"We do not know each other. . . And, yet, we do know each other."
She snorted, then smiled. "A riddle on such a fine day as this?"
He liked her voice. In fact, he thought he could come to
love
that voice. Light and soft and somewhat melodic. Very soothing. . . When she was not singing.
Again, it occurred to him that she was the opposite of what he usually sought out in a female. Throaty, sultry tones were his normal preference.
On closer inspection, her generous curves were perfectly rounded. Hair that he had originally dismissed as rather dull for a Familiar's was actually subtly intriguing with many, albeit slight, variances of hue amongst the strands. Her features, not sensually beautiful at first glance, held a pleasantness that correlated with warm, loving embraces and . . .
home.
Uncomfortable with that thought, Salair shook off the unwelcome image.
He just was not that kind of cat.
He was a wanderer, a lover, and an adventurer. Occasionally, he caused trouble. He liked his sex hot and fast–or hot and slow.
But never
tender
.
He was not a tender sort of lover. He lived wild, loved wild, and always moved on. This woman–he could tell just from looking–was not that kind.
How had this happened?
He wondered again. She was his mate; there was no uncertainty. The signals his special senses were receiving left no doubt of it. It was confusing to him. They simply did not seem to
"go" together.
Should he trust his instincts or his perceptions? Instinct was always wiser. He remembered the recent words spoken by a trader in the marketplace on Zillian.
'. . .Familiars rely on their senses; do they not? I am envious. It seems a most beneficial advantage in these turbulent times. If I had better instincts, my friend, I never would have left to go on this wretched journey in the first place. No one is trading or purchasing in this sour economy!'
Having liked the trader, he had bartered his
krilli
sash for the plain cloth one he now wore. In exchange, the trader had happily pointed out the smoothest route to the Tunnel Portals.
Perhaps the friendly trader was right? He should not question his Familiar senses. They had served him well throughout his lifetime.
Unlike some other species, the Familiar believed in getting to know their mates first through the physical act of love. He should simply trigger the mating response and let nature take its course.
It was his responsibility as a male.
As Salair was preparing for his next, momentous step, Snowflake felt a sudden
tickle
course down her spine. It was not alarm. She always trusted her feelings and this strange visitor felt very. . .
comfortable
to her. She suddenly felt wonderfully relaxed.
Without hesitation, she instantly
engaged
the shapeshifter by flashing him a wide smile. "So, Salair Ner, Son of the Northern Hunter, are you to explain your enigmatic statement–or am I left to wonder at its meaning?"
Salair observed her welcoming smile with surprise. He had not triggered her yet.
Something
must have escaped unbidden, though, as the woman was suddenly very predisposed towards him.
His dual-colored eyes flashed with a mixture of wary puzzlement. "Why are you called Snowflake?" Her hand went to her throat. "You–you know my name?"
He nodded to the cabin, indicating the Dundee who had called out to her earlier. She didn't seem to know what he meant for she simply stared at him vacantly, waiting for further explanation. "The Dundee who called out to you before."
"Oh, of course," she smiled softly. "It is Snow, actually. That Dundee is the only one who still calls me Snowflake. She hates when I sit in the sun."
"Our people love to be in the sun. Does she not know this?"
"
Our
people?"
A line furrowed Salair's smooth forehead. "Yes, our people. The Familiar."
She grinned. "Ah. I had my suspicions, but I was not sure." The strange frisson she had felt must have been the excitement of finally meeting one of her own kind again. Salair was shocked by her statement. "You did not–
You do not know your own people?"
"Well, of course, I remember bits and pieces, but I was very young when I lost my parents to. . . " She paused.
"Well, when they were lost."
"I apologize for my rudeness." There was genuine regret in his voice for bringing up what must be a troubling subject for her.
"It was many years ago. I was fortunate that the Dundee and her companion took me in."
"And it is good that I have found you now. It is very dangerous for our kind these days."
Snow bit her lip. "I have heard a few rumors. That Familiar are being hunted down in large sections of the galaxy. Is it really true?"
He nodded. "It is true."
"I am sorry to hear that. Are you in danger here on
Teno
?"
"Perhaps. I spied a tracker on the last planet; I am almost sure I was tagged."
"Then I am sorry we will not have much time to get to know one another better. You are the first of my people I have met since I was a child. Can you at least share the evening meal with us?"
"No. We should leave as soon as possible." Snow sat up straight.
"We?"
"Yes, Snow, you must come with me to M'yan. The King of All Familiar, Gian Ren, has called his subjects home."
"Not me! I am not part of that world, Salair Ner."
"You are part of it, whether you desire it, or not. It is who you are. Do you think the slavers will stop to ask whether you are any different because the Dundee have' taken you in'? They will look at you and know the truth."
"What do you mean?" Her smooth forehead furrowed in confusion.
He gave her a strange look. "Your eyes, of course. You must come with me, Snow. We cannot tarry here long." She stood up, knocking the clay bowl to the ground; its contents spilling everywhere. "Do not be foolish, Familiar! I am not leaving my home. We may be
of the same people, but you are a stranger to me. I have no intention of going with you. And it is unkind of you to insult my eyes."
Insult her eyes?
