Beythan would respond to that. Humans were such curious creatures! He still didn’t understand them much at all.
He and Beythan had spent the last seven rising and fallings of the sun learning to communicate with each other. The human still couldn’t quite speak Twitchear’s language, though he’d tried; but since he lacked a muzzle, his attempts had been pitiful indeed. But he himself had become very adept at speaking the human’s language, much to his pride and Beythan’s joy alike. The human loved the fact that he could make himself understood to Twitchear, and he’d slowly but surely poured out his story into a sympathetic ear.
Twitchear was horrified by the story that the human had told him. He’d had to learn the unfamiliar words ‘slavery’ and ‘whippings’ and ‘collar’, and it had taken a lot of work just to wrap his head around these concepts. How could the humans act this way toward each other? How could they be so cruel to their own kind? It was beyond him, and probably always would be. While he accepted the fact that it had happened, he still couldn’t fathom a species that treated each other this way.
The whip scars on Beythan’s back were healing, helped along by a daily application of the paste that the healer had given him. The human was also putting on some weight, since he’d graduated to eating real meat rather than just meat broth. Twitchear brought him food from the fire pit twice a day, and the too-thin form was slowly filling out. This fact pleased Twitchear. He felt rather as though he were caring for an exotic, hairless cub, one who was completely helpless and unable to care for itself. Beythan was a stranger in a strange land, and everything around him was unfamiliar to him. He needed Twitchear’s help just to exist here, and he could admit that it made him feel good to help and look after Beythan. The human was NOT his pet, no matter what his brother said; but he was his charge, and Twitchear intended to take the best care of Beythan that he could while the human was living among his people.
He frowned a little as he stirred the coals to life. He was thinking about one thing that Beythan had told him about - how the human slaver who’d taken him captive had used him as a vessel for his sexual urges. It had taken him some time to put two-and-two together, and realize that what the human was talking about was two males coupling. It disturbed Twitchear that this was so, because apparently the couplings between Beythan and his captor had been forced. Rape was another word that he had no familiarity with; among his people, any male that tried to force himself on a female would find himself gutted or divested of his most precious assets, by the enraged female herself most likely. It boggled his mind that a human would do something like that to another of his kind. Had they no affection or empathy for one another? What about the bonds of family, of tribe, of species? How could they be so callous toward one another? He just didn’t understand.
Twitchear hissed a sigh under his breath. It bothered him that his first intimate understanding of a male-on-male coupling was something like this - Beythan’s story had been horrifying. To think that the poor human had suffered so at the hands of one of his own kind…his sympathetic heart ached for Beythan. Well, at least he was among folk who would treat him better than his fellow humans had, and he was somewhere where he could rest and recover from his ordeal. That pleased Twitchear. He wanted Beythan to stay as long as it took for him to become healthy again, and maybe for his mind to mend enough that he wasn’t in pain all the time.
Emotional pain, not just physical. Twitchear knew, because he’d been woken up by Beythan’s screaming, thrashing nightmares every night for the last week, and he’d had to wake the human up to bring him out of them. The first few times Beythan had screamed and panicked at the sight of him, which hadn’t been pleasant for Twitchear. But now the human only looked grateful when Twitchear woke him with a touch, and he always snuggled down under the furs and went back to sleep afterward with Twitchear crouched beside him until he was deeply asleep once more.
“I’ll make us some hot herb water,” he said aloud to Beythan. “Tea. Tea, yes?”
The human smiled slightly at his slurred, hissy version of the word, but said aloud: “Yes, that’s exactly right, tea.”
Twitchear nodded in satisfaction, sticking a clay vessel full of water into the fire to let it heat up before he added the herbs. “Beyshan,” he said, because the human’s name was one of the words he had trouble pronouncing correctly.
“Yes? What is it?” the human got up and padded over barefoot to the fire pit, crouching down beside it across from Twitchear.
“I…need go…hunting,” Twitchear began seriously.
“You have to go hunting?” the human repeated, his brows gathering together anxiously. “Why?”
“Chief Redmane…he say…I can keep you, but have to feed you myself,” Twitchear explained. “Must get meat to put in place of meat we eat. You see?”
“Oh, yes. You have to replace the food I’ve eaten,” the human said slowly, though he’d wrapped his arms around himself as though he were cold. “How long will you be gone?”
Twitchear shrugged. “I not know,” he replied. “Sometimes takes long time. But you safe. No one hurt you,” he went on soothingly, because the human looked so scared and forlorn.
“I wish that I could go with you,” Beythan remarked mournfully. ’But I’d just be getting in your way, wouldn’t I? I’m not big or strong like you. I don’t have claws or fangs or anything. I’m useless,” he added with a sigh, and he looked down to conceal the moisture gathering in his blue eyes.
Twitchear felt a spurt of anxiety rush through him. He’d learned over the past week that he didn’t like dealing with the water that leaked out of his human’s eyes at all, because it meant that the human was sad or miserable about something. And Twitchear didn’t want him to be sad or miserable about ANYTHING, so the appearance of that eye water always threw him into a tizzy.
