Page 41 of Moonless

I take the first cut toward the food cache. The hide shifts behind me, and I turn back and take a smaller piece out of her good hand.

“That weighed less than my breakfast.”

I lay it across the cut I’m already carrying.

She follows me to the hearth when I return for the rest. Her collar has slipped on the injured side, and I can see the top of the wrapping. She catches me looking.

I bring the water jug closer to where she’s standing. She leaves it there and goes back to the pallet.

The daylight thins while the fresh meat cooks. She’s quieter than she was yesterday. Once I turn and find her gaze on the bare line across my left ribs, and it moves to my face instead of away.

She can look.

I put another piece of wood beneath the pot.

By the time supper’s ready, she’s sitting with her feet tucked under the new fur. I offer her the bowl, and she takes it without help.

“Thank you, Princess Fluffykins.”

I keep hold of the rim. A growl starts in my chest and carries down my arm into the bowl, and her fingers tighten on the far side.

She looks up at me. “You can let go.”

I release it and straighten. One ear has flattened before I reach the hearth. “You’re running short of names.”

“I’ve got plenty. That one’s new.”

I believe her.

I fill my own bowl and sit across from her.

She eats a mouthful, watching me over the spoon. I keep both ears forward until she looks down again.

For a while, there’s only the fire and the scrape of our spoons. Then she tries to separate a piece of meat against the side of the bowl, holding her left arm close. “Is this the deer you brought home, Princess Fluffykins?”

“Yes.”

“And is the rest for tomorrow, or are you expecting me to grow?”

I go on eating. “It keeps.”

“So do I, apparently.” She gets the meat apart and eats it.

I turn my bowl between my palms, finding a cooler place to hold it. “There are roots left.”

“There are roots left for everyone I’ve ever met.”

“Do you want them?”

She holds out the bowl. “Two.”

I spoon them into her bowl and set the ladle aside. When I return the bowl, she waits until I’m looking at her.

“You’ve given me four.”

“The others are small.”

“They still count, Princess Fluffykins.”