He hadn’t come down from the treehouse much lately.
Only to pee and refill his water bottle.
His mood hadn’t changed after the day Papa and I found the foxtails, and the sadness in Fennec’s eyes hadn’t vanished, only worsened.
I was worried about him, but Papa said to let him heal and not urge him to talk to us.
It would only make things worse, and that’s the opposite of what I wanted.
“Gonna give that to Fennec?” he asked, nodding toward the bowl in my hands.
“Yes. Maybe he’s awake now. He hasn’t eaten anything since this morning.”
Papa got up as well and brought his bowl over to the bin to then wash it. “Tell him the storm is over and that we’ll go hunt tomorrow. That might take his mind off whatever’s messing with his head.”
I nodded. “I’ll tell him. Let me know when you go to sleep, okay?”
“I will.”
Walking over to the tree, I climbed up the ladder and set the bowl on the wooden plank in front of the entrance so it was easier for me to pull myself up, and when I was inside, I picked the bowl up again and looked at Fennec.
He was lying there with the covers tightly wrapped around his body and his hair covering half of his face, making it hard for me to see if he was actually asleep or not.
I set the bowl down next to me and moved over to brush his hair out of his face, revealing a frown that I must’ve caused in that very moment.
“Hey,” I whispered, leaning in and kissing his forehead. “I brought you dinner. You have to eat something.”
Fennec muttered something I couldn’t understand before his eyes opened and met mine. “What time is it?”
His voice was raspy and low, sounding as if he was losing his voice because of the cold.
“Almost eight. You need to eat, Fen. I made pasta and added the last can of tomatoes so Papa won’t have to whine about eating the same thing again tomorrow,” I whispered with a grin.
A small smirk tugged at his lips, then his eyes moved to the bowl next to me before he pushed himself up to sit.
“Not like we’ll have to eat meat for the coming months.”
Yeah, his voice was slowly starting to fade.
I placed my hand at the side of his neck and brushed my thumb along his warm skin. “Do you have a sore throat? You don’t sound good.”
“I feel fine. Don’t worry.”
“I’ll make you a cup of tea. It will help.”
He didn’t accept nor decline, so I grabbed the bowl and gave it to him. “Eat up. I’ll be right back,” I told him, pressing one more kiss to his cheek before turning toward the opening.
As I pushed the curtain aside, Fennec cleared his throat and made me turn to face him again.
“Is Papa still awake?” he asked.
“Yes, he’s shoveling snow. He said it won’t snow tomorrow, so we can go hunt. You should come too.”
“Does he want me to come?”
I was the one frowning now. “Of course he does, Fen.”
“And do you want me there?”
What kind of ridiculous questions were those?
To show him just how much I wanted him, I crawled back and straddled his lap, placing both hands on his cheeks and then kissing him deeply.
He kissed me back after a few seconds, wrapping his arm around my back and pulling me closer while he put the bowl down again.
It was obvious that he’s been going through a rough patch in the past few days, but I was right there to reassure him.
Our tongues brushed against each other, but I broke the kiss before Papa had the chance to hear us go quiet and wonder what the hell was going on up here.
I looked into Fennec’s eyes, determination written all over my face. “I want you there with me, no matter where I go,” I whispered.
“Good.”
I smiled at his quick reply. “Good. Now, let me go make that tea for you. And eat.”
I climbed back down, and before going into Papa’s cabin where I had stored all the herbs I managed to grow before the holidays, I let him know what I was up to.
“Would you like tea as well?”
“If you’re boiling water anyway, sure.”
I went inside and pulled the small container with mint out of the cooler Papa now kept in his cabin, and after checking to see if the leaves were still green and smelled good, I headed back outside to fill a pot with water.
“Did they survive the cold?” Papa asked as he stepped next to me to look inside the container.
“Looks like it. They probably froze at some point, but they still smell nice.”
I held the container up to his nose for him to smell, and when he nodded, I smiled. “Good, huh?”
“Definitely. Too bad we don’t have any honey.”
We’d have to wait until spring to go look for honeybees and hope to find combs along with them.
“It’s gonna taste good with or without.”
I set the pot on the grill and grabbed three cups, one for each of us.
“How’s he doing?” Papa asked, sitting down on the tree trunk.
I sat down next to him and shrugged. “He seems sad. But at least he’s eating. I’ve never seen him like this.”
Depression was the first thing that came to mind after realizing he wouldn’t come down from the treehouse for more than a day, but what did I know?
“Me neither. I just know that his mood changed a lot when it was only him and I.”
“Really?”
Papa nodded and turned his head toward the treehouse with a sigh. “Some days he was talkative and relaxed, the next he couldn’t look at me without shooting me angry glares. And then there were days on which he only came down here to eat. No way I could talk to him in those moments.”
“So you never asked him if there was something wrong?”
“How could I? He either ignored me or told me to be quiet. He was disrespectful toward me quite a few times. Biggest reason why there was tension between us.”
I couldn’t believe Fennec ever being disrespectful toward Papa, but then, I had seen them fight just days ago when we walked back to camp after the holidays.
“Has he ever tried to hurt you?” I asked, surprised by my own words.
Papa was quiet, and when he didn’t reply, I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat in a matter of seconds.
“Has he?” I croaked, scared to hear the answer.
“He’s been aggressive toward me before, yes. Pointing his knife at me or pushing me. It’s not easy to talk about it, but I guess that’s why I asked you if he’s ever tried to hurt you.”
“He never has,” I assured him. “I’m sorry, Papa.”
He shrugged and smiled at me, then he reached over and grabbed my hands. “I know I told you that I don’t know what’s wrong with him, and that’s true for the most part. But his brain’s not working right. I can tell by just looking at him while he does certain things. The emptiness in his eyes when he kills an animal is the same as when he was aggressive toward me. There was no regard whatsoever, as long as his needs were met. He has little concern about other people’s feelings,” he said quietly.
Papa’s words made sense, but it was hard to believe, seeing as when Fennec looked at me, his eyes were filled with passion and love.