Surviving Skarr

“No, I’m not. I don’t know where you’re getting all this nonsense. You barely know me.”

That smug smile curves his mouth. “Yes, and in the time I have gotten to know you, I have seen you keep calm when others wept. I have seen you work to collect fuel and ensure the fire was warm and blazing for the others. You have pushed me away despite resonance because I have not yet impressed you enough. And just now you have broken a finger and set it again. I see all these things and they tell me you are strong and capable and clever. Where is the lie?”

My mouth falls open. A wordless protest escapes me. He sees all that and thinks it’s strength? To me, it’s just panic. Sheer, undiluted panic. “I don’t know who I am, Skarr—”

“You are Vivi,” he says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“But I’m not. That’s just a name that was given to me because I don’t really know who I am. I don’t have enough memories.”

“Then I will help you figure out who you are.” He grins again, showing sharp canines. “It is my duty as your mate. I will help you discover the truth of who you are and point out all your merits so you see them.”

Oh boy. “Can we tone it down on the whole merits thing? I really find it embarrassing.”

“There is no shame in being strong and competent.”

He really doesn’t get it. I try a different tactic. “Okay, but if you tell them all of my strengths, then I have no secret skills to go into battle with. Remember how you were surprised by the poison spitter? It makes sense to keep some secrets hidden, so we have an advantage.”

It’s the right thing to say. Skarr’s eyes light up with delight. “You are so wise.”

“Thanks. I try.” I wiggle my hand a little and bite my lip at the surge of pain. “Fuck, this sucks ass.”

He blinks, eyes going wide, and regards my hand. “It…what?”

Oh. Oh, he won’t understand the human phrasing of that, will he? My face gets instantly hot. “I mean that this is unfortunate.”

“Sucking ass is unfortunate? Such a thing is not welcomed?”

Oh my god, he’s not going to let this go. “I mean…it’s just a saying. My hand getting hurt is unfortunate. It doesn’t have anything to do with actual ass-sucking.”

“So you would still enjoy an ass-suck?” He looks deadly earnest.

“I-I don’t think I’m going to answer that.”

A smug, knowing look crosses his face. “That is all I need to know.”

Something tells me that he’s assuming that my lack of response means that I do, actually, want an ass-eating. To be honest, I don’t know if I do or don’t, but I do know I’m not giving him any more ammo. With my luck he’d bring it up at di

Skarr touches my shoulder again. “As for your hand, it is indeed unfortunate, but we will hide it from the others. We will not tell them of your accident.” He thinks for a moment and then pulls off his outer layer of furs, offering it to me. “Carry this over your hands to mask them, like you did for me.”

I take it, surprised that he’d offer his wraps so quickly, because he needs them to protect himself from the cold. “Why would we not tell anyone I hurt myself?”

“Because we are partners. I will hide your weaknesses, just as you hide mine. Wounds are a liability, and I will not allow anyone to see you as anything other than strong and capable.”

I’m strangely touched at the support, no matter how odd it might seem. “I…thank you, Skarr.”

He nods once. “Of course.”

Maybe Flor is right and he’s developing a bit of a personality after all. Maybe I’ve been too hard on him. We’re not friends. I don’t want to pounce on him and have sex.

But it’s a start.

Chapter Fifteen

VIVI

Skarr doesn’t give me grief when I walk at the back of the group the next day. I just hold a blanket over my hands and he nods at me like we’re sharing a secret. He also doesn’t come and walk next to me, which I can’t decide if I’m a

It makes me think of the tracks I saw the other day. It makes me think of my memories of my father, too, but when I try to call them up, I get nothing. I focus instead on trying to identify the tracks I see, and to determine how many different people have walked through here.

One of the blue aliens—O’jek—drops back to check on me. “Are you well, V’vian? Do you need help with anything?”

I give him a small smile. “I’m fine.”

“You walk behind the others at all times,” he points out. “I wanted to make sure you are not hiding an injury.”

I don’t tell him about my finger. “I just like the quiet.”

He nods, as if understanding. “Being around so many can be hard at times. You will be able to take your quiet when we get to the village, too, never fear. It will be more people, but they respect a hunter’s need for peace.”

Here is someone that gets it. I smile wider, nodding. “The only memories I have are really of my father, and hunting and tracking with him. I was watching the tracks in the snow to try and jog my memories. We’re near the village, then? I’ve seen a lot of tracks made by people, some small enough to be children.”

O’jek walks at my side, and I can tell he’s impressed at what I’ve picked up. “Yes, we are near the trails where the hunters bring their children to practice their skills. We should be in the village before long. You have a good eye.”

“Just matching tracks with what I know,” I say, though his praise fills me with pleasure. If nothing else, I have a few skills I can rely on. My thoughts move back to the tracks I saw last night. “Is there a creature that has paws bigger than my hand on one side, and a tail on the other?”

“A tail?”

I describe the tracks I saw last night, how the left was clearly marked but the right was nothing but drag-marks.

He looks concerned. “Were there toes in the tracks or were they rounded?”

“Toes. Definitely toes.”

“Rounded tracks or long like a sa-khui foot?”

“Rounded.”

He grunts. “This is concerning. The only thing that large would be a full-grown snow-cat, but they do not drag their tails in the snow. The only thing that would cause drag marks could be an injured leg, but an injured snow-cat is dangerous and must be taken care of. Where did you see these tracks?”

For some reason, I don’t want to tell him. Maybe it’s my injured hand, or maybe I’m just feeling strange about the fact that I’m a dumped clone, but a creature being “taken care of” when it’s just trying to survive bothers me. “Oh, it was way back,” I tell him. “At the camp where our pods were found.”

He looks relieved. “Tell me if you see the tracks again.”

“Of course.”

Snow crunches, and I’m not entirely surprised when Skarr jogs up to join us. “What are you talking about with my mate?” he demands of O’jek. “Why are you making her smile? Her smiles are for me.”

O’jek rolls his eyes at Skarr. “I have a mate, fool. I was checking on yours.”

“I don’t need checking on,” I point out. “I’m fine.”

“She’s fine,” Skarr states bluntly, glaring daggers at O’jek. “Leave her alone.”

O’jek turns to me, his expression calm. “If you see the tracks, let me know. If you require anything—speak up.”

I nod quietly, and O’jek leaves, Skarr immediately moving to my side and glowering. The big green alien matches his steps to mine, and when I don’t speak up, he finally does. “He needs to leave you alone.”

“He has a mate. He was just checking on me. He was being nice.”