Page 6 of Red

Rager growled warily as he scented another triad moving in. He normally didn’t venture out of his territory into the mutual zone. He didn’t know what had possessed him to lead his triad there. All human trade routes were prohibited, and for good reason. Not only did huntsmen frequent them, but keeping distance from human settlements and routes had been part of the original agreements negotiated between their species when they came to settle among the humans. Keeping to the accords was something that all Ragoru agreed upon even as scattered as they were among the vast wildernesses. Although the trade route regions weren’t strictly off-limits and were open for triads to travel through, lingering too close to areas where humans may pass invited trouble.

Yet they had no choice. Female Ragoru were fewer in number and roamed over wide territories that often intersected those of many males. To make matters more complicated, it was always subject to shift and change. For a mature triad to find a mate often meant having to leave their own territory to search out a female. And for his triad, particularly, all of them were becoming discouraged after many moon cycles of not coming across an unmated female. Sometimes, Rager had thought he’d come across the scent of one only to be too late to win a female for their family. They were all frustrated with their lack of success.

Following such miserable fortune, coming across a broad-snouted rutter had seemed like an exceptional find, possibly an omen of positive change. All three of them had been excited to find the beast pawing at the ground. What Rager had not expected was that the object of its interest would be a small human. He’d been shocked when the small figure darted out from its hiding spot. And he hadn’t been the only one of his triad to notice, which had resulted in bringing the small creature to the ground.

Warol’s attack had initially been more reflex than anything else, but when it had attempted to escape, he’d jumped again with a playful spark Rager had not witnessed in the male in many revolutions. Rager had dropped down from his perch to watch in amusement as the tiny human attempted to evade Warol’s pursuit. Even Kyx, the youngest and most even-tempered in their number, had seemed inclined to join the play until they heard the howls.

To his left, Warol dropped his amused leer and stiffened as, just behind him, Kyx shifted and flattened his ears. Rager observed the human crouched down on the ground. It was small and seemingly harmless. It certainly didn’t seem to possess anything that could threaten them. Rather, it smelled strangely enticing. He felt a flash of pity for it. It was tiny, and Rager doubted it was fully grown, as it seemed much smaller than the humans he’d seen from a distance. Was it a youngling separated from its dam?

While most Ragoru did not attack humans, there had been some talk among the more vocal triads who disliked yielding to humans, whom they viewed as inferior beings. Some of that talk had disturbed him enough that Rager didn’t like the idea of abandoning a lone youngling to what could be torture and slow death carried out by a deviant triad. Perhaps it would be more merciful to kill it here? Kyx seemed to interpret his speculative gaze on the huddled offspring and let out a long, low whine in objection.

“We are not going to kill it, are we?” Kyx protested in Ragii.

Warol frowned and Rager saw what he suspected to be a sympathetic look cross the male’s face, but then he shook his head with a snarl. “What would you have us do, Kyx? Escort it to the human settlement and be set upon for our trouble?”

Kyx scowled, not so subtly inserting himself between the human and Warol. When the other male did not move to exert his dominance, his expression softened as he looked down at the huddled heap on the ground watching them from a wide-set pair of dark blue eyes. Like most humans, it was covered from head to toe in woven clothes styled in shades of browns and greens. Its hairless flesh seemed soft and particularly vulnerable. It was no wonder that Kyx felt protective toward it.

“It looks defenseless. It wouldn’t hurt to keep it with us for a time,” Kyx muttered, a hint of loneliness edging his tone.

Rager could understand that. Although a triad was never really alone, they were all very different. A mate was supposed to unite them and bring them together as a closer unit and provide them each with unique companionship. The younger male was desperate for company outside the other two parts of his triad.

Another howl rose, closer this time, and Rager made a snap decision. Reaching down, he plucked up the tiny human, drawing it close against his chest with all four arms, and took off running, his triad quick on his heels. Kyx had a strange bag clasped in his lower arms that could only have belonged to the female, and Warol broke his stride only long enough to scoop up the remains of their feast to carry with them.

