Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 106646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
"Well?" A'tam is all excitement at the top of the pit. He holds a hand out to me, and I clutch the thing to me with one hand, placing my ash-covered other one in his. Since we've decided to dig pits, we've switched caves. Pak and Juth hide out in mine on bad weather nights, and I don't have the heart to kick them out. Instead, we've quietly moved to a cave in the mountains that has the bad luck of being too close to camp to be useful as a hunter cave, but a little too far out to be used as storage. It's got a trickle of running water and the back floor is sloped enough that it wasn't too difficult to build up a small, deep trench with loose rocks.
My mate hauls me up, careful not to tip over the rock “wall” we have on the edges of the pit. His arms immediately go around me, a look of anticipation on his face. "How did it turn out?"
I smile at him, so proud and full of emotion that I can hardly stand it. I hold the ugly-ass bowl out to him. It's covered in ash and soot (and I am, too) but he knows the significance of it.
A'tam sucks in a breath and takes it from my hand with a reverent motion. "It worked?"
"I think so," I tell him, sniffing. I swipe at my nose, as it runs when I get teary-eyed. The smell of ash gets in my nostrils, and I suspect I'm getting it everywhere. I don't care. I'm just so happy about my pot. I've taken to firing just one at a time because I don't want to ruin several days of work if the fire's wrong. And it's been wrong over and over and over again. But today? Today we just might be on to something.
He holds the little lopsided pot up and then thumps one of his claws on the edge. "Feels sturdy. Not like the others." He looks at me with an excited grin. "I think you have done it."
He hands it back to me, and as I take it, he absently wipes at my dirty face. I lift my chin so he can clean me off, because I love it when he takes care of me. A'tam is a very hover-y, attentive mate who fusses over me constantly, and I eat that shit up. "The real test will be if it holds some water," I tell him as he cleans my cheeks of ash. "It might not work."
"It will work," he tells me confidently. "Trust."
We build a fire at the entrance of the cave and place a tripod over it, melting snow in a pouch until we have lukewarm water. When the ugly little pot holds together, we try hot water next, using hot rocks in the pouch to inch the temperature up. The little pot gets hot, but there are zero leaks, and when the water cools down, I pour it out and run my hand along the inside of the pot, feeling for softness in the clay, or any new cracks.
I can't believe it. I've made a usable pot.
"I…guess it's a success." I keep staring at the darn thing, wondering if it's going to suddenly spring a leak on me. If it'll crumble to pieces and prove me wrong, and then I'll be back to square one again.
A'tam picks it up and carefully moves it to the side of the cave. Then, he turns and grabs me in a bear-hug, tackling me onto the floor and showering me with kisses. "You did it!"
I hug him tight, still finding it hard to believe that after months of hitting my head against the wall, I've finally done it. "It might not hold. We should keep testing it—"
He kisses me hard, silencing my protests. "Accept that it is a good pot, Br'chit. Accept that you have done a good job."
"Okay," I say softly, smiling up at him. "I want to try it again before we tell anyone about it, though." There's a few pots drying out off to one side, and once they're ready to be popped into the pit, we'll have to build things up and collect fuel and prep the pit. It's a lot of work, but I'm no longer dreading it. "Maybe two more runs before we tell anyone. Yeah, two might be safer."
A'tam pulls back, frowning at me. "Why wait? We should take the pot back to the village with us and show everyone." He presses a kiss to my knuckles. "I want them to see how clever my mate is."
His words make nervousness coil in my belly. I reach for the small, decorated stick I keep tied to my belt and hold it up. It's a smaller version of our safety sticks, and we've found it helpful for communicating when we know we can touch them at a moment's notice. It forces the other person to really pay attention to what the other is saying, and it's been amazing. "A'tam," I say calmly. "I feel that I'm not ready to share our secret work with the others just yet. It's important to me that it be perfect before we let everyone know."