Nyara woke to the sound of voices — low, steady, and too far away to make out the words. The air was cool, touched with the faint dampness of morning dew. She lay still for a moment, eyes half-closed, letting the new scents settle in her mind. Smoke from a dying fire. The faint musk of unfamiliar furs. The earthy tang of wet grass beneath the blanket.
Her ears twitched at the crunch of approaching footsteps.
"It's just me," came Luro's voice, quiet enough that it didn't carry far. He crouched down a few paces away, placing a small wooden plate on the grass. A strip of cooked meat rested beside a handful of berries — dark ones that shone in the early light.
She sat up slowly, her tail curling around her legs. "Why?" she asked, her voice rough from sleep.
His ears flicked. "You didn't eat last night."
Nyara hesitated, eyes flicking from the plate to his face. He kept his hands loose on his knees, making no move toward her. She remembered her mother's warning — males didn't touch unless there was need. Even young ones. The air between them felt like a line neither of them would cross.
She picked up a berry and bit into it, its tart juice flooding her mouth.
Luro shifted to sit cross-legged, glancing toward the camp. "You'll get used to it. The noise, the smells. First few days feel strange."
Nyara stayed quiet. She didn't want to admit how the crowded camp made her fur prickle.
He must have read her silence, because his tail flicked once. "My mother says it's like a river. Loud, fast, full of things you don't understand. But if you walk in slow, you learn where to step."
She chewed another berry, pretending not to be listening too closely.
A group passed by — two tall elk beastmen carrying bundles of cloth over their shoulders, followed by a younger one with folded wings strapped close to his back. One of the elk glanced at Nyara, his eyes curious but his steps unbroken.
Luro's gaze followed them before returning to her. "They'll be careful around you. Lone females always draw attention."
Nyara's ears twitched. "...Why?"
He blinked, surprised at the question. "Because it's the law. Females are to be protected. Not claimed unless they choose it." He hesitated. "But there are those who don't follow the law. That's why no one travels alone."
Nyara's claws dug lightly into the blanket. The memory of her mother's hurried touch, the bitter plants rubbed into her fur, rose sharply in her mind.
Luro didn't press her. He leaned back, letting the sun warm his fur. "There's a stream just outside camp. If you want, I can show you later. Fewer people there."
Nyara didn't answer right away. But after a moment, she gave the smallest of nods.