Chapter Eighteen

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I am a bird. Free from all constraints, I go where the wind takes me. I glide over waving grasslands and forests, placid lakes and streams. Not even the mountains can hold me back. Still, freedom and the spectacular scenery are not enough to make me truly happy. The temperature at this altitude is freezing. So, what do I do?

I fly straight into the arms of the sun.

The warmth is divine. I snuggle closer, basking in the glow. Sunbeam kisses caress my face, neck, and shoulders. Delicious heat builds in my chest... and other places. Somehow, the sun knows this and responds accordingly. Its light travels over the swell of my breasts and across the flat expanse of my abdomen. When it gets exactly where I need it most, my senses go wild. I'm sent climbing, higher and higher, writhing and breathless.

And just as I am on the brink of exploding into a supernova, the sun vanishes. I am cast into the darkness alone.

With the sun no longer there to hold me up, gravity takes control. I go into a free fall, spinning 'round and 'round. Too late I realize my wings were only an illusion. I am a woman - not a bird. The ground rushes closer by the second. What had once looked so beautiful from this height now promises to be my demise.

There is no way to save myself. The sun abandoned me. What's the point in fighting the inevitable?

Spreading out my limbs, I plunge straight toward the earth...

A gentle scraping of wood greets my ears. The crash landing never occurs. My dream dissolves into mist. Peeking through slitted eyelids, I take note of the change in scenery. I am safe and sound in bed. Daylight streams through the smoke hole of the hut's roof, striking the empty spot next to me.

Memories of last night return unbidden. My nightmare. Ewar checking on me. He and I looking through the photos on my phone. Him falling asleep next to me.

But, where is Ewar now?

With the blanket still tucked around me, I sit up in bed. I find him in no time. He is across the room with his back turned, too busy with morning tasks to notice I am awake.

After stretching my arms above my head, I go behind the privacy curtain to relieve my bladder and straighten my rumpled clothing. Minutes later, I join Ewar by the fire. Together we dine on a breakfast of leftovers. It's our normal routine... except something feels off today. It is awfully quiet. Ewar usually strings together a few words of greeting when we first wake up. But this morning? He hasn't uttered a sound. His mouth opens only so he can shove in more food. It's like he forgot I'm here.

I guess it's up to me to break the ice.

"Uh. Did you sleep all right, Ewar?"

He stops chewing. Gulping down what's left in his mouth, it takes him quite a while to glance up at me. Upon finally making eye contact, he nods his head exactly one time in response to my question. Then, his gaze flicks away, as though it hurts him to look in my direction. His breakfast once again becomes the center of his universe.

I'm at a loss. Why is he acting so weird? He made no mention of my nightmare. He didn't acknowledge that we shared the same bed. Hell, he doesn't even want to look me in the eye this morning! He must be upset with me about something. That's the only explanation. But what did I do to him this morning that's so terrible? Nothing is coming to mind.

I go back further, analyzing all our interactions for the past twenty-four hours. The winter storm kept the two of us inside all day yesterday. He cut himself while shaving, triggering some past trauma of mine. He comforted me after I woke up from that nightmare about my dad. He fell asleep. We shared the bed. He was looking kind of cute passed out beside me, so I...

My appetite promptly vanishes.

Shit, shit, shit. I think I know what's going on. He must know about me touching him when he was asleep last night! Oh God. How did he find out?! Was he awake and just pretending to be asleep? Ugh. What he must think of me!

I take deep breaths to keep myself from hyperventilating. The tactic is only half successful. I begin grasping at straws to make myself feel better. I mean, it's not like I did anything too bad. I only fondled Ewar's face a little! That's nothing. Some less scrupulous individuals in my position would have done far worse things. Perverted things, even! I'm practically a saint in comparison.

But still, what I did was wrong and borderline creepy. No matter how you look at things, it was inappropriate of me to touch him in any way without his permission. He grew up in the fucking Ice Age and even he wouldn't dare do to me what I did to him. I should get on my knees and beg for his forgiveness.

There's just one little thing holding me back.

How do I address this sensitive subject without sounding like a big ol' pervert?

