again and looked back into the woods as if sharing a smile with Christopher. “Oh, Chris,” he murmured. “How wonderful.”
Wynter was utterly confused and very unhappy now at what seemed to be a shared secret that was totally over her head. “Why is he so angry, Razi?”
Razi looked kindly at her. “Because he’s a good man, sis.” He looked back into the trees again, grimaced and crossed to sit down by Wynter’s side.
“All right,” he said. “I certainly don’t know as much about the female side of things as the Merron women do—contraceptive infusions and such, but I’ll tell you what I can, if I may?”
Wynter looked steadfastly out at the river while Razi told her everything he knew. When he finally stopped talking and ran his hands over his heated face, she felt like she might never be able to meet his eye again. But she also felt tremendously powerful and liberated and strong. It was as though Razi had opened a door and shown her an immensity of possible futures, where once she had believed there was only one.
Christopher came back to find them saddling up the horses. He was embarrassed and hangdog, and Razi fought a grin as he took back the spade.
“Sorry,” said Christopher, his eyes downcast.
Razi clunked him gently on the top of his head with the spade. “Oh, you are
not
!” he said slyly and carried it over to tie it to his horse.
Christopher rubbed his head, looking confused. Wynter came and gazed up at him until he met her eyes. When he finally turned to her, she shocked him by stretching up and kissing him softly on the lips. He kept perfectly still for a fraction of a second, then he pressed his mouth down on hers so that their lips parted delicately against each other. They didn’t touch, except for that singular exquisite contact. But, just before they parted, the tip of Christopher’s tongue brushed gently against Wynter’s and it felt like he had run his hand all the way from the top of her head to the soles of her feet.
She pulled away with a small sigh and the two of them stood for a moment, their eyes shut, their heads still tilted at the angle with which they had ended their kiss. Then Razi coughed softly behind them, and they turned away from each other, blinking. When they hit the trail again, Wynter was smiling and Christopher hummed quietly to himself as they got underway.
The storms moved in by dusk, and they hurried to set up camp in the rapidly encroaching twilight. They had just enough time to get their belongings under canvas and lay out their bedrolls before the sky opened in a tremendous, bruising downpour.
They dived into the tent and lay in the dark, listening to the rain batter itself into the unresisting forest. At Wynter’s feet, Razi drew up his cloak and curled against the pillow of his saddle. Christopher tightened his arms briefly around her and she felt him kiss her neck before settling down to sleep.
There had been no more sign of the other travellers. As she fell asleep, Wynter thought about them out there somewhere, no more aware of her presence in the world than all the little animals of the night. She imagined their two camps as seen by God, minuscule and insignificant, their paths little threads laid on the map of the world, intersecting once and then never again. Overhead, the thunder finally made its appearance and she jumped as it bellowed its anger to the sky. Christopher took her hand and settled his forehead against her back. Razi snored softly in the gloom. Wynter settled deeper into the warmth of her cloak. After that, sleep pulled her swiftly down, and the world bled away into darkness and muffled sound.
Sons of Wolves
A round midmorning the next day, the sun finally came out. The joy it brought was short-lived, however, as midges descended in a vicious cloud, and everyone sighed and pulled their scarves up around their faces. Wynter was swatting at the flies and grumbling miserably to herself when Razi jerked his horse to a
Wynter was utterly confused and very unhappy now at what seemed to be a shared secret that was totally over her head. “Why is he so angry, Razi?”
Razi looked kindly at her. “Because he’s a good man, sis.” He looked back into the trees again, grimaced and crossed to sit down by Wynter’s side.
“All right,” he said. “I certainly don’t know as much about the female side of things as the Merron women do—contraceptive infusions and such, but I’ll tell you what I can, if I may?”
Wynter looked steadfastly out at the river while Razi told her everything he knew. When he finally stopped talking and ran his hands over his heated face, she felt like she might never be able to meet his eye again. But she also felt tremendously powerful and liberated and strong. It was as though Razi had opened a door and shown her an immensity of possible futures, where once she had believed there was only one.
Christopher came back to find them saddling up the horses. He was embarrassed and hangdog, and Razi fought a grin as he took back the spade.
“Sorry,” said Christopher, his eyes downcast.
Razi clunked him gently on the top of his head with the spade. “Oh, you are
not
!” he said slyly and carried it over to tie it to his horse.
Christopher rubbed his head, looking confused. Wynter came and gazed up at him until he met her eyes. When he finally turned to her, she shocked him by stretching up and kissing him softly on the lips. He kept perfectly still for a fraction of a second, then he pressed his mouth down on hers so that their lips parted delicately against each other. They didn’t touch, except for that singular exquisite contact. But, just before they parted, the tip of Christopher’s tongue brushed gently against Wynter’s and it felt like he had run his hand all the way from the top of her head to the soles of her feet.
She pulled away with a small sigh and the two of them stood for a moment, their eyes shut, their heads still tilted at the angle with which they had ended their kiss. Then Razi coughed softly behind them, and they turned away from each other, blinking. When they hit the trail again, Wynter was smiling and Christopher hummed quietly to himself as they got underway.
The storms moved in by dusk, and they hurried to set up camp in the rapidly encroaching twilight. They had just enough time to get their belongings under canvas and lay out their bedrolls before the sky opened in a tremendous, bruising downpour.
They dived into the tent and lay in the dark, listening to the rain batter itself into the unresisting forest. At Wynter’s feet, Razi drew up his cloak and curled against the pillow of his saddle. Christopher tightened his arms briefly around her and she felt him kiss her neck before settling down to sleep.
There had been no more sign of the other travellers. As she fell asleep, Wynter thought about them out there somewhere, no more aware of her presence in the world than all the little animals of the night. She imagined their two camps as seen by God, minuscule and insignificant, their paths little threads laid on the map of the world, intersecting once and then never again. Overhead, the thunder finally made its appearance and she jumped as it bellowed its anger to the sky. Christopher took her hand and settled his forehead against her back. Razi snored softly in the gloom. Wynter settled deeper into the warmth of her cloak. After that, sleep pulled her swiftly down, and the world bled away into darkness and muffled sound.
Sons of Wolves
A round midmorning the next day, the sun finally came out. The joy it brought was short-lived, however, as midges descended in a vicious cloud, and everyone sighed and pulled their scarves up around their faces. Wynter was swatting at the flies and grumbling miserably to herself when Razi jerked his horse to a
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