Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4487391.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Jurassic_World_(2015)
  Relationship:
      Owen_Grady/Zach_Mitchell, Owen_Grady_&_The_Raptor_Squad
  Character:
      Zach_Mitchell, Owen_Grady, Gray_Mitchell
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe, Alternate_Universe_-_Historical, If_Humans_Lived
      During_The_Cretaceous, LITERALLY, I'm_not_joking_-_Freeform, Zach_and_his
      family_are_alive_like_70_million_years_ago, they_live_in_a_hunter-
      gatherer_society_based_around_the_migration_of_dinosaur_herds, they_tame
      dinosaurs_and_ride_them, its_a_great_fucking_time, Slow_Build,
      Intercrural_Sex, Cheating, Minor_Character_Death
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-08-03 Completed: 2016-01-01 Chapters: 7/7 Words: 38205
****** Sweet Heat and Sweet Lies (Something Pure, Something Real) ******
by Caddaren
Summary
     Zach was meant to take a mate, provide for his children, and grow
     old. He was not meant for complexity, independence, not meant for
     excitement or adventure.
     He was not meant for Owen, but as his world falls out from beneath
     his feet, Owen may be the only one he has left.
***** Boredom *****
Zach wasn’t interested in the yearly nesting grounds. As you could guess, the
annual trip had long since lost its sense of awe and wonder. His family had
been with this herd since before he was born, with his mother’s sisters all
being raised on same journey to the same nesting grounds. And before them were
several older generations had grown up with the same exact thing. Boredom was
practically a family tradition.
Zach was surrounded by so many cousins, aunts, and uncles that he had no idea
where one family started and the other began. To be fair, his grandmother had
taken several mates in life and produced half a dozen healthy and fertile
children because of it. Those children then found mates and had children of
their own, who were just beginning to hit the age where they could venture off
into other herds and find their own mates. Some returned and brought their
mates with them, others stayed with a new herd.
The herds themselves were a constant, a means of survival and companionship.
Families who followed the same herd often bonded together and stuck together
for several generations, taking care of children and tending to the herd
together. Numbers meant safety, and children meant the family would continue.
There was never a preference for male children over female children or vice
versa, differently than the way bulls were more valued and rarer than cows
within a herd. If faithful and strong, mates would provide for each other and
have one child after another.
Zach’s parents had been mates for only a year before they spent their first rut
together and welcomed Zach into the world nine months later. It was considered
a good omen when mates produced a healthy child on their first try, and thus
everyone predicted a happy union for them both. However, Zach was an only child
for a startling five years before his parents brought Gray into the world. As
Gray grew older and showed signs of intellect and ingenuity, the Elders stopped
believing his parents had been cursed and instead been blessed. Gray was a
miracle child, born from a barren woman and impotent man. He completed their
family, as the Elders agreed it would be best for his parents not to try for
another child ever again and instead focus their energy on raising Gray.
At first, Zach hadn’t minded. By the time Gray was old enough to walk and talk,
Zach was just excited to have someone to play with who his parents couldn’t
scheme to match him up with. Zach was a favourite amongst the young women of
the tribe who were too old to match with Gray. He was related to the miracle
child, after all, so maybe some of that would show in his children.
But Zach was sixteen and completely uninterested in children or even women for
that matter. He enjoyed talking and working with them, but any attempts at
heating his passion with flirty glances or sneaky kisses ended with Zach
feeling frustrated with himself and a bit scared. His parents told him they
understood, that some children didn’t find a mate until they were well into
fertility, that there was no pressure. But they were lying. Late bloomers were
rare and frowned upon, as it meant risking the continuation of the family
simply for personal reasons. He was disappointing them every day he didn’t take
a mate and the next rut grew closer and closer.
So he took a mate, at least officially. A girl named Kel had been interested in
him for years, clung to him with enough physical affection for him not to have
to seek her out in order to make the ordeal believable, and had more than
enough practical skills to bolster their family. They had gone foraging
together more than enough times for him to know she could provide for their
young, and she was gentle when taking care of her own younger siblings. He
liked her, even if he didn’t likeher. So after they supped one night, he led
her away from the fire and into the trees, where he asked her to be his mate.
They had a lot of ceremony to go through, of course, but she was so excited she
nearly fell out of the branches. Their families had rejoiced and plans set into
motion.
One tradition of taking a mate was presenting their family with a gift. Most
brought something precious or practical, as a way of thanking the parents and
siblings for giving up such a valuable and cherished person. It only took two
days for Kel’s family to present his with a young Hollow-crest, tamed and
docile and with incredibly beautiful blue head markings. The new cow would
prove to be a valuable resource to his family once they sent her out into the
herd during the rut and bred her. With any luck, Kel would also bring new life
into their family.
Zach wasn’t exactly looking forward to the thought, but he did appreciate the
effort. So, he was putting effort into his own gift for her family. This also
gave him a good excuse for escaping away from the herd and being alone for a
few hours. Granted, he didn’t stray far for safety reasons but the effect was
still the same. It was soothing to get away from his parents and Gray and even
Kel for a little while even if he had to return before sunset. It’s not like he
wanted to leave the herd, as his parents most likely feared, but he did like a
bit of freedom once in a while. He could see the appeal of leaving your
childhood herd to find a mate and then choosing not to return, but he’d never
say such a thing. To leave the herd to start your own was practically unheard
of and a near death warrant, and to join another one wouldn’t benefit him in
any way.
His one friend throughout this whole mess of mating gifts and ruts was his
Thick-Head mount. He had rescued her from egg snatchers at the nesting ground
three years ago and refused to let go of her egg even when his parents demanded
it. They had no idea what type she was until she hatched, and by then it was
too late for Zach to give her up. Since then, his mother had taken to calling
Zach her “rebellious thick-head” just to tease him. Honestly, he didn’t mind.
Usually not one for naming his mounts—previous he had ridden on a runner
without any name at all—Zach had let his mother come up with something fitting
according to the sounds she made just after hatching. They settled on Bree, and
Zach liked it enough to continue using it over the years.
Bree was almost fully grown, like he, and probably a bit overdue on her first
mating. Thing was, they had very little use for Thick-Heads in the herd. The
wild ones made for decent sentries and warning systems but even being
herbivores they were too aggressive for most families to make use of. He had
made up his mind about letting her rut this year, however, as all the previous
years they had spent the ruts together trying to ignore the pheromones in the
air. Mating pairs traditionally mounted each other during the rut with no
regard for privacy and beyond the boundaries of their camp the bulls were
huffing and bellowing and ramming each other for a chance of their own.
Zach often found the rut a bit silly, even though he had always understood the
importance of mating in general. For one, the rut made everyone crazy. They had
to prepare for it, stockpiling food and water and readying their mounts for
breeding because all mating pairs lost any ability to do anything but eat,
sleep, and mate, and all the mounts refused to budge. Everyone was stubborn,
and quick to anger. Children were left under the care of juveniles like Zach
himself and those without mates. Mates with young children still put to breast
sat out for the most part, but the call of the rut was hard to ignore. He could
offer no help to Bree, but Zach often found his relief in his own hand as most
unmated did.
They were behind of schedule this year, running the risk of not having a proper
place to spend the rut if they didn’t plan accordingly. There needed to be
fresh water, preferably deep enough to keep carnivores from crossing it, and
enough open space for the entire herd to bunker down for a few days while the
hormones rose then fell. The herd was getting restless with the nearing rut and
each day it felt like it took longer and longer for the herd to start moving in
the direction of the moving grounds. His father said it was always like this,
with the bulls wanting to conserve as much energy as possible before the rut in
order to have the best chance at winning mating rights. There also a few
quarrels between family members resulting from the higher tension but Zach was,
thankfully, not a part of any of them.
With the approaching rut, Zach’s family and Kel’s family had been hurrying the
ceremony along. If the two joined as a mating pair just in time for the rut,
rutted for the first time so soon after the ritual, and then conceived, it
would be a good omen. So every day since the announcement of his mating to Kel,
Zach had been saddling Bree and taking her away from the herd. Thick-heads were
agile and fast, which helped him convince his parents it was a necessary risk
to venture out of their sight. He promised to stay within earshot, able to hear
should they shout for him or be heard should he shout in return. Safety was
everyone’s number one priority, as always, but many mates took risks for each
other. This would be the first risk that Zach took for Kel.
Then again, it wasn’t just for Kel, was it? He was using her as an excuse to
get away. He had no idea how he would handle the rut when it came around
because both he and Bree would have potential mates for the first time in their
lives. Bree obviously had no idea what as fast approaching beyond the rut and
any eggs she might produce because of it, so Zach was alone in his dread. He
focused his efforts on scouring the forest instead.
Bree was also useful should he find something he needed more of: she could
scent it and attempt to lead him in the right direction. He trusted her to lead
when it was his turn to follow, and also to listen to him when he thought it
best to move elsewhere. Combined, her instinct and superior sense with his
higher intelligence and decision making capabilities, they made a pretty good
pair. Trust was key between riders and mounts, on both ends. They had yet to
let each other down.
Once they were far enough into the trees, he let her meander from place to
place grazing on thick undergrowth while keeping guard. He was too busy
searching for a suitable ceremonial gift—where to even start—and letting his
mind wander to keep his eyes peeled for danger. His parent soften complained he
was too absentees for his own good but Zach took it with a grain of salt. His
parents thought anyone who wasn't constantly thinking of the herd and children
and where food was coming from next. Zach liked to think he had better ways to
spend his time, but seeing how he was currently sitting astride a Thick-Head
with nothing to do but hum to himself and munch on red gum as he browsed
bushes. Bree trilled to him occasionally, to which he answered back with a
gentle touch or a whistle of his own, but otherwise they both kept quiet and
absorbed in their own tasks.
He hopped off her back and double checked the straps of her saddle before
letting her wander. She'd stick close to him out of habit even if he was
climbing into the trees as he was about to. When he was a few branches off the
ground she chuffed at him then moved away. If he listened close he could hear
her snapping at bushing with her beak but his attention was focused on a
strange coloured plant winding around a tree trunk.
He couldn’t have climbed a few more branches before Bree started making an
awful noise. When he looked down to try and see her, she was pacing back and
forth at the base of the tree trunk appearing incredibly agitated. She even
turned her head to look up at him a few times, snorting in distress. Something
was wrong but she had yet to flee. That gave him some time to get on her back,
hopefully.
A terrifying screech sounded just as his feet hit the ground. Raptors,
recognizable by their distinctly ‘breathy’ call to each other when in packs.
They must be hunting close by, and no doubt the herd had smelt them already if
Bree had. If not, he might be able to warn them before panic set in. Raptors
wouldn’t hunt adults in a herd, but they would try to pick off sub-adults or
anyone straying. They were probably after Bree, if they knew she was here in
the brush all alone.
But Bree wasn’t alone, she had Zach mounting her back and digging in his knees.
She took off from the trees, forelegs tucked up to her chest as her great body
swayed with each step. Many children would fall off the backs of faster mounts
when first learning to ride without help due to this motion, but all it took
was learning to roll with the motion. That being said, Bree could not out-run a
raptor. Herds were key to survival only because it left predation up to chance.
It was better to let a carnivore take a slower sub-adult or elder than a
fertile adult, as that alive and well adult would live to produce more eggs.
Hunting was also a matter of chance on the other side: sometimes hunts failed
and predators went home hungry while families rejoiced.
But rarely, very rarely, did families lose someone they loved. Zach feared that
would be their current situation, as he would rather unstrap himself from
Bree’s back and let her get away than watch her be killed by claws and teeth.
He imagined death would be incredibly painful, but hopefully it wouldn’t last
long. The Elders said that the dead returned to the earth and their spirits
rested until choosing to come back again, which is why all death was treated
with respect and practicality. Besides, Bree was the closest thing he had to a
best friend, he never wanted her to leave him.
Bree suddenly stopped, dirt spraying up from under her hind feet as she slid
and turned to face what was chasing them. Zach tried to twist and coax her back
into a run with his knees but she refused to budge, instead snorting with some
sort of finality and panting to catch her breath. So they would make a stand,
it seemed, and die fighting. Zach rather liked that idea, even as his hands
shook and his heart threatened to beat out of his chest. This is probably what
his mother feared when she claimed Thick-Heads were too aggressive to be
mounts.
Two raptors emerged from the ferns in front of them, eyeing them up and finding
them lacking. He could hear at least one more in the ferns behind them,
circling and stalking. Bree could hear it too, planting her feet and swaying
her head side to side in warning. One charge from her could crush the diaphragm
of any beast, so even the raptors would have to be careful. As for the one
behind, Zach pulled his club out from its loop and swung it experimentally.
Should any raptor get passed Bree’s tail—which packed a significantly harder
blow than he did—he would do his best to hit it on its weak spots and drive it
back again. If they could only injure one of the beasts, they could probably
escape while the raptor pack recovered. Then, the herd would flee together and
hopefully Zach and Bree wouldn’t be the target.
The two raptors screeched again, arms lifting into an attack position as they
edged closer. Bree snorted at them, legs tensing. Once one was within a certain
distance, she could charge and hit it with little chance of it springing out of
the way in time. Bree knew this based on instinct; Zach knew it based on
experience. They would sometimes take down smaller herbivores in the same way,
either for meat or as pest control, and he had seen what Bree could do if
trusted.
Before the raptors could get closer and consequently into Bree’s range of
defense, Zach heard a loud shout and a few short whistles. Bree didn’t react
negatively beyond her pre-existing agitation, but the raptors froze and turned
their heads as if expecting something. Even the one behind them, previously
pretending to hide, emerged from the underbrush and stared in the same
direction with terrifying focus. Zach began to back Bree up with his knees but
the raptors barely even acknowledged them anymore.
Another shout startled Zach, and he shouted back just out of instinct. He had
no idea who it was or why they thought it was a good idea to call the raptors
attention to them, but he didn’t want them getting hurt. It was no one from his
herd, he knew, but beyond that he was clueless and too hyped up on adrenaline
not to be scared and wide-eyed. Of all things, he was not expecting a man
without a mount to walk through the bushes and right up to the raptors, making
noises as if communicating with them. They backed further away from Bree but
Zach felt no safer.
The man turned to him, his clothes strange and his ease with predators putting
up all sorts of red flags in Zach’s mind, and said something Zach didn’t
understand. They both frowned when Zach could not and did not respond. The man
tried again, and this time one of the raptors hissed at Bree, who stamped her
foot in response. The man held his hands up, placating, and calmed the raptors
down once again. Zach still couldn’t understand what he said, and the man’s
shoulders sagged a bit. He touched a hand to his chest and said, “O-wen,” to
Zach, as if this was to mean something.
The man repeated it several times, also gesturing to Zach expectantly. Zach
stared at him for a few minutes, mind momentarily not focused on the raptors
and their strangely docile behaviour. Finally, something clicked. Zach touched
his own chest and said, “Za-cuh.”
The man looked thrilled. He repeated Zach’s name back to him, and Zach nodded.
“O-wen,” said Zach, and the man whooped. Bree startled at the sudden movement,
taking a few steps to the side as Zach attempted to calm her. He held a hand up
to Owen to quiet him as well, whispering quiet, soothing noises to Bree while
he kept his eyes on the raptors. Owen stared right back at him, obviously
curious.
Owen gestured towards the valley and made another sound that Zach didn’t
understand. Zach knew the herd had already passed by and was a few minutes
further down the valley so he hazarded a guess. “Herd,” he said, watching as
Owen mimed a person walking on his palm. He would have found it funny under
different circumstances. “Family,” he said.
Owen perked up like he understood. Then he touched the neck of one of his
raptors, the female with two stripes of blue running from her eyes to her
flank, and said “family.”
Zach frowned in disbelief. Surely the man was delusional. Predators weren’t
meant to be mounts, least of all kept so close. “No,” said Zach, “danger,” he
said, pointing at the raptors once again.
“Blue,” said Owen, tapping her neck. The raptor preened a bit but kept an eye
on Zach.
“Bree,” said Zach, patting Bree’s neck comfortingly. She panted beneath his
hand and he suddenly came back to reality. They were being hunted, might still
be hunted.  Remembering her distress, Zach looked back to Owen, the peculiar
raptor man. He pointed at the raptors, disapproval clear on his face. Owen’s
face dropped. “Go,” he said, pointing again so Owen would take his raptors away
from the herd.
Owen refused to budge even as his raptors hissed and postured threateningly
once again. He held them back with a few short noises but otherwise did not
look away from Zach. Zach found the attention disconcerting but did not stand
down. He could feel Bree shivering with nerves; he couldn’t hold her there any
longer. He gave Owen one last look, and let her back away from the raptors.
Owen, apparently in charge of the beasts, might hunt them down anyways. Maybe
he wanted something of Zach’s, or maybe he just wanted to let his raptors have
something easy to eat. Compared to the many faster moving animals in the herd,
Zach and Bree were easy pickings. Zach backed away until he no longer felt
boxed in by the trees then let Bree make a break for the meadow. He kept
looking over his shoulder, just waiting to see a flash of wicked teeth and long
claws, but none came.
His mother was surprised to see him but ultimately didn’t question his return
once he claimed he was hungry and had no luck finding something for himself in
the brush. He sat on Bree’s back and ate a slimy piece of fruit, wondering
about the strange man who ran with raptors but had no herd.
***** Blossoms *****
Chapter by DraxInTheSack_(Caddaren)
Chapter Summary
     Awkward conversations, ill-planned meetings, teenage insecurities,
     and hauntings from the past.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Zach couldn’t believe he was stuck on foraging duty again. It was almost as if
his mother realized she was losing him soon and couldn’t bear the thought of it
happening a moment sooner and then asked the Elders to keep him close. It
wasn’t as if he hated picking berries all day—it as actually pleasantly mind-
numbing, if he was being honest—but younger children could pick just as well as
he could and ever make a game out of it to pass the time. His mother cornered
him on the bush he shared with Gray—who, for all his rarity and intelligence,
still had to work for his own supper—and started a conversation he had
anticipated but hadn't looked forward too.
“This will be your first rut,” she said, stating the obvious just to pain him.
He refused to pause and let her see how uncomfortable he was.
“Yes,” he said, dropping a few berries into Gray’s pouch instead of his own
purely out of habit. Gray smiled up at him and returned the favour, but Zach
was too distracted to notice.
“Are you excited for it?”
“I suppose,” he said, shrugging.
“Nervous?” she said, apparently assuming his lack of enthusiasm was due to
nerves more than anything. Many new mates were already preparing for their
first rut together, and compared to them Zach was downright depressed. It was
fairly obvious too, so much so he was surprised Kel hadn’t approached him with
concerns. He knew she was watching him, worrying almost as much as his mother,
and just waiting for the right opportunity to broach the subject. Thankfully,
Zach had been avoiding basically everyone since the announcement about his
mating ceremony.
He also hadn’t seen Owen, the friend-of-raptors, since the first time. It was
for the best, but it made Zach doubt his own mind. What was he supposed to
believe? A man with predators in his herd wasn’t heard of, nor was it exactly
something he could share. If he told anyone, they’d think him cursed or sick of
mind and check him for a fever. If he told an Elder, in hopes of advice, they
would make a big deal out of it and undoubtedly relate it back to Gray somehow.
Whenever Zach found something valuable or accomplished anything expectantly,
the tribe was told Gray had blessed their family with good fortune. Zach was
old enough by the time Gray started accidentally taking credit for his
achievements that he learned to silently accept it and move on. Gray was
surprisingly humble for a wonder-child and often tried to protest the
favouritism, but he also quickly learned how stubborn the Elders could be.
Eventually, they learned to live with it.
He could tell Gray about Owen; his little brother would be the first person
he’d share the secret with. They had many more secrets, some that kept them
close and some that set them apart, but ultimately Zach trusted Gray more than
anyone, even their parents, who might try to help but only end up hurting him.
“A bit,” he admitted, not noticing Gray’s look of apprehension. “I still have
to find an appropriate gift,” he said.
“The cow Kuh-el’s family gave was a wonderful gift,” she said, “and Kuh-el
really likes you. We couldn’t be happier with the match. Anything you present
will be just fine, and your ceremony will be happy and wonderful either way!”
Her words were meant to comfort him yet all they did was make his palms start
to sweat.
“I want to find something just as good,” he said, hoping to quiet her. “It’s
what I wanted to do today,” he said just to drive the point home.
“Don’t be so eager to leave, Zach,” she said, the two hard syllables of his
name flowing together with ease from years of practice.
“It’s not like I’m leaving the herd,” said Zach, perhaps a bit more snappish
than he could justify. He sighed and, before his mother could say anything
more, turned away from their work. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I think I need to
go.” He took a few steps away, closing the bag he had been picking into and
double checking the string that tied it shut and kept it secured around his
neck. “I’ll be back around dusk,” he said, already searching the herd for Bree.
“Stay close,” his mother said, not fighting him.
“Always,” he said, touching her shoulder in farewell. She did the same in
return. Zach repeated the gesture with Gray as well, then walked away. He was
sure Bree would keep him safe as they ventured from the herd’s protection.
After a few short calls of her name, she joined him on his trek through the
ferns that separated the herd from the thick forest. If the migration trail
hadn’t been so well-treaded from generations of use they would have been forced
to brave the deep undergrowth each year.
“Sorry for dragging you into this,” he said, rubbing her muzzle in apology.
Someone from the herd might still be able to overhear and question why he spoke
words she clearly didn’t understand, but for the most part everyone already
knew how irregularly close Zach was to his mount.
He bent to scrutinize the bones of some small creature apparently crushed to
death by something bigger. Bree made a curious noise and sniffed at something a
few feet away then left him to his own devices when she found a patch of
berries the gatherers had missed. She looked over at him just as hands grabbed
him from behind and dragged him back.
Whoever it was had approached from downwind, something Zach would appreciate
once he could breathe again and determine whether he had to fight for his life.
For now, he scrambled and scratched and aimed for the weak points he knew
everyone had, no matter their intent. The groin was a common target but when he
tried to get a hand down to hit there all he was met with was a well-placed,
well-muscled thigh. When it became clear he wasn’t making any progress, Zach
bit down on the hand over his mouth. There was a hiss from behind him and he
was released.
Owen stood there, suckling on the fresh mark to clean the blood and coax the
pain away. Zach stared at him in disbelief, not knowing what to say to
communicate his anger to a man who could barely understand him in the first
place. Owen said something, pouting down at the bite mark on his palm, but Zach
couldn’t understand him and he had absolutely no sympathy for the man.