The meal goes on. I'm only half-heartedly eating as I try to think of a way out of the mess I created. At half past forever, our painfully awkward breakfast is interrupted.

"Assu!" calls someone from outside the door. Hello!

"Ehu," Ewar replies. Come in.

Arl enters the hut, bundled up in furs. There are no snowflakes in his hair. The winter storm must have died down while we were sleeping. He joins us at the fire to chat. I only understand every few words spoken between uncle and nephew. Snow. Food. Hunt. Toward the end of their discussion, Arl smiles at me. He wishes us a good day before making an exit.

Ewar turns to me abruptly, making it a point to stare directly into my eyes. "Arl say, men hunt." He holds up several fingers. "Men go many days."

I nod my head. The meat stored away is disappearing at an alarming rate. The occasional squirrel or fish won't be enough to keep thirty-plus people alive until the snow melts. Bigger game is needed to replenish the food supply, hence the men will be leaving soon. It's completely understandable why Arl wants to go hunting.

I bite down on my lip to keep from asking Ewar to not go.

Hunting during the winter months is especially dangerous. It gets unbearably cold at the drop of a hat. Plus, deep snow hinders movement. It would be physically impossible to outrun a crazed elk if it were to charge at you. A human would be gored or trampled to death.

I seem to be the only person worried about such an outcome. Everyone else is excited by the prospect of fresh meat. Supplies for the hunting trip are gathered. Weapons are inspected thoroughly. Ewar and Jas team up together in the middle of the hut to repair a bundle of spears. It appears they will be hard at work for the rest of the day.

I want to contribute in some way. Sadly, my skills are limited. The only thing I might be of help is to provide refreshments, so that is exactly what I do. I heat up water to a boil and add a few pinches of the herbal blend Ehmay put together. There are bits of pine needles, shaggy tree bark, and a few dried leaves of plants I cannot identify. I'm not sure of the health benefits of drinking this tea, but I do seem to recall that pine needles have a lot of vitamin c. I figure this tea has to be better than drinking plain water all the time.

The men are too focused on repairing the weapons to notice what I've been up to. The concoction puts off a clean, woodsy scent as it brews. I hand Ewar the first bowl of tea. He stops what he was doing and stares at my offering. Approximately a million years later, he looks up at me. One corner of his mouth curves upward, then the other.

"Thank you," he says.

All at once, the tension in the air evaporates. Ewar is back to his old self for the rest of the day. He looks at me, talks to me and everything. It's like this morning's awkwardness never happened.

That night, he returns to the mat on the floor. Once I am alone in the bed, I shake my head at myself. Whatever was bothering him earlier must not have had anything to do with me. I get way too paranoid sometimes.

For the next two days, the villagers prepare for the hunting trip. Most of the able-bodied men will be going - with the exception of two who will remain behind to protect the village. Arl asks for volunteers. No one steps forward. Hunting is like sports entertainment. To be stuck guarding the village would mean missing out on all the fun. Therefore, it is up to Arl to decide who will stay. The night before the trip, he makes the announcement.

Ichel and Ewar will guard the village.

I breathe a little easier from then on.

While I'm glad Ewar won't be leaving, I can't say the same about Ichel. It would have been nice to have a break from him. Ever since he saw me bring Afrin back to life, he has come to Ewar's house nearly every day to visit me. And when I say visit, I actually mean worship. A typical visit on his part includes all the normal stuff. Chanting, doing some cardio by prostrating himself on the ground, and occasionally offering a homemade gift to please the goddess he believes me to be. Ichel's last present was a clay statue that was supposed to be of me.

It was ninety percent boobs attached to a stick-thin body. This may explain why he stares at my chest so much.

Ewar has been surprisingly patient about Ichel showing up on his doorstep so often. He never once complained. Though, he did squish that clay boob statue underfoot the second after Ichel left the house. Was I upset? No. The destruction of the false idol was one hundred percent fine by me.

Alie gets teary-eyed when the men leave for the hunt. It's the first time since their marriage that she and Jas will be separated for longer than a few hours. I wrap an arm around her in a show of support. She smiles a little and reciprocates. She will be all right.