“You not useless,” he protested loudly. “You different, is all. Not useless,” he said firmly.
Beythan looked up, and a wry little smile was stretching his lips. “It’s nice of you to say that,” he said. “But I am. I’m useless. It’s all right, I can accept that. There are worse things to be than useless. Like a slave,” he said, and the pain was in the blue eyes again. The pain that made Twitchear want to curl around the little human and lick him all over until he wasn’t sad anymore. But the one time he’d tried that, Beythan had shrieked and struggled until he’d let go because his rough tongue was abrading Beythan’s tender skin…
“You no slave now,” Twitchear pointed out. “You never be slave again.”
“Thanks to you,” Beythan replied, looking at him steadily. “I can never thank you enough, Twitchear. You have been so kind to me, much kinder than my fellow humans. I wish that there was some way that I could repay you for your kindness.”
Twitchear did some twitching of other things besides his ear, feeling uncomfortable. “I help you because I want to,” he pointed out. “No need anything.”
Beythan sighed, resting his chin on his drawn up knees. “I know. It’s just…I feel so useless right now. I can’t do anything to help you or your people. I can’t hunt, or cook, or tan hides, or anything like that. I wish that I could be useful in some way; then I wouldn’t feel like I was such a burden on your tribe.”
Twitchear considered this silently. Was there anything that the puny, mostly defenseless human could do to earn his keep? He wanted to help Beythan feel better, and if finding him something he could do around the camp would do that, then Twitchear would invent a task if he had to. But what would be suitable?
Suddenly he had a brilliant idea! He jumped lithely to his feet, startling Beythan. “I be back. You wait,” he said urgently, before he trotted out of the tent and made a bee line for the tent of their resident crafter, Longscar. Longscar had once been a warrior of some fame, but a crippling injury had left him barely able to walk. After that, he’d devoted himself to being a capable crafter for the tribe, and he made all of the clay vessels and fishing nets and other things that they used in their everyday lives.
Lately, Longscar had confessed to Twitchear that he wanted to learn a skill he’d observed the no-hairs doing, I.e. basket-weaving. He’d seen the humans who lived in villages at the edge of the plains weaving reeds and long grasses into vessels that could hold food and medical supplies and all kinds of other things. Longscar wanted this useful skill for himself, but his paw-hands had proved too clumsy to be able to shape the long grasses he’d dried into anything resembling the baskets he’d seen the humans using. He was frustrated and annoyed over his failure, and had abandoned his project for the moment.
Twitchear came to his tent flap and called out: “Longscar! It’s Twitchear! May I come in?”
“Enter, kitten,” he heard Longscar’s deep rumbling voice say.
He ducked into the tent, seeing the crafter sitting cross-legged by the fire shaping a lump of clay into a vessel with his capable hands. “Good morning, Twitchear. What brings you here?” Longscar asked as he set the lump of clay down carefully in front of him and turned his attention to his unexpected visitor.
“Longscar, I know you were trying to weave the long grasses into vessels like the no-hairs use,” Twitchear began excitedly.
The crafter grimaced. “Yes, but I gave up on it. Why?”
“Because the no-hair living in my tent might know how to weave the grasses! And he’s feeling useless, so I thought we could solve two problems at once. What do you say?”
Longscar looked surprised, then pleased. “What a great idea, kitten,” he mused as he got to his feet and went over to fetch down the dried heap of long grasses that he’d been trying to use to weave baskets. “If your no-hair can do it, I’ll be very grateful to him. There you are; take those to him and find out.”
“I will, Longscar,” Twitchear took the pile and departed, leaving the crafter in a good mood. He’d been struggling with his failure at basket-weaving for some time now, and it irritated him that he hadn’t been able to make it work.
Twitchear hurried back to his tent. He ducked under the tent flap, seeing Beythan still crouched by the fire pit. The human looked up at him in surprise, his eyes taking in the heap of dried grasses. “What’s that?” he asked.
Twitchear laid them down beside him. “These for making vessels,” he explained. “You humans…make. We try to make, but not work. Maybe you can make?” he asked hopefully.
“Vessels?” Beythan repeated, picking up some of the dried grass stalks. “Like your clay pots?” he glanced at the fire, then stared at the grass once more. Finally, his eyes lit up with understanding. “Baskets! You tried to make baskets, but you couldn’t!” he said excitedly.
“Basssets? Human vessels?” Twitchear asked.
Beythan nodded eagerly, beginning to sort the grasses with nimble fingers. “My mother taught me to weave baskets,” he told Twitchear. “When I was just a boy. I can make you all the vessels you want!” he added happily.
His sudden improvement in mood made Twitchear want to preen. He’d done it! He’d made his human happy, and now Beythan wouldn’t feel useless anymore. Also, Longscar would get the vessels he wanted. Everything couldn’t have worked out better, and it was all his doing. He was really glad that he’d remembered Longscar’s obsession with basket-weaving, because now he could leave Beythan alone while he went hunting and the human wouldn’t be lonely or bored while he waited for Twitchear to come back.
Go to Next Chapter