Instead, he shoved at Owen’s chest and voiced his displeasure with a shout.
Owen immediately tried to cover Zach’s mouth again so Zach shoved him in
return. Should Owen choose to actually subdue him the fight would be completely
one-sided due to their size difference. Zach had no delusions, especially when
he eyed the bulk of the man’s arms. Considering this, Zach attempted to keep a
few safe feet between them. When he didn’t shout again, Owen looked pleased and
dropped his ominously large hands.
Zach watched Bree come up behind Owen while he was distracted and head-butt him
with considerable force. It wasn’t enough to hurt him but it sent him tumbling
to the ground with a yelp. Bree nudged him with her snout, not understanding,
and Owen shocked them both by laughing. Zach stared at him, worried he might
have hit his head when he fell. He heard Owen say Bree’s name a few times but
otherwise he had no idea what he said.
Owen rolled over onto his back and pushed Bree’s inquisitive nose away so he
could stand. He brushed the dirt off his legs and foreign clothing and then
turned and waited for Zach to do something. Zach, not understanding the command
and not willing to follow it anyways, glared at his back. The glaring seemed to
be a regularly thing, right alongside the confusion and frustration on both
their parts.
Owen wasn’t exactly hard to look at but he didn’t know why, so Zach would just
add it up to his growing list of secrets and never speak of it. During Zach’s
little introspection, Owen turned to him and gestured to his own back, and then
to Zach. Zach blinked and said “oh!” in realization. Owen turned around again,
giving Zach his back which was usually considered a sign of trust in Zach’s
herd, and waited as Zach crept closer and touched his back.
It was an immediate mistake because while he was only meant to brush the dirt
away, Zach could only think of what boundaries they were crossing. He had
touched people familiarly like this before but most of them were family.
Friends would also behave physically closely and mates were obviously intimate
with each other, but Zach and Owen were none of these things. He felt like a
man, warm and living and healthy, but he certainly didn’t feel familiar, or
like anyone Zach had touched before.
With a start, Zach realized Owen was still standing and waiting for him to move
his hand, which until then had been resting between his shoulder blades. To be
fair, Owen didn’t seem to have any qualms inviting people into his personal
space. Zach made an apologetic noise and quickly brushed the dirt away the best
he could.
Owen wore such bizarre clothing. He had so much unnecessary covering compared
to Zach’s own attire. Just enough to protect his calves, chest, and groin. Zach
had never met a tribe that wasted material on their feet and shoulders, and
only the deep forest tribes covered their thighs and upper arms. Owen used the
same leather, at least, hard and scaly from the backs of the herd or someone
else’s. Sometimes softer leather was used when comfort was needed or a
particular family could afford to trade for it but Zach had only ever dreamt of
that luxury. Zach wondered Owen’s tribal standing if he could afford that
softness in such large quantities.
But enough contact. Zach pulled his hand away and resumed his careful distance.
He was still unhappy with the man, after all. After sniffing the back of Owen’s
head and snorting, Bree deemed him safe ad returned to foraging at a
comfortable distance. Zach felt betrayed; Owen looked pleased.
Zach glared at him and pointed in the direction away from the herd. “Go,” he
said, as the man had already overstayed his welcome, if he had any welcome to
begin with. “Go!” he repeated with a bit more force when Owen made no move to
comply. Bree looked between them then went back to eating without enforcing his
decree. Zach was on his own and his voice held no authority. When Owen smirked
at him, Zach scowled and stalked off.
Bree followed automatically with Owen right on her heels. It was if Zach had
picked up two strays: one who couldn’t talk and one who couldn’t stop. Owen
chattered on and on like a children, refusing to relent even though he knew
Zach couldn’t understand a word. Had he not snuck up on Zach without a sound,
Zach might doubt his abilities as a hunter. Then again, a man who could command
raptors probably didn’t have to worry about his food very often.
Trust Bree to head-butt Owen should he try something, Zach kneeled in the ferns
and tried to ignore his presence. Owen fell silent, which was a small blessing,
then kneeled next to him. He said something and Zach glowered at him. Owen made
a face of confusion and gestured to them both on the ground and the futility of
it all, making the same noise.
“Oh,” said Zach. As much as he wanted to be left alone it would do some good to
teach Owen to speak with him, if only minimally and slowly. Zach plucked a fern
out of the soil and said “fern” and listened as Owen first said something in
his own language, then repeated Zach’s word. It would be slow going but Zach
was also a bit eager to learn what Owen had to say.
It went on like that for a while—Zach gesturing to certain objects and them
trading words—until Owen paused as if in thought. Zach stopped as well, making
an inquisitive noise.
“Hello,” said Owen, and Zach froze. He had been tricked once again, and his
pride stung. Owen had let him identify everything under the sun just to watch
him do it. He had wasted Zach’s time and taken advantage of Zach’s trust and
enthusiasm. Obviously Owen was a mean man.
Zach set down the berries in his hand and stood, no longer wanting to talk or
stay in Owen’s company. “Goodbye,” he said, now that he knew Owen would
understand. When he started towards Bree to mount her and find somewhere else
to relax and pass the time, Owen caught his arm. Being physically restrained
was the last thing Zach wanted. He tore his arm free and shoved Owen, calling
Bree closer for protection with a short whistle. Owen raised his hands in
surrender and backed away.
“Wait,” said Owen, and Zach did even though he kept a hand on Bree’s neck
should he need to vault onto her back and flee to the safety of the herd. “I…”
he said, and he looked like he was searching for the right words. “Long time,”
he said, and gestured to his mouth, then to Zach’s.
Zach, having heard the man speak his own language, knew Owen could speak just
fine. But maybe it had been a long time since Owen had spoke Zach’s. The fact
that he knew any at all meant Owen had learned from someone in or from Zach’s
tribe at some point. There was an off chance that Owen was from his tribe and
left before Zach had been born, but Zach doubted that. Most never forgot their
tribe language unless they left very young.
“Bad,” said Owen, and Zach snorted because it was true.
“Very bad,” he said, petting Bree’s neck as he thought about it. As annoyed as
he had been, it wasn’t Owen’s fault, and his honesty had helped soothe Zach’s
wounded pride. “I will help,” said Zach.
Owen must have understood because he smiled and pointed at his chest. “Man,” he
said, then pointed at Zach.
Zach frowned. “Man,” he said, touching his chest. Owen didn’t look convinced,
which made Zach bristle. He had been considered an adult for two summers now
and even if he had yet to take a mate and produce children, that wasn’t what
defined adulthood in his tribe. And Owen wouldn’t know that anyways.
“Old,” said Owen, touching his chest again. “Man.”
“Young,” said Zach, then, “man,” firmly, so Owen wouldn’t argue.
“Young man,” said Owen, looking a bit more satisfied.
“Old man,” said Zach, then chuckled at his own joke.
Owen looked insulted and pounded a hand against his chest to showcase his
virility. Zach wouldn’t deny him, but he didn’t say anything in praise either.
He did look and appraise, if he was being honest, but only slightly. It was
more so a self-deprecating comparison than anything and Owen seemed to realize
that because he stopped puffing up his chest.
He pointed towards Zach and said, “good soon,” which made Zach flush in
embarrassment and glare. He wished for Owen’s more extensive clothing in that
moment. Owen may be trying to reassure him, but Zach knew he’d grow to be lean.
His father was the same way. Owen was one of the bigger men Zach had seen, and
he didn’t know how to feel about that. He chose to ignore it in favour of
figuring out the extent of Owen’s knowledge.
“Man,” he said, gesturing to himself. “Mount,” he said, pointing at Bree. Owen
frowned and tilted his head to see underneath her belly to check. “No,” said
Zach, then hopped onto her back with ease. “Mount,” he said again and Owen
repeated it back to him, walking close enough to touch Bree’s flank.
“Woman?” said Owen, and Zach nodded.
“Female,” he said, and placed his hand over Owen’s to guide it to Owen’s chest.
“Male,” he said, also gesturing to himself. Owen smiled and gave him room to
dismount. Zach guided Owen to Bree’s head and over the hard, boney protrusions
there. “Thick-Head,” he said. “Bree, female Thick-Head.” Owen repeated this as
well and Zach was extremely pleased with their progress. Enough to smile and
draw Owen’s attention to his face.
“What?” he said, one of the words Owen firmly remembered. Owen pointed to his
mouth, then smiled as Zach had. “Mouth,” said Zach, then paused. “Smile,” he
said, deliberately dragging up the corners of his lips to show the difference.
Owen grinned brilliantly.
“Za-cuh, smile,” he said, “many good.”
“Very good,” corrected Zach, turning his head away.
“Very good,” said Owen, and Zach didn’t want to see the grin on his face. Zach
mounted Bree, preparing to get something done instead of indulging an
exceedingly distracting stranger. Although, Owen wasn’t really a stranger
anymore. He looked down at Owen’s expectant face and fought to stay firm. “Go
home,” he said, and pointed away from the herd.
Owen’s face fell. “Go?” he said, a hand on Bree’s flank.
“My home,” said Zach, pointing towards the herd. “You,” he said, gesturing, “go
home. Your home.”
Owen pouted but consented. He patted Bree and then stepped back. “Goodbye,” he
said.
“Goodbye, O-wen,” said Zach, then squeezed his knees to command Bree forward.
When he looked back after a few feet, Owen was gone.
 
===============================================================================
 
Zach’s mother kept him on foraging duty. It was dumb and boring but it gave him
time to spend with Gray, so he wasn’t terribly upset. His parents continued to
find excuses to spend time with him and he continued to accept their anxious
coping mechanism for what it was. It almost felt like his life was back to
normal except for the rut hanging over his head and Kel’s family inviting him
into their circle at every chance they could. He ate with them, foraged with
them, tended to their cows alongside Kel, played with the youngest of her
siblings and told stories with the oldest. Her mother showed him how her side
of the family had been roasting fruits and vegetables for generations, and her
father showed him how to test which cows should be bred and which should wait.
Kel kissed him with a flourish when her family teased them and the whole tribe
cheered. Zach thought he saw his mother cry she was so happy, and his father
looked no better. Zach could see himself making a life with Kel, mating and
producing their own children, growing old and watching those children find
their own mates.
But none of that felt right. He knew he had reason to be nervous and it was
normal to be so, but he didn’t think he felt the way he should. He could
acknowledge that Kel was a beautiful, talent, and charismatic woman, and he
knew that anyone would be lucky to be the object of her affections… yet… Zach
only felt scared, uncomfortable, and, at times, numb. All of it combined made
him want to run away and yet he had nowhere to go.
Gray was his current distract and the wonder-child seemed to know something was
upsetting him because he made conversation al on his own, without expecting
Zach to contribute. Zach silently thanks him for that but outwardly only
grunted and nodded when he felt it appropriate. Gray was too young to
understand what his older brother was going through, too young to even begin to
think about mates. Zach was sure when the time came Gray could have his pick of
all the women in the tribe even though Gray was one of the most awkward people
Zach had ever met. Compared to Gray, Zach was downright charming.
Of course, compared to Gray Zach was also terribly plain. Zach had no hobbies
or outstanding kills, nor the same wild curls and grey eyes—an anomaly in their
tribe, one that earned Gray his name and convinced the Elders of his
rarity—that his brother was often praised for. Zach had dark hair and dark eyes
like his father. His mother’s family had red hair which Zach had always found
stunningly beautiful, but he also didn’t inherit. Kel had lovely light hair,
which Zach could admire but also made him feel a little lackluster.
And it wasn’t even that Zach wanted to look special. He wanted nothing more
than to be able to disappear into the crowd. Being average was completely
different than being ignored, Zach assumed, and as happy as he was to have Gray
as a brother and wouldn’t have it any other way, sometimes he wished their
family could be normal. Secretly, of course, because he wasn’t about to tell
his brother that and break his heart. Zach would gladly suffer to keep his
brother, but the idea that that was all he was destined for… maybe it was…
maybe he was meant to protect Gray for the rest of their lives because Gray was
meant for great things and he was not. Maybe Zach was cursed with impotence,
like his father was for years, and his mating with Kel would bring only failure
and disappointment. Maybe—
Something hit him in the back of the head. He yelped and spun around in search
of whoever though it was a good idea for a game. He’d give them a firm talking
to when he found them. Gray also turned and looked, confused when they saw no
one. Zach scowled and turned back around.
“Do you think they’ll try it again if I keep watching?” said Gray, still
scanning the ferns behind them.
“No, turn back around,” said Zach, picking berries again. Gray complied and
they both waited, and this time Zach spun around so fast he dropped his
handful. He did see someone duck behind a bush, however.
“Stay here,” he said, and Gray nodded and watched him go.
Zach didn’t stomp but it was a near thing. He made his approach obvious, hoping
to spook the prankster into running so he could identify them and catch them
off-guard later. No luck. He rounded the bush and barked, “what’s your
problem?” before being suffocated to Owen’s chest. He knew it was Owen not
because he had a chance to see the man’s face but because it was covered with
leather and smelt the same. He didn’t think as to why he knew what Owen smelt
like, only that it was a rich, earthy aroma much like the forest around them,
and it was unlike anything Zach had ever experienced.
He shoved Owen away immediately and smacked away the hand that rose to clamp
over his mouth. Owen still insisted on grabbing his hand and grinning at him.
“Why?” said Zach, because it was the only thing he could think of asking.
“Zach smile good,” said Owen. “Again.” And he looked so pleased that Zach
didn’t have the heart to correct his sentence or berate him for coming so close
to the herd.
“I am not going to smile if you throw rocks at me,” said Zach, rubbing the back
of his head to give Owen a clue.
Owen cupped Zach’s head so suddenly it stunned him, and tilted his head to
investigate with searching fingers. “Not mean to head,” said Owen, then held up
a handful of large seeds. “No rock,” he added.
“Still,” said Zach, his face burning in the most peculiar way. “Bad,” he said,
“not again.” Owen readily agreed, took his hand and began to pull him away.
Zach fought him, “no! Why?”
“Show!” said Owen, “Za-cuh smile, O-wen show!”
“O-wen, no, I can’t,” said Zach, staring at the man’s back while trying to
wrestle his hand away.
“Zach?” called Gray, and Zach panicked.
“Cub!” said Owen, looking thrilled. Zach decided that Owen and Gray could never
meet.
“No!” said Zach, to Owen as he used all his strength to drag him into the
bushes and out of sight. He shoved Owen back when he tried to move and then
stumbled out of the bushes just in time to catch Gray as he was getting close.
“Gray!” he said, brushing leaves out of his hair. “Will you tell Mom I’m going
exploring?”
Gray didn’t look convinced in the slightest. “Who are you hiding in the
bushes?”
“I’m not – no one important,” he said, worried Gray might tell their parents.
Gray shrugged, “if you want to run off with Kel before your ceremony is
completed, at least tell the truth.”
“It’s-”he stopped, wondering if it would be better to go along with the
assumption. “Fine, but don’t tell Mom and Dad,” he said.
“Wash my laundry for a week and maybe I won’t,” said Gray.
“Gray!” said Zach, almost insulted, almost proud, almost relieved.
“Two weeks then,” he said.
“Alright, alright!” said Zach. “Now go away, pesky brother,” he said, and Gray
scampered off looking positively giddy. Zach sighed, “if this comes back to
bite me,” he muttered, dragging Owen away from the herd. “Bad, you’re bad,” he
said.
“Not bad,” said Owen, shifting Zach’s grip from Owen’s wrist to his hand.
“Show, Zach smile,” he said, sounding determined.
Zach huffed, “Fine,” he said, trying to let go of Owen’s hand—with little
success—and let him lead the way. “Show,” he said, gesturing to the entire
forest.
Owen immediately took off in a different direction, his hand still in Zach’s.
Zach was too busy trying not to trip to protest beyond the occasional grunt or
yelp. Once he figured out how to keep up with Owen’s longer strides and
regained his footing, he spoke his mind.
“Owen, slow down, where are we going?” he asked, only knowing that with every
step they put more and more distance between them and the herd, and he trusted
Owen the more and more that distance grew. Forced to trust Owen, Zach thought,
somewhat bitterly.
“Show,” said Owen, “I show, Zach smile. Zach smile, I smile.”
“Show where?” said Zach, because it was easier not to worry or wonder about
strange things Owen said when he probably had only half the understanding
needed to hold a conversation.
‘“Soon,” said Owen, pointing up ahead with his free hand. “Zach see soon.”
“You,” corrected Zach, “you will see soon.”
Owen repeated his words but seemed too distracted to recognize the mistake he
had made in the first place. Zach let it slide if only because he was excited
to see what had Owen so hyped up. “Here,” said Owen, and turned to him, “I
show.” He placed a hand over Zach’s eyes, which Zach didn’t understand until he
kept re-covering them when Zach tried to see.
“Bad,” said Zach, wondering how Owen was supposed to show him something if Zach
wasn’t allowed to look.
“No, good,” argued Owen, his hand hovering over Zach’s face and practically
covering it entirely. He had big hands, which annoyed Zach to no end. But he
let it stay there because it made Owen happy and it wasn’t like Owen was
hurting him in any way.
“Fine,” said Zach, “show me.” He kept his eyes closed and followed blindly as
Owen tugged him forward a few more feet. Vines brushed his shoulders and he
felt the sun on his face as if they had stepped out into the open. Owen moved
to stand behind him and put his hands on Zach’s shoulders, and instinctually
Zach braced for a shove that would send him toppling to the ground, but all
Owen did was stand still.
“Show,” said Owen, and Zach opened his eyes.
And had no idea what he was looking at. The view was colourful, yes, enough to
overwhelm him even, but Zach didn’t recognize what Owen was attempting to show
him. It could be dangerous and Zach wouldn’t know. He saw a towering wall of
vines hanging from the canopy, stealing the sunlight and killing any younger
plants that tried to grow beneath. The lighting in the thicket was speckled, at
best, which kept it from growing as dark as the forest around it. But something
was wrong with the plants to have them producing so many colours and Zach
worried that the forest may be sick. If this new plant brought disease it would
affect the herd. Then again, the colours weremesmerizing.
“What?” said Zach, wondering why Owen had brought him here while also frozen in
awe.
Owen released his shoulders, strode over, and tore a piece of the vines down.
He said something as he stripped the normal green parts away and handed Zach
what remained. They were bright blue and startlingly soft to the touch and Zach
couldn’t believe he had ever thought of anything so beautiful as dangerous.
Owen grinned and handed him a few more then set about tying some into Zach’s
hair. Zach had to laugh, and Owen looked ever happier.
“Flower,” said Owen. It was a new word for Zach, who stumbled over it but
otherwise accepted it wholeheartedly. He repeated “flower” back to Owen until
the word felt familiar.
“Zach smile, Zach flower,” said Owen, playing with a strand of Zach’s hair and
admiring his handiwork.
Zach swatted his hand away halfheartedly. “I’m not a flower,” said Zach, “I’m a
man.” He thumped his chest and said “man” a few more times.
“Man,” said Owen, nodding, “Man… pretty.”
“Pretty… like a flower?” asked Zach, and when Owen nodded enthusiastically, he
took a flower from his hair and considered it. He frowned. “No,” he said,
putting the flower back in Owen’s hand. He pulled the other blossoms out of his
hair as well. Owen looked completely lost, and eventually Zach took pity on
him. “A woman is pretty,” he said, thinking of Kel and his mother and his
aunts. “Bree is pretty,” he said, “flowers are pretty.”
“I am not pretty,” he said, wondering if Owen didn’t know what he was saying or
just had a way of picking out Zach’s weaknesses without trying.
Owen said nothing to argue against him, for which Zach was grateful. He stared
at the flowers in his hands and then looked right into Zach’s eyes. For the
first time, Zach realized how Owen himself would be considered pretty,
especially by the women of the tribe. Zach forced himself to look away first. 
“Thank you,” he said, gesturing around them, “very pretty.” He even accepted a
few flowers again, thinking of letting the tribe see them as well. Owen didn’t
say anything about Zach’s looks again and Zach was all too happy to move on.
They parted when Zach noticed how low the sun was falling and by that time he
had taught Owen a handful of new and forgotten words. Owen led him back towards
the herd but kept out of sight.
“I show again?” said Owen, gesturing to the flowers Zach held.
“Yes, good show,” said Zach, glancing over his shoulder warily. “Again soon,”
he said, and Owen squeezed his hand. Zach didn’t watch him go.
 
===============================================================================
 
Owen returned to camp after dusk and Barry wasn’t the only one who noticed. The
raptors perked up when they sensed him and Owen had five sets of eyes on him
when he broke the tree line. He froze, but only for a second.
“Where have you been?” said Barry.
Owen shrugged. “Just scouting,” he said, and Blue hissed at the lie. “Hey, hey,
I wasscouting,” Owen said, his voice sterner.
Barry was lounging by a small fire using Delta as support for his back, and he
paused in his task of rubbing the stiffness of her legs when Owen spoke. “And
what did you find during your scouting mission that stole your attention for an
entire day?”
Owen unstrapped his shoes from his feet and sat down near Delta’s head. “His
name is Za-cuh,” he said, petting her between the eyes.
Barry sighed and even Blue huffed her disapproval. “Does this have anything to
do with the herd we’ve been following for the past few days?”
“That’s just coincidence,” said Owen, reaching for the meat that simmered above
the fire on a spit. He turned it a few times and didn’t meet Barry’s eyes.
“And the flower tucked into your collar?” asked Barry, clearly not willing to
let this go.
Owen knew it was the one he had tucked into Zach’s hair. The same one the boy
had rejected, looking so sad it had pained Owen. “It makes me feel pretty,”
said Owen, because it actually warmed his heart when he touched it.
Barry sighed and Delta sighed with him. “I thought we agreed on “no
distractions” after the last disaster,” he said, and the guilt forced Owen to
meet his eyes.
“It’ll be different this time, Barry,” he said, confident in his decision.
“Pack comes first, I’m not gonna leave you or the girls until the day I die.”
Barry answered his outstretched hand with one of his own, and the grip was firm
and reassuring. “I will follow you” it said, and Owen was happy to be trusted.
They had each other to count on, after all they had been through. They had lost
people, friends and family and mates, but Barry was a constant in Owen’s life
and vice-versa. The raptors had been a risky idea but had paid off tenfold.
