“What if I just stayed here?” she asked the night quietly. “Clean water. The firmest land I’ve ever seen; there is sand in the creek bottom, not muck. The hunting should be good. What do I need that I couldn’t find here?”
“Company?” Tats suggested from the darkness. She turned and saw him as a silhouette against the orange firelight. “Or have you had enough of people? Mind if I join you?”
She moved over on the log instead of answering him. She wasn’t sure what her answer would have been.
“By now, he would have had everyone up and jigging with him,” Tats said to the night.
She nodded silently. Tats reached over and picked up her hand. She let him. He handled it in the darkness, sweeping his thumb across her palm, counting her fingers with his. He ran his nails lightly over her claws. “Remember when you thought these were a bad thing to have?” he asked conversationally.
She drew her hand back into her lap, suddenly self-conscious. “I’m not sure I ever really thought that. They’ve always been useful to me. I just knew I’d have to live with everyone else thinking they’d limit me.”
“Yes, well, more than once on this expedition, I’ve wished I had claws like you.” Matter-of-factly, he recaptured her hand and warmed it between both of his. It felt good; she hadn’t known it ached until he gently rubbed it and soothed the ache away. Tension began to seep out of her body. He slid a little closer to her. “Give me your other hand,” he told her, and she complied without thinking about it. He held her hands in both of his, rubbing them gently.
For a time, they were silent. The noises from the bonfire came to them, and one of the dragons hooted in alarm about something, but it wasn’t Sintara, and she ignored it. When Tats put one of his arms across her shoulders and pulled her closer to lean on him, she allowed herself to do so. He rested his cheek on her hair. She wasn’t surprised when he ducked his head in to kiss her. It was easy to allow him to do that, easy to let the spreading warmth of sensation drive all thoughts from her mind.
The second time his hand brushed her breast, she knew it wasn’t an accident. Did she want to do this? Yes. She refused to think that it might lead to things she wasn’t ready to allow him. She could always say no if it came to that. She didn’t need to say it yet.
He kissed the side of her neck, her throat, and she leaned back, letting him. His mouth slid lower and suddenly a voice said, “Well, it appears a decision has been reached.”
They leaped apart, Tats coming to his feet and whirling to face Greft. His hands were already cocked into fists. “You spying sneak!” he hissed.
Greft laughed. “Turnabout is fair play. Ask Thymara.” He turned around, ignoring Tats’s physical challenge. “I’ll tell the others for you,” he offered. “I think they’ve a right to know.” He walked away.