As soon as the hunting party is gone, Ewar and Ichel begin fulfilling their duties. Everything from checking on each family in the village to keeping guard at the village entrance falls on these two alone. The amount of work involved is just short of amazing. Ewar barely has time for himself. He comes home late each evening, eats a quick meal, and promptly falls asleep on the mat on the floor for a handful of hours. He is up and out the door long before I am awake.

It gets lonely at the hut all by myself. I end up hanging out at Ehmay's place more often than not. Alie is staying there until Jas returns home, so she and I get even more bonding time than usual. Unfortunately, she can only braid my hair so much before even she is bored to tears. Ehmay gets the bright idea to teach me the art of creating fabric using dried nettle fiber. There's nothing better to do, so I agree. Basically, there's a lot of braiding, knotting, and weaving. Days of practice later - and accidentally tangling my fingers in the mess of threads a few hundred times - I sort of get the hang of it.

Behold. My very first square of fabric!

It's smaller than the palm of my hand and ugly as sin. I'm gonna use it to blow my nose.

On the fourth day since the men left to go hunting, a change in the weather takes place. The morning air isn't quite as cold as it was the day before. The sun seems brighter too. The top layers of snow begin to melt.

I don't fall for it.

This has happened before. The temps warm up for a couple of days, giving the impression spring has arrived. Then a blizzard comes howling through the second you take off your coat. According to my stick-notch calendar, winter is no where near over.

On a more positive note, it's nice enough to go outside today without freezing your ass off. It's best to take advantage of this while you can. Ehmay organizes a group of women to forage in the woods, me included. We pass by a figure on top of an elderly resident's roof. My eyes widen. I recognize that gleam of dusty blond hair.

I duck down behind Alie, hoping Ichel won't notice me.

With so much work to do around the village, Ichel hasn't had any time to stop by Ewar's hut to worship at my feet. Not having to deal with him every single day has been a relief. But hiding behind Alie presents a problem. She is a tiny woman, much shorter than I am. Using her as a human shield would be like a wooly mammoth trying to camouflage itself behind ankle-high grass. In layman's terms, it's a lost cause.

Ichel spots me right away. He abandons the roof repair project, almost breaking his neck when he flops down without the benefit of a ladder. He rushes over to me and takes on the persona of a puppy whose owner just walked through the door.

This is getting ridiculous. I've told the guy a thousand times I'm not Damara, yet he keeps on doing this shit.

His greeting out of the way, Ichel drops to his knees to begin prayer services. He has a lot to say this morning. Here is the rough translation.

"Blah blah, Damara! Blah blah, Bella! Blah, blah, blah..."

I've become an expert at tuning him out. It's the only way to preserve my sanity.

Ichel packed a week's worth of worship in this one session. It's delaying our foraging expedition. The ladies standing around go from slightly amused to seriously annoyed. And his wife looks ready to dismember him, starting at his manhood. I better send him on his way before blood is shed. I wonder if there's a way to distract him? Like, waving a stick around and telling him to go fetch.

"All right, Ichel," I groan as he kneels at my feet. "I've been worshipped enough for today. You better save some of that groveling for tomorrow. So, go. Leave. Arha."

I used a word from his language. It means something similar to please move out of the way. It falls on deaf ears. I'm at the point where strangling Ichel sounds like a good option. Lucky for him, Ehmay steps in as a mediator. Her stern, no-nonsense lecture penetrates Ichel's thick skull. He bows a few more times and - finally - leaves the area. Great! The only downside is that since her husband is unavailable, Essa has transferred her icy gaze to me.

Oh no. Anyway...

With Ichel out of our hair, the ladies resume the trek to the forest. First, we must pass through the village exit. This narrow point in the gorge is where Ewar has stationed himself. He's leaning against the stone wall, a spear positioned at his side. Alie pulls me over to him. He smiles a little at her enthusiasm. Then, his gaze drifts to the left, focusing on my face alone. It stays there an extended moment.

"Hullo," he says.

I return the greeting. Once again, he was up and out of the hut long before dawn. This is the first I've seen him since last night.

Alie bounces as she speaks. I can translate a small portion of her conversation.

