Page 52 of Tharn's Hunt
I offer her the last of the water. She refuses, gesturing for me to drink. Her stubbornness burns bright.
I growl low in my throat and press the pouch firmly to her lips. She drinks, draining it. It is not enough.
She needs more water. Now. I must leave her to find it.
I scan our surroundings, searching for any sign of moisture. The ravine floor below might offer better chances. Water often finds the lowest point, and the shade of the ravine walls would protect any seeps from Ain's evaporating light.
But reaching the floor means leaving Jah-kee alone, exposed on the ridge. The thought makes my dra-kir twist painfully.
There is no choice. She needs water. I must find it.
I help her move to the shade of a rock outcropping, gesturing for her to stay put while I search. She frowns, her brow furrowing.
"Where are you going?" she vocalizes. She tries to sit up. "Tharn, please, don't leave me here."
The distress in her tone is clear. I place my claw over hers, rumbling softly in reassurance. I point to the ravine, then mime drinking.
Her eyes widen in understanding, but she shakes her head. "I'll come with you."
She tries to stand, but her legs wobble dangerously. I push her gently back down, my expression firm. She cannot make the climb down the ravine wall in her current state. She would fall. She would die.
"Fine," she mutters, crossing her arms across her chest. "But hurry back. I don't want to be shadow creature bait."
I rumble again, this time with a note of promise. I will return. She will be safe.
I move quickly to the edge of the ravine, seeking a path down its steep wall. The descent is treacherous, loose rock sliding beneath my feet, but I make my way down with the sure-footedness of a hunter born in the dust.
The floor of the ravine is cooler, sheltered from Ain's direct light by the high walls on either side. I move swiftly, scanning the base of the rock walls for any sign of moisture.
And there—a darker patch of sand near the base of the eastern wall. I approach cautiously, hope rising in my chest. Yes. A small seep of water trickles from a crack in the rock, forming a tiny pool no larger than my claw before disappearing back into the dust.
It's not much, but it's enough. Enough to fill our waterskin, enough to cool Jah-kee's overheated skin, enough to keep her alive until we reach the next water source.
I fill the pouch carefully, making sure to capture every precious drop.
The climb back up the ravine wall is harder, hampered by my need to keep the waterskin secure, but the thought of Jah-kee waiting above drives me onward.
When I crest the ridge, my dra-kir pulses with relief at the sight of her still sitting where I left her. Her head rests against the rock, eyes closed, face turned away from the sky. For a terrifying moment, I fear she has fallen unconscious.
But at my approach, her eyes flutter open, finding mine immediately.
"You found water," she breathes, her gaze fixing on the pouch in my hands.
I kneel beside her, offering it immediately. She drinks greedily, her movements clumsy with exhaustion. Water spillsdown her chin, dampening the front of her hide-covering, but she doesn't seem to notice or care.
When she's drunk her fill, she sighs, eyes closing in obvious relief.
"That feels amazing," she murmurs, resting back against the stone. But the fire in her skin still burns.
I look at the waterskin. Then at my claw.
To waste even a single drop on the dust is a deep offense. Water is life, meant only for the throat, to sustain the body from within. What I am about to do… it is wrong. A hunter does not waste.
But the heat from her skin is a silent scream, and it overrides every law I have ever known.
With a resolve that feels like a betrayal of my kind, I pour a small amount of the precious water into my palm. Before I can second-guess the waste, I press my wet claw to Jah-kee’s brow.
She sighs, a deep, shuddering sound of pure relief, her body leaning into my touch. The simple sound shatters something inside me.