They weren’t about to sacrifice any bit of their fortune to the rival triad.

Chapter

Four

The setting sun dyed the visible sky, glimpsed between breaks in the canopy, a vivid red. Warol shuddered with primal ecstasy as the burning hue brushed the sky as if bleeding its eternal life as it sank from the heavens.

Red.

His dam used to tell him that red was the color of life, sacred to all Ragoru. It was a sign of good omens, of plenty, as well as the beginnings and endings of life. Red things were coveted and desired to bring good fortune, and reddish-furred offspring were believed to be blessed by the gods.

Warol had spent his youth harvesting every red stone he found within the caverns of the earth, laying them out as gifts to the Mother Ewa and the dark fathers Efru, Zida, and Bayda. He filled their den with gleaming red shards when the coldest days of winter prompted them to light evening fires for extra warmth. He felt it weighed in their favor that their third bore a reddish cast. Yet he was still waiting for the blessings to come to their triad.

Adjusting his grip on the meat, he narrowed his eyes at the small figure huddled in Rager’s embrace. He did not know what to think of it. It was amusing, to be sure, but he didn’t understand why any of them felt so motivated to carry it along with them. It was not food. It was liable to distract them from searching for their mate. It was an inconvenience… and yet it stirred something protective within him.

The feeling as an odd one, especially since initially he’d been inclined to snap at their alpha when the male intruded upon his game. It was only just barely that he’d restrained himself. Even Warol couldn’t pinpoint what had come over him, and he had been relieved that their lead had either not noticed it or had decided to ignore it. But that didn’t explain his strange new feeling of protection and possessiveness that now occupied him whenever he looked upon it. And he did that more than he liked as they had fled to safer grounds.

Once Rager was comfortable that they’d put enough distance between themselves and the rival triad, he changed his trajectory, skimming along the edge of a cliff overlooking a wooded valley until they found themselves at the opening of one of the caves familiar to their triad.

Each triad stuck to their own routes and didn’t infringe on others as a matter of courtesy. The cave still contained lingering scents from their previous visit with no other trace odors from rivals. Warol tossed the rutter onto the floor near a fire pit they lit on colder nights and snorted at Kyx. The male had set the human’s bag down with such obvious care that Warol could not help scoffing at the folly of it.

“You are setting the bag down gently as if it were your rog,” he said with a sneer.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kyx huffed. “Just because it has no value to us does not mean it holds no value for the human.”

Warol grinned, his left foot pushing the bag. “And that is important to you—to keep the little human and all of its belongings safe from harm? We should have left it where we found it. Humans are not friends of the Ragoru.”

“There is always the potential,” Kyx objected. “Our ancestors tried, and would have succeeded, in making peace with their species if it weren’t for foul-tempered brutes like you. Ragoru like you, and that other triad we crossed paths with, make the humans fear us.”

Warol challenged the smaller male with a derisive snort. “Humans breed huntsmen among their own to kill us, or have you forgotten that? I suppose it is easy when they didn’t carve open your mother’s belly, killing both her and the young in her womb? Or, perhaps they didn’t skin your father and stretch his pelt before their village? I will never trust a human, not even a tiny soft one.”

Offering him nothing more than a mutinous glance, Kyx turned his back on him and settled to make a fire. Warol snorted again. They were brothers by their triad bond, but they clearly didn’t have the same experiences. Still, it didn’t take too much insight to know what Kyx was doing. He knew why his brother was busying himself with it though the temperatures were mild this evening—he didn’t want the little human to catch a chill. It sat shrinking back from their alpha, who all but ignored it as he shifted forward and pulled off a chunk of meat.

Sighing, Warol pushed himself up and returned to the carcass. Since they took in the human, the least they could do was feed it. He pulled off a tender chunk from the hindquarter and thrust it at the human. He watched with some amusement as it’s face went pale and then tinged with a peculiarly unsettling hue. Why wasn’t it eating? He leaned forward to prod it, but Kyx stormed up and pushed his arm away.

---