Daisy's Decision (Icehome)

I need his friendship, or I really will sink into the depths of despair and never climb out again.

So I leave my empty, tragic little hut. There’s chatter farther down on the beach, and I can see others gathering by the main fire pit. I know what I should do. I should put on a bright smile and join them, just like I used to do back on Praxii. Hide my feelings, choke down my frustration and beam and laugh and act like I don’t have a care in the world. I can’t do it, though. I head down to the beach instead.

CHAPTER 2

O’JEK

“Isn’t Daisy hungry?” S’teph asks as she hands out bowls of thick fish stew. Her gaze strays to her mate and kit, glancing at them before she returns to dishing out food. “I saw her at the beach by herself. She didn’t eat breakfast, either. She looks thin if you ask me.” She holds a bowl out to me and her gaze slides over my shoulder. “Pak, put the ball down and come eat. You too, Rukhar.”

The two boys brush past me as I take the bowl and retreat a few steps away from the crowd. These people are not like Shadow Cat clan. They like to gather and talk over one another, males and females mingling, kits underfoot. I move to the edges of the group and eat my food quickly, watching as I’rec heads for the group with a rolled-up skin in his arms.

Not again. I bite back a sigh of frustration at my clan-brother and choke down another mouthful of soup. They do not use the spices I would, and it tastes bland. I imagine how it would taste if I had been the one in charge of making food. I would have kept the fatty fish separate instead of mixing it with the drier, flakier fish that works so well in the soup. More roots to add flavor, and more of the wither-vine leaves to add a spicy edge to things. But a hunter does not offer to cook if he can hunt, so I say nothing and eat the food, trying to remain grateful for every bite. My belly is full. Truly, I have no complaints.

I’rec scans the group and sees F’lor sitting with P’nee. His face brightens and he squeezes into the group, nearly pushing aside P’nee’s mate S’bren in his haste. “F’lor, I have need of your reading once more.” He gestures at the skin. “Will you read Tia’s letter to me again?”

“Let her eat,” P’nee calls out, holding her bowl away from the inquisitive kit in her lap. “Can’t it wait a bit?”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind,” F’lor says, getting to her feet. She dusts sand off her leathers and takes the rolled-up skin from I’rec. “Let’s move away from the food, though, shall we?” She steps over P’nee and her mate and I’rec holds a hand out to her. She takes I’rec’s hand, grinning up at his eager face. “Who am I to stand in the way of true love?”

I’rec leads her away and I notice R’jaal is frowning in their direction. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. It is not as if F’lor is speaking to him. More than that, it is not as if Tia’s letter is new. The most recent one was from two full turns of the moon ago, when A’tar took R’kan and his mate L’lah back to their home after their visit. There will be no new hints to Tia’s feelings, but I’rec obsesses over the letters. He envisions her as his mate, and so he must memorize every detail she sends.

Some days I understand this. Have I not dreamt of D’see resonating to me? Of this attraction I have to her finally being fulfilled? Of my heart’s desire finally coming true? But my chest remains silent, and Tia remains in Croatoan, and I think Shadow Cat clan must be cursed to be unwanted. U’dron and A’tam are happy with their mates, but it is hard for me not to be jealous when I see my brother Juth with his happy, plump mate and two kits at his side.

I shake such thoughts off. If I am dissatisfied with anything, it is that D’see is so miserable. Every day, she retreats further from the laughing, playful person she was and into a miserable shell. I do not know how to fix it. I do not even know how to try. Nothing I do brings a smile back to her face, and it tears at me, night and day. I glance at the shore and sure enough, there is a small figure curled up on the rocks, watching the suns set.

I ache for her and for her sadness. It reminds me of my mother, and the melancholy she wore at all times. Nothing made my mother happy. I know it is not the same for D’see, but I still worry she will sink into the sadness and never come back out. At the same time, I want to shake her with frustration. Why does D’see think a red mark on her face changes anything? Why can she not see that she is as brilliantly clever as she ever was? That she brings joy with her smile? But she acts as if her life is over and I do not know how to help her. I’rec says I should leave her alone. Give up on her.