Page 14 of Loving Graystoke's Heir

His smile was well worth the effort. “And you, Miss. You are most welcome. I wish you well.”

* * *

Donal felt his skin pull and stretch over his muscles. He had accepted the offer of a mosquito net from the Bandile, but he had no real need for it. The women would have the tents, and he would pass the evening in his own way, under the stars.

Their evening meal had been a somber affair. They had traveled many miles, following the well-worn roads that the safari companies followed over and over, but they had also kept watch for the tracks that ventured off the roads.

There were few of those, thankfully. Ever since the Bandile had begun their efforts years before, wanton poaching had all but disappeared. Those men, and yes, some women, who had once littered the miles with carcasses and refuse had either given up their pursuits, or had found other means to procure their trophies.

He knew he couldn’t stop all of the illegal poaching, or the trophy hunters determined to experience a hunt in the wilds of Africa, but he could do his best and would continue to do so as long as there was breath in his body.

A soft shuffle of noise caught his attention. The catch and brush of leaves and limbs in the shadows were a familiar sound at times, but this close to the Bandile camp, Donal wasn’t used to the sudden rush of sound.

The noises lower in the brush were full of boisterous energy, but slower and heavier higher up in the lush vegetation.

With a smile he sat still at the edge of the temporary over-night camp and waited.

The first visitor that entered his peripheral vision was magnificent. The female gorilla was beyond her adolescent years and had raised three of her own babies before she moved to this area of the park.

Donal didn’t want to rush her by looking in her direction. She was likely to take a playful swing in his direction. She may not be a male, but she had some physical behaviors that were seen in wild males. Her mother had long ago given up trying to correct her odd behavior, instead, pointing to him or the girl’s father as the guilty parties.

When she continued to sit in silence, Donal mirrored her activity until a frantic crash of limbs and leaves between them produced youthful gorillas acting very much like their human contemporaries. At two years old, they were more than a handful and knew how loved and valued they were among their own.

And Donal was one of their own.

As soon as the two noticed that Donal was near, they stopped wrestling with each other and began to climb.

He had no idea which one had laid their head on top of his own and which one had to be satisfied with slipping off his shoulder and wrapping long, gangly arms around his neck.

It didn’t really matter to him. He had a hand for each and was occupied for a moment as he tried to greet both of them at the same time and keep his fingers from their mouths. They might be youthful children by chronological age, but they were stronger than most humans. He knew they wouldn’t draw blood with their playful movements, but their jaws were strong enough to snap some of his finger bones if they got wrapped up in their fun.

Reaching down into part of himself that was mostly instinct and pure, unadulterated life, Donal shifted his body from that of a human to his other natural state, a gorilla. The shift barely required any effort after going through the physical change thousands of times.

He felt the satisfaction of his gorilla and the strength that flowed between them at their most elemental level. It was hard to remember that at one point in his life he thought he was going crazy because of the sensations that had twisted his body beneath his skin and the distinct personality that had begged for release.

Donal sat back and relaxed into the sensation of family.

The two toddlers had barely noticed the change. They were so used to his form shifting that they just continued to play. One minute they were atop a man, broader and taller than his original form, and then a moment later, they were swinging from a massive arm or climbing up and down the broad sweep of a silverback’s form.

Either way, the two were enjoying themselves.

They were too young for the dark cares that he sensed had brought his sister out of seclusion. She was not a fan of humans beyond Donal, and he didn’t blame her. Poachers had killed her mother and brought her into his life.

Donal listened into the conversation between the two, his gorilla and the female they both loved as family.

The recent uptick in poaching hadn’t gone unnoticed in the wild. In fact, the animals always knew before the humans. It was one of the reasons he never brought a tent along on his patrols with the Bandile. He needed the excuse to remain outside and with that proximity he could commune and converse with the very animals they were trying to protect.

Poachers, well-funded and well-armed.

Their vehicles lacked the prominently displayed logos of tour companies and the air around them was always inundated with the stench of wasted blood. Even from his place within the body of his gorilla, Donal could smell the evil that the two spoke of.

It made him sick, roiling his stomach, but he took deep, purposeful, indrawn breaths of the scent. He wasn’t much of a tracker in his human form, not the way he was as a gorilla, but his sense of smell was still many, many times better than that of a human.

As their conversation continued, Donal let his mind wander and slowly drift off to sleep. There was much that he would have to do as soon as dawn spilled out onto the ground, until then it was better for him to sleep.

But sleep offered him little in the way of rest.

Donal may have left the town and returned to the preserve ahead of time to escape Tamsin’s search, he still found her waiting for him in his dreams. There, he could not run from her warm and giving touch or the soft sighs from her lips. No, he may have only had a night physically in her arms, but he’d lived every night since with her memory and her love filling his soul.

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