Steph's Outcast

"I know, Papa." He takes my hand and walks at my side, practically skipping with excitement as we head for the rock.

Something about the red creatures bothers me. For some reason, my mind casts back to stories from Haal, the oldest of Outcast clan. Her parents were outcasts, too, and she told stories of things they remembered, things to watch for.

And I remember that a red beach was one of them. I don't remember exactly why…just that it is bad. That we must be on our guard. That we must leave this area immediately and not return for a while. I vaguely remember stories of such things, of being forced to leave home for a full turn of the moon before it is “safe” again.

It just reinforces the fact that Pak and I should go. There are no fish to eat. There are strange, slimy creatures making the beach oily and dangerous. The other clans are far too near. There is no reason for us to stay.

So…why have we not gone yet?

I have no answer. Tonight, then. We will leave tonight.

When we get to the basket, I am not entirely surprised to see the red-maned female waiting for us. The one with the Outcast name. She gets to her feet, smiling at us when we approach, and for some reason…her pleasure at our arrival warms me. No one is ever glad to see Outcast clan. Does this female not understand who we are?

Pak gives her a happy little wave, but he is not speaking, so I let it go. He squeezes my fingers with excitement, however, as if he wishes to see what she brought and is forcing himself to hold back.

The female bites her pink lip and then sets down the leathers in her hands. Sewing, I think. She places it carefully on the rock and then indicates the basket. She takes a step back, that eagerness all over her face, and it is clear she wants us to take the basket.

I release Pak's hand and nudge him, a silent indication he is free to do so.

My son immediately darts forward, all excitement. He clambers onto the rock, tail fluttering wildly, and pulls the lid off the basket. The female smiles broader, her hands clasped in front of her teats, and she watches him with an expression of pleased adoration. She is smart to like Pak, I decide. He is a clever one, my son, and his smiles are precious things.

Pak gasps and then holds up a dried fish, showing it to me with excitement. More food, then. I nod at him in approval, and my son takes it as a cue to eat. He immediately shoves the head of the thing in his mouth, crunching down, and dried fish bits fly everywhere.

I chuckle at the sight. He is showing Outcast clan poorly. We do not eat like animals, even if we want to.

The female gasps in surprise at my son's actions, then giggles, her hand going to her mouth as if to silence herself. Her gaze flicks to mine and I am utterly entranced. The laughter…her laughter…I like it. Almost as much as I like her shining eyes. I watch her for a moment and wonder if it would be so bad to try to talk to her.

She has an Outcast name, after all. Steff.

Maybe not words, then. Maybe gestures. Pak continues to shove great bites of the fish into his mouth, smacking his lips greedily as he digs through the basket. The female looks at me again, and I give her a small nod. It is both thanks and approval. I am glad she has fed my son this day since I cannot.

Her smile widens, and her gaze darts between the basket and me, as if she is trying to consider something else to “say.” After a moment, she gestures at the fish in Pak's hand, and then at me, raising one of her brows in my direction.

I hold my hand up and give a small shake of my head. I would much rather my son eat. I will find something to scrounge for myself.

Pak pulls out a leather-wrapped bundle and holds it out to me. I take it from him and unwrap it. More leaves, and a few of the hard-shelled shrimps that are common in the tide pools. The female gestures that I should take the shrimp and put them in my mouth. When I toss the entire handful into my mouth and eat them, her expression falters and she makes a soft noise of distress.

Did she not want me to eat them? Why did she gesture at my mouth, then?

She shakes her head, indicating that it is not important, and then moves to sit down on the rock next to Pak. As she does, her foot slips on the oily beach, and she falls.