to weave a decent-sized mat out of the reeds. The strands are woven tightly, and appear to hold together pretty well. I tilt my head to one side as she smiles broadly and lays the thing out on the ground.
Then she sits on it.
I narrow my eyes, watching her face.
It is not long before she squirms, whines, and then gets up again. She takes the mat in her hands and looks it over, feeling the surface of it and then looking at her fingers. She finally glances over to me, shakes the thing, and makes more growling sounds.
I guess she thought it would be comfortable.
Beh obviously isn’t happy with the results, but I think it looks pretty good—just not something you would want to sit on. That is why my sitting mat is made of grass. I shift and hold it up to her, but she scowls at me. I move a little closer and reach out to take the reed mat from her. I look it over, bend it in the center, and use two pieces of sinew to tie the edges together, making it loop at the bottom. I tie a couple more pieces going down the side until it looks like it would at least hold the dried meat or berries. Grain would fall out, but it could certainly be used for something.
I hold it up and smile at Beh.
She smiles back, takes a long breath, and moves closer to me. I give her the grass mat to sit on as I go back to the antelope hide. As I scrape and work on the hide, Beh starts trying to make something else with the remaining reeds as the rain begins to fall hard again.
I remember other rainy days under the thick canopy of trees where I worked alongside others in such a way. It feels good to work beside someone again, especially when that someone is Beh. She may be strange; she may not know how to make baskets, and she may be very noisy, but she is my mate, and I’m thrilled she is here.
I focus on the hide, hoping to make it perfect for her. I don’t know how long we work in silence next to each other, but suddenly Beh lets out a cry, and I look over to her.
Her face lights up with her smile, and she holds high a somewhat rounded object made out of reeds. It’s entirely possible it could hold something if it absolutely had to. Beh laughs and turns it around, obviously proud of her accomplishment.
My heart beats faster, and my body tingles in her presence.
Warm, soft furs and the scent of my mate’s hair.
This is how I wake up, just as I have for the last several mornings. While I sleep, my mind creates images of Beh on her hands and knees in our furs as I enter her body, and now that I am awake, my body wants to continue along the same path.
I don’t understand why, but Beh doesn’t like this. When I rub up against her, she uses that no sound, and sometimes she gets angry, too. She does not mind when I touch her with my nose though, so I pull her body closer to mine and run my nose across her neck, inhaling her scent as I go along. I try not to push my hips into her back at the same time though it is still very, very tempting.
I hope if I am patient, she will let me put a baby inside of her soon.
A flash at the cave’s entrance signifies yet another day of thunderstorms. I will have to go out today and check the traps I set—rain or not. At least I don’t have to go all the way to the lake for more fresh water. The rain has filled my water skins from a trickle just outside of the cave.
Beh wakes slowly to my gentle touches on her neck, shoulder, and ear. For a moment, she rolls over and tucks her head into my chest. She pulls the fur up around her head and hides underneath it.
My mate does not like waking up in the morning, and it makes me smile when she does this. I don’t really think much about how I spent my mornings before Beh, but now that she is here, I can’t imagine waking up any other way.
Even though I know she is sometimes sad and scared, and I think she still misses her tribe—wherever they are—I can’t help but feel happy about her being here. She is extremely confusing, and I never seem to know just
Then she sits on it.
I narrow my eyes, watching her face.
It is not long before she squirms, whines, and then gets up again. She takes the mat in her hands and looks it over, feeling the surface of it and then looking at her fingers. She finally glances over to me, shakes the thing, and makes more growling sounds.
I guess she thought it would be comfortable.
Beh obviously isn’t happy with the results, but I think it looks pretty good—just not something you would want to sit on. That is why my sitting mat is made of grass. I shift and hold it up to her, but she scowls at me. I move a little closer and reach out to take the reed mat from her. I look it over, bend it in the center, and use two pieces of sinew to tie the edges together, making it loop at the bottom. I tie a couple more pieces going down the side until it looks like it would at least hold the dried meat or berries. Grain would fall out, but it could certainly be used for something.
I hold it up and smile at Beh.
She smiles back, takes a long breath, and moves closer to me. I give her the grass mat to sit on as I go back to the antelope hide. As I scrape and work on the hide, Beh starts trying to make something else with the remaining reeds as the rain begins to fall hard again.
I remember other rainy days under the thick canopy of trees where I worked alongside others in such a way. It feels good to work beside someone again, especially when that someone is Beh. She may be strange; she may not know how to make baskets, and she may be very noisy, but she is my mate, and I’m thrilled she is here.
I focus on the hide, hoping to make it perfect for her. I don’t know how long we work in silence next to each other, but suddenly Beh lets out a cry, and I look over to her.
Her face lights up with her smile, and she holds high a somewhat rounded object made out of reeds. It’s entirely possible it could hold something if it absolutely had to. Beh laughs and turns it around, obviously proud of her accomplishment.
My heart beats faster, and my body tingles in her presence.
Warm, soft furs and the scent of my mate’s hair.
This is how I wake up, just as I have for the last several mornings. While I sleep, my mind creates images of Beh on her hands and knees in our furs as I enter her body, and now that I am awake, my body wants to continue along the same path.
I don’t understand why, but Beh doesn’t like this. When I rub up against her, she uses that no sound, and sometimes she gets angry, too. She does not mind when I touch her with my nose though, so I pull her body closer to mine and run my nose across her neck, inhaling her scent as I go along. I try not to push my hips into her back at the same time though it is still very, very tempting.
I hope if I am patient, she will let me put a baby inside of her soon.
A flash at the cave’s entrance signifies yet another day of thunderstorms. I will have to go out today and check the traps I set—rain or not. At least I don’t have to go all the way to the lake for more fresh water. The rain has filled my water skins from a trickle just outside of the cave.
Beh wakes slowly to my gentle touches on her neck, shoulder, and ear. For a moment, she rolls over and tucks her head into my chest. She pulls the fur up around her head and hides underneath it.
My mate does not like waking up in the morning, and it makes me smile when she does this. I don’t really think much about how I spent my mornings before Beh, but now that she is here, I can’t imagine waking up any other way.
Even though I know she is sometimes sad and scared, and I think she still misses her tribe—wherever they are—I can’t help but feel happy about her being here. She is extremely confusing, and I never seem to know just
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