"Tiya-wēs forest. Anzās sah pine nuts!"

A frown spreads across his face. "No. Tāru arha. Bella nūmān apidda."

Alie rolls her eyes dismissively and hooks her arm through mine. "You lahlahhiya mēkkies, Ewar."

She escorts me away before he can offer a reply.

Puzzled by their exchange, I look over my shoulder. Ewar remains stationed at the village entrance - and he doesn't look happy at all. His forehead is full of wrinkles, an expression he usually reserves for when he is especially anxious. But, what's there to worry about? All we're doing is foraging.

The villagers leave the protection of the gorge and divide themselves into two groups. The smaller group sticks close to the stream to gather water and search for food, like mussels and freshwater plants that have survived the frigid temperatures. The group I'm in crosses the stream thanks to some convenient stepping stones and penetrates deeper into the forest. The warmer-than-usual day has begun melting the topmost layers of snow, resulting in a dripping, watery mess. When it inevitably dips below freezing tonight, all that melted water is going to become rock-hard ice. It will cover every flat surface in the area. I'll be slipping with every step tomorrow - and probably today, as well. Even innocent-looking puddles are a danger to me.

I bet that was what bothered Ewar. He knows how accident-prone I am. My arms and legs will be so bruised by the end of the day, I'll look like a Smurf.

It takes quite some time to get where Ehmay wants us to go. We enter a section of wilderness I have never seen before. Old pine trees and leafless bramble bushes are the dominant species. Everyone, including the children, is tasked with searching for pine cones scattered above and below the snow. This whole experience is giving me strong Easter egg hunt vibes. Meanwhile, two elders bang the pine cones we have already collected against a large rock. Tiny, papery pods fly out with each strike. Those are the pine nuts Alie spoke of. The time-consuming job of shelling them will be saved for when we get back to the village.

We have gathered all the pine cones available by midday. The women revert to browsing for other edibles hiding within the forest, like fungus and termites scurrying underneath the bark of decaying trees. The younger children aren't skilled enough to help in this type of foraging. Naturally, they come flocking to me for entertainment. I split the group in half and declare a snowball war. It's a hit, pun intended. The children love the challenge of lobbing snowballs at their friends - and it has the added bonus of tiring them out. But little Yorie is proving to be a handful. In between battles, he finds random shit - acorns, pine needles, pebbles - and shoves it up his nostrils just for the hell of it.

Guess who has to fish it out? Me.

Yes, it is gross, but I shouldn't get too frustrated. The kid can't help himself. Little weirdos like him have popped up throughout history. If he lived in more modern times, Yorie would be the one eating paper paste in kindergarten.

After I extract an empty snail shell from Yorie's left nostril, Afrin comes skipping over.

"Uēzzi anda aus, Bella!" Come and see, Bella!

She guides me carefully through a patch of thick, thorny shrubbery. A small boulder lies half-buried in the snow. Afrin bends over to brush away the icy flakes, revealing a small hole at the base of the stone. Her grin is infectious as she proudly shows off her find. Tiny claw marks are along the mouth of the hole. An animal dug this at some point.

While I am looking it over, Afrin shoves her hand straight into the hole. I almost have a heart attack. I pull her hand out again. Whatever dug the hole could still be living in its subterranean lair, poised to bite any intruder.

My little friend is visibly disappointed. She wanted to investigate further. Her big eyes and pouting lips do a number on me. What can you do against such a sad face? You find a compromise, that's what.

A long stick works in place of a hand. The hole isn't too deep. Only half of the stick is in there when we hit the bottom. As we wiggle it around, the stick meets resistance. Clattering noises can be heard, like marbles in a bag.

"That's weird," I mumble to myself. "I think there's something down there."

Risking a few fingers just to assuage my curiosity would be a bad idea. Instead, I tie a piece of fabric at the end of the stick, forming a rudimentary net. Afrin claps her hands at my ingenuity. Down it goes into the hole. I do a couple of sweeping motions in there and scoop out the mysterious clanking objects.

She and I burst into delighted giggles.