He had done no such thing. This was becoming more complicated than he ever dreamed; the woman did not even know her people! Did she not realize that Familiar had dual-colored eyes? Obviously, she had no idea of the danger she was in. If he hadn't come upon her, someone from the village would have eventually revealed her presence here. It was a miracle she had not been taken already.
He let out a long sigh and held his hand out to her. Snow's instincts came alive. Talk of leaving made her shy away from him. She wanted no part of it. It had always been safe for her with the Dundee.
Staggering back from him, she raised her hand as if to ward him off. Not reach for his outstretched fingers.
"Stop," was all she could gasp. She turned to flee back to the safety and security of her cottage–And promptly tripped over the bowl she had overturned. Salair bent a knee to help her. Familiars were never clumsy. If the situation had not been so dire, it would almost be humorous.
He gently guided her back onto the log. "Why are you–" But he could no longer speak.
He had realized in that moment that she was quite blind.
***
Blind?!
How can a Familiar be blind? Did she not know she could heal herself during transformation? How long had she been like this? Why was she hiding?
A hundred questions hit him at once.
Yet, curiously, the first one he eventually asked her was,
"
Why do you run from me
?" From that moment on, he stayed by her side.
***
"Your constant talk of danger frightens me." Snow nervously plucked at the coarse fabric of her garment as she sat atop the log. It was late in the day, and a version of this conversation had taken place three times already. They had talked of many things–but whenever he brought this subject back up, she backed off.
He frowned.
He was not making much headway with her and it was getting late.
The creaking of a shutter told Salair that the Dundee was watching them closely from inside the house. Earlier, she had brought out a meal for them on a tray–all the while throwing him suspicious glances from under a boney brow. The Dundee was distrustful of him, and he supposed she had every right to be.
Sighing, Salair took Snow’s hands in his. Soon, he would drape this woman in the finest
krilli
cloths. He could not wait to see her garbed in the traditional
jatal-riaz
. For now, he placed a fragrant flower on her lap as a small gift, and kneeled down beside her.
"
Know you not who I am to you?" Snow swallowed nervously. "I know that we are of the same people. I know that we are both Familiar. In that regard, I feel a kinship to you, Salair Ner. How could I not? You are the first of my people I have met since I was a young girl. I am happy you have come this way on your journey and that I have had a chance to make your acquaintance. I have long wondered what meeting one of my. . . Well, what it would be like. May I share something with you?"
"Please."
She stood up and paced the yard. Dusk was upon them; a few stars began to twinkle in the evening sky. He stood as well.
"There are times when I have felt outside of things here. It is hard to explain. It is not as if I do not belong, but. . ."
"It is not as if you belong, either." She nodded. "But-but not because I was made to feel that way! The Dundee have been most kind to me and–" His fingertip touched her lips to stop her. "You need not continue; I understand." He lightly stroked her lip with the edge of his finger. "Tell me, Snow, what do you remember of your own people?"
She smiled suddenly. "I do remember my parents–my real parents. They loved to laugh. We traveled continually and had so many adventures! My father was very tall and powerful. At least to a child's eyes. And my mother was so beautiful. . ."
"Like her daughter." His hand cupped her cheek. She turned her face away from him. "Am. . . Am I like that?" She certainly never felt that way. Salair sighed. Clearly her life had kept her sheltered from many things. She knew so little, it appeared. "You are a fine female Familiar."
"Oh." He had not said she was pretty, though. Snow sometimes wondered if she were actually displeasing, since she had often been kept removed from others. She suddenly wondered what
he
looked like.
"What color is your skin?"
"My skin tone is a blend of your eye colors,
Soft cat
. Golden tan."
"And what color are your eyes, Salair Ner?"
"One is the color of deep water–that if you could
see
, you would know." He prodded her for a reaction.
"Icy, then," she shot back, thinking his comment somewhat rude.
"That depends on the observer. A traveler, overly warm from her journey might come upon such a pond of water and find it honestly refreshing."
"Or uncomfortably chilled."
"Perhaps," he conceded, knowing full well how others often perceived him. Those who knew him not.
"And what of your other eye? Did you not say Familiars have two differently colored eyes?"
"We do. My dual-colored eyes denote that I am pure Familiar.
Like you.
It is golden, Snow, like the sun's rays." He tugged her hair. "
Like you
" The smile was in his voice, and she picked up on his teasing.
"May I feel your face?" she asked quietly.
He did not respond in words; he just lifted her hands to his face. Snow's gentle touch pleased him into a soft
purr
. Snow felt
exact
features. She wasn't sure what that meant. Was he handsome? Dull? Average? His features felt. . . Somehow right. A clearly drawn nose, longish lashes over eyes that tipped up slightly at the corners, high cheekbones, lips that were so soft to the feel, yet so firm. Her brow furrowed. "Are you typical of our kind?" He snorted, and she could discern the slow smile riding his words. "There is not a male Familiar alive who would consider himself
typical
, Snow, but–
I am just an average male
." He paused, then added softly, “You need not feel uncomfortable around me.”
She nodded. "They whisper in the village that Familiar males are extraordinary in certain ways" She hesitated, charmingly. "Is this true?"
He captured the tip of her finger between his teeth.
"Perhaps, you can tell me that . . . later." This man had such a wondrous scent! He smelled of the forest, of wintry trees, cool spices, and brisk, clear wind. The fragrance was very enticing
.
And somewhat. . . recognizable. . .