Primitive Instinct: The Journey Home

I woke up smiling as I felt Roar pressing his ear against my stomach. He’s been doing this every morning since we finished putting our tent up a little less than a month ago. It was adorable, how excited he was to be the first of us to know about our kit.

I ran my fingers through his hair and the ear on my stomach twitched as he smiled up at me, looking like he only just woke up himself.

“I hear it,” he whispered and I think he tried to break his face with his smile. “So faint, but I hear it.”

“It is early, still,” I whispered back to him, smiling with him.

“Our kit is growing,” he said with watery eyes as he sat up to kiss me.

“I love you, Roar,” I told him.

“I love you, Fern,” he whispered. “And I need to feed you and our kit. The day is young, but there is much to do, still.”

We got up and had our breakfast and tea and Roar insisted on laying down to listen to the faint heartbeat in my stomach for a while longer before it was truly time to start the day. When we left the tent, he looked at me and I held a finger up to stop him from speaking.

“I’m going to the traps, Roar,” I said, when he frowned at me. “Then I’m coming back here. We are running low on arrows and hide strips. I want you to take Diesel with you, though. It’ll make me feel better with him watching out for you.”

“Okay,” he smirked and put his arm around my waist to hug me close. “This is agreeable. I need you both safe.”

“I did tell you that I’d be careful when this happened,” I smiled at him, then we both looked towards the center of the camp where there was a commotion going on. “It’s kind of early for things to be so exciting, isn’t it?”

“That’s not good sounds,” he said, his ear twitching as he listened. “Come. Let’s go find out what’s going on.”

We walked to the center of the camp and Roar gently pushed through until we stood in the front so I could see. I felt my mouth hang open as I stared at yet another human, only this one was bound tightly and looking exhausted and covered in dried blood from old wounds.

“What’s going on?” Roar asked one of the others near us.

“We all know your wife is one of these, but this one... I do not like,” came the answer and I looked up at the other male. “This one was found by the Mooshin waters and they heard of Osh’ri’ca’s wife. I believe they are seeking the knowledge of their kind’s justice.”

“Justice for what?” I asked.

“It killed one of the Mooshin,” the male answered.

“Roar’kaol’tok,” the chief called, silencing the clan around us. “Would your wife speak to her kind? Find out why the Mooshin lost one of theirs?”

“I don’t like this one, either,” Roar told me softly, eyeing the human cautiously.

I looked at Diesel, who had come with us and saw his hackles raised.

“Diesel doesn’t like him either and I’ve always trusted his instinct. They’ve never been wrong before,” I looked back at Roar. “What will they do?”

“Kill it, probably,” the other male answered and Roar scowled at him before turning me to look at him.

“If you wish to, I will not stop you, but remember your promise,” he looked at my stomach and I sighed before I turned to the chief.

“I will speak to my kind, but this is not our original home, despite having made one here,” I told him and held Roar’s paw in mine. “Whatever justice is being sought is not for our kind. It’s for the Mapok and should be done in the Mapok way.”

The chief nodded and the aquatic-adapted Mapok that probably brought the human here grabbed the messy hair and pulled back, to make the human look at us.

“A male?” I heard someone whisper and Roar tensed.

“What is your name?” I called and the man’s eyes flew open and darted around before landing on me.

“Human,” he whispered then licked his busted up lips.

“I am,” I nodded. “Your name?”

“Ryan,” he answered. “Please. Help me.”