I grudgingly turned my head, prepared to keep scowling, but the words died in my throat.
The world below us was a canopy stretched out like a sea of deep erald and fading gold, broken only by the silver ribbon of the river we had followed. But further out—toward the horizon where Noah had pointed—the sky was turning a heavy, bruised purple.
"The snow clouds," I whispered, the anger montarily forgotten.
"Yeah," Noah said, his voice losing its teasing edge as he stood behind , his hands resting lightly on my waist to steady . "And look there, to the North. See that jagged line of white? Those are the Frozen Peaks. That’s where the salt is—where the sea is."
My eyes widened.
The sea was over there? Opposite of it, in the West direction, was a mountain...
"And that gap in the middle?" I turned my gaze to the spot he was referring to, keeping the mountain behind . "That’s the pass we need to hit."
From this height, the distance looked terrifying. It was miles and miles of dense, unforgiving wild. But I could also see things I hadn’t noticed before—a natural rock formation that looked like a massive cave entrance a few miles away, and a cluster of trees that stayed green even as the others turned, suggesting a hot spring or a hidden valley.
"You were right," I muttered, leaning back against his chest. "The view is... It’s everything."
"Told you," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. "So, am I forgiven?"
He looked at with hopeful eyes and I rolled mine. What can I do by staying mad anyway?
"Yeah, you’re forgiven."
"Alright, now start drawing. My arms are strong, but even I’ll get tired of holding a grumpy wife on a branch all day."
I ignored the ’grumpy’ comnt and pressed the coal to the leather. I began to sketch the landmarks: the river, the cave, the distant peaks, and the path Noah pointed out, and then pinpointed our camp, using a thin line to draw a route we had to take.
It was more difficult than it seed, but I was glad I aced art class, and sneaked into geography class to peep a few tis.
"We’ll make it," I said, more to the map than to him. It was a self-assurance that lit up the determination to do more.
"With a wife as bossy as you? We don’t really have a choice, do we?" Noah joked, but he tucked his chin over my shoulder, watching draw with a look that wasn’t perverted at all—it was full of genuine, quiet wonder.
Later, we got back to the tent and saw heaps of dead animals, so still wiggling, their tail or paws trying to grasp at the last straw of life, but I cut that straw for them.
"Wow, you’re cruel," Noah exclaid, his tone sounding like he’d like a taste of that cruelty... In bed.
"Don’t forget I’m still a tiger," I said and he nodded, raising his hands in surrender.
Damar and Fenric weren’t in the camp so I guessed they went to catch more.
Once they get back, I’ll let them know it’s all right to stop. This much is fine already.
’Hm, I should start preparing so we can make a troller for ourselves.’
I don’t plan to burden the backs of my mate with the load anymore, so a troller was needed.
I looked at the map I drew. The path I marked towards the cave I noticed from above should be a good route to roll a troller.
This way, only one of them was needed to carry the load and they won’t even get tired since I’ll make them do it in their beast form.
It was perfect.
I just hope my plan goes as smoothly as it is in my head and that we do not suffer.
Soon, Fenric and Damar ca back, covered in blood, obviously.
The thick raw tallic stench of it made my stomach wrenched and I turned around, holding my breath so I wouldn’t gag and throw up.
Nothing happened when I saw the bloody beast they had caught so why was it like this now?
Noah noticed this and instead of calling out, he shooed them.
"Hey, what are you doing just standing there? If you’re done then go take a bath. You’ll make the little tiger uncomfortable if you remain drenched in blood."
"Oh, right." Fenric imdiately turned. "I’ll go take a bath quickly, Arinya."
But Damar did not move right away. He looked at the blood in his hands and then back at .
"Ari, it’ll be quick," he said and then turned. I had no idea what he was thinking in that mont but I was glad he left.
"What’s the matter?" Noah asked, his hand on his waist and I shook my head.
"I don’t know, it’s just..." I touched my belly. "The cubs might’ve been scared."
I had no other way of explaining it.
Seeing them drenched in blood, maybe the cubs were indeed scared—scared that their father or fathers got hurt.
I closed my eyes, took in a deep breath, and then let it out, my tightening chest falling with ease.
"I’m fine now," I said and turned around, looking at the grueso sight of the animals, but didn’t feel a single bit of nausea.
This is tiring.
Soon, they ca back and we began to skin the animals.
I succeeded in finishing the sable, its fur thick and shimring with a deep, brown luster that would make a perfect lining for a winter hood. That is if I do succeed in making one, haha. Help.
"How are you doing over there?" Fenric asked, pausing his own work. He watched with a mix of admiration and concern, noting the dark sar of blood on my forehead where I’d tried to wipe away sweat with a ssy hand.
"It’s a chore, but better than staying idle and watching," I said, breathing out a sigh of satisfaction as I laid the pelt aside.
The camp was a hive of frantic, productive energy, thanks to the multiple rounds Damar and Fenric took when bringing the animals they hunted.
I looked at the animals. Damar and Fenric went really far and took their ti searching for animals with good pelts.
They even brought back ’extras’—weasels, sables, and squirrels. Smaller ga that required more precision to hunt without ruining the hides. They knew I loved the soft, plush feel of those pelts for my inner linings, and they had gone out of their way to find them.
Damar was a few paces away. He moved his hand like he was operating on the animal. I stared at him. He looked like he would do well as a surgeon in modern tis; given his exceptional knowledge of herbs, too, he was suited for the dical world.
He skinned a large buck. "We found a colony of giant minks near the creek," he said his voice calm despite the grueling labor. "Their pelts are water-resistant. I thought they would be good for your boots, Ari."
"Water-resistant? That’s perfect, Damar."
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