Across the fire, Blue raised her head to scent the air. They had been wary
since the beginning of their journey, constantly following the wind and
covering as much ground as possible. They had no idea if they were still being
followed but if he was safer not to chance it. He wanted his girls far away
from their old hunting grounds and to never have to go back. Blue’s mate had
died and he wasn’t about to lose any more of them out of carelessness.
“You’ve met him,” he said, and Blue glanced at him with one vertical pupil.
Owen had once met her gaze and was found lacking. He would do everything in his
power to never fail her–any of them—ever again. “If he’s really that bad, then
I’ll stop seeing him.” Blue sent him a soft hiss. “Uh-uh, you can’t say that
until you’ve gotten to know him better,” he said. Charlie seemed to back him
up, always eager to please. Echo snapped at her but it held no weight.
“We should move on soon,” Barry warned.
“We will,” said Owen. “But for now the herd is moving in the same direction
were are. That means food,” he said.
“That also means risk,” said Barry. “And Za-cuh,” he said, and grinned when
Owen rolled his eyes.
“Just coincidence,” said Owen, though it was barely more than a mutter.
“Well, enjoy that coincidence,” said Barry. “For now,” he added, and though it
was said playfully, Owen knew it held a painful truth. He had gotten lucky so
far but there was no telling when Zach’s tribe would follow their herd in a
different direction and force Owen to let go of his budding relationship with
Zach, one of the most enigmatic herders Owen had ever met. And also the most
beautiful, even if Zach himself had not believed it. Owen didn’t know how he
would bear their parting when the time came.
Chapter End Notes
     For those who are wondering, Zach rides a Pachycephalosaurus. I love
     those pugnacious fuckers. And yes, flowers did start to appear in the
     Late Cretaceous. And no, Zach does not wear enough clothing to be
     served at McDonald's.
***** Blue *****
Chapter by DraxInTheSack_(Caddaren)
Chapter Summary
     Lost family and new feelings.
Chapter Notes
     This might be full of errors --though I did have my almost-Beta read
     through it, bless her-- but it was supposed to be up last week until
     I got too sick to type up the rest of what I had written beforehand.
     So here it is, sorry about the wait~~
Zach made excuses to be alone the next day. Gray gave him a look that assumed
enough to make Zach almost regret keeping Owen a secret. Instead of relenting,
Zach ignored him, told their parents he’d be back by sundown, and took Bree
into the forest. He made sure to take food with him this time, an assortment of
dried fruits, grains, and nuts that fit nicely in the pouch corded around his
ribs next to his water skin. He would forever deny packing a bit more food than
he usually did but Gray surely noticed.
They meandered for a while and Zach really did use the time to look for
anything that caught his eye. His gift could be anything from precious stones
to tree moss. Anything Kel’s family could trade or use. But nothing seemed to
fit, in Zach’s opinion. If it wasn’t for the fact her family had already gifted
a cow, Zach would have asked his parents to pull from their own lot and been
done with it.
Instead, Zach was stuck scavenging. He could make something personally, except
he didn’t have skills that Kel’s family didn’t also have; he was better off
getting some sort of resource and leaving the crafting to them. The finished
product would be better that way, and it would suit their needs more. He didn’t
want to shame himself by presenting a subpar gift when Kel’s family was so kind
and welcoming and had waited so long already.
He let Bree lead when she started steering them in a certain direction, because
while he didn’t sense anything, she obviously did, and he trusted her. She led
him right to a watering hole and, with it, Owen. Owen was dunking hide into the
pool and scrubbing his skin with it. He had some tools with him that looked
cleaned as well, and a whetstone laid next to his knee. Zach was curious about
the tool he didn’t recognize and also a bit daunted.
Owen heard them in the bushes and startled into action, grabbing his spear and
rising into a crouch instead of staying on his knees. When Owen recognized
them, he grinned and relaxed. “Come,” he called, his voice carrying over the
pond. “Come, I show!”
Zach frowned but couldn’t fight the certain fondness that tickled him when Owen
showed such enthusiasm. “Yes,” said Zach, already looking for a way across the
pond that didn’t involve risking the water on Bree’s back. Owen pointed him in
the direction of a shallow slope that led right to the muddy bank and Bree took
it with careful steps.
“Yes, good,” said Owen, clapping his hands as they came closer until he could
hug his arms around Bree’s neck and smother her with affection. Zach rolled his
eyes and slid off her back only to be swept into his own hug. He couldn’t do
much but yelp and wriggle like an animal caught in a trap. Owen laughed and
lifted him off his feet, presumably just because he could. Zach didn’t have the
heart to say no to him.
When Owen put him down Zach glared slightly and fixed the wrappings on his arms
–which, honestly, did not need adjusting but it gave him something to do with
his hands and it gave him an excuse not to meet Owen’s eyes. “Good morning,”
said Zach.
“Good,” said Owen, smile bright as the sun. Zach had to look away again.
“How are you?” he asked, and Owen frowned so he continued. “Good? Bad? Hungry?”
he said, rubbing his belly to demonstrate. “Hot? Cold? Tired?” for each one he
gestured to help Owen understand.
“I tired,” said Owen, rubbing at one eye. Zach didn’t think he looked any
different from the day before, but some people wore stress and exhaustion
better than others. Zach himself always looked close to death if he didn’t get
enough sleep, which used to scare his mother to no end when he was younger.
Zach wondered if Owen’s mother used to worry about her outwardly healthy son,
and if, maybe, he had a tell. Zach didn’t know him well enough to catch any but
he was getting better at reading the man’s expressions. He counted that as a
win and tried to ignore how happy it made him.
“That’s bad,” said Zach, kneeling down next to Owen’s tool to check the water.
“Water,” he said, letting it run through his fingers.
“Good water,” said Owen, and Zach nodded in agreement.
“Clean,” he said, then repeated the word until Owen said it correctly. “Give me
that,” he said, motioning towards Owen’s leather rag. Then he used it to wipe
down his arm. “Clean,” he said.
Owen grabbed his arm and stroked the skin, following the path of the rag with
his fingers. Zach didn’t protest, in fact he didn’t say anything at all, simply
watching the trails Owen took in an almost awestruck way. He had never been
touched like this by anyone outside his family circle. Owen’s touch was so
gentle Zach would barely feel it, and Owen was staring at his arm with an
intensity Zach had never experienced. He had witnessed it only a few times, and
the realization that it held a heat reserved for mates made his face burn. He
pulled his arm out of Owen’s grip but couldn’t shake his gaze.
Purposefully avoiding Owen’s eyes, he washed his hands. Owen’s hands joined his
in the water and Zach paused, staring at the foreign calluses on his fingers.
Zach wondered how rough they would feel against his own, and knew all he had to
do was reach out and he could see for himself. But he wouldn’t, didn’t, because
he might not understand what was affecting him to cause him to think such
strange thoughts but he knew this course of action was too irregular to justify
with tribal difference. Should he act, Owen would surely look at him with
confusion and Zach would have no words to explain. Zach couldn’t betray Owen’s
trust like that.
Instead he gave back the rag and gave Owen a smile before rising to his feet.
“Do you have anything to show?” he asked, and Owen’s face lit up.
“Yes, show!” he said, also standing. “No good for Bree,” he said, frowning.
“What is it you have to show me?” said Zach, already preparing for the worst.
“Blue,” he said, and he looked so hopeful that Zach hated to turn him down
without at least giving him a chance.
“Why?” he asked.
“Blue family,” said Owen. “Zach friend,” he said, as if it was only natural he
introduce Zach to one of the smartest predators in the forest.
“Not safe,” said Zach, because predators could be tamed or trusted.
“Safe,” said Owen, “very safe. Safe with Owen.”
Zach wanted to trust him, he really did, but not only did it seem like a
monumentally bad idea to make friends with a raptor, he also had nowhere to
send Bree without putting her at risk or raising suspicion should he return her
to the safety of the herd.
“No, I can’t,” said Zach, “she stays with me.”
Even if Owen could not understand all of Zach’s words, he knew enough to slump
and not meet Zach’s eyes.
“Sorry,” said Owen, standing up next to him. “No show,” he said, attempting to
smile. He began to gather his tools and slot them into place on his person.
Zach watched him, an indescribable ache in his chest growing until it overtook
everything but his fluttering heartbeat. Owen said something and, even though
it was in Zach’s language, Zach didn’t hear it. He stood as if in a trance as
an idea formed just behind his eyes.
“Show,” he said, and Owen raised an eyebrow. “Show!” he said again, this time
with more conviction. He took Owen’s hand, ignored how his face burned as if in
the sun, and led him away from the pool. Bree followed automatically and Owen
stopped hesitating after a few steps. Zach knew he could let go of the man’s
hand but found he had no wish to. When he glanced back at their entwined hands,
Owen was already staring at him. They made eye contact and Owen grinned like
something wonderful had happened.
“Show?” he asked. “Show what?”
“Cub,” he said, remembering what Owen had called Gray once before. “Gray,” he
said, elaborating, “my younger brother.”
“Gray,” said Owen. He smiled as if Zach had shared a secret with him. Which,
when Zach considered it, seemed appropriate.
“Family,” said Zach, and Owen squeezed his hand in response. They made quite a
bit of noise on their trek through the jungle, not by talking, as they fell
into a comfortable silence, but simply out of disregard for where they placed
their feet in the ferns. As they grew closer to the herd, Owen’s footsteps grew
quieter and he began to sneak more than anything. Zach didn’t like how serious
Owen grew only because it reminded him how much of a risk he was taking and
that Owen knew that risk too.
“Wait here,” said Zach, and he made sure Owen understood before he let go of
his hand and left him in the bushes where no one would stumble upon him unless
they went looking.
Gray was relatively easy to find and, thankfully, he was alone. It was a
constant toss-up between catching Gray surrounded by admirers or being subtly
excluded from the herd due to his wonder-child title. Zach didn’t know how his
brother could handle such extremes with such good grace, but he had never once
heard him complain.
“Gray,” he said, making his presence known as gently as possible so not to
startle him.
“Zach,” said Gray, touching his shoulder affectionately. “Weren’t you planning
on returning later?”
“Yes, but I have something to show you,” said Zach, watching Gray’s curiosity
grow on his face. “And then I have a favour to ask of you,” he added, but his
honesty did nothing to quell Gray’s enthusiasm. “Follow me,” he said, taking
Gray’s hand to lead him to Owen.
When they grew closer, Owen was nowhere to be found. Zach felt his stomach
tighten in the worst way. If Owen had left before Zach had time to return, not
only would Zach not be able to meet Blue—which he was still uncertain about—but
Owen and Gray wouldn’t meet. Owen had appeared perfectly happy to follow Zach
all the way here but had he left once he knew what Zach had planned? Maybe it
was for the best, even if it might upset Gray if he thought Zach tried to fool
him.
“Sorry,” said Zach, attempting to hide his disappointment, “I guess he ran
off.”
“Who?” said Gray, frowning.
“O-… no one,” said Zach. “Someone who wanted to meet you,” he said, giving Gray
a smile as he turned to face him. Gray was staring at something, wide-eyed and
slack jawed.
Zach turned and found himself face to face with Owen’s chest. He had no idea
where Owen had decided to hide without warning him beforehand but he was almost
thankful that Owen hadn’t hugged him close in front of Gray. He didn’t want
Gray knowing how personably Zach let Owen touch him on a regularly basis. While
Gray would by no means turn it against him, it would raise questions Zach
couldn’t answer.
Zach took a step back from Owen, putting enough space between them so he could
no longer smell the musk on his skin, and gestured to his brother. “Owen, this
is Gray, my younger brother,” he said, and Owen looked positively thrilled at
the introduction, like Zach knew he would.
“Cub!” Owen exclaimed, wrapping Gray up into his arms as if they had known each
other for years. Gray yelped in surprise and hung on like a leech when his feet
left the ground.
“Owen,” chided Zach, and Owen just grinned at him as he set Gray back on his
feet.
“Sorry,” he said, not looking sorry at all. He put a hand on Gray’s head and
ruffled his hair, broad palm practically covering everything between Gray’s
ears.
Gray laughed, carefree. “So this is who you’ve been hiding,” he said, catching
Owen’s arm and examining his clothes with quick eyes and quicker fingers. Owen
allowed it, even examining Gray himself. Zach watched and waited, careful about
how Owen treated his brother until he felt it was safe to assume Owen had no
hidden intent, and then relaxed. Owen smiled at him over Gray’s head and Zach
smiled back.
“He thought I was keeping secrets from him,” said Zach, and Owen frowned before
piecing together the meaning of his words.
“And I was right!” said Gray, whirling on Zach as if to give him a piece of his
mind. “Who is he? What tribe is he from? How much of our conversation can he
understand?” Gray was infamous for rapid-fire questions and Zach expected no
less of him. He didn’t normally mind, yet this time it put him on edge.
He didn’t know anything about Owen, nothing Gray would ask about, at least. He
knew Owen smelt like new leaves and had green eyes and his hands were big and
strong and he had a habit of holding onto Zach’s own when they walked, but none
of that felt like his to share. Owen would be better off speaking for himself,
lest Zach reveal something he shouldn’t. Then again, Owen didn’t know Zach’s
tribe and what was acceptable to reveal. Zach knew Gray wouldn’t care unless he
thought Zach was putting himself in danger. Which is exactly why they just
wouldn’t mention the raptors or why Zach needed Gray to watch Bree so he could
run off.
Owen and Gray had already entered a lengthy conversation by the time Zach came
back to himself and could interrupt them. He was frustrated to hear Owen
learned new words far faster under Gray’s guidance than his own. It irked him
in ways he hadn’t anticipated but he said nothing to dissuade them because Owen
had to learn somehow. Still, it hurt that even in this area Gray had managed to
take the spotlight. He absolutely did not sulk and pet Bree’s head as Gray and
Owen spoke in loud and excited tones; it was fortunate they had met far enough
away from the herd to not be overheard. He knew all too well how infectious
Gray’s enthusiasm could be. And Owen, from what he knew, was similarly easy to
excite.
Zach would have smiled if he wasn’t so busy trying not to look sullen. He was
also trying not to invade the privacy of their conversation—which made it
difficult to predict the best time to interrupt and remind Owen of their plans
for the day. Perhaps it was for the best, as then Zach wouldn’t need to leave
Bree behind and endanger himself to the humour of Owen’s ideas of family with
predators far more likely to love Zach for his ready-to-eat fleshy exterior
than his personality.
He began to forage as his brother told a story with wild gestures and wild
eyes. Owen looked positively adoring of him. It made sense, as a man Owen’s age
had likely taken a mate and had children of his own, who would be close to
Gray’s age. Zach could only make assumptions, of course, because he knew
nothing about Owen or any family he might have. The very idea made Zach’s
stomach twist, however, so he decided he’d rather not think on it.
“Zach?” Owen says you have something you need to do but he can’t get all the
words right,” said Gray, his story ended. Zach tried not to visibly perk up.
“He’s going to bring me to his family,” said Zach, choosing his words wisely,
as the Elders did when they led ceremonies.
“So you thought it was fair for him to meet me? What about Mom and Dad? Are
they going to meet him?”
Zach looked down. “I didn’t plan on it,” he said, hoping Gray wouldn’t insist.
Maybe the allure of being part of a secret would distract him from wondering
why Zach was keeping secrets from their parents in the first place.
“How long will you be gone?” asked Gray, which didn’t calm Zach’s nerves any.
He pointed at the sun and then at the canopy: until the sun fell. “Alright, I
can watch out for them while you’re gone,” said Gray, and Zach stared at him.
“Are you sure?”
Gray shrugged. “Telling them wouldn’t do me any good and he makes you happy
from what I can see, I want him to stay. I want to teach him more, too, and
learn what he is willing to teach in return.”
“That’s… wow, Gray, thanks,” said Zach, overwhelmingly proud of his brother for
his maturity.
“I also want to study his eating habits,” said Gray, almost abruptly, “because
he mentioned a meat based diet and he’s bigger than anyone in our tribe.” At
his words, Owen grinned and pounded a fist to his chest with a certain amount
of masculinity. Zach choose to focus on his brother but found it difficult to
do so.
“I also need you to watch Bree,” said Zach, “to keep her out of trouble,” he
clarified, as Gray called her over and bid her to stay close to him.
“And who’s to keep you out of trouble if she’s with me?” asked Gray, but Zach
didn’t have an answer for him.
Owen stepped forward looking earnest and Zach wondered if he misheard “trouble”
as “danger” and thought they were doubting his ability to fight and protect.
His strength would certainly come in handy should something go wrong but Zach
didn’t want him rushing headfirst just to prove something. Gray, however,
seemed completely satisfied with this solution which wounded Zach’s pride
enough for him to protest.
“I don’t need protecting,” he said, “that’s not why he’s here!”
Gray shrugged. “Yet he’s here, stay out of harm’s way regardless,” he said,
leading Bree away. He was only trying to look out for his older brother, which
Zach appreciated, so Zach let the conversation drop.
At Gray’s departure, Owen looked forlorn and perhaps even a bit lost. Zach took
pity on him, unsure what memories Gray’s appearance had stirred up. “Show?” he
said, attempting a supportive smile.
Owen lit up a bit. “Blue!” he said, “I show Blue!”
“Family,” said Zach, much preferring Owen happy and boisterous over
melancholic.
“My family,” Owen said, grabbing hold of Zach’s hand and pulling him away from
the herd. “Big family,” he said.
“Mine?” asked Zach. “Or yours?”
Owen paused, moving the ferns out of his way and refusing to let go of Zach’s
hands even if it meant he could do so more efficiently. “Yours,” he said, “many
family,” he said. “Siblings? Parents?”
“Just Gray, my brother, no sisters,” said Zach, “My mother’s family, mostly.
Older relatives.”
“Mother,” said Owen, rolling the word around on his tongue. “What is this
mean?”
“Mother is… female, old… mine.”
“Your old female?”
“I am her son,” said Zach, and when Owen looked back at him for clarifications,
Zach mimed a pregnant belly and then pretended to hold a baby to his breast as
he would if he were a woman. “Gray and I are hers,” he said, trying to stress
the possession.
Owen’s face lit up in recognition, and Zach was happy to have been the one to
teach him such an important word. He wished he could ask about Owen’s family
yet he struggled with the words. His stomach clenched at the very idea and he
didn’t know why such a topic affected him so—why Owen affected him so—so he
forced himself to ask and get it over with.
“Your family, is it big?”
Owen smiled but Zach could see the pain around his eyes and vowed never to pry
into it again. It was no business of his anyway. “Small,” said Owen, “once very
big… now small.”
Zach bowed his head and stared at their hands. “I’m sorry,” he said, chiding
himself for asking.
“Big family,” said Owen, and Zach wondered if he was simply repeating the words
until he also said, “mothers, cubs, brothers, big love.”
Zach had no idea how Owen learned to say love but it pained him on the inside
to hear it. Losing family was the worst pain one could bear. He squeezed Owen’s
hand in his, as Owen often did to him, and hoped it comforted him. They may not
know each other very well, or even for very long, and yet Zach didn’t want Owen
to hurt, and he would do his best to keep the hurt at bay. He had few words, so
he would make do with gestures. A hug would be appropriate at the moment, but
Owen often hugged at strange times and Zach didn’t know if that assumption of
familiarity would be welcome. They were not family or even friends, and so Zach
settled for holding Owen’s hand.
“Cubs?” he asked, because he couldn’t help himself and he wanted Owen to be
comfortable enough to tell him more. “Your… cubs?”
Owen stopped and turned to look at him. Zach let go of his hand, certain he was
angry at Zach’s abrasiveness. Instead, Owen looked like he was struggling with
his words. Zach waited, if only because it was the only thing he could do. “My
cubs,” said Owen, and Zach felt increasingly uncomfortable with the subject.
“My mate,” he said, “family… lost.”
Zach officially felt cruel for pushing the subject; he didn’t know whether to
stay quiet or to apologize profusely and never open his mouth again. This
seemed like a perfect situation to be mute, really. It was difficult to even
raise his eyes from the ground and they stung a bit. He was crying for a pain
that wasn’t even his. He hoped Owen wouldn’t take some sort of offense. He
wiped his eyes and made to apologize, but Owen caught his hand and pulled it
away from his face, forcing their eyes to meet. Owen’s eyes were similarly red
but Zach too no comfort in their likeness because it meant he made Owen cry.
“The loss pains,” said Owen, “but good you ask. Meet family,” he said, “family
grow stronger.”
Zach only understand half of Owen’s meaning but he knew Owen was pardoning him
and reasserting his invitation to meet Blue, who, from what Zach understood,
Owen included in his circle despite obvious risks. Zach smiled and clasped
Owen’s hands between his own. “You’re strong,” he said, “your family is strong
as well, they must be.” From what Zach could tell, Owen be an invaluable asset
in any family and he held many traits women looked for in mates. Strong parents
made strong children, or “cubs” as Owen said. Zach wondered what had happened
to take Owen’s family away from him. He wished to undo it, whatever it was. Yet
he doubted saying so would do any good, so he kept quiet.
Owen grinned and thumped his chest, and Zach nodded in agreement. “Strong,” he
said, just so Owen could hear it again. The man visibly preened and said a few
things Zach couldn’t make out. As long as Owen was no longer sad, Zach thought,
Owen could say whatever he wanted.
Owen led him so far Zach knew he wouldn’t be able to find his way back if he
couldn’t track their footprints. He’d have to make sure he had enough sunlight
left to do so if Owen wasn’t willing to guide him. Zach was also startled at
the distance, as it meant Owen trekked so far each time he chose to visit Zach,
and that each time Zach had happened upon Owen—like that morning—Owen had
already travelled into the herd’s area. And, since travelling alone was never
safe or even fun, this meant Owen was either putting himself at risk… or he
didn’t travel alone.
Zach had already seen him bring the four raptors within hunting distance of the
herd, on the very first day they met, so what was stopping them from picking a
meal from the herd every time Owen led them close to Zach and his family? Why
hadn’t they before? Zach had no doubt Owen and his raptors had been hunting the
first day, choosing Bree as their target had just been coincidental
circumstance. Predators lived on a starvation diet, as Gray called it, meaning
they would hunt until they were successful, gorge themselves, and then not hunt
against for days, maybe even weeks. Zach had trouble imagining it, as the herd
lived on small and frequent meals every day, but he knew it to be true from
experiences of pure terror and panic since childhood. Owen, however, probably
lived off the meat his hunters provided if he didn’t have an actual herd to
follow.
