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)
I can do better than this for her. I did not give any thought to what it would be like to live inside my hut with a mate. I simply wanted it to be up, so I could show off to the females—and one in particular—that A'tam had a hut ready for a mate. I have done wrong by her in many ways, I realize, just by being thoughtless. Perhaps if I think more, we can come to a happy place, her and I.
I straighten the furs, adding a few rolled up ones to make the nest more comfortable. As I do, I notice there is a satchel by the door to my hut. Curious, I open it…and see Br'sht's tunic inside. The bag is next to a roll of furs that I did not notice before. These are her things, I realize.
She is coming back tonight. She is going to live with me.
I look around my hut again, seeing all the flaws, and I wonder what I can fix before she returns. I move to the fire, stoking it higher, and put on tea. I want everything to be as welcoming as possible for my mate when she comes back. I do not want her to have a single reason to leave my side again. As I clean up, I see the secrets stick. I pick it up, and my first instinct is to toss it into the fire. It is nothing but trouble.
But then I pause.
And I get a new idea instead. If Br'chet wants us to be truthful, perhaps this can be used in a way I like, too.
31
BRIDGET
I hide out in my pottery cave, hoping that it will clear my mind, but it's futile. I'm too anxious to get much done. My cave is a mess—I'm pretty sure Pak and Juth dug through everything, looking for things to eat or steal. I can't be mad, because that's the life they've been taught, and they need things more than I do. I straighten up instead, building a fire and wetting half-made clay pots. I'm reluctant to dig into my work, because what if Juth and Pak come back? I wouldn't kick them out, not if they need shelter.
Maybe I need to find a new place to do my work.
It'd probably be smarter to set up in the longhouse than to hide out here in a cave…but everything in me rebels at the thought. I don't want everyone watching over my shoulder, hovering, waiting for me to fail so they can cluck their tongues over how long it takes for me to get it right. Just thinking about that makes me want to toss my clay entirely and give up.
Instead, because I'm a stubborn ass, I pick up a molded pot. I've got a row of them along the back wall of the cave, all shaped and made pretty, just waiting to dry out so they can have a turn on the fire. I've worked the construction down to a good system—I make coils of clay, just like I was taught in that long-ago class, and work them into the shape I need. Once it looks right, I smooth the coils out and then I bake it.
Or I try to. Every bake ends up a disaster of shattered pottery.
I know it can be done, I just don't know how. Chewing on my lip, I smooth the dried edges of the pot. I could always just leave it as it is—a dry hunk of clay—and use it to hold things. It wouldn't be watertight, though. It wouldn't be real pottery. It'd just be a pretend sort of thing…and we already have baskets. No one needs a shitty pot that won't hold water. Frustrated, I growl at the piece and resist the urge to toss it aside. I hate that I've come so far and I can't figure out the next step. I hate that I can't check my phone for an answer, or a book, or ask someone. If I want an answer here, I have to come up with it myself.
I look at my clay-making implements—items I've carefully gathered over the weeks, clay waiting to be worked, more coils, a half-worked pot, my dead fire—and I'm just tired. I'm tired of fighting. I'm tired of trying to be better when everything seems to be working against me. For just once, I wish I had the answers.
My candles flicker. I look up just as a large form ducks into my cave and my khui starts to hum.
A'tam.
I'm too defeated to even argue with him or tell him to go away. I'm still thinking about earlier, too. That's another thing I feel like I failed at. I've barely even resonated and it feels like everything's all wrong there, too. Our talk earlier didn't go how I wanted, which is disappointing. A'tam isn't willing to listen to any criticism about himself, and if he can't accept that he's not perfect, we're never going to get anywhere.