After arriving at the mine the next morning feeling exhausted and annoyed, I noticed several attempts on Jamie’s part to approach me, thwarted only by Tim’s scowling direction for the man to do something other than chit-chat. I worked all day, as usual, next to Mira’s grumbling figure, and, surprisingly, Jamie never made it to my side again until well after Tim excused us from the day’s work.

  “Sorry about causing you problems last night,” Jamie said after he made an extensive effort to chase me down while I attempted to leave unnoticed with the dispersing, gloomy parade of shift workers.

  “It’s fine,” I said. “My mother is always yelling at me. I already accepted my fate since I didn’t come home directly after work.”

  “Jeesh, your mom sounds worse than Timbo. I guess I’ll have to work overtime to get her to like me.” I glanced over at Jamie who was smiling as he walked next to me down the forest trail leading to the city.

  “Don’t see why you would want to do that.”

  “Ah, I wouldn’t want my friend’s mom to hate me. Anywho, how’s your father. Still sick?”

  “I’m afraid so. But, I gave him some medicine this morning.”

  “Are you a doctor, too?” I released a sigh, and Jamie suddenly skipped ahead and spun around in front of me as he eyed me while walking backwards. “Don’t tell me that—“

  “I was training to be a herbalist. Only enough to at least treat small ailments. Nothing like a doctor. Now, stop walking in front of me like that.” I glared as Jamie’s smile only grew, but he spun around, whipping his braid around like a tail of a donkey, and we continued walking side by side.

  “Damn, you sure are feisty.”

  “Only when others make me mad.”

  “Hope I don’t get on your bad side.”

  “Keep walking in front of me like that and you will!” My raised voice echoed through, and a few glaring workers looked over at me, and I lowered my head as I picked up my pace, nearly running through the large archway that led into the streets of the city. Jamie only followed, like the pestering stray dog he was becoming, but he quietly chatted with me as if he had no concept of the idea of being anything but pleasant to be around.

  “Hey, want a crumpet? Or something else to eat?” he asked, and then pointed to a street in the other direction, but I shook my head.

  “I need to go home,” I replied, feeling filthy, exhausted, and in no mood to entertain Jamie for a second night in a row.

  “Just for a moment—my uncle’s shop is down the road—Lara is working the evening shift. Come on, you can’t say no to fresh rolls or croissants, yeah?” I paused, and looked down the street of staggering buildings, and spotted the bakery a few shops down where a long line of people had the same exact idea at the end of the day.

  “Mmm, smells good, doesn’t it?” Jamie said as he tilted his head close to my ear.

  “What is with you attempting to win me over with food and drinks?” I asked while pursing my lips, and Jamie just winked, then began walking down the street while whistling loudly.

  I exhaled, but the growling in my stomach enticed me to go along with the man, and I hurried after him, following him as he completely skipped the line and barged into a back door.

  “Oh dear Lara!” he sang with a rather melodious voice, and we stood for a moment in the small backroom of the bakery that was stifling, yet aromatic with scents of freshly ground flour, yeast, and even something as delicate as sugar and butter. Barrels and crates lined the walls, and there was a large butcher block counter covered in flour, and the ceiling beams had all kinds of tools hanging. There were two clay ovens, both cool, for most bakers made their bread first thing in the morning. However, Jamie explained that sometimes they bake at night to help feed the folks working later shifts.

  “Jamie! Oh, Lillie!” Lara shouted as she entered the back room from the small curtain-entrance leading to the main shop that was noisily busy with customers. Her tan apron was covered in flour, but, the powered substance was also dusted upon her nose and hair.

  “Hey little baker, can we have something to eat?” Jamie asked, and Lara only smiled as she then moved over to a basket under the counter, and placed it on the surface, sending flour particles everywhere. “Aw, the rejects? When you gonna treat me better?”

  “When are you going to actually pay for those extra snacks?” Lara asked with a nudge to Jamie’s stomach. Then, her eyes glanced at me, and she beckoned me over. “Hey, you want some bread to take home?”