Owen camp was not what he was expecting. For one, he only assumed it was a
camp—presumably for what was left of Owen’s tribe and not just for the man
himself—by how many tools and personal belongings were lying about. There was a
distinct lack of mounts, dried food, or even people. It was very much a
temporary living space, not simply nomadic as Zach’s tribe but also impersonal
and haphazard. Maybe life based around predators instead of prey was far less
perilous and there was no need to worry about food or resources. But there was
also very little in terms of comfort, which concerned Zach if only because it
was all so different than the padded sleep rolls and family heirlooms he was
used to taking up space. Where was everyone, he thought, and why would they
leave their camp unguarded?
Owen let go of his hand and Zach wandered from spot to spot, investigating this
strange way of life. Every time he checked to see if it was okay to prod at
something, Owen was smiling and watching him, nodding his encouragement as if
Zach wasn’t invading his space and disrupting it. Overall, Zach was mildly
confused and incredibly awestruck by the man and his possessions, and he
displayed that with careful prodding, wary stares, and involuntary gasps of
excitement.
“Za-cuh,” said Owen, the sounds still stilted and slow on his tongue. Zach
retracted his hand from his search and prepared himself. Or tried to. He had
met Blue once before but that been when she was trying to eat him. That might
still be the case, but hopefully Owen could prevent that. And if Owen ended up
laughing in his face and sacrificing Zach to his raptors, then by this point
Zach only had himself to blame.
He exhaled and it was shaky, and yet Owen’s smile calmed him. It also helped
when he took Zach’s hand and squeezed. “Blue will like you,” said Owen,
stroking up Zach’s arm gently.
“She’s more likely to find me tasty than she is to want to be my friend,” said
Zach, nothing more than a mutter.
“No,” said Owen, understanding enough to argue against him. “Blue will like
you,” he said, firm and sure of himself and everything Zach’s wasn’t feeling
presently. It didn’t help that when Blue did appear, she made him feel small
and scared. His fight or flight instinct nearly tore him apart, with one half
vowing to be courageous and stand by Owen because he wanted to trust the man,
and the other side screaming at him to run. Had he really known Owen long
enough to trust him with his life? What if Owen was secretly from a warrior
tribe seeking to conquer Zach’s own?
All outlandish theories left him when Owen whistled softly and Zach spotted
movement in the trees. An orange eye stared at him through the low-hanging
leaves, and immediately Zach realized he was being watched from the moment Owen
had led him to camp. The fact Blue—he assumed this eye belonged to Blue—had
only shown herself when Owen called also told Zach she was doing as she chose,
and if she wanted him for supper she would have struck when he was unaware.
Raptors were smart, after all. Smarter than Zach and his family and the herd in
its entirety. He feared raptors not out of paranoia or cowardice but from
experience.
His nails bit into Owen’s hand as Blue approached, her head bobbing with each
step. Her posture remained friendly, if a bit stiff, but all Zach could see
where those wicked claws on her forepaws and the thick, gutting one on her hind
feet. His breath came in short, almost pained gasps, and for a moment he
thought he wasn’t breathing at all, but he did not back away. Owen remained a
solid presence at his side, which helped Zach keep his feet planted in place.
Blue stared at him, unblinking, for what felt like ages. Zach stared back, and
realized this could be the very last thing some people saw. It might be the
last thing he saw, for as much as he trusted Owen there was no way the man
could react fast enough to save him from her powerful jaws. It wasn’t a
terribly way to die, at least it would be over quickly. At least he wasn’t
leaving anyone behind outside of his family. And Owen. Zach’s heart ached at
the thought, but he didn’t think it would be appropriate to tell the man that.
Owen reached out with his spare hand and placed his palm on the smooth skin of
Blue’s snout. “Blue,” he said, and then spoke something that Zach heard his
name in. He assumed he was being introduced and therefore didn’t know how to
properly proceed. He didn’t want to be so forward as to touch her face, as Owen
did, nor could he exactly speak to her. But he tried anyways.
“Buh-loo,” he said, and it felt odd to say, soft and stretched out without any
hard sounds to make at the back of his throat. It reminded him of Owen’s name,
and he wondered if Owen had named her purposefully.
Her attention stayed on him, and Owen kept speaking in his own tongue. The
longer he spoke, the more relaxed Blue grew. Owen removed his hand from her
head, then reached for Zach’s instead. He guided Zach to the soft scales on the
ridge of her nose and gently laid his hand there, and Zach prayed Blue wouldn’t
take his arm as payment for the familiarity. Instead of anything so drastic,
she huffed a long breath and blinked slowly, the first time since she had made
eye contact with Zach in the first place
“Buh-loo,” he said again, and Owen was standing so close to his back that he
felt him chuckle and the puff of air hit the back of his neck. “She’s
beautiful,” he said, despite knowing Owen wouldn’t know what he meant.
Owen surprised him by smiling and translating for him, to which Blue rumbled
softly. Zach didn’t want to be so forward as to say he had made friends with
her so quickly, but he was happy to be in her good graces for the most part.
She moved away after that, however, and found a spot in the shade to lay down
and rest. Owen led Zach after her and took a seat with his back against her
side, like Zach would sit with Bree after exceptionally tiring days. It struck
him that Blue was to Owen as Bree was to him, and that thought had him sitting
down with Owen without so much as a pause.
“Is this safe?” he asked, wary but not protesting when Owen directed him
between his knees and pulled him back so he leaned against the man’s chest. He
had never been held in such a way, yet it was not uncomfortable in anyway.
Quite the opposite, in fact, and he allowed Owen to wrap him up in his big arms
and cradle him like one might a child.
Or a mate.
                                                                                            
But that didn’t mean anything to Zach because he was not a woman and Owen was
not a woman either, and so he couldn’t produce any children with Owen. Their
union would be impractical and fruitless. Zach had never seen two men bond as
if they were mates, the very idea was completely unheard of. It puzzled him,
making him frown down at Owen’s hand where it was all wrapped up in his. Surely
there was some other explanation for Owen’s behaviour beyond some misguided
attempt at mating with Zach. He knew that Zach was a man because Zach had
explained the difference between man and woman and even related himself to
Owen, and Owen had accepted that explanation as fact.
So then… what was this?
Zach decided not to think too hard on it, even if it weighed on his mind. Owen
was saying something next to his ear, speaking to Blue in hushed, calming tones
as he petted her neck with one hand. With every stroke of his hand, his body
moved against Zach’s back. There was heat pooling in his belly but Zach didn’t
know how to label it other than “confusing” so he left it alone and decided to
ignore that as well.
He must have dozed off to Owen chatting and Blue chittering back in response,
both sounds low and soothing. The sun was sinking low when he awoke, startled
by his unfamiliar surroundings. He was curled up against Blue’s side, covered
in what looked like a thin cut of leather to keep the bugs away while he slept.
She glanced back at him with one eye before turning her head back to watch
Owen, who seemed to be turning something over a fire. It smelt heavenly but
also made Zach hesitate. He didn’t know if he could handle eating an animal
that someone could’ve raised and bonded with.
Rising, he folded the skin and hung it over his arm and carried it to Owen, who
noticed him awaken and beckoned him closer to the fire. He smiled and stood,
taking Zach’s hand. Zach looked over his shoulder to where Blue was watching
him. “I need to go,” he said, and hated how Owen’s face fell. “It’s getting
late, and dark.”
Owen nodded in understanding and let out a short whistle that Blue perked up
at. She followed it with her own, and then after a few minutes two more sounds
came from the underbrush. Zach didn’t know what it meant but immediately after
the fourth and final whistle Owen guided him away from the camp. He maneuvered
his way towards the herd as if by memory, which impressed Zach just a bit.
“Go,” said Owen, when they stopped just on the edge of the herd’s resting spot.
There was sweat clinging to his clothes which furthered Zach’s assumption of
its impracticality, and he plucked at the growing wet spots with no small
curiosity as sun dipped even lower.
Owen grinned and caught his fingers, then chased him a bit when Zach twisted
away, laughing. Zach didn’t take the game too seriously and let himself be
caught after just a short dash. He needed to get back to his family before the
sun set and they worried about him, but Owen’s grin was so big and he was
surprisingly quick for one so large.
“Go,” said Zach, but Owen’s face was so close to his and he couldn’t breathe as
if he was facing down Blue for the first time again. Owen’s grin fell away into
something softer and he squeezed Zach’s trapped wrist once.  Zach stared at him
because he seemed to have something he wanted to say, but nothing came. Owen
nodded, smiled, and slipped away.
Zach held his own wrist, fingers too slender to replace the width of Owen’s own
in anything but a sad replica of the real thing from just a few seconds before.
He broke the boundary of the camp with the look on his face dazed and blissful.
It didn’t last long, as he could hear people arguing with raised voices and
impatient tones. He found Gray quickly and pulled him away from the trouble,
thankful for the distraction to hide his return.
“What’s going on?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder towards the commotion.
Gray peeked around his arm but did not try to go back.
“The Elders are fighting,” said Gray.
“Fighting about what?” he asked, but Gray didn’t answer him because he was too
distracted by what was probably the first—and hopefully the last—confrontation
within the tribe that he had ever seen. “Gray,” he said, taking his brother’s
shoulders and demanding his attention, “fighting about what?”
“Me,” said Gray, and his voice was so small and quiet that Zach thought he
might have misheard. But there were confused tears in Gray’s eyes and Zach
believed him. He pulled Gray further away from the large fire that lit the
fight and led him to their sleeping rolls, wrapping them both up underneath the
thick skin coverings and shielding his ears from the sounds with his palms so
Gray could close his eyes and fall asleep.
His mother returned after the fighting had stopped and met his eyes. Her own
were bloodshot and her hair was slightly out of place as if she had been
running her fingers through it with nerves. She didn’t say a word even when she
noticed Gray curled up next to him. Exhaustion took him long before his
thoughts quieted.
 
 
***** Bones *****
Chapter by DraxInTheSack_(Caddaren)
Chapter Summary
     Obligations, and sweet, slow release.
Chapter Notes
     Hello again, I hope the length makes up for the inactivity!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
“Look,” said Zach.
“Look,” said Owen repeating it back to him. Zach had no idea if Owen as
actually learning anything or just trying to make him happy. Either way, he
felt like they had been working for hours and were long overdue for a break. He
sighed and leaned back on his hands, closing his eyes and letting the sun wash
over his face.
“Look?” asked Owen, smiling.
“No,” said Zach, “rest now. Look later.”
“Look for what?”
This was the same thing he had been trying to explain since they started but he
feared something very important was being lost in translation.
“A gift,” he said, but that was where Owen’s understanding stopped. “For my
mate.” And, honestly he wondered why this was so difficult for Owen to wrap his
head around. “I need a gift to please her family and mate with her. It’s
tradition.” He said.
“Soon?” asked Owen, clearly seeing his stress.
“Yes, soon. I must present a gift before the rut or wait,” he said, letting
himself fall back and lay on the ground, his legs stretched out next to Owen.
“Rut?” repeated Owen, attempting to make sense of his words. “What is this?”
Zach felt his face burn and wandered if he should find shelter from the sun. He
frowned a bit and rubbed his hot cheeks, ignoring the strange tumbling in his
stomach. “The rut for the herd. It’s where… it’s…” He had never before felt shy
when speaking of it. There was nothing to be ashamed of a natural cycle of
fertility and birth that existed in all beings. But Owen was looking at him, he
knew, and Zach struggled to find the right words to explain.
“The rut… males and females of the herd mate,” his throat caught and he cleared
it, “they mate and produce young when we reach the nesting grounds.”
“Men and women?” asked Owen, wariness tinting his voice.
Zach’s mouth suddenly felt dry and he wished he could wash the sensation away.
“Yes,” he said, “they mate.”
“Mates,” said Owen. “You… have mate.”
“Soon,” said Zach, voice void of excitement.
“This does not… please you?” asked Owen.
Zach didn’t have a good answer for him. Instead, he sat up and put on a show of
good cheer. “Let’s look now,” he said, a strong smile on his face. Owen caught
his hand, however, and kept him from standing and avoiding the question. He
also caught Zach’s chin and turned him so they were face to face again, the eye
contact speared directly through him like a physical pain but he refused to
look away.
“Za-cuh,” said Owen. “Are you… happy?” The question wasn’t safe to answer; it
didn’t matter if he was happy with the arrangement. He was doing it for his
family. When he stayed silent, Owen frowned and pinched his chin -just sharply
enough to make him yelp- then cupped the sore flesh in a warm palm. Zach
refused to close his eyes when Owen scrutinized him with knowing eyes.
“You aren’t happy.” He said, hand still resting on Zach’s jaw.
“I’m happy now,” he said, because it was true and he didn’t want Owen to worry
any longer.
“You aren’t happy with mate,” said Owen, hand shifting to Zach’s cheek and
holding almost reverently. It made Zach feel precious, almost like an idol, a
womanly form carved into wood as a symbol of life and fertility and held
carefully in scarred hands and close to warm breasts for protection. Owen
cradled him with the same care, calluses tracing patterns into Zach’s skin as
his thumb moved. That scared him, confused him, and he never wanted it to end.
“That doesn’t matter,” said Zach, because his own happiness was low on his list
of priorities. He was meant to mate and bond with Kel; nothing would change
that.
“It should,” said Owen, refusing to let go.
Zach pushed his hand away instead of leaning into it. The conversation had gone
on for long enough and he didn’t need Owen sowing seeds of doubt in his mind.
He had no other realistic options and this was best for his family. “Don’t,” he
said, and yet Owen persisted.
Owen took his hand as if to beseech him, but Zach wanted to stand and pace and
put some space between them. Zach tried to pull away but Owen’s grip only
tightened, fraying his nerves. “Stop,” said Zach, pulling again. As if sensing
his growing frustration, or perhaps seeing it on his face, Owen released him
and made a show of giving him his space.
“Please,” said Owen, hands to himself, “stay.” Zach glared at him, but the
trust between them was not so damaged that Zach did not pause and give him a
chance to speak. Once given an opportunity, Owen held his hands out cautiously
and beamed in his blinding way when Zach allowed their fingers to touch once
again.
“I want to know,” said Owen, his hands open and warm and welcoming. Zach
watched him trace along the lines of his palms and then did the same in return.
It was only after a wait did Zach answer him.
“I must do it,” said Zach. “She is a good woman and her family is strong within
our community. She has given a gift and I accepted, and I must find her a gift
in return,” he said.
“You must,” said Owen, “but you are not happy. You... give for family.”
“She is a good woman,” Zach repeated, “and I will find happiness in the family
we make.”
Owen stared at him with a strange look in his eye, as if he was considering
Zach’s words. “I understand,” he said, finally. “I will help, we must go,” he
said standing before Zach could protest.
“Go where?” Zach asked, following his lead. They had met up some distance away
from the herd, and nearby Bree grazed on low plants, and now Owen moved them
farther away.
“Show,” said Owen, and yet his voice did not hold the usual energy. They held
each other’s hands but Owen wasn’t filling the silence as the normally would so
Zach thought it best to stay silent as they were walked.
They walked for what felt like ages and still Owen said nothing. He appeared
deep in thought, and each time Zach attempted to rouse him from his own mind he
received monosyllabic answers and grunts in return for his efforts.
“Owen,” he said, tugging on the man’s hand to pull him to a stop. “Owen, we’ve
walked for enough, please tell me where we’re going.”
Owen glanced at him and released his hand, making Zach’s stomach twist
painfully.
“I have upset you,” said Zach, believed Owen wasn’t vindictive enough to be
cruel to him despite his obvious anger. “You’re not happy,” he said, stealing
Owen’s words from earlier.
It took a moment for Owen to react more than clenching his hands into fists. “I
want you to be happy,” said Owen. “I will do everything in my power to make you
happy,” he said but Zach couldn’t understand why, or why he looked so sad. “I
will help you and your mate find happiness.”
With that, he pointed and refused to move further, leaving Zach to walk the
last short distance alone. Zach glanced at him but found no clues on his face.
The last few steps brought him through the underbrush and face to face with
large, hollow eyes. He froze, staring at the skeleton before him, and tried to
figure out why Owen had led him there. The kill looked fresh, though picked
clean by scavengers. A few small predators lingered but they quickly scampered
away at his approach.
Owen came to stand beside him. “Gift,” he said, not elaborating further.
“Why?” asked Zach.
“For you,” said Owen, “for your mate. To make you happy.” He said.
It struck Zach then that Owen was trying to help him despite having no reason
to. He wouldn’t benefit from Zach and Kel bonding well, and surely leading Zach
around all day was a waste of his time. Maybe his raptors missed him, or
whoever else the man kept as family in his herd. Just because he no longer had
a mate or children didn’t mean he didn’t have relationships to uphold.
“Thank you,” said Zach, humbled, “you didn’t have to do this.”
“I did,” said Owen, sounding surprisingly fierce in his voice. “To make you
happy,” he said.” If I can’t make you happy… Then I will help your mate.”
“I don’t understand,” said Zach, crouching down to examine the remains with a
stricter eye. Owen let him investigate unhindered. In fact, he said nothing at
all. “Owen?” said Zach, but when he turned, the man was gone. “Owen?” He called
again, optimistic for some reason. He even searched for signs of man’s
departure only to come up empty-handed. Zach frowned, not understanding Owen’s
actions, and leading a group back to fully collect from the carcass would
undoubtedly have to wait till morning. First and foremost, he could at least
bring a few of the finer bones to prove the existence of the gift he had been
searching for since the announcement of the pending union nearly two weeks
prior.
The teeth would do nicely as an official gift, thick and sharp enough to make
decent tools for Kel’s family. He wiggled a few out of the gummy remains of the
predator’s mouth, grunting with the effort, and moved to the forearm to steal a
few knuckle bones as well. The sun sunk steadily as he worked and he had to be
wary of its progress; or he would put himself at risk. He worked as quickly and
quietly and alone, endangered by Owen’s disappearance. And yet, even as he
quickened his pace and trusted his feet to carry him through the forest and
leave a simple print trail to follow, Zach, through some sort of self-
preservation, sensed he was being escorted to the safety of his tribe. Despite
himself, Zach was smiling as he reached the outskirts of the herd where some
animals still grazed while others rested, and he could already hear the sounds
of his tribe preparing for sundown. Any and all valuables had to be packed up
and secured on their mounts and children rounded up for early bedtimes. Zach
wanted to fall into bed himself, but he need to find his mother first.
Gray found him before anyone else, Bree, hot on his heels, and hugged him
briefly in greeting. “You were gone a long time today,” said Gray, not
unkindly.
Zach felt better knowing his brother was no longer in the dark about Owen and
Zach’s daily adventures.
“I finally found something,” said Zach, grin growing as he fed off Gray’s
anticipation. He untied the pouch from his torso and plucked a sharp tooth out
with as much care as he could muster under the circumstances. Gray’s eyes grew
wide and he reached with eager hands. Zach let him take it. “Keep it,” he said,
knowing he would have enough for Kel’s family. Gray was born around this time
of year, unlike everyone else in the tribe who entered the world following the
traditional fertility cycle. It was just another way Gray was special, and just
another reason the Elders believed him Chosen.
“Have you shown Mother yet? The ceremony must be arranged,” he said.
Zach shook his head. “Find her for me?”
“They might still be arguing,” said Gray, “but I will bring her here.”
Zach patted his shoulder and sent him running off, then turned to Bree to give
her the attention she deserved. She had been neglected the past few days,
losing Zach’s attention to Owen. Zach felt just a bit guilty about it and was
happy to have her close again.
“I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing the soft scales of her nose. She bumped him just
enough to make him teeter on his feet, and he knew all was forgiven. Still,
Zach felt the need to make it up to her; he’d find something special for her to
eat.
Gray led their mother away from the crowd, and she hugged him when she came
close. “I didn’t tell her,” said Gray, bouncing on his heels. “Tell her, tell
her!”
She looked to him expectantly and Zach simply held out a bone like the one he
had given Gray.
“I found a gift,” he said, and his mother took it from his fingers carefully to
inspect it. “An entire skeleton,” he added, because a singular bone would
hardly make a very impressive gift.
“Zach,” his mother said, happy tears in her eyes. He wasn’t sure why, but she
pulled him into another hug and he went willingly. “I’m so proud of you,” she
said, and over her shoulder, Zach could see Gray grinning ear to ear. He
laughed and only then noticed he was crying along with his mother for some
reason. “You’re going to be so happy,” she said, rubbing a hand between his
shoulder blades as if to comfort him. “You’ve grown into a fine man. I can’t
believe I have to give you away,” she said, well aware if Kel’s family ever
split from the herd for whatever reason that Zach would follow his mate and
children.
Before Zach could say anything, however, she pulled away, held him at shoulder
length and said, “Now, we must tell the others and present the gift to Kel.
Where is the rest of the skeleton?”
“I left it in the woods, but I can lead others to it in the morning,” he said.
“Wonderful,” she said, “come, come, it’s time to prepare for the best day of
your life!”
 
--
 
When Zach led Kel’s family and a few other tribe members to the carcass, Kel
kissed him in the heat of the moment. The others had cheered, already working
to dismantle the prize into manageable parts, and Zach’s face had burned from
the attention. At the presentation of his bond gift to her after such a long
time coming, Kel seemed perfectly happy again. Zach busied himself with the
work for as long as he could but once they returned to camp, his parents
snagged him.
“The ceremony will be tonight,” his mother said.
“Cutting it a little close, but that rut won’t wait for any of us,” his father
said, and Zach knew this was where he was meant to laugh in response, but he
could only remain passive as they led him to where the tribe had begun the
preparations already. There was food being stockpiled, gifts from various
families within the herd that would all come together to support his union
regardless of friendship and familiarity. Bonds were no trivial thing as they
brought two families together and brought new life into the world. Zach was
still shrouded by the mystery of his family line. The tribe waited with baited
breath to see whether he was cursed with what his parents suffered from, or
blessed with what Gray had come to be. Zach himself had no idea which one would
be less of a hassle. Only the Rut would tell.
“Oh, Zach, I have something to show you,” his mother said now digging through
one of the packs they usually kept tied to their largest mount. She turned and,
in her hands, he was stunned to see a beautiful coat, soft to the touch, when
he reached out and by far one of the fanciest pieces of clothing he had ever
seen. “Think Gray will like it? We’ve been working on it for a long time,” she
said, and the feel of the coat turned coarse under his fingertips.
