Page 3 of Tiger's Trek
“No. I don’t,” he said, screwing up his face in deep thought. “I do have many nieces though. And I’ve strung many instruments in my day. It’s not a difficult thing when you’re working with fine material.”
Danik hadn’t called her hair beautiful or compared it to the sun like other men or prospective suitors, and somehow that made the compliment feel deeper and more genuine. She also liked the fact that he didn’t stand there mooning over her afterward to see if his words had any effect. He simply turned away and continued on as if he had no interest whatsoever in the result. Such a thing made her respect him all the more.
Of course, there was another possibility... she mused. There was a chance he didn’t mean it to be a compliment at all. Perhaps he was referencing the fabric of her dress and not her hair. Or it was more likely that he’d just simply forgotten she existed again. But Veru didn’t think so. She had felt the slight hesitation as he drew his fingertips away from her hair, and she was very familiar with the fine quality of it, having used it to her advantage many times in the past, despite her frequent threats to her sister to hack it off with her knives.
Despite his memory loss, it was clear Danik felt comfortable with her. His shoulders were relaxed, and he seemed like himself even if he couldn’t recall certain details of his life. He also seemed to retain his tracking skills. When she pointed out signs of a trail, he knelt and easily picked up the path someone had made through the trees, spotting broken twigs, slight impressions, or plucked berries she would have missed.
At least he possessed something useful. Without her knives, claws, or armor, what good was having a memory? She was almost jealous of his constant mind resets.
When he again asked her who she was, which she calculated happened about once every twenty minutes or so, she wondered if there was a trigger or if it was happening automatically. She began paying attention to verbal cues in the conversation and wondered if singing would indeed help him retain more information.
“I miss my home too,” Veru admitted, after a few moments of silent tracking.
“You do?” he asked, turning to her. “Are you lost like me?”
“I am.”
“What’s your name?”
“Veru.”
Danik smiled and bowed. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.”
“Thank you.” Veru grinned this time instead of taking her usual offense, especially knowing he would forget her in the next few moments anyway. “Since we’re both lost, you can sing, if you like. It might help us find our way.”
“All right.”
As the pair walked on, Danik began to hum and then sing. It was a haunting song of passing, one Veru remembered he’d written for his own parents. It reminded her of the loss of her own mother. Tears pricked her eyes. When Danik noticed, he stopped abruptly. “There now, kotenok. I didn’t mean to cause you pain.”
Taking her arm, Danik turned Veru toward him gently and swept a tear from her cheek. The gesture was tender and sweet, not at all groping and needy like the men who’d tried to touch her before. Veru didn’t feel the need to swipe at him this time. Instead, she looked into his ocean-blue eyes and felt like she wanted to sink into their mysterious depths and discover what secrets dwelled behind them.
The songhadhelped him remember. He’d called her kotenok,little kitten. There must be a part of him that remembered. But then his eyes fogged again, and Veru sighed and stepped back.
Danik cleared his throat, and only then did she realize those very eyes had drifted down her face to the gaping neckline of her dress. With her corset gone, her bosom was dangerously close to spilling out over the top of the now-too-small bodice. She could feel the heat in her cheeks. It slid down her neck until her pulse quickened as it did before battle. Her skin felt tight and warm.
“Perhaps I can help with this,” Danik said gently. “If you’ll allow me?”
Veru hesitated. It was interesting. This was the first time she ever recalled wanting a man to touch her, and yet she knew somehow that allowing it was dangerous. Not that she thought he’d hurt her. She had no fear of Danik in that way. No. What she feared was letting her guard down. Letting a man know her. As a tiger, she didn’t need to worry about it. But as a woman...
She felt vulnerable. Exposed. As if an enemy was circling, but she stood weaponless, bathed in an orb of light, unable to see him. She felt the warning thump in the uptick of her pulse and the hitch in her breath telling her to run or reach for her knives. The sensation of Danik’s presence, his offer, had suddenly changed their relationship. No longer were they friends, companions, colleagues. Now she was facing off against him, an opponent in battle. It was two warriors taking the measure of each other, scanning for strengths and weaknesses.
She was about to say no, but before she could protest, Danik spun her around and began deftly tugging at the torn laces of her dress, tying the sections one by one. Each touch was a brand, a fiery lash on her skin. The bodice tightened until it resembled something like a decent piece of clothing. Only then did she remember the carefully stitched rabbits he’d thrown down to her when she’d been stuck in the pit. He’d filled them with sleeping herbs.
“Who taught you to sew?” she managed to say, trying to distract herself as he worked at her back.
“My... my uncle,” he said after a moment.
Was that a quickening of his own breathing she heard, or was he forgetting again? “But isn’t he a hunter?” she questioned.
“Yes. But his father was a bootmaker. I apprenticed with him for a time. He always brought my family the best sinews to make strings for our instruments.”
Danik began to hum but paused when he reached the top of her dress, his fingertips resting for just a moment at the place the fabric kissed her bare skin. She could feel the fine hairs along the base of her scalp rise as if trying to reach out and touch him. Veru froze in place, wishing for the first time in her life that a manwoulddraw her closer. She longed to feel Danik wrap his arms around her waist and pull her body tightly against his, or press his lips against her neck, but just as she wished it, he was gone and walking beside her again, once more her good-natured friend.
Peeking at him from the corner of her eye, Veru could see no reflection of the inner struggle that she felt at being near him in her human form. He was still humming—a sweet, happy tune that turned into a whistle—but she couldn’t tell by his posture or his eyes if he remembered their recent encounter. Perhaps he’d already forgotten it. That was probably for the best. If she knew what was good for her, she’d forget it too.
What a curse it was, feeling an unfulfilled desire and being unable to act upon it. She suddenly felt great pity for all the men who had looked at her with lovelorn expressions over the years and her exploitation of them. It was a cruel thing she had done.
They walked for what seemed like an hour before they finally came across a small stream. Stopping, they drank deeply, and Danik agreed that it would be wise to stay close to the source of water to continue searching for her friend. Veru was surprised that he remembered they were looking for someone. Perhaps the humming helped. Danik told her that not only would they need the water, but it was logical to assume that her friend would want to stay close to it as well.
