* *
The young human girl was there when he awoke. Her name was Lyuba, and she had volunteered to minister to the ailing reyaqc.
“It was I who discovered you,” she said with a playful smile. “You seemed as dead, but Jisch concluded you could yet be saved.” She dipped a rough cloth in a basin of water, withdrew it, and squeezed the excess fluid away. “Such a handsome one. It would have been a shame to lose you.”
“Dol…naraq,” muttered Tresset. “Have you found Dolnaraq?”
The girl seemed perplexed. “Dolnaraq? Is this another of your kind? Is he of your pack?”
“He is…my pack.”
Lyuba nodded and patted Tresset’s forehead with the damp cloth. “This one, we have not seen. Was he with you before you fell ill?”
Tresset shook his head. Already the human stench threatened to overcome him. “No. Have not seen in…long while. Lost. Separated.”
Lyuba pushed a wavy lock from before her deep brown eyes. “I will ask Jisch and the others of your kind. If there is word of this Dolnaraq, I will let you know.”
With that, she leaned forward, kissing him lightly on the forehead. Revulsion welled up within him as she rose, saying, “Now, rest, precious one. Rest and recover.”
* * * *
Lyuba became Tresset’s constant companion. Though her presence repulsed him, he found a certain comfort in her tender care, in her willingness to nurse him back to health. He was weak, much weaker than he first realized. And only after two weeks with the gypsy clan did he acknowledge how close to death he had come. The girl, though, concerned him at a deeper level. She was attracted to him. Tresset could tell this, not only by her constant and nonsensical attentions toward him, but also by the distinct odor of her sex as she became aroused. True, some reyaqc coupled with humans. The practice was not common, but neither was it forbidden. Offspring could not be produced, and for some reason this attracted certain human females. Still, Tresset wanted nothing of the humans, least of all further intimacies beyond the already degrading need for essence. And thus, he did his best to avoid the girl whenever he sensed the scent of her arousal on the evening breeze.
“You brood,” said Lyuba one day as she came upon Tresset sitting atop a large boulder and staring out over the green expanse.
Tresset nodded and grunted. He’d hoped to avoid her by venturing away from the camp.
“I’m not quite as agile as you. May I have a hand up?”
The girl stood at the base of the stone, smiling up at him as she extended her hand. Tresset silently cursed as he reached down to draw her up. Could he never be rid of this one?
Lyuba scrambled up the rock and then seated herself to Tresset’s right, nearly so close as to touch him, but not quite. “It’s a nice view,” she offered.
“I suppose,” agreed the reyaqc.
“I paint landscapes. I think I’ll paint this one. It’s pretty.”
Tresset did not respond.
“You’re a quiet one.”
Tresset glanced at her, still annoyed at the intrusion. “I have nothing to say.”
“I was engaged to be married, you know. But the boy’s family ran into problems with a town official. There was some trouble. It seemed best that they separate from the clan in order that suspicion not fall over our entire community.”
Tresset snorted. “Gypsies always have trouble with law. What’s so different about this one?”
Lyuba stiffened, perhaps taking some offence. “The Romani are good people, only misunderstood—like the reyaqc.”
“You are not like the reyaqc.”
The girl shrugged. “Maybe no. Maybe yes. And you, do you have a mate?”
“The reyaqc do not mate for life. It is…a different arrangement.”
“But, have you mated? Is there a reyaqc woman who bares you children?”
Tresset rose. He’d grown tired of the conversation. “No woman. No children. My pack was decimated when I was a pup. Only Dolnaraq and I remain.” With that he leaped from the stone
The young human girl was there when he awoke. Her name was Lyuba, and she had volunteered to minister to the ailing reyaqc.
“It was I who discovered you,” she said with a playful smile. “You seemed as dead, but Jisch concluded you could yet be saved.” She dipped a rough cloth in a basin of water, withdrew it, and squeezed the excess fluid away. “Such a handsome one. It would have been a shame to lose you.”
“Dol…naraq,” muttered Tresset. “Have you found Dolnaraq?”
The girl seemed perplexed. “Dolnaraq? Is this another of your kind? Is he of your pack?”
“He is…my pack.”
Lyuba nodded and patted Tresset’s forehead with the damp cloth. “This one, we have not seen. Was he with you before you fell ill?”
Tresset shook his head. Already the human stench threatened to overcome him. “No. Have not seen in…long while. Lost. Separated.”
Lyuba pushed a wavy lock from before her deep brown eyes. “I will ask Jisch and the others of your kind. If there is word of this Dolnaraq, I will let you know.”
With that, she leaned forward, kissing him lightly on the forehead. Revulsion welled up within him as she rose, saying, “Now, rest, precious one. Rest and recover.”
* * * *
Lyuba became Tresset’s constant companion. Though her presence repulsed him, he found a certain comfort in her tender care, in her willingness to nurse him back to health. He was weak, much weaker than he first realized. And only after two weeks with the gypsy clan did he acknowledge how close to death he had come. The girl, though, concerned him at a deeper level. She was attracted to him. Tresset could tell this, not only by her constant and nonsensical attentions toward him, but also by the distinct odor of her sex as she became aroused. True, some reyaqc coupled with humans. The practice was not common, but neither was it forbidden. Offspring could not be produced, and for some reason this attracted certain human females. Still, Tresset wanted nothing of the humans, least of all further intimacies beyond the already degrading need for essence. And thus, he did his best to avoid the girl whenever he sensed the scent of her arousal on the evening breeze.
“You brood,” said Lyuba one day as she came upon Tresset sitting atop a large boulder and staring out over the green expanse.
Tresset nodded and grunted. He’d hoped to avoid her by venturing away from the camp.
“I’m not quite as agile as you. May I have a hand up?”
The girl stood at the base of the stone, smiling up at him as she extended her hand. Tresset silently cursed as he reached down to draw her up. Could he never be rid of this one?
Lyuba scrambled up the rock and then seated herself to Tresset’s right, nearly so close as to touch him, but not quite. “It’s a nice view,” she offered.
“I suppose,” agreed the reyaqc.
“I paint landscapes. I think I’ll paint this one. It’s pretty.”
Tresset did not respond.
“You’re a quiet one.”
Tresset glanced at her, still annoyed at the intrusion. “I have nothing to say.”
“I was engaged to be married, you know. But the boy’s family ran into problems with a town official. There was some trouble. It seemed best that they separate from the clan in order that suspicion not fall over our entire community.”
Tresset snorted. “Gypsies always have trouble with law. What’s so different about this one?”
Lyuba stiffened, perhaps taking some offence. “The Romani are good people, only misunderstood—like the reyaqc.”
“You are not like the reyaqc.”
The girl shrugged. “Maybe no. Maybe yes. And you, do you have a mate?”
“The reyaqc do not mate for life. It is…a different arrangement.”
“But, have you mated? Is there a reyaqc woman who bares you children?”
Tresset rose. He’d grown tired of the conversation. “No woman. No children. My pack was decimated when I was a pup. Only Dolnaraq and I remain.” With that he leaped from the stone
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