Zach wet his lips and said, “It’s lovely. I’m sure he’ll be pleased. When will
you be give it to him?”
“Tomorrow,” she said, “tonight is your night.”
His father nodded, and Zach accepted because there wasn’t anything else he
could do. It wasn’t Gray’s fault, and on some level, it wasn’t his parents
fault either. The celebration of Gray’s birth was traditionally aligned with
the coming of the Rut, and since the Elders proclaimed Gray a gift of fertility
from the Gods, the party always started in the morning before social tensions
were too high and ended with mating pairs mounting each other. This would be
the first year Zach would have his own mate and he wouldn’t be there to help
the older children watch the younger ones. He wondered how Gray would handle
his newfound responsibility without his help.
“Now go,” his father said, “Kel’s family would like to dress you for the
ceremony.” And so he went.
 
--
 
Kel looked beautiful in the skins Zach’s mother had given her. He could see the
laughter in her eyes as she danced to the beat of the drums with her family.
With each step they welcomed him into their fold as a brother, a son, and a
mate. He couldn’t help but watch her, his own grin on his face, insecurities
forgotten beneath her overwhelming acceptance of him and all his flaws. This
was the woman he would dedicate his life to, and in that moment, he saw no
reason to hesitate.
It was only after his own family came together – aunts, uncles, cousins, all
united by his grandmother and his blood – and performed their own bond dance to
thank Kel for accepting him, and offering her blood for the continuation of his
family (his mother had no daughters to depend the future of the family on),
when he and Kel were sat next to each other as the clan presented them with
small gifts, that doubt gripped him in the chest. He stared out at nothing as
the fire danced and the tribe spoiled themselves in their name. Kel held his
hand in hers and they fed each other slowly, to symbolize their future
dependence on each other. Their lives were now entwined, and he’d be leaving
the protection of his family for hers, sleeping with them, eating with them,
and traveling with them. He and Kel were bound to have children and yet for all
he protested the label, Zach still felt like a child himself.
His hands were shaky when he rose and embraced his family members, old and new,
in goodnight as the celebration drew to a close. Gray refused to cry in fear of
backlash from those who only recently began to scrutinize their family, and yet
Zach knew his own eyes were shiny and would be red in the morning.
“I’m not leaving you,” said Zach, hugging him close. “I’ll be right across
camp.”
But Gray only shook his head and squeezed him once before letting go.
“You will be happy,” said Gray, nodding fiercely as if that would make it true,
and Zach nodded with him.
“Don’t be a stranger,” his mother said, hand on his back as his father embraced
him so tightly he could hear the heartbeat from his father’s chest.
“I’ll be here,” he promised, his laughter tasting bittersweet. They stepped
back and he took Kel’s hand, returning her smile with a nervous one of his own.
She and her family led him to their usual resting area and each said their
goodnight before placing down their mats. Kel squeezed his hand and put their
mats close together.
“The Rut starts tomorrow,” she said, no doubt already feeling an itch. The herd
was acting antsy and while none of the males had begun to present and no female
had initiated a match, some bulls had started mock fighting and reasserting
their place in the hierarchy. “Our family starts tomorrow. Are you excited?”
said Kel, her hand straying to his groin as she kissed him.
“Nervous,” said Zach, not sure what he was feeling even as his body tingled
oddly.
Her smile was blinding. “Goodnight, Zach,” she said.
“Goodnight, Kel. Sleep well,” he said, and they laid down together amidst the
sounds of the herd, the scent of the grass beneath their leather bedding and
the stars twinkling above them.
But Zach couldn’t sleep.
No matter how long he waited for sleep to come, long after Kel dozed off and
camp activity died down to nothing at all, and the night watchers had circled
over and over on their careful guard. He fought so hard to lose himself that he
didn’t realize it was his rapid thoughts that kept him from doing so. After
what felt like ages, Zach admitted to himself what he had been ignoring all
day. He missed Owen.
It had only been a day and yet the separation grated on him like badly fitted
clothes, or a new scab. Something about Owen nagged him and when he thought
about the man, Zach knew he had upset Owen and stupidly not noticed. He didn’t
want to part on such a note when he was about to start a new chapter of his
life.
Standing, Zach pulled the coverings back over Kel and crept from the boundaries
of camp as quietly as he could to avoid waking someone and raising questions.
When footsteps approached, he froze, willing his pale skin to blend into the
underbrush. The man was muttering to himself but Zach was too frightened to
look until he had walked a good distance away. It was the same man who Zach’s
parents had been fighting with, but Zach couldn’t afford to spare a moment of
thought on what the man was doing up at such an hour and where he was going.
He couldn’t risk finding Bree with the herders watching out, but from the
safety of the underbrush, he softly called to her in hopes she would hear and
follow him without being seen. He watched her head perk up and her make her way
to his hiding place. She grunted at him but he feared being heard, so he
chuckled softly and hopped onto her back.
“We’re going to see Owen,” he said, whispering in her ear.
Bree grunted again and took off at a good pace without his direction. There
must have been a trail for her to follow, which made him wonder if Owen had
come looking for him. Had Owen seen the celebration and understood how
important it was? Zach owed the man a lot; without Owen’s help, Zach would have
never found an appropriate gift, last of all so soon. There was nothing Zach
could do to repay him, but he assumed he could at least express his gratitude.
How was he to convey the weight of the ceremony and the budding mate bond
between Kel and himself, and what if meant for the future of his family. All of
it he owed to Owen, with nothing of value to give in return. Should Owen ask
for something, Zach would do his best to find it. And yet, Owen didn’t seem
like the type to need anything he couldn’t provide for himself.
Bree stopped abruptly and snorted loud enough to tell him something was up.
They were close, enough to Owen’s camp that Zach assumed she was smelling Blue
or the other raptors. Bree was shifting from leg to leg out of instinct to
fight or flee, but she trusted Zach enough to wait as he called out.
“Owen?” He yelled, and his voice rang through the silence of the forest. He
would have feared for predators, but Owen’s presence had always guaranteed his
safety by smell alone. They hadn’t spotted a large predator for days, as was
typical for the Rut when bulls were far more likely to fight than any other
time of the year. Predators that couldn’t fall back on familial support
couldn’t risk an injury. Then again, Zach couldn’t risk it.
“Owen,” said Zach, and Bree twitched beneath him. Frowning, Zach urged her
forward. There was no doubt Owen was nearby, not when Bree had led him here and
the forest was too quiet to be normal. There was a chance, however, that Owen
hadn’t heard him… Or Owen was ignoring him. Maybe he was asleep? Yet Owen often
slept at odd times so maybe he had things to do at night as well? Zach didn’t
know what Owen did when Zach wasn’t around aside from sleep and presumably
scout with his raptors.
As Bree walked on, Zach heard a whistle from somewhere above his head and not
too far off. He paused, searched the canopy, and then made eye contact with the
man he was looking for. They stared at each other for a few seconds and then
Owen looked away. He looked impassive towards Zach’s appearance, which wouldn’t
have been alarming if not for how starkly different that was compared to how he
used to greet Zach in the past. Zach didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but
the frown on Owen’s face couldn’t mean anything good.
“Owen,” he called out again; Owen didn’t spare him a glance as he climbed down
from the perch, even when Zach yelled again and slid off Bree’s back. “Owen,”
said Zach, trying to catch up to his long strides, “stop. Wait, I need to talk
to you!”
Owen swung around when Zach tried to grab his arm and slow him down. “What?” He
said, no outright anger in his voice, and yet Zach could tell something was
off.
“I wanted to talk to you,” said Zach.
“So talk,” said Owen, turning away and continuing to walk. Bree followed behind
them with heavy feet.
“You haven’t been around in a few days,” said Zach, not sure where else to
start. Owen didn’t answer him, so he scrambled to continue. “I’m sorry I
haven’t come to see you. I’ve been too busy…” Still nothing. “I wanted to thank
you, actually, if not for you I wouldn’t have found a gift in time; I owe you,”
said Zach, uncertain of his footing with Owen now.
“You owe me nothing,” said Owen abruptly enough to make Zach startle. His tone
was too terse for Zach to maintain the belief that everything was normal
between them. He frowned and watched Owen’s back.
“What do you mean?” He asked, dreading the conversation to come.
“You don’t owe me anything,” said Owen, “and I don’t want anything to do with
you.”
Zach froze but Owen kept walking until Zach’s composure cracked as he said,
“What are you talking about?”
Owen turned to face him and even stepped into his space. “I don’t want anything
to do with you ever again. I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to talk to
you, and I definitely don’t want you to come looking for me again,” he said,
his face leaning toward Zach’s. Zach closed his eyes when the proximity became
too much, and yet he could feel Owen by his breath and the heat radiating off
him. Owen refused to budge, and Zach felt stepping back might send the wrong
message.
“Why are you doing this?” said Zach, afraid to open his eyes. “I thought…”
“You thought? What? We were ‘friends?’” said Owen, his tone harsh.
When Zach glared, Owen’s anger only amplified. “I DID think we were friends,”
said Zach, “what else would we be?”
“We were nothing,” said Owen, but Zach could see the lie in how his gaze
wavered.
He stepped closer, with no mind for the potential risks. “Owen,” he said, well
aware Owen was angry and unpredictable but daring anyway. “You said you wanted
me to be happy… does that count for nothing now?”
Owen’s anger melted away like dew in the morning. He let Zach lean close,
encouraged it, and even leaned close in turn. They stood against each other for
a few minutes.
“I upset you,” said Zach.
“No,” said Owen, “there was no reason for me to… fight you.”
Zach listened to Owen’s heartbeat as the past few days came together and
connect.
“Did you come looking for me?” Owen nodded. “And you found me…” Another nod.
“Then you saw…”
“Yes,” said Owen, and Zach could feel his shoulders tremble.
“I hurt you,” said Zach, “not on the outside, the inside.” Owen said nothing,
but he did not disagree with him. He didn’t fully understand why Owen had
reacted so strongly but he figured the time for nit-picking had passed. “I’ll
still come see you,” he said, because it was the only thing he could think of.
“I know,” said Owen.
“I’m not leaving you,” said Zach.
Owen huffed. “You are not mine,” he said.
“Your what?”
“Mate,” said Owen, pulling back and looking down to meet his eyes. It took Zach
a moment to do anything but stare. After that moment, it felt natural to lean
up and kiss Owen as Kel often kissed him. He was terrified at his own lack of
skill and the chance that Owen wouldn’t understand and push him away. Or maybe
just not enjoy it as Zach had hoped. The beginning was slow and tentative as if
Owen was giving him time to reconsider, and pull away. But Zach didn’t, and
they surged together, each wave of coming together more powerful than the last.
Like a crescendo of something beautiful and sacred and unadultured, they grew
closer and more frantic, breathless and overwhelmed by the taste and the
closeness of the other. Zach would question the strength of his own reaction if
not for the way Owen seemed similarly affected when they parted for air.
“That,” said Zach, though he had no others words. Owen seemed to understand
completely, a grin brighter than the stars growing on his face. He cupped
Zach’s face, refusing to let go of that physical contact, and Zach leaned into
it happily.
“Stay with me tonight,” said Owen, peering into Zach’s eyes and fiddling with
Zach’s fingers with his free hand.
“The Rut…” said Zach, trailing off as Owen’s petting grew too distracting for
proper thought. Owen quieted him with a thumb over his lips.
“Just for tonight, stay with me,” said Owen, and Zach felt a stirring in his
stomach from the thought.
“Are we…” But he let the sentence trail away. “Yes,” he said instead.
Owen grinned and kissed him soundly, and then led him away by the hand.
--
Zach woke up with an itch underneath his skin. The forest was filled with
sounds of the Rut and the familiarity pooled heat in his belly. He shifted in
his spot pressed against Owen and moans from the closeness, for Owen’s arm was
wrapped around his waist and it felt claiming in a way Zach had never
experienced. He squirmed to test the strength of Owen’s grip and felt a strange
sense of satisfaction when the muscles behind him tensed to keep him still. He
worried, just for a moment, that he had woken Owen up. Before he could decide
what to do and whether or not he wanted that to happen, Owen shifted behind him
and yawned.
“Loud,” he said, and Zach was lost in the way the deep timbre of it rumbled
through his bones from his shoulders to his fingertips. He clung onto Owen’s
hand as if his life depended on it, panting.
“The Rut,” said Zach, its presence weighing down on him and forcing him to
shudder.
“It affects you,” said Owen.
“Yes,” said Zach, fighting the urge to thrust forward against empty air.
“Do you need it?” asked Owen, voice giving nothing away even if Zach had been
in the right mind to look for clues.
“Yesss,” said Zach, surrendering the pretense of control in favour of grinding
his hips in small circles as he searched for friction.
Thankfully, Owen didn’t expect him to speak further. He shifted his hand down
to give Zach something to thrust against. Zach was caught between Owen’s hips
and his hand and for a while it was enjoyable, but soon it wasn’t enough.  He
pulled his loincloth aside to remove the barrier and didn’t spare a second
though on what he was doing and who with. Owen groaned and wrapped his fingers
around Zach’s length, providing a loose fist for Zach to thrust into. It was
like nothing Zach had experienced before, it couldn’t compare to using his own
hand. He could find completion just like that and it would happen soon than
Zach was ready. It couldn’t end so soon! Zach whined deep in his throat and
Owen’s mouth found his ear.
“Shh,” he said, breath hot and wet and overwhelming, “what do you need?”
“I-” said Zach, his back bowing and his thighs trembling. “I need-” he said,
“m-more-… not enough.” Owen’s grip changed and Zach hissed, his space
stuttering. “Please,” he whined.
 “Do you trust me?” said Owen, his teeth catching on the lobe of Zach’s ear.
“Just- yes! Please Owen, I need-!” he whimpered, losing the end of the sentence
in a rush of breath as Owen turned him over onto his stomach. His face pressed
into the dirt and his limbs splayed to catch himself, and his arousal flared
alongside his fear. “What?” he asked, but Owen said nothing in favour of fixing
his position and laying over him, weighing him down with his own bulk and
boxing him in with thick arms.
He felt thighs heavy and heated behind his own, pressing him down into the
ground. His breath seized in his chest. Zach had never felt so vulnerable in
his life; nothing compared to Owen’s breath catching in his hair and curling
over his neck and around his ear. He exhaled, and a fine layer of dust stirred
beside him. His mouth felt too dry, and too wet all at once. His heart pounded,
muscles tensing against the solid weight above and around him.
“Still,” said Owen, when he grew tired of Zach’s desperate wriggling underneath
him. “Mine,” he said, biting down on the back of Zach’s neck.  It seemed that
Owen wasn’t completely unaffected as Zach first assumed. His arousal pressed
hard against Zach and that thrilled him, but it also scared him.
Zach moaned in approval and in question when Owen manhandled his hips up and
snug against his own. He had no idea how this would continue but he wanted it.
His body gave a resounding pulse of agreement when Owen palmed his ass and
ground against him. Zach was not a woman, and he didn’t know the receptive side
of sex, and yet Owen was stroking areas Zach commonly associated with women. He
shifted, his knees protesting beneath the waves of his anticipation.
“Still,” repeated Owen, clutching him tightly as if he feared Zach might run.
He forced Zach’s thighs firmly together, a hand on his thigh, and then abruptly
thrust between them.
Zach screamed, overwhelmed by the force grazing along his sex. He soon found
his mouth full with Owen’s fingers as Owen continued to move, but it was too
dry between Zach’s thighs with only precum to ease the way, and Owen sacrificed
the muffling of Zach’s sound to use the boy’s spit. Unhindered, Zach moaned at
the feeling of Owen’s fingers spreading slick on his inner thighs and squeezing
his length for good measure. He met Owen’s thrusts after that, keening loudly
with every movement. And when he said Owen’s name, Owen growled low in his
throat and bit at any skin he could reach without losing his rhythm. The back
of Zach’s neck, shoulders, and particularly the soft spot just below his ear on
the hinge of his jaw burned with each new mark.
Zach’s fingers raked cuts into the ground as he stretched and twitched and
bowed, fighting against the holds on his shoulder and hit just to make Owen
bark at his defiance and grip him tighter. He could feel the skin split under
Owen’s fingers and relished in it, mind lost beneath the heavy pace of Owen’s
hips smacking against his ass, his loincloth somewhere in the dirt. He needed
this and he never knew it before now; he could hardly think of ever spending a
day without it. Owen needed it too and Zach would never have the heart to deny
him, it felt to give to ever say no.
“Owen,” he said, appreciating the long sounds of the man’s name as he moaned
them deep in his throat. Owen’s hands shifted, the hand on his hip wrapping
around his stomach as Owen leaned over him, pressing him towards the ground but
also protecting him, keeping him firmly where it was safe and warm and Owen
would never have to stop touching his bare skin. Zach liked that, hand slipping
down to hold onto Owen’s. Owen rained kisses down on Zach’s neck, shoulders,
some held teeth, and some didn’t. He ghosted over sensitive skin, open mouthed
and panting from his exertion, and ended up whispering sweet, lingering words
in Zach’s ear. They sounded like promises, but Zach didn’t understand his
words, didn’t have the presence of mind to ask. Nothing was as important as
Owen’s hand placed over his chest where his heart beat like a drum in time to
Owen’s own against Zach’s back.
Zach came with a weak shout a second later, seed wasted in the dirt beneath
them. Owen held him through his shaking, his thrusts steady. Just as it became
painful each time the tip of Owen’s manhood poked through the soft flesh of his
inner thighs, Owen’s entire body clenched tight and he moaned against Zach’s
shoulder. He made a mess of Zach’s legs and his own, but they were both
boneless and carefree, Owen’s arms shaking as he tried not to crush Zach
beneath him. They rolled and Zach could feel the dirt sticking the sweat on his
skin as he laid down by Owen’s side.
They dozed, casually touching each other with exploratory fingers now that the
immediate need had passed. Owen couldn’t keep his hands off the new bite marks
on Zach’s neck but kept attempting to count the freckles on Zach’s shoulders
whenever Zach closed his eyes. Zach, in between bouts of drowsiness, traced the
long-healed scars on Owen’s arms and legs, and even playfully bit one of Owen’s
nipples to test the reaction. Owen caught his wrists and refused to let go as
punishment, until Zach kissed him stupid and breathless and they found
completion a second time on each other’s thighs.
“Come,” said Owen, rolling to his feet and holding a hand out for Zach to take.
He led them to the cool pool Zach had once spotted him washing tools in and,
fearless, walked straight into the water. Zach trusted him and followed him
into the depths until the water lapped at his shoulders. They washed each
other, wondering touches eliciting weak reactions despite their recent orgasms.
Zach laughed when Owen kissed his neck seemingly a thousand times, attempting
to ignore him in favour of scrubbing soaproot into their hair.
When the sun was directly above them, kissing their skin and heating away the
last of the water caught on their skin, Zach knew he had to go back. Owen
sensed the change in his mind and stuck close, refusing to let go of him. They
walked close, fingers clasped tightly together. Zach rubbed at the bright marks
with his spare hand with no idea how to explain them away. Perhaps everyone
would be too busy with the Rut to notice. He hoped so.
“I must go,” said Zach, eyes downcast. He could hear Owen heave a great sigh,
and then the man drew him into his arms and held him close.
“Come back to me,” said Owen, and Zach nodded eagerly. “Tonight?”
“I’ll try,” he said, not sure he was sneaky enough. “I’m sorry,” he said,
knowing that Owen deserved so much better. Owen shook his head, released him,
and disappeared into the cover of the jungle. Zach wished he could have watched
him go if only to delay his return to the tribal boundaries, but he turned on
his heel and marched himself back to his family.
Kel found him immediately. She was in no mind to ask him where he had been,
only tugged off his clothes and kissed his apathetic mouth. He mounted her, his
body reacting to the physical prompting, but couldn’t come until he thought of
Owen’s mouth on his neck, his hands on Zach’s hips. He felt dirty afterward,
blinking away tears, and scratched at his neck where Owen’s marks pulsed with
guilt. Was he strong enough to juggle his desire for Owen’s company with his
duty to his new mate, his tribe? Which side of him would win, and which side
would crack under the pressure first?
Chapter End Notes
     I definitely did not plan on the chapter title being a penis joke.
     Not at all.
***** Bonds *****
Chapter by DraxInTheSack_(Caddaren)
Chapter Summary
     Bonds are broken and remade.
Each night was spent with Owen, far away from the herd and away from prying
eyes. He snuck off, leaving Bree behind for simplicities sake, and found Owen
in his camp. They held each other close and breathed deep, as if their
separation was more than just a day. Owen washed Zach like he was something
rare and prized, his hands finding all the places he had left his own marks and
pressing to make Zach feel them again. He used soaproot to scrub away all
evidence of anyone but himself from Zach’s skin but refused Zach the
opportunity to do the same. And when he deemed Zach clean, he pulled the boy
from the water’s reach and lay him down in the grass and light sparks behind
his eyes. Overwhelmed and oversensitive, Zach would lay limp and whine when
Owen attempt to move him after they had finished.
At any other time of year, Zach never would have let this happen. Each time he
left Kel’s side under the cover of night, he was effectively abandoning his
family. And each morning when he and Owen bathed in the pool and he ventured
back, he ignored the aching in his chest that grew and grew. Kel never noticed
his absence, or if she did she simply didn’t have the mind to see the pattern
of his behaviour. The Rut kept him safe, but it also kept him going back for
more. When he mounted Kel, somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it was a
betrayal to her and Owen both. But the Rut kept his mind foggy for the most
part, rendered useless by the hormones and the pleasure to be found in Owen’s
embraced and echoed strongly enough throughout the day for him to find release
with Kel as well. She never noticed the marks on his shoulders and his thighs,
and he would let her believe what she chose to believe when the lust and the
instinct faded.
The sixth day marked the end of the first Rut. The Rut would continue for
several months, lasting well into their journey to the nesting grounds, but the
pull of it wasn’t so strong and activities in the herd would resume like
normal. Females who was not impregnated in the first Rut would return to
fertility and males would grow aggressive with each other once again, but this
did not affect the tribe. Some mated pairs might continue to mount each other,
but it was fairly uncommon and frowned upon for the most part. There were more
important things to be doing and often the bond between pairs was strong enough
to produce a child. Zach’s mother had explained the importance of bond pairs
when he was little, but Zach had never quite understood it until he woke up on
the sixth day and found Kel curled up against his side. Her presence made him
feel slightly queasy, so he let her rest as he woke, dressed, and resumed life
as normal.
