Page 62 of Primal Hunger

Yet she came for me, and the realization sends a strange sensation washing through my chest and into the lower regionsof my stomach. It is an unfamiliar emotion, one I’m unable to name.

“Can you move?” Erin crawls over and reaches for my arm, ignoring my remark about her leaving. Tentatively, she places her fingers on my forearm, waiting for me to react.

My body is slow to respond. My energies are focused on healing the wounds to my flesh but without food, it will be a very slow, grueling endeavor. They wounds are too slow to knit back together. I need supplies.

I test out my legs and find them halfway unwilling to hold my weight. “I will be able to make it into the hovel, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” I grind out.

“You really have to stop calling it a hovel. It’s decent. Why not say it’s a cabin?”

Erin, unfettered and attempting levity, maintains her hold on my arm and gingerly helps me to my feet. I’m hesitant to allow her to hold my weight. If I’m not careful, I’ll crush her, and I won’t be able to do much if she’s hurt.

Not in my current condition.

“Ca-bin,” I repeat, unsure. If Erin says I live in a cabin, a cabin it shall be.

“He really did a number on you,” she adds. “Some of these scratches are really deep.”

I glance sideways at her. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You let that awful thing get the upper hand. You’re bleeding from half a dozen wounds. The ones on your back… just terrible.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

I feel the movement of my flesh with every step.

We take it slow and, once we’re over the threshold with the curtain draped back into place, my shoulders slump forward in relief. Erin helps me over to the basin still filled with her bathwater, and I drop on the stool.

My head spins, and the rest of me needs more than just a good night of rest in order to recover.

Food will be the biggest help. I’m drained, but the thought of eating Erin is banished to the farthest corners of my mind.

She refuses to release her hold on me until I’m settled and only then to stand back and consider me from top to bottom. Her hands go to her hips, presenting a mighty image of fierceness.

The little huntress, and instead of killing the beast, she’s helping him survive.

“Tell me what I need to do for you, Syros. Do you have any bandages? How do you normally clean cuts and scrapes?”

An edge of panic seeps into her voice.

I grunt, steeling myself through a fresh swell of pain. The scent of the gollilock plant still permeates the air, and the heat from the banked fire is a comfort to my bones. “Normally, I suffer through until the skin knits itself together,” I say. “That may not be an option now.”

She turns to me and taps her foot. “If you’re joking, then it must not be serious. You don’t haveanysort of bandages or gauze? No plants that work to stop the bleeding?”

“I’m not joking,” I insist. “There are precious few resources in this world. Plants like that are extremely rare, and we do not have the other things you speak of.”

“You know, the next time you go through the portal, maybe try to raid a campsite and grab a first aid kit. Or find a ranger’s station. One of them is sure to have supplies you'll need if this happens frequently.”

I shake my head, instantly regretting the motion when it impacts my dizziness. “The Ech is not frequently seen in this part of the forest. They are rare and predatory.”

“It looked like a cross between Slenderman and lizard,” she says, sounding amused. “Maybe if they had a baby with a demon.”

Clearly she’s speaking to remain calm, and I indulge her, forcing a grin. “I will have to take your word. Not only can I not see it, but I have no idea what aslendermanor alizardare.”

Erin moves over to the fire and pours fresh water from one of the pitchers into a pot. The pot is small in my palms but in hers, it is much larger than her head and it takes both hands for her to maneuver it.

“You were doing a terrible job of surviving. The sounds gave you away,” she resorts, her back turned to me. “Not to mention if it’s so rare, then what is it doing here?” Her muscles clench, her scent filled with a combination of stress and worry. For me. “Why is it coming around all of a sudden?”

“It is not because of you, if that’s what you’re thinking,” I reply with a groan. “They are constantly on the move and in search of whatever food they might find.”

---