Page 92 of Moonless

“Why?”

Kestria shrugs her good shoulder. “Some things need protecting.”

I’m not asking which. I nod, hook the lamp handle over a claw, and turn toward the water. “There’s cloth we can use.”

She follows me around the bend. “It needs to smell of me.”

“It does. From your bleeding.”

She stops beside the pool and glances at her shoulder, then up at me. “The old dressings?”

I lay a claw low on my own belly. “The other bleeding.”

She tilts her head. “The other bleeding? What are you—” Her eyes drop to my claw. “My period?” It goes up high enough to hurt.

My ears go flat. I think she’s got it. “Yes.”

“Rauk. No.” She claps both hands over her face, winces, and drops the bad one. “That’s disgusting.”

It’s blood. I put the lamp on the ledge above the water and go on toward the washing, which is piled on a flat stone farther along.

She comes after me. “It ended two days ago. I got rid of those.”

“I put them aside.”

She spots the pile.

“Why? Why did you keep it?”

I shrug. “I liked the smell.”

She stares at me with her mouth open. She believes me. I hold still as long as I can, but my lip comes up off one fang.

“It’s good cloth, Kestria. Blood washes out. You tried to throw it away, and I haven’t washed it yet.”

She shuts her mouth and looks at the pile again.

“Rauk. Did you just make a joke?”

“Yes.”

She swats my arm with her good hand.

“I wrapped those up. I put them under the rubbish. I was trying to be discreet.”

Not from my nose. I take the top cloth from the pile and unfold it. The stains have dried brown, with stiff creases where she folded it. I can still smell her on it over the lamp smoke.

She’s watching over my arm. “You could’ve led with the washing.”

I could have. But then she wouldn’t have swatted me. I fold the stained part inward and pick up the lamp.

She follows me back to the hearth, laughing under her breath. I don’t want her to stop. It turns into a cough, and she reaches for the water jug. I wait while she drinks.

I step over the wood I still haven’t stacked and put the lamp back by her pallet. She tightens her foot wraps while I pinch out the wick.

I put my good shoulder to the slab. The bad arm complains when I try to help, so I don’t. Kestria ducks through as soon as there’s room, and I drag it shut behind us.

Outside, I stop beside her and listen down the slope.