Many of the others, including Gray, were already taking stock of the damages
done to the herd. They had lost one old bull to a spar against a bull in his
prime, so they stripped the carcass of skin, the spines running over his crest
and down his spine, and cut slabs of meat to be roasted over the spit before
they began the migration in full force. The ceremony of gratitude included
slow, heavy drums, and the burning of dung, and then they left the carcass to
be picked apart after they left.  The smell might attract predators before they
had the time to leave it behind, but predators often ignored the herd when
there was food to be easily scavenged. Zach kept an eye out for Blue and the
other raptors, hoping Owen was in the area so he could slink off and tell him
the tribe’s plans.
“Zach!” said Gray, once the immediate demand for helping hands had passed and
they had time to talk. The boy touched his shoulder affectionately as their
mother often did, and Zach returned the gesture.
“I see you made it through the Rut without me,” said Zach, smiling, “I told you
it would go fine.” He had heard no news of any accidents or illness falling
upon any tribes members, so he counted it as a good year.
“It was scary, at first,” said Gray, foraging beside him and snacking on a few
of the nuts they found on the ground. “I think I was the oldest one this year.”
“You’ll be the oldest next year too,” said Zach, and took the shove he was
expecting. He laughed, “but after that, you’ll have a bond of your own.”
“Yeah,” said Gray, but he didn’t sound too excited.
“Why wouldn’t you?” asked Zach. “You might have to wait a year, I suppose, if
there’s no one your age to match you with. But you might meet someone later
on,” said Zach, speaking of the other tribes that followed their herds to the
same nesting grounds.
“It doesn’t seem all that fun,” said Gray, and Zach felt a split second of
panic zap through him before he remembered Gray was just too young to
understand how attraction felt.
He paused in his gathering, dusted his hands off, and then turned Gray to face
him with a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t believe it now, but one day you’ll
meet someone who you never want to let go of. A bond is just the most natural
thing to do.”
“Is that what happened with you and Kel?” asked Gray, and Zach froze. Gray saw
it with those sharp grey eyes of his and Zach had a sinking feeling he was led
right into a trap. “I noticed you leaving a lot,” said Gray, eyes not leaving
Zach’s face.
“Gray, I-”
“I knew there was something going on. I didn’t understand what could possibly
be in the forest to persuade you to leave Kel during the Rut, but then I
remembered.”
“Gray-”
“So I followed you,” said Gray, and Zach’s fingers grew cold on his shoulder.
He let his hand fall, and still Gray only stared at him. “At first I thought he
was forcing you, using the Rut to manipulate you, but now I know you’re
perfectly willing. You want to bond with Owen, don’t you?”
Zach slapped a hand over Gray’s mouth, his heart pounding. For the first time
in his life, someone held something over him and he had no idea how to handle
the panic that seized in his throat. “Gray,” he said, his voice quiet and
cracked, “I don’t know what you saw, but it’s not what you think.”
Gray pushed his hand away gently and then took hold of it, but thankfully
followed his cue to be quieter. “You don’t have to lie to me, Zach, I’m your
brother,” he said, “I’m not trying to hurt you with this. I… didn’t mean to
intrude. I was just making sure you were safe.”
Zach couldn’t meet his eyes any longer. “I know that, Gray, but this isn’t
something that you can go around sharing with the others. If they knew… it
would hurt a lot of people, myself and Owen included.”
Gray nodded in understanding and went back to picking at fruit, and Zach
thought perhaps that was the end of the discussion. After a few minutes,
however, Gray asked, “so how does a man mount another man?”
Zach flushed up to his ears and his throat suddenly felt dry. “It… it’s
different than it would be between a man and a woman, but not altogether
dissimilar.”
Gray frowned, and Zach nearly tripped over himself to find something else to
talk about before he could ask another embarrassing question. “So uh, have you
seen Mom and Dad yet today?” he asked, eyes glued to his task.
“Mom found me right after the Rut passed. She spoke of her plans for our cows
and in a few days she’s going to show me how to tell which ones are heavy with
young.”
“No word from Dad?”
“I think he’s supposed to be negotiating with the Elders, but he wouldn’t tell
me about what before the Rut started and he hadn’t woken up this morning by the
time I left to find you,” said Gray.
“Huh,” said Zach, eying their yield from a few hours work. “Come, let’s see if
they need our help packing and saddling the mounts.”
Murmurs rose as they neared the center of the camp. A crowd gathered where
their parents slept. Their voices were lost beneath the din of questions and
concerns and Zach felt like a kid again despite his age. They had to fight
their way through when no one would tell them what was going on. When they
broke through the line, they saw their father huddled on the ground underneath
his night skins and their mother kneeling next to him, looking worried. “Mom?”
Gray called, and ran to her side. Their father made an effort to greet him, but
Zach watched him cringe in pain and crumpled back in on himself.
“What’s wrong with him?” Zach asked when he was close enough. There was an
Elder crouched near his head, hands ghosting their father’s sweaty temples.
“We don’t know,” his mother said, “he can barely move.”
“The pain originates from his abdomen and pulses upward,” said the Elder, “his
soul is suffering the punishment of the body. We must pray, collect a
sacrifice,” she said, the beads around her wrists jangling as she stood. Their
mother moved to follow, but the Elder put a hand on her shoulder, “no, Ka-ren,
we will do this for you. Stay with your bond mate and pray for his health,” she
said, and their mother did so.
The Elder turned to Gray. “You will help in the ceremony. Your blood holds
great power, we will use it to plead with the Gods for their mercy,” she said,
grasping one of his hands in both of her own and staring down into her eyes.
Her pupils were grey and misty, her sight lost to her, and yet she moved
without hesitance, touched without doubt. The crowd bowed to her wisdom and did
as she bid. “Tonight, we fast and burn our food as an offering. Go, ready your
children for a night of hunger.”
And so Zach went, along with the others, because he held a duty to Kel and her
family now just as much as he did for Gray and his parents. Kel held his hands
in hers and said, “We will persuade the Gods to give your father’s soul back to
us,” but that made him feel no better. The Gods were not cruel to them, only
just in the same way the world was just. Sometimes they took souls from the
tribe, either as tribute or as necessity, sometimes they afforded the tribe a
great plenty in the herd and in their children. Zach forewent his chores of
foraging and preparing to kneel in front of the shrine, erected with care in
each new campsite, until his knees bled raw from the dirt beneath him and his
legs went numb. No one disturbed him, though some pressed comforting touches to
his shoulders as they passed by and some kneeled next to him in honour of the
Gods and their whimsical nature. Zach stared at his hands and refused to look
away, his stomach and his mind equally empty and in pain.  
“Za-cuh,” said the Elder, kneeling next to him tenderly due to her long life.
“Your dedication to the shrine is honourable. The Gods surely understand your
devotion unto them.”
“I feel as if… once I step away, they will forget my pleas,” he said, and she
touched his arm as if to soothe him as he spoke.
“They will remember, your voice is loud and your soul is strong. Your love will
not ignored,” she said, and this comforted him. “Come, we must gather the tribe
and fast together. There are songs to be sung and power to be painted into your
family’s veins.” She stood, and he stood with her.
He left her to join his mother and a few other tribe members in carrying his
father to the center of the ceremonial circle, as close to the fire as they
could put him without risking burns. Berries were mashed and spread over his
skin in patterns he had learned as a child. One for strength on the center of
his chest, one for life on his throat, one for protection on his back, two twin
ones for the rise and fall of the sun on the backs of his hands, and one for
love that made the skin of his belly itch. Gray received the same symbols and
wore them proudly, bones woven into his hair and his fingers dipped in chalk.
Each member of the tribe was dusted with chalk by his fingers and a cloud of
dust rose above them, intertwining with the smoke from the fire.
They chanted for what felt like hours, they chanted until Zach’s voice was
practically raw. Their voices were filled with desperation, his and his
mother’s especially, and sorrow, as if some of them had already accepted the
passing of his father’s soul unto the next world. Zach wanted to scream at them
and hold his father close, but he remained where he was, arms around his mother
to his left and Kel on his right, their arms around the people next to them,
and so on and so forth. The entire tribe was connected and the thrum of their
energy filled him, but it also weighed him down. Zach wanted nothing more than
to let go of them all and escape into the woods, but he had already escaped
plenty enough and he knew, suddenly, that running away from this would end in
the ruin of every bond he had within the tribe. His mother would never forgive
his absence, Kel would question his loyalty and his reliability, and Gray, even
knowing who Zach ran to and why, would refuse to speak to him ever again. No,
Zach could no longer use Owen as an escape from his duties and his sorrows. His
father would expect better of him, and thus he would do better.
Their chants ended in a low, slow wail of passion and anguish, and his mother
tipped her head back and let her tears run freely. There was no need to conceal
their emotions, not here, and there were others crying in the circle as well.
Gray had fat, salty drops running down his cheeks as he stepped forward and cut
the palms of his hands, letting the blood of their father and mother drip down
first onto their father’s abdomen, where a war of the mortal will to live and
the divine call of destiny waged, and then on his forehead, where the soul
cried and squirmed as a result of the turmoil. As Gray grew paler and paler,
the Elders intervened by taking the burned ends of sticks hot from the fire to
the wounds to close them. And when Gray screamed, their mother screamed with
him. Gray fainted from the pain and strain on his soul, and the song ended.
They had done their sacrifice, now only time would tell. The call of the Gods
was strong, but their father was healthy and he still had purpose in his life.
Their mother would stay up all night, but his side, keeping him comfortable and
trickling water down his throat, and Zach put Gray to bed before retreating to
Kel’s side. But he could not sleep, and he did not sleep the next night either.
On the third night, his father passed. Zach collapsed to his knees beside their
mother, sobbing with her. They unwrapped the skins from his body and painted
sacred lines into his cold skin without a torch to light the path of their
fingertips. The Elders hovered, but this was a task only the beloved of the
dead should do, and the ritual could not be interrupted even when his mother’s
hands shook too much for her lines to be smooth and even, and Gray refused to
do anything but lay his head against their father’s arm and cry. They laid the
body down on a bed of herbs and skins, lining the grave with the tools his
father had used in life so he could continue to make use of them during his
time with the Gods. Then, as the sun rose and the dew on the grass lifted away,
each member of the tribe plucked a flower from the trees and placed it on top
of the body. Some families left gifts to honour bonds his father had kept
strong throughout his life, others had nothing they could spare.
Finally, they left the body behind. The herd was already nervous at the smell
of death, and Zach knew there would be predators circling closer and closer as
more time passed. It would be best for them to leave this valley quickly, but
it broke his heart to drag Gray away from their father’s resting form. With one
arm around his mother, one hand on Bree’s muzzle, they walked, and Zach refused
to look back. Gray lost all of his usual energy, and the tribe sang no songs as
they marched with the herd. It was a slow, sunny day, and Zach hated every
minute of it. That night, families gifted them food and a large portion went to
sacrifice to ensure their father’s safe passage into the other realm. Zach
didn’t eat but he made his mother do so, and watched Gray drink water like it
was his only purpose in life.
Zach stayed awake that night staring at the stars. As a tried he had tried to
count them all but they seemed never ending. Some Elders said that each one was
a tribe member living with the Gods, other said each one twinkled with the
light of unused life, and that a star went out each time a baby was born as the
light transformed. Zach didn’t know what he thought, but when he prayed the
Gods always seemed to answer through the stars. Zach found solace in their
light, however silent they were.
That night, as Zach lay there in a trance, Owen came to him. He snuck through
the camp and made his way to Zach’s side, which said a lot about how often Owen
observed Zach when Zach had no idea he was there. At any other time, Owen’s
appearance would have filled Zach with great joy, but now he felt only dread.
“You need to leave,” he whispered, even as he allowed Owen to tug him away from
Kel and her family and the camp itself. They stood at the base of a tree and
spoke in hushed tones, but still Zach worried they would be caught.
“You moved,” said Owen.
Zach pushed his hands away from where they were clutching his shoulders. “The
herd is moving on,” he said.
“You didn’t tell me,” said Owen, sounding hurt.
Zach’s heart ached at the deep sound of his voice but it was wrung dry of
empathy after the past few days. “There wasn’t any time,” he said, trying to
find a good way of saying goodbye without causing a ruckus. “Owen… the Rut is
over,” he said. “We… are over.”
Owen frowned, reaching for him again. Zach brushed his hand away as gently as
he could, and Owen’s face fell. Zach refused to look away, however guilty he
felt. “I’m sorry, this was a mistake,” said Zach, “I don’t… something came over
me. I don’t know how to explain it, but my place is not here, with you.”
“You’re… leaving,” said Owen, his arms motionless by his sides. “Za-cuh,” he
said, then paused, “something changed,” he continued, “You didn’t want it to.
You don’twant it to. Why are you doing this?”
“I’m sorry, Owen,” said Zach, “I need to go.”
“Za-cuh, wait,” said Owen, reaching for him as Zach backed away. Zach let
himself be caught, and suddenly it only made sense to let Owen pull him close
and envelop him in sturdy arms and hold him close, to take all the pain of the
last few days away. He pressed his face into the hollow of Owen’s neck and
cried as if he hadn’t already exhausted his tears as if he had any energy left
to hold himself up on two legs and this didn’t feel like the end of his life as
he knew it. Owen said nothing to prompt and prod an answer out of him, simply
resting his chin on Zach’s head and sighing into his hair, large arms wrapped
around Zach’s shoulders and refusing to let go. They stood like that for what
felt like years, until Zach’s throat was almost too dry for him to speak.
“I’m sorry, Owen,” said Zach, pulling away. “I have responsibilities. And… and
no matter what I want, I mustn’t do this,” he said, wanting nothing more than
to reach out and hold Owen’s waiting hands, “I’m sorry,” he said, tears in his
eyes, “I’m so sorry.”
The coward he was, Zach turned and ran.
--
Zach must have given into his exhaustion sometime just before dawn. He awoke to
chaos. Shouts filled the camp and Zach’s head pounded, the stress of the last
few days accumulating in his temples. For a split second, he forgot all that
had happened. Then it returned to him and he wanted to roll over into the dirt
and cover his ears to block everything out. If only it could be so easy to
avoid the life waiting for him.
Instead, he rolled to his feet and stretched as he made his way to the
commotion. Upon hearing his mother’s voice, Zach’s heart stuttered with panic,
filled with an irrational fear that something was wrong with Gray, they the
Gods had returned to take more of his family from him. Zach ran the rest of the
way, ignoring Kel when he passed her and she yelled for him. Kel was the last
person on his mind, despite their new bonding. He didn’t slow until his hand
was on his mother’s shoulder, interrupting her from her argument against
another tribe member, the Elder’s hovering nervously behind her.
“What’s going on?” he said, eying the man with suspicion. Zach didn’t know his
name, but the familiarity that came from living in the same tribe was not lost.
This was not a newcomer raising trouble, but a member older than himself that
demanded his respect and patience. His mother was visibly upset, however, so
Zach was immediately on edge.
“Your mother,” the man spat, “wants to celebrate your brother’s birthday again
this year. That means the rest of us have to give him gifts or else dishonor
the Gods. That’s unfair, your family is getting special treatment and the other
families have to pay for it.”
Zach looked between the man and the Elders, considering his words. “Do the
other families protest to the celebration?” he asked.
“We do not know,” they said, collectively.
“I come here bringing the voice of the ignored and the overlooked,” the man
said, determined in his stance. “They are too scared to speak up for themselves
and risk the wrath of the ‘fertility child’, but I am not from this tribe, and
I do not fear your family’s line.”
Zach frowned, looking to his mother for confirmation. She was not the one with
the strongest will, nor the one with the firmest voice. He doubted their
collective strength if he stepped into place beside her as the defendant of
their family, with his father no longer there to complement her. They were
interrupted before he could attempt it, however, and Zach breathed a sigh of
relief at the sound of his aunt’s voice. “What’s the problem here?”
His aunt Claire was by far the most powerful woman he had ever met, even
stronger willed than his grandmother had been in the short time he had known
her. There was a time when he was close to all his aunts, but the strain of
infertility had separated his parents from his mother’s sisters. It had taken
many years for them to stop blaming themselves for the Gods abandoning them,
but when Gray began in his mother’s stomach they returned into the family
circle in a faint imitation of what the bonds once were. Zach often wondered
what Gray’s life would have been like if their mother’s family had still been
so close to them.
The man repeated what he had said to Zach’s aunt, but she was having none of
it. “If the other families object to our celebration of fertility and Gray’s
role in the rituals, they can step forward themselves and we will discuss it,”
she said, and they all looked out over the tribal families crowding close, to
the leading matriarchs and the throngs of children each woman had produced with
their bond mates over their lifetimes and the children of those children who
had not left to find new homes. A few refused to meet Claire’s eyes, but
otherwise each remained stoic. “If no one will stand with you,” said Claire,
“then there is nothing to discuss. We have heard your voice, Vic, but yours
alone. I’m sorry you don’t agree with our ways, but I hope your bond mate can
placate you so your days in her family will be more enjoyable.”
Vic huffed and walked away and yet his beady eyes gave Zach a sickened feeling
deep in his stomach. His aunt seemed to share the same sentiments if the look
on her face was anything to go by. “Thank you, sister,” said his mother, and
the two sister’s embraced for a few long minutes.
“A threat to your son is a threat to mine,” said Claire, reaching out to touch
Zach’s shoulder.
Zach paused, and asked, “where isGray?”
His mother rubbed her eyes and said, “I sent him with the other children so he
wouldn’t have to hear any of this.”
“That was the same man who argued with us a few weeks ago,” said Claire, her
hand in between Zach’s shoulder blades protectively. “We must watch out for
him,” she said.
“I doubt he’ll do anything violent,” his mother said, “the other families
wouldn’t tolerate something so drastic as a solution.”
“Still,” said Claire, and his mother nodded. Ever critical, she said, “You look
like you haven’t slept a wink. Karen, climb on your mount and try to rest, Zach
and I will mind the herd.” Zach nodded, seeing the bags under his mother’s
eyes, and his mother hugged them both before following her instructions. “Now,”
said Claire, “tell me how you’ve been. Did you enjoy your bond ceremony, the
Rut?” she asked, taking his mother’s place in minding their cows as he took up
his father’s. It was mostly about keeping a sharp eye out for anything
abnormal, so they were free to talk without worrying of distraction.
“It was… intense,” he said, careful with his words. “I enjoyed it,” he said, a
half-lie. He couldn’t say that he looked forward to it next year because he had
no idea if he would grow to love and lust after Kel in the short span of a
year.
“I remember my first Rut, with my first bond mate,” said Claire, smiling
softly. “It was intense, as you said. There was a lot of energy, I remember
that clearly.” She wasn’t looking at him, instead staring off into the
distance.
“You lost him, didn’t you?” said Zach, because enough time had passed for the
loss to be less raw and his aunt Claire was rarely upset by anything anyways.
“Yes, we were separated,” she said, “I assume he’s dead now… we were very
young, it was before your time.”
“I wish I could have met him,” he said. “It sounds nice, honest.”
“Oh, don’t believe a word I say, dear, he was wild and reckless and too good at
talking his way out of things,” she said, laughing dryly. “You would have hated
him, he was far too wily for someone as straightforward as you.”
“Still,” said Zach, eyes on the cows they expected to be heavy with young after
the Rut. “…how did you cope with the loss?” he asked, after a few minutes had
passed.
She looked at him then, a sad smile on her face. “I didn’t, not for a few
weeks. But then I realized my family was suffering from carrying my deadweight,
and I picked myself up and took control of my life. I raised the child he had
given me the best I could, I considered new bond mates for many years, and I
accepted my role in the tribe. I stepped into my mother’s place, when she died,
and led alongside my father until he died as well. You live, you have to,” she
said.
Zach went silent, wondering if he had the same strength in his blood. Could he
push himself to live again, despite all that had happened? Would he grow to be
happy with his choices and their consequences, or would they wreck him? He had
no way of knowing, and that scared him.
“The pain of the loss fades,” she added, after they had been silent for a
while, and Zach didn’t know if that was what he wanted to hear.
“I don’t want it to,” he said, a scowl on his face.
“Yes you do,” she said, sure in her words. “You must learn to keep the love you
felt, but accept the loss of their place in your life. Fill that place with
others, or fill it yourself. Your family needs you just as you need them,” she
said, edging closer to place a gentle hand on Zach’s shoulder. No doubt she
thought he was thinking only of his father’s death, but his heart also ached
for Owen, and he hated himself for that. Once the pain faded, all he would have
is sadness, and Zach couldn’t accept that, so he could rather suffer for the
rest of this life.
“Claire,” someone said, and Claire’s attention snapped from Zach to Zara, a
woman with remarkably pale skin and startling blue eyes. Zara and Claire
touched shoulders, hands lingering on each other’s skin under Zach’s wary gaze.
There was something different about them, or perhaps it had always been this
way and Zach had never taken the time to notice. ‘New bond mates’ his aunt had
said, but two women together made no sense… just about as much sense as he and
Owen did. Zach gaped when the idea clicked in his mind.
“I’m sorry, I need to go,” he said, abandoning his position without regard as
to who would fill it with his mother resting and his father gone. He ran
towards the edge of the forest, then froze. This area was foreign to him, he
had no idea where Owen would be. He had no reason to go running to Owen,
either, not after what he had said to the man and what he had convinced himself
was best. He had never regretted his words more, aware that even if he returned
to Owen’s embrace the man might not accept his apology. He was stuck now in a
place he felt suffocated, and he had turned his back on his only comfort and
relief.
Staring into the canopy, he said, “I’m sorry,” and stood there for a few
minutes before turning back to the camp.
***** Breath *****
Chapter by DraxInTheSack_(Caddaren)
Chapter Summary
     Hope and despair in equal measure.
The celebrations began even as the air felt heavy. Most fell back onto the
familiar with full zeal but Zach was left an outsider from the party mentality.
He had no interesting in a festival of good fortune and future generations and
bonds of love, all with his younger brother at the center no less, when his own
heart ached with each beat for the loss of his father and for the loss of Owen.