  “Um, no, it’s okay,” I said, and the siblings exchanged glances, and I darted my eyes as I stayed stiffly standing near the backdoor. “But, if I want some, I’ll come back to buy my own.”

  “We can also make a trade, just so you know—Jamie says you’ve got some valuable skills,” Lara said as she began piling oddly shaped bread rolls into a small linen sack. “We may have access to sweet things, but the berry season has been pretty harsh the last couple of years, and our customers miss having jam with their crumpets.”

  “Mmmm strawberry jam,” Jamie said, nearly drooling, and he grabbed the small sack from his sister, and then turned around as he leaned his back against the counter while Lara looked over at me.

  “I’ve never found strawberries, but there are plenty of other types of wild berries in the forest,” I said, and Lara’s rosy cheeks only further rounded.

  “Splendid. Then, it’s settled,” Lara said, and the rowdy noises from the main shop grew, and loud stomping began increasing. A wide, stocky Tamarine man with chest hair sticking out from his low-cut tunic appeared as he began barking for Lara to return to work. Jamie’s face suddenly grew colorless as the man glared and lowly grunted.

  “See you another time,” Lara said as she rushed towards the other side of the room, and the man stepped aside as Lara moved through the curtain before I could properly say goodbye.

  “Just leaving,” Jamie said lowly as he moved towards me, the man still eyeing us suspiciously as he folded his muscular arms. I followed Jamie out of the bakery, and as we walked down the street, returning to the main road, and he handed me one of the deformed rolls.

  “Who was that?” I asked between bites.

  “Oh, just the meanest guy around town,” Jamie said with a laugh, but did not eat anything. “Just my uncle.”

  “Your uncle?”

  “Yup. My family owns a few bakery shops—that’s just my uncle’s. But, I only go there because of Lara.”

  “Then why don’t you work at the bakery like your sister?” Jamie suddenly released a forced laugh and he slapped his thigh, and, once again, it was mysterious how clean he really was after working in the mines. My trousers were filthy, yet his were perfectly pristine, and his rolled up sleeves of the blue, collared tunic rather delicately placed. His hands were smooth, and what was exposed upon his arms was utterly spotless.

  “Firstly, my uncle doesn’t like me. I’m better off in the mine where I can argue with people and not get thrown out by mere familial animosity. Better to work with totally unrelated people. Family business only seems to get me in trouble.”

  “Okay.” I placed the last bite of bread into my mouth, and as we turned down the street of my neighborhood, my stomach felt ever so satisfied, and I thought about making trades with Lara in exchange for more of the delicious bread.

  “Anywho, Lara likes you,” Jamie said as we passed the blacksmith who was cleaning up for the evening, and I saw Thabias shovel the remnants of coal into a metal bucket. “She would also make a good friend for you.”

  “I like Lara too. But, there really is no need for you to help me make friends—or feed me.”

  “Yeah, cause you can find anything, including friends, right?”

  “Yeah, right.” I paused in front of the cob stairs leading up to my house, thinking of a clever way to prevent Jamie from following me any further, but, in a flash, he pushed the sack of bread into my hands, and then spun away while waving his hand as he skipped away.

  I looked down at the small bag of lumpy bread, then over to the street where Jamie bowed his head at whoever he passed, his figure slowly disappearing, but his melodious whistling echoing against the buildings. I smirked while rolling my eyes, and trudged up the stairs, thinking how odd it felt to be the one on the receiving end of others being generous with their food.

  ***

  “Lillie,” Sable spoke, his deepening voice soft and firm. “Can you teach me how to build a fire?”

  “What? A fire?” I asked. “Really? You want me to teach you?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Of course—I’d love to!”

  I was thoroughly enjoying Sable’s growing curiosity and desire to try new things—even if making fire was a relatively basic survival skill. Without fire, I truly had no concept how he stayed warm in the winter. Perhaps from his wings, or clothes. Maybe he didn’t need the warmth of a fire. But, how could he survive during the peak of the cold season? He literally lives upon the summit of the mountain!