We found a squirrel's forgotten stash of nuts! There are maple seeds, hazelnuts, pine nuts, and enough acorns to plant an entire forest. These will be a useful addition to our food supply.

After making sure there are no creepy crawlies in the dark hole, we work together to get out as many of the seeds and nuts as possible. Afrin and I divide the spoils into two baskets. She carries one and I the other. We make our way through the shrubbery to where many of the villagers are gathered.

"Assu, everyone," I greet cheerfully, incorporating both English and their language. "Look what Afrin found-"

Something slaps my face, hard.

A flash of light temporarily blinds me. The stinging pain leaves me stunned and confused. My basket falls. Everything inside tumbles to the ground. I touch my cheek by instinct. It has been sliced open, drawing a line of blood.

Essa's cackling laughter is the only sound I hear.

My vision clears. Essa stands to my right, smirking at me. The situation becomes obvious. I was walking along, minding my own business, when she bent back a thorny limb so it would smack me in the face.

What a low-down, dirty trick.

My hands ball into fists. I think it's time for Essa to learn a valuable life lesson. You don't mess with a girl whose father insisted she take self-defense classes all through high school.

I stalk toward her. She continues laughing, unaware of the trouble she is in. We are both so consumed by our mutual dislike, we don't notice the third party joining us.

Oza shoves Essa backward several steps and lets rip a rapid-fire scolding. Essa gradually sinks in submission. At the end of Oza's tirade, she points at what was spilled and then jabs a finger into Essa's chest. "Kinun!" Now!

Essa wastes no time. She's down on the ground, picking up every single item that I dropped due to her cruel prank. Oza - arms crossed and tapping a foot - stays to supervise.

I'm starting to really like Oza. Aside from our earlier misunderstanding, she is good people. But to be honest, I sort of wish she had let me fight my own battle. I think Essa got off too easy. She needs at least one good punch to her pretty face. A black eye would be a nifty reminder to leave me the hell alone from now on.

Essa scurries around on hands and knees to clean up the mess she caused. Nearly all the nuts and seeds are returned to my basket. She's reaching for a walnut that rolled underneath a bush when a weird huffing sound interrupts.

Hurg. Hurg. Hurrrrggg.

For a long moment, every soul in the vicinity freezes.

Essa is the first to recover. Wide-eyed, she shoves the basket into my arms and takes off into the forest without saying a word. Several other people abandon everything they had spent the day gathering and follow after her. Mothers yank up their young children and flee. Oza grabs her two kids by their arms and begins dragging them away. However, she comes to an abrupt halt after a couple of steps. She turns, looking me dead in the eyes.

"Sandas!" she whispers urgently. Then, she and her children vanish into a thicket of trees.

After she is gone, I continue to stand there. "Sandas?" I squint as I repeat the word, hoping to decipher the meaning.

It's no use. I never heard the word sandas before.

I snap out of my thoughts and look around. Everyone is rushing off in different directions. I am not familiar with this section of the forest. I have no idea where to go, who to follow, or what might be going on. I'm hopelessly lost in more ways than one.

Alie, who had been foraging with Ehmay in a nearby location, comes to the rescue. She snatches my hand and says one word exactly.

"HUWĀ!"

Oh. Well, I know what this one means.

RUN!

Alie leads me zigzagging through the woods. She keeps looking over her shoulder and silently encouraging me to move faster. Only occasionally does she stop to get her bearings. I honestly don't see how she knows which direction we should go. To my eyes, this is an endless maze of trees.

My leg muscles are on fire by the time we arrive at the stream. I don't recognize this section. It is an untamed jungle compared to where we usually cross. The water here is deeper, and there are no convenient stones to act as a bridge. This means we must ford through the icy water. We don't stop to take off our shoes or leggings. Everything below our knees gets soaked. We are both out of breath and on the verge of collapse when we make it to the opposite bank. Still, Alie won't allow us to rest. She pulls me along, much like Oza did with her children.

We travel a few steps into the underbrush when a large object bursts out from behind a hedgerow of trees. Alie yelps.

It is only Ewar.

There are no smiles on his face or words of greeting from his lips. He holds his spear as though he might need to use it at any given moment. His narrowed eyes move from side to side, scanning the area around us continuously.