He became listless in his grief, refusing to speak unless insistently prompted
and eating very little. His eyes glassed over during his routine tasks and his
fingers moved on instinct to complete his tasks. Bree became his constant
companion, hovering over him and laying with him at night despite Kel’s initial
protests. He didn’t have the words to explain to her that he no longer knew why
he woke up in the morning, completely healthy and whole, when he had no more
reason to live than his father. This was the first loss of life he had ever
experienced besides those old and ready to go to the eternal rest.
This was also his first heartbreak, but no one knew that. Gray sometimes gave
him looks when he believed Zach couldn’t see, and often his mother would come
and work next to him as a form of silent consolidation. It worked well, as he
tolerated her presence more than he would someone who insisted on talking his
ear off. Claire also joined him on occasion, but he caught sight of her tending
to Zara and her own children more often than not, as was her role to fill. Gray
himself seemed to be handling the loss of their father remarkably well despite
his clinging to their mother constantly, but Zach was too lost in his own world
to notice.
And now the celebration of fertility and new life coincided with Zach’s
terrible mood, and the slow beat of the drums matched the throb of his heart.
Gifts for the Gods piled high and the central fire was fed until its blaze
nearly startled the herd into motion. Zach stared into its depths as if it held
the answers he sought, but the flames did not whisper words of wisdom to him,
not that he could hear. The tribe simply worked around him, choosing to ignore
his presence so not to bring down the happy atmosphere. He caught sight of his
mother and his aunt laughing and telling stories with their other siblings as
food was shared and people danced and the sun rose high above them and he knew
this would be good for his family in their recovery, even if it didn’t feel
good for him along with them.
“Zach,” said Gray, sitting beside him with a small sack of grains to share.
Zach took a handful and nodded in thanks but said nothing. Gray waited, chewing
on his own, before he continued. “You have not left at night for some time,” he
said, and Zach didn’t even have the energy to clap a hand over his mouth and
warn him to be careful with his words. The tribe was too busy with the
festivities to take note of his voice anyways, at least until the official
chants and blessings began during which Gray’s attention would be in high
demand. 
“I will no longer,” said Zach, knowing Gray would not leave it be. “And I wish
not to speak of it ever again.”
“You don’t mean that,” said Gray, disbelief obvious in his voice.
“I do,” said Zach, and he prayed that would be the end of it.
“I don’t believe you,” said Gray, as if it wasn’t obvious. Zach scowled and
looked down at his lap.
“And yet it is still true. I will have nothing to do with Owen from this point
further, you have my word on that.”
“Did you quarrel?”
“Something opened my eyes,” said Zach, bitter and raw from the parting. The
worst part was it was all his fault in the first place. He would have never
realized his attraction to Owen if he hadn’t wandered from the herd, and he
never would have walked down a dishonest path behind Kel’s back if not for
Owen. And Owen could also blame Zach for tempting him, if Zach was correct,
because Owen had said he had a family before. Two men did not simply lust after
each other without one of them leading up to it, that wasn’t how bonds worked.
Zach had even begun to doubt if he had formed a bond with Owen or if it was
simply twisted in some way. He ached to apologize to Owen once again, he had
lost track of how many times he said it previously, but he knew it would never
be so.
“I think… you rush to alter things in your life you think you have control
over. You push people away in an attempt to regain control over your life, when
really none of it can be changed from what is meant to be. What’s happened was
meant to happen, and what comes will come no matter what you do. Do not use
father’s death to justify making yourself miserable,” he said, “father would
never allow it.” For one so young, younger than Zach and many of the tribe,
Gray had seen many sights and learned many things. Zach often forgot how much
Gray was exposed to due to his spiritual position within the tribe, one that
led him down many paths Zach would never walk himself in his entire lifetime.
He was wise beyond his years, perhaps a product of the expectations that rested
on his shoulders all his life. From the time he was born, the Elders expected
him to excel in every way, and thus far Gray had never disappointed them. Only
now was he beginning to demand more autonomy over his life and his actions, and
only now did his words truly come from the heart instead of the mind. Zach
would one day watch Gray perform miracles, no doubt.
But his words hit close to home and Zach was too hurt to see the truth behind
him. All he heard was his younger brother feeding him words tinged with the
speech of the Elders –whom Zach respected but often grew impatient with- and he
didn’t want that, not now. Zach scoffed and cast the remains of his food onto
the ground, a sign of disregard that somehow aligned with the celebration going
on around them. Gray frowned, but he appeared more sad than angry. “Go,” said
Zach, “the Elders call for you to begin the ceremony amongst their numbers.”
Gray stood and placed his hand on Zach’s shoulder as he did. “You were happier
with Owen than you ever were with Kel, he was good for you in ways you cannot
see, not while your heart remains bruised and distrustful,” he said, squeezing
Zach’s shoulder. He left on that note, leaving Zach feeling more morose than
ever.  
Zach stood only when the tribe gathered around the Elders for the commencement
and the sacrifice. Offerings of food, water, wine, and even goods made by their
own hands were made by families within the tribe to give thanks for their good
fortune or to plead for a better lot than they had been given in the most
humble way possible. People proceeded to drink themselves silly on the wine,
which had interesting effects on inhibitions. The point of the inclusion of the
drink was to prompt people to say what they always felt too scared to say
before, which led to two proposals for bonding and one fight breaking out. Zach
watch it all from a distance with a skin in his hand, untouched by his lips.
The sun trailed far above their heads.
Kel found him and kissed him lovingly on both cheeks before leaving him be. His
mother sat down next to him and recanted a tale of how she met his father, a
story Zach had heard many times before and still enjoyed. And yet, as he
listened to how the river currents had swept against her legs and the sight of
his father collecting water on the other bank had left her breathless, Zach did
not believe her words. How could their meeting be so miraculous, considering
how Aunt Claire had interrupted them before they had exchanged more than a few
words, and his father had parted quickly with only a brief promise to return?
If anything, it sounded imaginary, as if his mother had dreamt it up and
decided it would fit nicely in her life. Traitorously, he wondered how they had
actually met and fell in love, despite the other accounts he had heard of the
same story, from his father and his aunt and his grandmother, which all lined
up and made perfect sense before today. But how could such an instant feeling
be real, and why had he never recognized it in his own life? Why did his
parents get to meet each other and find perfection in each other’s arms, in how
the other spoke, in spending each and every day for the rest of their bond with
happiness in their hearts, when Zach himself was left cold and hollow on the
inside? He didn’t love Kel, he knew this, and they had no dramatic meeting to
spark a bond between them. He began to doubt if he would die content, or simply
live the rest of his life looking into the underbrush and waiting for someone
would never come back for him.
Zach hated his mother in that moment, bitter and impatient with her tale even
as she reached for his hand and held it close to her heart, where he could feel
it beating safely and strongly within her chest. “I hope you find such
happiness in Kel,” she said, not realizing how much her words stung. And Zach
didn’t realize he was so affected as to start crying until the tears began to
fall and his mother gasped and reached to wipe them away with soft hands.
“What’s wrong, my son? These are not happy tears,” she said, ever astute in a
way no one else was. He loved her so much in that moment.
“I do not deserve that love,” he said, tears falling freely into her awaiting
hands. The world continued to turn around them and yet he could not bear to
open his eyes and meet her gaze in fear she would see straight through him and
into his soul. He could not bear disappointing her in such a way, not after his
father was already gone, not when Gray was so perfect and respected and younger
than he by four years, not when his flaws were already apparent. He could not
let his mother see how broken he was, not when she could not mend him how she
might want to, not when there was nothing he could do to change the way things
were, as Gray had cautioned him.
“Do not deny your worth,” she said, and her conviction was so strong yet her
voice was so gentle, that for a moment Zach believed her. “Speak, tell me what
has happened to make you believe you are anything less than who I have raised
you to be, strong and kind and passionate. There is no one in the world who
should make you feel like you are anything less, for you are all that and
more.”
He could not speak in fear he reveal too much, but he knew she would not forget
this until the day she died. He was not ashamed of his tears, only of their
origin. The time for respectable mourning for his father had passed, despite
how the loss lingered in the hearts of many, and now was the time to move on
instead of remaining stagnate. Zach couldn’t use that as an excuse, for his
mother would see the lie as soon as it left his tongue. He had no other options
than to remain silent.  
“Zach,” she said, kneeling close to him and cupping his face, turning it so he
had to either close his eyes or meet hers. He kept his eyes closed, ashamed of
what she would see that. “You are my firstborn, there is none of this world who
could love you more than I. I carried you under my heart as days passed and the
herd led us from one land to the next. I watched you grow, watched you learn to
walk, run, fight, watched you stumble and scrape your knees. I was the one to
teach you how to feed yourself, and cut the finest skins, and how to smoke the
hive before collecting the nectar from it. You are of my blood, of my mother’s
blood, of her mother’s blood, and you are worth no less than any other.” She
leaned forward and kissed him between his brows, then again on the crown of his
head. “I will never not love you, no matter what you say, I could never bear
it.”
Zach held her close in a way he had not done in many years, his chest pressed
against hers and his face in her hands, his arms wrapped around her waist to
steady them both. He cried in front of her but this time it was tinged with a
sense of relief he had not felt in many weeks. His mother could disarm him, and
he presumed any man who dared keep poisonous secrets, in a way that left no
room for doubt. Her love for him as a son would overwhelm any disgust or anger
she felt towards his actions. If she drove him away as a disgrace or an
abomination, even if he was forced to live alone and away from the herd, she
would love him as the son she once knew and not what he admitted to her now. So
he spoke, a tirade of words to match the rains that often poured upon their
heads but remained absent now when it would be most fitting, and confessed to
each moment when he ceased to be her son and someone of worth and instead
reduced himself to something primal, a baser instinct that led him astray. He
betrayed her with every word he mumbled into her ears.
And she did not let him go, or cast him aside. She did not mourn the loss of
her respectable son so soon after her mates passing or yell for him to leave
and never come back. She did none of these things in favour of prompting his
eyes open. “Zach, look at me,” she said, and he did as she bid despite the fear
of it perhaps being the last time he would look upon his loving mother. “You
have made mistakes… but following your heart is not one of them.”
His exhale was shaky, the breath squeezed out of his lungs like being able to
breathe after diving below the surface of the water. “I do not know the man who
you speak of, but I would like to meet him, the man who made my son’s heart
stir for the first time as the Gods wished it.”
“He… he’s very kind,” he said, not knowing what else might be appropriate. She
smiled at him and sat back on her feet, hands now resting on his shoulders.
“He sounds wonderful…I confess… I do not know how to proceed after that, not
concerning Kel or Gray or the Elders, but I will not abandon you in this,” she
said, and her smile was infectious, though his own face was a bit sheepish.
“Gray… may or may not already know,” he said, glancing down and away. His
mother merely laughed.
“Of course he does, always conspiring against me, you two! What shall I do now
that I’m all by myself,” she said, teasing him as she squeezed his shoulders
and playfully pushed him away. “Go, if you would will it, into the forest. Find
this man who makes your heart race as mine once did, and tell him everything
you told me just now. He will open his arms to you once again, though I doubt
they truly ever closed without you within them,” she said, and kissed his cheek
one last time before standing.
“That- yes,” he said, climbing to his feet.
“Bring Bree,” she said, not so swept into the romanticism of his plight to
forget about his safety. “And be home before dark.”
“Yes mother,” said Zach, and then he was racing into the herd to find Bree, his
heart and his spirit renewed with hope.
--
The forest was louder than Zach remembered it. It had been this way all his
life and yet it had been a while since he had opened his ears to the creatures
in the trees and the ones underfoot. Bree walked with a confidence that
reassured him and let him relax as he took in the sights and sounds of the
forest. It was slowly changing the further they walked, different plants and
different animals in small, almost imperceptible ways. Zach remembered these
changes well, how the nesting grounds were completely different from the mating
grounds in many ways, how plants would bloom at different times, and fruit
would taste different upon his tongue.
He wasn’t sure which area he preferred, or if he even had a preference like
some did. His mother always enjoyed the nesting grounds more than anywhere in
between. She told him once that it filled her with unimaginable joy each time
the new generation was born into the herd, even if some would not survive to
their first heat. Children of the tribe were not born at the nesting grounds,
but usually sometime during their travels. His mother loved that time of year
more than any other. Zach also enjoyed it, despite how the tribe would grind to
halt and focus all their energy on the women alone, sometimes sacrificing the
proximity of the herd if enough mothers were bringing new life into the world.
That time of year made him more anxious than anything, and always left him a
bit in awe of the power of women.
Currently, Zach was just lost. He knew in which direction he came and thus
where the herd was, but he was running out of time and he did not want the day
to prove fruitless. He wanted his mother to meet Owen, wanted them to get along
and talk with each other and tease him gently with stories. He wanted the
meeting to be everything he had imagined as a child, wanted to put Owen on a
pedestal to show everyone who he was and how kind and strong and great he was,
and how much he meant to Zach and why.
However, that would require finding Owen and convincing him to come back with
Zach, despite the words Zach had said to him in the past. Zach didn’t know
which would be more difficult but he would try. He didn’t know how long his
mother would keep the same mindset, how long she would still be accepting of
her son with his strange bond with a man from another land and another tribe
with nothing to offer their family and no way to continuing their line. If he
went back to camp empty handed, his mother might sigh and that would be the end
of it. If that was the case, he had no tears left. Somewhere, in a small corner
of his mind, Zach wondered if Owen could see him and knew he was better off
without Zach coming back into his life.
Bree carried him all around for hours, with no sign of raptor or Owen. Bree
never scented the bushes or took him down a particular path against his
direction, so he assumed that Owen hadn’t even been in the area for a while, if
at all. This was a new place; Owen could have easily just stopped following
their herd. There were plenty of other animals and other herds to feed upon; he
had never seen Blue and her sisters hunting the herd in the first place. He
wondered if that was on Owen’s direction or just coincidence. Zach began to
fear the worse.
“Let’s go home, Bree,” he said to her, after another hour with the sun setting
and the forest growing dark around them. The sounds of night were just
beginning, a soft symphony to carry them back to the herd. Zach sagged in his
seat on Bree’s back and let himself hug loosely around her neck, sniffling
against her skin. “He left,” he said, and Bree rumbled in response, if not to
his words than to his sorrow. He couldn’t even be angry with Owen leaving, not
when he was the one to push the man away time and time again.
He heard the shouts before he saw the fire still burning in the middle of the
tribe. The celebration had come to a standstill and he spurred Bree forward to
charge through the camp and straight to the source of it all. His mother stood,
strong and steady, facing down Vic who was practically frothing at the mouth in
his fury. Zach did not dismount from his perch on Bree’s back, instead walking
her powerful form right up behind his mother and supporting her. His mother was
bleeding from a cut on her forehead and Bree was immediately pawing at the
ground, fighting the urge to charge the man before them until Zach commanded
it.
“You laid a hand on my mother,” said Zach, and looked to Vic for the
confirmation. Zach’s anger burned in his chest, his sadness forgotten beneath
it. Vic looked from Bree to Zach to his mother, and Zach watched with sick
satisfaction as the colour drained from the man’s face. On his mother’s other
side, his Aunt Claire took her place, and behind them stood Gray, clutching his
wrist close. “What makes you dare to do this?” he asked, not knowing if it
would be Vic who answered or Claire in his stead.
“He’s upset by Gray’s gifts and the drink makes him bold,” said his mother,
ignoring how the blood slowly made its way down the side of her face. Zach
admired her resolution in front of the man who had officially declared himself
an enemy of their family.
“You strike out against us,” said Claire, “we cannot overlook this. The Elders
will be gathered at once and, as the impartial party, they will decide your
punishment.” The crowd stood with them on this one, thrumming with energy,
anger, and distrust, and Zach was happy to have so many at his back.
“We will not forget this,” said Zach, and finally slipped from Bree’s back. The
Elders and a few of the larger tribe members led Vic away, and Zach watched
them go with no small amount of wariness. “He will not get off easy,” said
Zach, well aware the punishment for violence was severe among such a tightknit
group.
“Your father is not so long dead that people forget who we are and our kindness
over the years,” said his mother.
“They will stand with us,” said Claire, wrapping an arm around her sister’s
shoulders for a brief moment before turning their attention to Gray. “Are you
alright, Gray?”
Gray held his wrist out and Zach took it gently in his hand, turning it over to
see the bruise that was sure to form. “It doesn’t hurt,” said Gray, and Zach
smiled in relief.
“You were very brave,” their mother said. “But you are yet a child, do not
stand up to someone like that again without me at your back.”
“Or me,” said Zach. “You are not invincible, even so revered.”
“I know,” said Gray, but he seemed upset by their words so Zach and his mother
let the topic drop.
“Have you eaten, Zach?” his mother asked, and Zach shook his head. She led him
to the fire and they sat together, Gray in between them. Claire and her bond
mate, Zara, joined them after with water and a rare slither of meat. Later,
after the crowd had settled, his mother’s younger sister joined them, a baby
born in the year passed on at her breast and her bond mate in tow. Zach hadn’t
spoken with them in a such long time but the support and trust remained after
so long, unaffected and unbroken by the separation. He reacquainted with his
new cousin, far younger than he, and eventually her other two children, both
girls, joined them. One had her own bond mate as well, her body no doubt soon
to swell after the last Rut, and the other kept Gray’s mind off the throbbing
handprint on his wrist. Kel arrived later into the night, bringing news of
Vic’s sentence.
“Why is he not banished?” Claire raged, her voice loud and demanding an answer
from anyone who dared raise their voice. “He dares to hit one of our own and
yet he still remains in the tribe? Is that not unsafe?” she said, her voice
venom, when the Elders came to placate her.
“It is only until we reach the nesting grounds, and then a more permanent
solution will be reached. His bond mate has offered to bow to any requests
regarding his proximity to your family you might make,” one of them said, but
it wasn’t good enough.
“I would speak to her myself,” his mother said, her hand in her sisters for
support. The Elder’s nodded and brought the woman to them and they invited her
to sit amongst their circle as they spoke, not wanting to seem uncooperative or
hostile. She sat neatly across from his mother, next to his aunts, and Zach
realized her had never really seen her before today. She was a face truly lost
in the crowd, and Zach regretted not being sociable with her before.
“I do not condone the actions or words of my bond mate,” she said, an excellent
start to the conversation.
“No, we wouldn’t think that of you,” said his mother, as Claire offered her
something to drink it out of good faith. She only took a sip.
“I don’t know why he keeps doing this, but I beg you to reconsider your demands
for harsher punishment,” she said, and Zach, along with the rest of his family,
could hear the worry in her voice. “He is my bond, and he lives with me and my
mother’s family, to send him off would ruin me and strip my children of a
father figure. I beg you not cast him out,” she said, reaching out to clasp her
hands around his mother’s and lowering her head in a bow as a sign of humility
and respect. “Any other request, anything that would change your mind, name it
and see it done.”
His mother remained silent for a while. Zach and his family held their breath
in anticipation of what she would decide. Claire, obvious, was insistent on the
usual extreme punishment, but Zach knew his mother, and his mother had a kind,
caring heart. “Blame the drink,” she said, finally, “but do not forget what has
happened here today. Remind him of his place, of all our places within the
tribe, and see that he regrets his actions. Should he strike another, for
whatever reason, regardless of his victim, we will send him out and not permit
him within the boundaries of this tribe again. Should my words be ignored here
today, you will make an enemy of us, and we will stand together against you,”
she said, a rarely used power of authority in her voice that the other woman
cowed in the presence of. The family, all sitting around Zach’s mother, made a
noise of agreement, promising their support should opposition between the
families come to pass. Zach’s grandmother had many children after such a long
life, all of who had their own children now; they were one of the largest lines
in the tribe, and not one to be trifled with lightly.
“Go no, and know that your bond mate will stay only because I know all to well
the pain of losing a loved one,” said his mother, and the woman left, humbled
but grateful. At once his mother seemed to catch her breath and breathe easy
again, and she sagged into her sisters’ arms as if exhausted. She sagged into
her sisters’ arms as if exhausted. “Such a long day,” she said, and they all
made some noise of agreement. “I would see the next day come and pass
peacefully, the Gods will it.”
“You retire to bed?” asked Claire, and his mother sighed.
“I think it is best,” she said. “My head stings something fierce, and my heart
grows weary of all this excitement.”
“You sound like mother,” said Claire, and the older generation laughed. “Go,
and I will see your young tended to properly,” she said, clearly meaning both
Gray and Zach both. But Zach had to stand and find his way to Kel’s side.
His mother caught his arm and tugged him away from prying ears. “You did not
find him?” she asked, and Zach could ignore it no longer. He looked down at his
feet.
“I fear he has left me for good,” he said, knowing it was plausible and likely.
“I turned him away one too many times, there’s no reason for him to linger just
waiting for me the change my mind again.”
“Nonsense,” she said, “He loves you, I know he does. I cannot think of anyone
who has met you who wasn’t charmed in the warmest of ways, there is no way your
bond could be ignored. He will come back to you,” she said. She hugged him
close one last time and then sent on his way to Kel’s side. He barely slept,
his thoughts and emotions keeping him awake well into the night and well past
when most of the tribe had retired for the night.
When he awoke in the morning, Gray was shaking his arm. He had been crying, his
face puffy and splotched with red. “Zach, it’s Mom,” said Gray, and Zach felt
his breath catch in his throat. 
***** Blood *****
Chapter by DraxInTheSack_(Caddaren)
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
“What’s wrong?” said Zach, climbing to his feet.
Gray sniffed as Zach pulled him to his feet. It took him a moment for him to
regain his voice but Zach waited, as patient as he could manage, wiping away
the snot from under his brother’s nose. Beside them, Kel stirred in her sleep
but ultimately didn’t wake. Her father sat up on her other side and regarded
them with drowsy curiosity before rolling onto his side and going back to
sleep. It was a miracle Gray’s sniveling didn’t wake them all.
“Mom she… she won’t wake up, and her head is bleeding again,” said Gray, and
immediately Zach was leading him to their mother’s camp next to her mount. The
Elders had gathered, each one chanting and beseeching the gods for mercy on her
spirit. One kneeled by her head tenderly putting pressure on the weeping wound
on her forehead.
“I don’t understand,” said Zach, dropping to his knees on her other side. “She
was fine last night,” he said, unsure what to do with his hands beyond touching
her cheeks to check her temperature and holding her hand. Gray sunk down on his
knees next to Zach and refused to look up from her face, his eyes swollen and
red.