  We entered the forest and gathered kindle-wood for starting a fire. He seemed skittish, and nervous within the cedar forest, and quickly left after displaying signs of fear. It was weird, but I didn’t really think much of the matter. He waited for me in the clearing, arms full of sticks that he did collect, and I showed him how to make a proper fire.

  “Why did you want to build a fire today in the first place?” I asked. Without a word, Sable quickly grabbed his satchel resting on the ground and revealed two shimmering fish.

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  “You want to cook your fish?” I asked, and he enthusiastically nodded. “Hey, I thought Teraganes don’t cook.”

  “I want to try something new,” he replied and extended the fish closer to me while the fire blazed next to us.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah—your food is cooked and always tastes good.”

  “Well, if you put it that way.” I glanced over at the forest, wishing I had picked up better sticks for skewers, but figured I could go back by myself. “Alright. This will be fun. Wait here while I go fetch some more sticks. While I’m gone, you can gut the fish.”

  “Huh?” Sable raised his brow while grunting, and I moved my hand into my skirt pocket and pulled out my knife.

  “Like this!” Hilariously, Sable’s eyes only continued to express confusion as I unsheathed the knife, and began showing him how to properly remove the entrails of the four fish he had brought. I then returned to the forest, and I found four large sticks that would be useful for cooking the fish over the open fire. Upon my return, Sable had successfully prepared the fish, smiling with pride upon showing me his work. I sharpened the sticks and we both worked together in preparation to cook the fish over the open fire.

  My heart felt warmer than the flames, and my stomach lurched with both hunger and fluttering of fuzzy feelings as I enjoyed every moment of teaching Sable. But more importantly, it were the side glances he gave from studious observation, to sudden admiration that caused my heart to be filled with joy. Although cooking was such a basic survival skill I detested, partaking in the peaceful afternoon of cooking fish with Sable was truly an astonishing way for me to accept that I did, in fact, know how to have fun.

  What do you like to do for fun? I remembered Jamie asking.

  This, Jamie.

  Teaching Sable mundane skills only to observe his absolute amazement of the entire process.

  After all four fish were properly prepared and skewered, I shoved one stick into the ground, angling the fish over the fire, and I hammered the end with the hilt of my knife, securing it in place.

  “You try,” I encouraged Sable who held a skewer in hand. With a sudden swoop of impressive power, he thrust the stick deep into the ground, slightly shaking the earth.

  “Alrighty,” I said, feeling surprised, and stepped aside, moving my hand out. “You can do the rest.” With a twist of his neck, his hair flung out of his face, and his crimson eyes glistened for a moment while a grin crossed his face—one I had never seen before.

  He grabbed the other two skewers, tightened his hands, and dramatically thrust the sticks into the ground next to the fire, causing the earth to shake once again. He quickly looked over at me, obviously anticipating my admiration of his brute strength, like any young boy attempting to impress anyone passing by.

  “Well—that’s impressive,” I said, not realizing the desire to reciprocate what he so desired from me, and I twirled the ends of my hair with a finger. While he stood up and observed our hard work of the fish cooking over the open flames, I allowed my eyes to wander upon his arms, noticing the bulging biceps, and the widening of his chest.

  I didn’t realize he was getting so big…

  His eyes darted over, and I quickly moved next to the fish, observing it, slightly pretending I wasn’t just thinking about the curvature of his body.

  “I usually cook food prepared in a pot over an open fire, or in an oven in the kitchen,” I said, and noticed Sable walk slightly behind me. “So, this feels fun. Like camping after a hunt—or traveling to a new city.” I could feel the the warmth of his body as he peered over my shoulder, and I turned my head, noticing how close he really was. “You still don’t cook, do you?”

  “No,” he replied, and shook his head.

  “And you’ve never made a fire?”

  “Correct.”

  “Not even to stay warm?”

  “I have a fire that never goes out.” I jolted my neck, peering up at Sable as he just stoically looked at me, as if what he said had really no deeper meaning. I straightened up, and my back slightly pressed against his chest, but he then, to my disappointment, he slightly stepped aside.

  “How is that possible?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged, and I wanted to ask a million questions about this never-dying fire, but the loud sound of a displaced log falling to the side alerted me, and I quickly turned my attention to the fire that was going rather lopsided.

