Falling in Love with the King of Beasts

Several Weeks Later…

LERRIN

Lerrin rolled over and stretched, but quickly pulled his arms back inside their furs.

Winter had set in and the air outside the cave was bitingly cold. They had worked for the past two days building a barrier for the cave mouth—one of the tent sheets, branches, dried grasses—to insulate the inside against the growing cold. But this high in the cliffs, snow was no longer a rarity. Lerrin had been hunting to make more furs, and Suhle already had two hides from the massive alpine Ibex spread on the rocks outside for the sun, birds and insects to clean.

They would survive this winter, Lerrin was certain of it. Suhle's preparations for their flight had been remarkable. If they were careful with their tools, and the Creator blessed him with a few kills before the snow settled, they could freeze the meat to bring them through winter.

  Still bleary-eyed from sleep, it took him a moment to gather his senses. Despite the cold, he could scent the sun on the trees of the canyon below. They had slept in.

He turned his head to find Suhle. She was curled up, knees almost to her stomach and hands under her pillow.

She always looked so young when she slept, Lerrin's chest beat with a fierce protectiveness whenever he looked at her. He had frowned the night before at the dark circles under her eyes. She'd insisted on spending her evenings after dark still working, stitching and mending, ensuring every piece of clothing, blanket, and fur was at its best in preparation for the cold. She wasn't eating enough, too distracted, or too stressed, he wasn't sure.

He wanted to reach for her, but she was deeply asleep and she needed the rest, so as slowly and carefully as he was able, he slid out of the furs and got to his feet, dressing quickly, then placing another log on the fire they had banked the night before.

He squinted at the chimney hole and frowned. It wasn't quite large enough and some of the smoke drifted at the top of the cave. But they couldn't fix everything at once. It was yet another task added to his mental list of needs. Something to be focused on when they were confined to the cave during a storm.

Lerrin's heart fluttered at the images his mind conjured about other ways they would spend any days within the cave over winter. But he swallowed and pushed them away. He needed to leave Suhle to sleep. And thoughts of being confined still left him shaky and tense. He wasn't sure how the winter would go on that score. Suhle had woken him from a nightmare more than once in which he was back in the prison tree, facing enemies, or separated from her, knowing she was there, but unable to see her, touch her…

Faster than was strictly needed, Lerrin walked to the front of the cave and pushed aside the door flap they'd made on the side where the branches and grasses didn't shelter it from the wind.

His chest eased as soon as he was outside.

Their cave didn't face perfectly west, but Lerrin still smiled. They'd found their home not on a mountainside, but on the looming Midnight Cliffs. Lerrin had been told they existed, but no one in living memory had visited them and returned. Lerrin wondered if it was because, like them, the Anima that left WildWood were looking for a new life, not to return to the old one?

It did not matter. They would not return. But they had left markers here and there along their path after passing the desert, just in case Reth was true to his word and sent others after them.

Lerrin half-hoped he wouldn't.

They'd travelled for days through the desert, perilously close to exhaustion, which would have quickly led to dehydration. The very morning Lerrin had feared might be their last, a breath of cool air reached them across the sands, and by high sun that day, the canyon had opened to the south—with a glittering, babbling river meandering at its feet.

They'd followed that for days, too. But slowly. Looking for the right place to make their home. And one week in, they'd both known the moment they arrived.

The foot of the canyon widened here, which meant if the river rose after the winter thaw, the water would flow more slowly. He'd eyed the piles of driftwood and dead trees warily. They would have to watch for flash flooding in the spring.

But not in their cave.

Lerrin stood easily a hundred feet up, the canyon wide and yawning below him, its almost-sheer cliffs on the other side facing him less than a mile away. The land and trees obscured the desert plains behind it. But when the sun was high, far, far in the distance, his eyes could catch the hazy peaks of the purple mountains that watched over the WildWood.

Below him there was an almost sheer drop to the canyon below, the path to their cave a winding deer trail from the riverbed.

The Silent Ones here were unaccustomed to Anima or human and most stared curiously, rather than fleeing. It made them easy to hunt. He smiled. The Creator had made this place for them, he was certain. It may  not be the mountainside he had envisioned, but standing there with the  morning breeze in his face and the sun rising to greet him, Lerrin found he was happy.

Then, as he enjoyed the view and mentally reviewed his to-do list for the day, her scent fluttered towards him.

He didn't hear her approach, but before long a warm presence appeared at his back. Small hands slid between his arms and his sides, to flatten on his stomach. And a warm head rested between his shoulder-blades.

"Good morning," Suhle said quietly. "You should have woken me when you got up so I could come with you."

Sliding his hands along her arms until his fingers found the gaps in hers and twined, Lerrin shook his head. "You need the rest," he said. "Another hour would have been better."

"I can't sleep when you aren't there, you know that."

That familiar pang slid through his chest as it always did when he was reminded of her past. Rage bubbled. He tried to sigh it away, but it rolled into a growl instead.

"Lerrin...." Suhle sighed.