“The gods have a strange, yet cruel, way of working,” said the Elder cradling
their mother’s head, her frail hands soothing their mother’s hair away from her
face. “Perhaps your father’s spirit calls to her from the spirit world,” she
said.
Zach shook his head, “no, no it must be… it’s her head, she fell asleep last
night, right Gray?” he asked, and Gray nodded. “It must be interfering with her
dreams,” said Zach, “that’s where we’re closest to the spirit world, right?”
the Elders stared at him, until at last one of them nodded in acquiescence.
Zach squeezed her hand, his own grip shaky and a scowl growing on his face.
“Then Vic is to blame for this,” he said. He raised her hand to his lips and
gently kissed it, his lips trembling. “He is to blame; he will take my mother
away from me.” With each word, his voice grew steadier, his resolve
strengthening. He lay her hand back down and climbed to his feet.
“No, Zach,” said Gray, reaching after him as Zach. Gray ran after him, clawing
at his arm and trying to hold him back. A few of the Elders trailed behind
them, but Zach paid them no mind. “Zach, you must know this won’t solve
anything,” said Gray.
“Maybe the spirits will be appeased if I offer them blood,” said Zach, grabbing
his club from his bedroll and ignoring Kel’s questions that echoed after him.
Gray got in his path and Zach shoved him aside.
“What are you going to do?” yelled Gray, and Zach straightened his shoulders,
on a beeline for Vic’s camp. Their mother had agreed to let Vic stay, but the
man was nothing but a puss to be squeezed, the product of an infection in the
tribe. Violence had never been an option before, but Zach had seen death by
another’s hands when hostile tribes met and fought. He had been younger the
last time that happened and he had seen his father take someone’s life. Zach
had lost one parent and refused to lose another. If the spirits had a grip on
his mother, he would distract them with a different offering. An animal would
not suffice, and if it meant he would keep his mother, Zach was willing to take
Vic’s life. A fire burnt in his chest. Repercussions be damned, Zach would do
this.
“I’m going to kill him,” said Zach, Vic already in his sights. He refused to
run, but his strides were long, his shoulders hunched as he let go of all other
thoughts but the satisfaction of seeing Vic bleeding out on the ground. This
would be a retribution. Zach’s anger overpowered him, red crept into his sight,
and he lost his breath as his lungs refused to move. Vic looked up from his
work and time seemed to slow. Vic stood when Zach met his eyes. He dusted his
hands off, clearly not seeing the white-knuckle grip Zach had on the handle of
his club.
“Well look who it is, come to demand more special treatment for your-” he said,
but Zach’s swing cut him off. The blow caught Vic on the chin, and Zach was
satisfied to see several of the man’s teeth go flying in a spew of spit and
blood as he stumbled with a cry. Zach’s hands steadied on the second swing, his
breath coming back to him in a surge of strength. He landed another hit on the
man’s head and watched with a sick sort of satisfaction as Vic’s skin split
open and his body slammed to the ground from the force of Zach’s own arms, his
shoulders, the quick twist of his torso and all the muscles hidden there.  
The third swing was blocked by someone’s arm, and Zach’s anger exploded as his
confusion blossomed. Someone caught his elbow and pulled him back. There was
blood roaring too loud for Zach to hear the crowd gathered around him but he
could see them, their faces ranging from entertained to horrified, through the
rage clouding his eyes. Another person grabbed him. Two people, a man and a
woman working together to control him, to keep him from his goal. Zach
screamed, infuriated, and struggled against their grips. “He’ll take my mother
away from me, let me go, let me go!” he yelled, scratching and kicking where he
could. A small group made Vic comfortable where he lay and tended to his
wounds, washing them out with water. All Zach could hear was the blood pounding
in his ears and Gray yelling, somewhere in the background, for him to calm
down.
“Zach, stop this at once,” someone said, but Zach couldn’t recognize them until
he saw their face. Masrani, an Elder with dark skin and dark eyes, was pressing
cool hands against Zach’s face, holding him still. “You must calm down, you’re
acting like an upset child,” said Masrani, and over his shoulder Zach could see
his Aunt Claire approaching at a quick walk.
“Zach, it’s okay, listen to me, your mother is going to be fine,” she said, and
his Aunt Claire had never lied to him, but there was no way she wasn’t lying
now. Zach had never felt so betrayed in his life than at that moment. He
slapped away the hands that cupped his face and took a step back from her.
“You’re lying,” said Zach, his heart still pounding in his chest. Her eyes
softened, a confession in itself, and Zach couldn’t bear to look at her any
longer.
“We have to talk about this,” said Masrani, another Elder at his shoulder.
“This is unacceptable,” he said.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” said Vic, finally raising his voice from where
he lay on the ground. The crowd quieted to hear him better. “He blatantly
attacked me, there is no excuse. Banish him, banish him at once!”
“Wait, please! My mother might be lost to me, do not let me lose my brother
too!” cried Gray, the crowd parting for him as he stumbled forward and held
Zach tight. The anger drained from his heart and it struck him that he had no
excuse, no reason not to suffer the punishment given to him. Resigned, Zach
pressed his face into his brother’s hair and pretended he wasn’t saying
goodbye.
“If you don’t do this, it will prove how you favour him! Violence will not be
tolerated in the tribe, he cannot be forgiven!” shouted Vic, blood slipping
down his chin and coating his neck. He cough, wet and gurgling, before losing
his adrenaline and letting his bond mate and children guide him to a more
comfortable position. Several other tribesmembers also called for the Elders to
make a fair decision, and Zach closed his eyes. He pushed Gray away, putting up
a courageous front, as if his lungs weren’t stuttering with fear.
“I will leave,” he said, “I’ll take Bree and go,” said Zach, refusing to move
his eyes away from Masrani’s even when Gray tugged on his hand and cried for
him to stop. “This will end the feud between our families, any acts after this
cannot be justified,” he said, and Masrani considered him with a hard gaze.
“Zach wait, you can’t be serious!” his Aunt cried, pushing towards the front of
the crowd to place a hand on his arm. “When your mother awakens-”
“If,” said Zach, his voice sharp, “if she awakens, I would not have her see me
equated to that piece of filth,” he spat, glaring where Vic lay, groaning about
his injuries.
 “We accept the terms of your punishment,” said Masrani, and his Aunt Claire
looked like she wanted to rip the man’s head off with her own two hands.
“Zach,” Gray sobbed, holding on to his brother’s torso with a vice-like grip.
“You can’t leave me, not you too,” he said.
Zach held him close but had no words to sooth his heart. It hadn’t hit him yet
that he had consented to banishment, that banishment meant he would likely
never see his family again. It felt right to do this and save them from further
assaults. He did this to keep Gray safe, so he may grow up and take his place
as an Elder, a council to the spirits and to the gods themselves. In comparison
to Gray’s potential, Zach’s life was easily forfeited. Zach pushed his brother
away and kissed his forehead, breathing in the last breath of Gray’s scent
before turning away. “I will pack and go,” he said, and the Elder’s nodded,
rendered mute by his drastic courage. He locked eyes with his Aunt, “take care
of Gray for me,” he said, and she nodded, her eyes glassy.
He walked on numb feet and gathered his things with numb hands. Kel stood a few
feet away, silent and teary-eyed, solemn yet resigned. He held her close for
but a moment and then turned to face the herd. The animals grazed like nothing
had changed and only Bree looked up at his call. She trotted towards him, and
accepted her saddle without a fuss. She kept nudging him as he slung his bags
unto her back but he ignored her after the first few times. They travelled
light, both because it was no longer his right to take anything more than the
bare minimum to survive, and because too much gear would weigh Bree down and
put them at risk if under attack.
He guided her to the edge of the herd, his hand on her neck. Bree seemed to
sense the change in the air, as she regarded the forest with wary scrutiny.
Zach was hit with a wave of guilt knowing that to bring her with him was to put
her at risk, far more risk than they normally lived in with the protection of
the herd. They would no longer have the safety of numbers, nor the support
system should something go wrong or be lost, or should one of them get sick or
injured. “I’m so sorry,” he said, voice close to her ear, then swung onto her
back. Out of the corner of his eye, Zach could see Gray fighting against his
Aunt’s grip, trying to run after him and bring him back. He considered turning
to them and waving one last time, but the thought nearly broke his heart.
“Alright, let’s go,” he said, and Bree snorted before taking off at a slow jog.
The forest engulfed them, and by the time he let himself look over his
shoulder, he could no longer see or hear the herd.
Bree trotted for a while, slowing at certain points to get a good whiff of the
plants around them. He let her do her own business, not keeping track of which
direction she headed. He had no plan for how to survive on his own, but Bree
was his only ally in this. She was young and so was he, but they knew each
other and trusted each other, had grown up together for the most part. Sure,
Bree was only a few years old and he had received her as a gift when she was
only a hatchling and he was just on the cusp of manhood, as Gray was now, but…
but… they could do this, he knew they could.
Bree stopped at a stream, listening intently to the sounds around them for a
few minutes, then ducked her head to the water. Zach slid off her back and
filled up his waterskin after gulping down a few handfuls as well. “We should
find a place to stay for the night,” he said, rubbing at the skin under her
chin. She huffed at him and shook her head, then led him away from the water
and back into the trees. He jogged to keep up with her powerful legs but the
exercise felt good, almost returning feeling to his heavy limbs. In a tangle of
a thicket, Bree tucked her legs beneath her and curled her tail around her
legs. He left the leather on her in case they needed to escape in the night,
but otherwise pulled out a handful of nuts to sate his hunger for the night,
and leaned back against Bree, a thin skin over him to keep the bugs away.
He barely slept from the chorus of sounds coming from the branching above and
around them, the small critters coming out to feed while all the larger animals
were sleeping. When he did sleep, nightmares filled Zach’s head. Each time he
awoke after a new one, he feared the spirits plaguing his mind. It was never a
good sign to have spirits playing around in your head, especially at night when
you could not cast them away with a strong thought. He suffered, sweating and
fitful until the sun came up.
They walked most of the second day, though Zach still did not keep track of the
way they headed. Bree was smart enough to keep them off the trail the herd
took; avoiding the large predators that always loomed on the fringe of the
migration trails. He passed the time by plucking stray leaves off long hanging
branches as they passed under various canopies, and sucked the juice from a
fresh fruit for his first meal of the day. His mind constantly swung back to
the way Grey clutched at him, the way Claire looked him in the eye and lied to
him without remorse, the lack of an ache in his chest at never seeing Kel
again. He cried that night, low and quiet against his chest as he curled up
beneath his skins and only pretended to keep an ear open for sounds of danger.
The third morning was quiet and Bree pranced from foot to foot. Zach slipped
onto her back quickly and they sped off as quietly as they could. By the time
the sun was directly above them, it was clear something was following them.
Zach kept a hand on his club at his hip, his pulse skipping with each step.
Paranoia threatened to set in and yet Bree kept him anchored with every part of
breath, every powerful stride. Without her with him, Zach would have feared
every sound and every spook.
It took a few minutes for their quick jog into a full run, the panic settling
into Zach’s veins even as Bree snorted and leapt over a log on sturdy legs. A
screech sounded to their right and Bree jolted in the opposite direction. Zach
trusted her to get them away from the danger and thus thought nothing of the
way the predators herded them in one direction nor the screeching and squawking
that echoed around them. When they nearly ran straight into a river, the sudden
stop threw Zach from Bree’s back. He landed in the shallows, the breath knocked
out of him and his whole body aching with fresh pain. He groaned and then
jolted upright when the cool of the water hit his face. Water could be
dangerous when trusted without precaution, and Bree was smart not to carry them
into the current. There could be any number of predators lurking beneath the
surface, ones that they couldn’t outswim or fight off. He shouted for Bree as
he scrambled for the water’s edge, then froze with only his feet in the mud.
Bree stamped her foot impatiently, her tail swaying back and forth, as she kept
her attention on the two raptors circling them both. Zach’s breath caught in
his throat, his mouth too dry. “Bree,” he said, approaching her slowly. He
couldn’t see a way out of this, not without at least one of them getting hurt.
He would rather Bree survived, at least she could return to the herd for safety
if he died. Without her, Zach would die anyways. And this was all his fault in
the first place, so he kind of felt as if he owed her. “I’m sorry Bree,” he
said, club in one fist as he came to stand by her head.
A third raptor sprang out of the trees, heading straight for them at a quick
trot. This one was bigger than the other two and moved with a certain
authority, and Zach knew at once he would have to taunt this one if he wanted
to provide a sufficient distraction for Bree to escape. When he stepped
forward, calling attention to himself, this one stared him straight in the eye.
It unnerved him, but it also struck him as familiar. Zach glanced at the other
two raptors and then glanced back at the leader in front of him. He frowned,
letting his guard down as he took another small step forward and took a chance.
“Blue?” he said, but all the raptor did was stare at him.
He saw her blue markings now and knew these were Owen’s raptors. Or they once
were, considering how Owen was nowhere to be found. Zach didn’t know if he was
happy or sad at the man’s absence. On one hand, Owen might be able to call his
girls off and Zach could live to see another day, but that would mean having a
conversation with the man and Zach still didn’t know what to say. His heart
also ached at the idea of seeing Owen, at seeing his anger and hearing his
harsh but truthful words.
 Zach stepped forward. “Blue,” he said, more certain of himself this time, and
he raised a hand slowly. There was always a chance she didn’t remember him or
possibly didn’t care enough about him to have mercy regardless, a chance she
would simply leap forward and rip his arm off without pause, but he had to try.
“Blue please,” he said, taking a small shuffle step forward. She didn’t move,
didn’t blink. Sweat trickled down the side of his face and his shoulder shook
with the need to move, but all he allowed himself was another small step. Blue
still didn’t give any indication she recognized him, and Zach wondered if death
was painful as an overall experience. He wondered if his father was watching
him and shaking his head, or perhaps shouting for Zach to get his wits back and
run for his life.
Another step and his hand was just inches away from Blue’s muzzle. He stared
her straight in the eye, unable to hear anything over the roar in his ears.
“I’m sorry,” he said, but by now his voice was barely a whisper. “I’m so
sorry,” he said, to no one in particular. He could be apologizing to any number
of people, honestly, as Zach had many regrets and had pushed so many people
away recently.
“Blue,” said Owen, and all at once, Zach saw him at the treeline, just past
Blue’s flank. He stood perfectly still, staring at the two of them, and he
looked no different from the last time Zach saw him. Meeting his eyes was like
breathing again, and the adrenaline in Zach’s veins sang for a completely
different reason, his hands shaking now. Zach stumbled back, however, and
curled in on himself. He was ashamed, and if he was to die here, in front of
Owen, he wanted it to be quick.
“At least let Bree go,” said Zach, crossing his arms to keep his composure
relatively intact. “I... I understand if you’re angry but she’s done nothing
wrong. You of all people should know how it feels to bond with… a friend.”
“Zach,” said Owen, edging closer until he stood side by side with Blue and put
a hand on her back. “I’m not going to… hunt you,” he said, but he looked angry
as he spoke, and Zach had to glance away.
“I hurt you,” said Zach, “I used you and then I left you and I have no excuse.”
Owen’s face softened, and he took a step closer. Zach shuffled back in turn,
and Owen’s shoulders sagged. He gave a short whistle, and his raptors
protested. “Don’t give me that,” he said, his tone firm, “get out of here. Find
another,” he added, and while they stamped their feet and snapped their jaws in
distaste, three of the raptors sped off into the trees. Blue, however, lingered
at his side.
“Why are you out here?” he asked, instead of yelling at Zach or demanding he
leave and never come back again. Zach took a step back and braced against
Bree’s side, using the rhythm of her calming breath to steady himself. Owen
only stared at him.
“I was cast out,” said Zach, staring over Owen’s shoulder. “I… did something
bad and they decided I had to go. I can never go back,” he said.
Owen only nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Come,” he said, and turned on his
heel.
Zach stared after him, uncertain. “What?”
“Come with me,” said Owen, calling over his shoulder. Bree was the first one to
move, long strides carrying her after Owen and Blue, her feet replacing their
steps in the mud. Zach scrambled to catch up after a few seconds of trying to
calm his rushing thoughts.
“Aren’t you mad?” he asked, walking between Bree and Owen with only a few feet
between his hand and Owen’s. He wanted to take it and hold Owen’s fingers with
his own, to walk as they used to, always touching, but he heart thundered and
he couldn’t bring himself to dare.
“I was,” said Owen, and then he stopped to turn to Zach. “Then I was sad,” he
said, and reached out to touch Zach’s face. His fingers froze a whisker’s
length away from Zach’s skin and Zach stared, wanting to push into Owen’s palm.
Owen snatched his hand away. “I have food, you can share some,” he said,
instead of anything Zach actually wanted to hear. They walked in silence after
that, and they walked for so long it grew dark beneath the trees. Owen led him
into his camp and Zach was relieved to see a fire, but startled to see another
man tending to it. He stopped, but Owen beckoned him forward.
“This is Barry,” he said, “he’s from my tribe, and a close friend,” said Owen,
and Zach eyed the man with caution. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea for him to
stay with them, even if it meant sacrificing a chance at safety in numbers. He
still had no idea where he stood with Owen, or what the man had planned for
him.
“Hello,” said Zach, but he kept his distance and sat down on the opposite side
of the fire. Barry seemed friendly enough, and his voice had the same thick
accent that Owen’s had, used to long, soft sounds instead of hard and short
ones as Zach was. They made decent conversation until Owen handed Zach a stick
with meat skewered on it and Zach forgot everything but the emptiness in his
belly.
“I will leave you to talk,” said Barry, standing, as Zach sucked juice and
grease from his fingers. Blue huddled down nearby and Zach had the feeling the
other raptors weren’t far off, especially when Barry whistled and there was an
answer from somewhere in the trees. Owen sat down next him with his own food,
and Zach snuck glances at the side of his face as they ate.
“I missed you,” said Owen, after their food was all but finished. “I kept
following the herd for days, constantly fighting with myself on leaving. I
wanted to march right up to you and give you a talking to, but I also wanted to
steal you away in the night and never let you leave… I knew that you would
never be happy unless you decided to come back on your own, so I tried to stay
close by.”
“My dad died,” said Zach, eyes on the fire in front of them. “And someone
attacked my mother. I tried to kill him, and they sent me away,” he added, his
voice low. Owen said something under his breath that Zach didn’t understand and
didn’t pause to ask about. “It wasn’t anything you did, I swear it wasn’t. I
was miserable, I wanted you back in my life, but I thought it was wrong of me
to need you. My mom… My mom wanted to meet you, actually, once I finally told
her.”
“I would have loved to meet your mom,” said Owen, and Zach allowed himself a
small smile.
“I know,” said Zach, “I went out to find you that night, a few days ago.”
Owen sighed, “we had broken off from you by then, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, it was stupid of me to expect you to wait for so long.”
“No, not it wasn’t,” said Owen, and he turned so he was facing Zach, sitting
cross-legged “I waited for so long, I wanted you to come find me again.”
“You should be angry, you should yell at me,” said Zach, avoiding Owen’s eyes.
“For what? Trying to support your family? For finding comfort in the only life
you’ve ever known? I don’t blame you for pushing me away, or being frightened.
I was scared too,” he said, and he reached out to touch Zach’s cheek as he
almost had earlier. “I loved you so much that everything and everyone else
paled in comparison.”
Zach huffed a laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, only half meaning it. His
chest burned at the idea of Owen holding him so dear. “You’ve been in love
before.”
“I have, but not like this. You completely overwhelmed me, Zach. You shone so
brightly it was nearly blinding. Even the sun seemed to dull when I got to see
you again,” he said, and his fingers were warm against Zach’s skin. “I’ve been
waiting for you all this time, and with each day the sky lost its colour, the
flowers lost their perfume, the food lost its taste. I need you, don’t you
understand that?”
“I… yes, I understand,” said Zach, closing his eyes and placing his palm over
Owen’s hand on his cheek. “I thought I’d never see you again,” he said as Owen
crowded closer, his breath on Zach’s shoulder, his legs bracketing Zach in
until Zach’s knees touched his chest and he could lean back into one of Owen’s
strong thighs.
“I was so angry with myself for driving you away,” said Owen.
“I wanted to run back to you each day,” said Zach, turning towards him with
each word.
“I wanted to hold you close,” said Owen.
“I wanted to kiss you,” said Zach, and their lips were touching, brushing
against each other.
“I want to keep you forever,” said Owen, and Zach pressed their lips together
with a hushed sigh. He reached up to hold Owen closer, one hand in his hair and
the other on his jaw. Owen guided Zach’s legs over his thighs and they pressed
close to each other. Zach practically climbed into his lap trying to reduce any
space left between then, their chests pushing against each other with each
pant.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” said Zach, his mouth moving against the skin of
Owen’s neck.
“Shhhh, shhh,” said Owen, his hands running up and down Zach’s back and
gripping at any soft skin his fingers caught on. Zach held onto his shoulders
and tugged at his hair and tears escaped the corners of his eyes. He allowed
Owen to pull his clothes away and did the same unto him, baring sought after
skin. “I’ve got you,” said Owen, and Zach choked on a small sob.
“I can’t believe I found you again,” said Zach, an absolutely mess beneath
Owen’s hands. “I can’t believe I have you.”
“Stay with me,” said Owen, laying him down on his back and hovering over him.
“I’ll make you happy,” he said. “I’ll swaddle you in the softest skins; cover
you in the finest colourful stones. We can pierce your ears with bone and weave
them into your hair,” he said, “I’ll give you a thousand kisses every morning
and another thousand every night. I’ll give you children, somehow,” he said,
and Zach had to laugh, his heart singing, “I’ll rut you into the ground and
your belly will swell with them and you’ll trip over them there’ll be so many.
You’ll never be alone ever again; you’ll want for nothing,” said Owen, trailing
marks from Zach’s jaw to his chest with gentle bites and not pausing to watch
blood bloom underneath the surface of his skin.
Zach offered up a teary grin, “I don’t need any of that; you’re the only one I
want.” Owen laughed, overjoyed and somewhat relieved, and wrapped him up in big
arms. He cradled the back of Zach’s head so when his back went taunt and bowed
away from the ground he wouldn’t hurt himself, and Zach dug his fingers into
the skin of Owen’s back until the skin gave way and blood beaded beneath his
nails, losing himself in their hold of passionate lovers, of lifelong mates.
       
Chapter End Notes
     I tried to end it on a good note. Hopefully I'll write more in this
     AU later~
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