  By the time I moved the burning logs around, adding more to keep it going, the fish had finished cooking, and we took the skewers out of the ground, and sat upon the blanket to eat. After the fish cooled, we used our fingers and picked apart the flesh. After eating half a fish, I felt satisfied, but, to my utmost surprise, Sable continued to eat, soon finishing all three. He crunched through the bones as if they were part of the flesh, spitting out into the fire whatever he didn’t like.

  His beastly eating habits were something I had never witnessed, for the cooked foods I brought were nothing compared to watching him crush the skull of a fish and slurping the eyeballs out from its socket. While he initially followed my example of eating the fish by tearing it off the bones with my fingers, he ended up just picking up the skewer, and devouring it with animalistic chomps while juices dripped from his strong jawline.

  “Do you eat fish everyday?” I asked while handing him a napkin, and he happily took it and wiped his greasy chin.

  “Mostly,” he replied, returning to consume the rest of his third fish. We continued to talk about cooking and eating, laughing at his surprise that there are better and tastier ways to prepare fish. I offered to bring spices if he continued to share fish for us to cook. Although I had been cooking and providing meals for my family since I was a young child, cooking with Sable, especially with whatever we could bring together for an open fire, suddenly allowed me to appreciate the art of cooking. It was invigorating, like eating a strawberry for a first time, or seeing a beautiful sunrise after a long hard winter. I was thoroughly enjoying Sable’s developing personality and his desire to evolve our time together into something of a shared experience.

  “Maybe I will bring bread to cook,” I said. “Or we could cook some corn. Oh! I heard about some people drying the kernels of corn, the roasting them over the fire and the kernels would pop into a fluffy, yummy corn. It sounds exciting to try. Maybe we can do that!”

  “Sounds interesting,” Sable replied, then puffed a heavy sigh of satisfaction after spitting out some bones into the fire.

  “Anyway, I met some new friends. Jamie is pretty annoying, but his sister Lara seems nice. I met them because of work, but I went to a tavern with them. Never drank alcohol before. It wasn’t my favorite, too sour and made my head dizzy. You know?” I looked over at Sable, interested in his reaction, however, he stared intensely at the forest while his wings slightly twitched while he seemed bothered by something.

  I had never seen Sable afraid, not even a little, but while we were in the forest, he appeared fearful while under the dark canopy of the branches. What could even scare him? He was a creature of the sky, towering over others with his massive dark wings, his blazing red eyes, and powerful teeth and jaws. He was the one to be feared, in my opinion.

  “You were really scared in the forest, huh?” Sable’s eyes narrowed, yet he stayed uncomfortably paralyzed—unwilling to answer. “Have you ever been inside these woods?” Sable shook his head while his jaw tensed. For once, it was obvious that Sable was the one uncomfortable with whatever flooding emotions he was attempting to internalize. I was always the one presenting my issues, and he often took care to comfort and cheer me up.

  I looked down at his hands resting upon his lap while he stiffly sat with his legs apart, and I moved closer to his side. Then, ever so slowly, I reached out for his hand, and moved it onto my lap as I allowed my fingers to intertwine through his cold and stiff fingers. His eyes finally broke away, and he glanced down at our fingers and allowed himself to relax.

  “It makes sense,” I said encouragingly. “You’re a Teragane, a creature of the sky. Your life is in the open air, high above the ground. The great forest is enclosed, overbearing. It can be a dangerous place. Predators can be lurking from any angle; the darkness can be terrifying and dangerous.”

  “Why is it not terrifying for you?” he asked.

  “Well, I guess it is just what I know. It is all I have ever known throughout my life. I was born and raised amongst the cedar trees.”

  “Hmm, like me living alone in the mountains.”

  “Yeah, exactly. I find that terribly frightening. For you, it is normal. The cedar forest is my normal.”

  “I guess that makes sense.”

  “I guess so, if we think about who we are as individuals and how we’ve been raised. The trees may be dark for you, but after living in the shadows all my life, you kind of forget there is light beyond the branches—you kind of just accept the lurking predators.”