Alie points frantically behind us. "Apēdanda! Apēdanda!" That way! That way!

He gives a curt nod and jogs in the direction she indicated.

Alie tugs my hand. She and I are running again. We don't slow down, not even when the safety of the gorge comes into view. The village is in chaos. Old and young are darting around in panic. Some of the women have armed themselves. Old man Bannar wields a weapon too, but he looks too frail to use it effectively.

Ehmay yells Alie's name, relief evident in her voice. I'm somewhat surprised when she gathers her daughter and me into a hug. The affectionate gesture is brief. She releases us and points at her home. She wants us to go inside. We do so without argument.

Alie and I aren't the only ones taking cover in the leader's hut. There's Oza, Afrin, and Enja huddled together on top of one of the beds. Essa and her sister Len are cowering on the opposite end. Several other people are standing around too, shivering and hushing their children.

Ehmay closes the door flap and secures it with a knot. Turning around, she observes her house guests for a span of only seconds. Her head is held high, but her lips are thin. Like a sergeant preparing for attack, she begins doling out supplies and orders. Alie and I are instructed to remove our wet clothing and replace them with something dry. Weapons are distributed to the adults. I am given something resembling a long baseball bat. It feels unwieldy in my hands. I would need to be several sizes taller and stronger to use this weapon with any accuracy. The same goes for many of the other women. For example, Alie can barely hold her stone axe without tipping over. On the other hand, Oza has a lightweight spear. But her children are clinging to her, making it difficult for her to hold her weapon.

What - or who - are we supposed to be arming ourselves against?

The faces of Ora and the other Soul Eaters flash through my mind. Moments later, I shake the thought from my head. It can't be them. Someone would have mentioned their name if the Soul Eaters were involved.

A thunderous roar silences the room. Essa hugs her sister tighter. The children whimper, some attempting to hide behind their equally frightened mothers.

Then, comes a vastly different sound.

Ahh-rgg!

A scream. A cry of unspeakable agony that was cut too soon.

It was distinctly human.

Did someone just die? Who could it have been? Bannar? One of the children? Who?!

I untie one of the knots of the door flap and peek outside. The village looks empty. Everyone has already taken refuge in their homes. This doesn't comfort me much. The "doors" around here are made from animal hide. They are no better than thick curtains. With very little extra effort, you could push your way inside whatever hut you pleased.

Hurg. Hurg.

The narrow gorge amplifies the huffing noise. It's the same one we heard in the forest.

How can the unknown sound so unnerving?

Movement catches my attention. A four-legged beast strolls through the unguarded village entrance. With a feline gait, it turns its head, from one side to the other, to sniff the air.

I drop the curtain as though it's on fire. I don't fucking believe this. The cave lion recreation on display at Alistair's museum... It's like it came to life and tracked me down!

With shaking hands, I peek outside again. I presume this is sandas, their word for cave lion. The animal walks slowly, cautiously. You can see it is a gifted hunter, with powerful limbs and sharp eyes. Thick, tawny fur protects it from frigid temperatures. It has no mane of the type usually associated with lions. But it doesn't need any mane to look intimidating. This thing is huge. It could kick an African lion's ass no problem.

It stops to investigate the central fire pit, giving me a better view. My stomach turns. Blood coats the lion's muzzle, staining its jagged teeth.

All at once, the pieces fit together. Ewar rushing off in search of the beast, armed with his spear. The agonized human scream right before the lion entered the village. It can mean only one thing.

Ewar confronted this monster. He lost the fight.

He is dead.

The realization drops like an anvil. I grab hold of the door frame to keep from collapsing. No... not him! He was so good, so deserving of a long, happy life. For it to have been taken from him at such a young age is heartbreaking.

It's a blow I won't ever recover from.

The more I dwell on his tragic fate, the quicker my sorrow transforms into something else. Blind rage clouds my every thought. First, it was my dad. Now, Ewar. Both were taken too soon and in the line of duty. Charlie's killer was caught and thrown into prison to rot forever, out of my reach for further revenge. But Ewar's killer is right here. That lion is practically begging me to send it to the hell where it belongs.

