Page 77 of Lorran
As he divided up their portions, setting aside the best cut for his mate, he regaled his audience with their hunting adventure. His mate sat nearby, staring at the fire and not contributing. Odd. The more he praised her, trying to rouse her playful nature, the more withdrawn she seemed.
Caldar seemed far too interested, casting his covetous eyes at Wyn, and Mikah stared at her, like he could not imagine a Terran operating a Mahdfel rifle.
“You’re a hunter,” Mikah said, his voice incredulous, as he rudely stared at Wyn. If she were Mahdfel, such behavior would be a challenge.
Wyn did not let such rudeness bother her. “I went hunting with my dad,” she explained, “but we usually caught little things like rabbits.”
“What is a rabbit?” Mikah asked.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing grease. “Um, a small furry mammal. Burrows underground.”
“Are they dangerous?” The youth’s interest peaked.
“Only to vegetables,” she answered with amusement.
Mikah pulled a face. “So not a dangerous animal to hunt. A prey animal.” Disdain dripped in his voice.
Lorran had never felt a violent impulse toward a child before, but he felt it now for the snotty, judgmental youth and his parent who sat by and said nothing. He ignored the impulse that wanted to ask how many predators the youth successfully brought down. He was a mature male, a responsible warrior, and Mikah was only six or seven years old.
Still…
“I often went hunting when I was your age,” he said in the blandest tone, because he was a mature, responsible male.
“Prey animals are for babies,” Mikah said.
Mylomon watched the youth, his expression unreadable.
Caldar said, “I once thought the same, but I was mistaken. Prey animals are a greater challenge.”
“Really?” Mikah turned his attention to the older male.
“Evolution has adapted their senses to be more alert. To catch a prey animal, who must be more silent than silence. Subtler than the subtlest difference, and more cunning than the most cunning mind. Anyone may attract the attention of a predator. It is not afraid and will charge right at you.”
The youth made wonderstruck noises, as if he had never imagined such difficulties. Lorran shifted, his body stiffening with inactivity. He glared at Caldar, not appreciating how the old male devalued his mate’s accomplishment. The beast may have charged right at Wyn, but she remained calm and kept her head. Lorran had known many grown warriors who had not behaved as coolly while staring down the snarling maw of their first kill.
“I want to hunt,” Mikah announced. “Please take me. My father said he would take me, but he did not.” The youth frowned at the fire.
Something loosened inside Lorran. He said, “My father also said he would hunt with me, but he did not. I went with my brothers.” Hunting trips often took days. Lorran spent many a night huddled around a fire with Seeran and Mene. For unknown reasons, Mene enjoyed camping in the most inclement weather. “And hunting is part of the curriculum at the Academy.”
“School?” Mikah sounded skeptical. “I do not believe you. School is boring.”
“This one,” Lorran muttered, turning his eyes to the night sky. “The Academy prepares young warriors. The venerable instructors—”
“Does it hurt to be venerable?” Mikah asked, derailing Lorran’s prepared lecture about the Academy.
“That is not what that word means,” he said.
“Oh.” Mikah’s cheeks darkened, as if shamed.
That had not been Lorran’s intention. He searched for the correct words to take back his error when his mate said, “To be fair, being venerated sounds a bit like being skewered.”
Mylomon chuckled.
Lorran gasped, half in mock shock and half genuine shock.
“What? She is amusing,” the male said.
Chapter 16