  “Yeah.” Sable nodded and squeezed my hand. His stiff embrace relaxed while warmth began to increase within his hand. I noticed Sable then ease the tension from the rest of his body, his fearful expression dissipated, and he smiled at me once again. I rested my head on his shoulder while keeping our hands together while I continued to talk about some food combination ideas. I caressed his hand with my thumb, feeling the grooves of his dark skin and the softness so different than my own, and ever so gently he moved a wing behind me, like a protective, warm shield.

  It felt satisfying to help Sable express his fear, and know that he was similar to me, in which expressing emotions were difficult, a struggle just as prevalent in Teraganes as they were with Tamarines. Even if he were a growing boy turning into a man, I began to wonder if my feelings for him would also grow, and that he would be unlike other men—indefinitely.

  Sure, he was a Teragane—naturally different than those surrounding me—but perhaps he was more than just different by kind, but also by heart and soul, mind and spirit.

  Maybe I was also different than those around me and the reason for us meeting together all these years was because we found comfort in each other—we felt seen by one another.

  I thought about the men in the tavern, licking their filthy lips, eyeing me as if I was a piece of meat, and calling me demeaning names. Or, the way the men treated me in the mine, or even how Thabias had no respect for me all my life. Then, I thought about Jamie and how he revealed he had heard of me, curious why someone like me would be in the mine. Yet, his questioning, his constant touching my arm, following me around—it felt different, rushed, and pressured from something else.

  I had known Sable for over four years, yet our relationship often felt distant. I didn’t know much about his family or friends, the life he led on a daily basis, yet in that moment, with his hand in mine, and my head upon his shoulder, I felt closer than ever. I knew that our time together was often a glimmer in comparison to all the others in my life. But, perhaps, as things were evolving between us, maybe it would be more than just a fleeting moment each month.

  As the last coals of the fire sizzled and the sun began to make its descent behind the mountains, I let go of Sable’s hand and stood up to pack my belongings.

  “We should gather some more stones and make a designated fire place,” I suggested.

  “That’s a good idea,” Sable responded. Like a bolting swallow escaping roof rafters, he took off to the other side of the meadow with extraordinary speed. I watched from afar him picking up stones, gathering a few in his arms, then flying back to me with ease. I was astonished how easily he carried the heavy stone slabs, especially while flying. Without breaking a sweat or panting even in the slightest, he continued to bring stones as I placed each into a circular formation. It was beautiful, but the stones were rather heavy, and I eyed him curiously as his arm muscles seemed to have only increased since the last I had seen him.

  When did he get so strong?

  I brushed my hands off while stepping back, and I admired the little fire place, wondering how fitting it felt to be drawn in by fire after detesting its symbolic presence. I no longer felt those emotions of resentment of Sable, but now felt intrigued, delighted, and ever so desiring to see him again each month—especially now that eating with him was evolving into something more.

  “So! Fish and maybe some bread,” I said while looking up at Sable who stood by my side, grinning widely as he seemed happy as well with our new development. “Do you have any other future requests I should prepare for?”

  Sable’s eyes glanced over at me, and a smile crossed his warm face, but he then quickly looked away.

  “Not yet,” he quietly said, but his grin only grew. “But, I’ll think of something.”

  “Alright—so, then, until next full moon.”

  “Thanks for teaching me how to build a fire.”

  “Yeah, that was easy—thanks for the fish. Glad we could cook something together for the first time.”

  “Me too.” I quickly grabbed my basket, swung it over, and then looked up at Sable, slightly anticipating a hug goodbye, but he kept his eyes staring at the fire-pit we had just arranged while crossing his arms, expressing deep pondering.

  “Well—till next full moon,” I reiterated, and he finally turned at looked at me while I hesitated.

  “Until then,” he replied, then slightly stepped closer, and I swung my arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. I listened to his heart steadily beat, and wondered if it would always be a soothing sound, like music to my ears.

  Then, as Sable whispered goodbye, I distinctly heard him inhale rather deeply while he rested his nose on the top of my head.

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J1DAmmROUX8