I turn away from the door to scan the room. The people hiding within this hut have no idea what I have learned or what I plan to do. My gaze lands on the best weapon. It leans against the wall next to Oza. She is too busy rocking Afrin like a baby to notice when I do a switcheroo. I replace my basic club with her fancy, aerodynamic javelin. It features a razor-sharp point and beautiful symbols engraved on the wooden shaft. If I'm going to risk it all fighting an Ice Age monster, I might as well do it with style.

I undo the ties of the door flap. Too late, Alie sees what I am up to.

"Bella, natta!" Bella, no!

I ignore her cry and continue with the plan. Hopefully, Ehmay will keep her from coming after me. No one else should put themselves at risk.

My breathing accelerates once I step into the daylight. I am outside and completely exposed. In a stroke of luck, the lion is distracted. It paws at a burnt bone in the communal fire pit, unaware of my presence. As I inch closer, I notice the lion's ribs are protruding. It's been a harsh winter. I suppose it came here looking for an easy meal. But it wasn't as "easy" as it had expected. There is a puncture wound on its shoulder blade. This lion was injured recently.

Looks like Ewar didn't go down without a fight. Good for him. And if my crazy scheme works out as intended, I'll be the one to finish what he started.

I wipe the tears welling in my eyes and tighten my grip on the weapon. I've never hunted in all my life. What should I do? This javelin was meant for throwing, but I doubt I am capable of throwing it far enough to hit the son of a bitch. It's probably best if I just stab with it. But where to aim? The legs? The head?

No, I should go for the heart. It should know what real pain feels like.

This is a solid plan... until a pebble scrapes underfoot. It's a negligible sound. You wouldn't think twice about it normally. But on this day, at this moment, I might as well have yelled to the lion that I was creeping up behind it.

It whirls around. Golden eyes latch onto my face and size me up in almost no time. It snarls, displaying a set of teeth longer than my fingers.

My pulse races in my ears. It's now or never. A surge of adrenaline mixed liberally with hatred powers me forward. I aim for the eyes, the weak point. Although my attack is unexpected, the lion turns its head at the last instant. The end of the spear grazes underneath where I intended.

The outraged roar deafens me.

An enormous paw whips out, too quick for me to avoid. Claws rip across my chest, destroying several layers of clothing. If I hadn't been wearing thick winter coats, I would have been gravely injured.

The force knocks me to the ground. Breathing heavily, I search for my weapon. Fuck. It was launched out of my reach during the tumble. I would have to make a run for it just to get it back - and there's no chance of me outrunning an animal built for chasing down prey.

All hope of killing the lion is gone in the blink of an eye. If I am lucky, death will come quickly.

The injury I inflicted is minimal, barely a scrape. The lion recovers and stalks closer, its head hung low. I am defenseless, and the beast seems to know. Its tail stiffens, like a house cat with a cornered mouse. My breathing stops but my heart pounds like a jackhammer. The lion inhales deeply, probably savoring the potent scent of fear in the air.

Don't drag this out, you motherfucker. Hurry up and get it over with. Take me out of my misery, already!

The lion stops at my sprawled feet and gives a throaty growl. It won't be much longer before it attacks. Shaking like a leaf, I continue staring it down. I hope the asshole chokes on my bones. It lowers its front quarters, preparing to pounce. I have already accepted the inevitable.

So when a spear comes flying out of nowhere, both of us are taken off guard.

The tip buried itself deep within the lion's flank. Blood gushes from the wound. The lion roars. I am forgotten. It spins around to confront a new adversary.

Ewar.

I stare open-mouthed. This can't be real. I pinch my arm as hard as I can. Ouch! Yep, I felt it. This must mean I'm not dead. I'm not in the afterlife - and neither is Ewar.

He is alive!

My celebration lasts all of a nanosecond. Ewar isn't out of the woods yet. This lion is super pissed, which I suppose is understandable since a spear is sticking out of it. It readies itself to attack. Ewar, now weaponless, raises his hands high and waves them around.

"Bah!" he shouts at the top of his lungs.

