They couldn’t even talk to each other, not really, but she found comfort in his presence, even with her anxiety about his possible anger. Especially now, as the reaction to her close call with death was finally setting in. She was a bit calmer this time than her last confrontation with a bat-cat. At least this time, she hadn’t taken a heart-stopping plunge first. Nor had she seen someone get brutally slaughtered in front of her, just moments before she had to run for her own life, feeling completely alone and abandoned. With the bruises and aches of that fall still plaguing her, she now had a new set of wounds. If things kept going at this rate, she’d be nothing but walking pain when she left this cave.
Jotaha hadn’t abandoned her. He’d come back for her, and now he’d shown true concern over her, treating her wounds with something that even numbed her pain, making her far more physically comfortable. Her mind remained uneasy, roiling in turmoil, reeling to find its footing again after a shocking series of traumatic events. She almost felt bad for all the video game avatars she’d put through so much danger. There was no glory in this. No excitement in the aftermath of defeating a foe. Just exhaustion, pain, and fear that another enemy hid right around the next corner.
Jotaha remained silent as she sipped the tea he’d given her, and she worried that he had already figured out about the dart and was mad at her. Logically, she knew that him talking would be mostly pointless. She doubted either of them had the energy to put any effort into a language lesson. She was fortunate that they’d been able to muddle through their system of charades enough to end up at this point.
It was likely that he realized the same thing and that was why he chose not to speak, but doubt ate at her, making her want to talk just to break the heavy silence that fell between them. She resisted the urge, growing increasingly more tired as all the adrenaline seeped from her system and her pain no longer kept her alert.
Her stomach chose to break the silence for her, growling in a reminder that the sweet bun she’d eaten earlier had done little to fill it and the tea wasn’t cutting it.
Jotaha climbed to his feet more slowly than he usually did, letting her know that he was still in some pain himself, despite the paste he’d put on his wounds. Still, he went to his pack, and she knew he was about to dig through it to fetch some of the food stored in there. He planned to feed her, simply because he knew she was hungry. She’d offered him nothing in return for his generosity but her mistrust.
She couldn’t bring herself to look in his direction as he dug into his pack, keeping her gaze firmly fixed on the pulsing stones. They should have been hypnotic, but she was too aware of Jotaha’s movements to be lulled into a trance, even considering how tired she was.
She heard no sound of outrage at the discovery of the missing dart, or at items being in the wrong places in his pack. Instead, he returned to the stone ring with a wrapped blood bar that he handed to her. He pointed to his stomach, where she could just barely see the edge of the glowing tattoo that covered his groin, just below the gashes in his belly scales that he’d coated with paste. His greaves still covered most of the circular design.
“Hon-gree.”
She nodded and took the blood bar, though she had no enthusiasm for the unpalatable food. It would be the height of rudeness to reject his offer at this point, given all he’d done for her. Besides, he was right. She was hungry, though she had no appetite. Her stomach had demands that she would do well to fill, especially with the need to recover after her ordeal.
Jotaha stood beside her for a moment longer, after she’d taken the food. His tall form towered over her, but she didn’t feel intimidated by it in that moment. It was more like he wanted to communicate with her, but couldn’t figure out what he could say that she would understand. She knew the feeling, and the frustration.
Instead of speaking, he finally returned to his seat, closer to her than he’d been before, but still giving her some space. The sounds of her dutifully chewing the hard, minerally tasting bar, while trying to ignore the gag reflex the gristly bits caused her, filled the silence. She wished wholeheartedly for a loudly crackling flame, instead of the silent glow stones.
When she finally finished the tea and the bar, she was grateful she didn’t feel the immediate need to relieve herself. She wasn’t ready to face the poop beetles again, though she felt a strange sense of kinship with them. They’d been right there with her, joining in the battle against the bat-cat. They’d tried to stop it before it attacked her. It was likely they’d been doing that solely for their own unfathomable insect reasons, but they’d never once attacked her or Jotaha like that, so she shouldn’t fear them. It was only her lingering distaste for bugs that made her hesitant to return to this cave home’s version of an outhouse.
Instead of a need to visit the toilet, she felt exhaustion pulling her lids closed, forcing her shoulders to relax and curl inwards. She slumped forward, and strong hands caught her before she fell into the glow stones. She was barely conscious when Jotaha gently lifted her onto her feet and drew her over to the furs he’d laid out for her. She let him support some of her weight as she sank onto her knees, then laid on her side, favoring her back.
It was only when she awakened later that she felt the weight of another fur lying over her and realized he’d added that after she’d drifted off to sleep. The first thing she noticed when she opened her eyes was that she felt like hell warmed over. On the plus side, her back was only a small inferno, but her throat was another story entirely. She could barely swallow.
With a groan, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, propping on one hand, while rubbing her eyes with the other. She picked up sounds of Jotaha moving around the cave, though they were very soft. If it wasn’t so quiet, she would not have heard the slight shifting of his scaled feet against the stone, or the faint creak of his leather armor.
She turned to look in the direction of the sound and saw that he had brought his pack to the stone ring and had settled on the rock beside it. He had dressed fully in his damaged armor again, though he must still be as aching and wounded as she was. His expression looked pensive, or would if he was human. His brow ridges were drawn together, his mouth nearly flat, with the slightest downturn at the edges. His head spines were partially lifted off his skull.
He glanced her way as she struggled to get to her feet. When he saw her difficulty, he jumped to his own and rushed to help her stand up.
She was embarrassed by her own weakness when he seemed to be so strong and unaffected by the wounds he’d suffered. She shrugged off his hold on her arm as soon as she stood on her feet. It was only then that she realized they were bare, as she felt the surprisingly soft fur beneath her soles. At some point, Jotaha had removed her shoes and socks, although he’d left her dressed in all her other clothes, save the bra she herself had not put back on after removing it.
When she swayed on her feet, he took her arm again, and this time her attempt to break away from him failed. With a firm, but gentle, grip, he drew her towards the stone ring, lending support as she limped along. The bruising in her body seemed even worse today—whatever day it might be—than it had been before she went to sleep. She had probably taken some new impact damage when the bat-cat creature had knocked her down and jumped on her.
He didn’t release her until he had her seated by the stone ring. It was only a brief time after that before she had more blood bar in her hand and a steaming mug of tea sitting on the ground beside her. She stared at her breakfast feeling almost dumbfounded, still a bit groggy from not getting enough rest, though she suspected she had slept for longer than it felt to her body.