The lion backs away a step to regroup. Ewar looks bigger, and the sounds he makes are loud and threatening. This is a perfect opportunity for me. While he distracts the feline fuckface, I crawl over to the javelin laying on the ground.

It is undamaged.

Taking a deep breath, I rise up on two feet and take stock of the situation. Ewar is doing an admirable job of intimidating the lion, but how long will it work before something goes wrong? There is no time to spare. I have to do something to help!

Gritting my teeth, I point the business end of the javelin at the enemy and charge like my life depends on it. The momentum drives the flint blade through the lion's thick fur and flesh. I hit something hard - maybe the spine. The lion's startled roar comes out as a moan. It stumbles a couple of steps, sways, then collapses. The lower half of its body lies there unmoving, paralyzed.

This apex predator won't be walking ever again.

Ewar rushes up - dodging the lion's pitiful front paw swipe - and seizes his spear still embedded in the animal's flank. He stabs over and over again, half mad with rage.

He stops only when the lion's chest ceases movement.

Ewar closes his eyes in exhaustion. The spear falls from his grip and clatters at his feet. The lion is dead. The living nightmare is over. But when he reopens his eyes, he does not look relieved. There is a wildness to his gaze I have never seen before.

He marches up and grabs me by my upper arms. "Why?" He shakes me a little and raises his voice. "Why?!"

I blink at him, unable to grasp what has him acting this way. "W-what? I don't understand..."

His scowl deepens. "Why no stay with Alie?!"

Things begin making more sense. He is upset because he believes I should have stayed with Alie and the other women. He thinks I shouldn't have fought the lion.

His misplaced anger triggers my bitch-mode.

I push him off me, heaving with indignation. "What was I supposed to do?! Stay inside the hut with the others until the sandas came to eat us all?" Suddenly, all my emotions hit me at once. Anger, fear, grief. "I was afraid. Everybody was. And you weren't anywhere around, Ewar. There was a scream..." I pound my fists into his chest with each additional word I say. "I thought you were dead, you idiot. Dead!"

He captures my fists in a hold I cannot break. It forces me to stay still. I look up at him, ready to yell in his face. But the white-hot anger in his gaze has faded. Does he fucking see the situation clearly now? I didn't go racing after the lion for shits and giggles. It was for self-preservation.

Ok, that's a lie. It was mostly for revenge.

He releases a breath, looking far older than his years. "Ichel dead."

I gasp. "No! Ichel is dead?"

"Yes."

An avalanche of guilt sweeps over me. I had forgotten about Ichel during the chaos. He fought the lion by himself and lost. Not Ewar. I shouldn't be grateful that fate played out this way. One life was taken in exchange for the other.

But I am.

I cover my face, tears leaking through my fingers. Ewar draws me closer, settling my head on his shoulder. In a way, it reminds me of the hugs my father would give. Tight enough to comfort, but loose enough that you could pull away any time you wanted.

I cling tighter, afraid of what might happen if I were to let go.

00000000000000000000

A/N-

In the author notes a couple of chapters back, I did a social experiment. You guys had the option of practicing mouth-to-mouth on Ewar, Bella, or Ichel/Mike. No one wanted Ichel. Some folks were quite vocal in their dislike of him.

So, he had to die.

Lol, I'm kidding. Prehistoric times were dangerous, and life expectancy was terrible. Some researchers think it wasn't common for Stone Age people to live beyond their thirtieth birthday until around 30,000 years ago. In short, many people in the distant past died young. Diseases, childbirth, accidents, animal attacks... you name it, they died from it. Ichel was always meant to be the sacrificial lamb in this story. (The lion did not fall in love with the lamb this time.) At least he went out fighting like a hero, amirite? As a side note, some sources estimate the cave lion went extinct somewhere around 13,000 years ago. I like to imagine that this one was among the last to roam the earth.

Email notifications are on the fritz (among other things). I appreciate so much everyone who has fought the FFN glitches and continued to read. You are brave fanfiction warriors. Ewar is getting ready to draw mystic symbols of awesomeness across all of your faces.

Thanks for reading. And anyone who can guess what was going on with Ewar in the beginning of this chapter gets extra cool points. Good luck! :-)