Under normal circumstances, the heavenly scent of the at they’d brought her, and colorful sight of the fruits they’d picked would’ve incited her appetite, but in her situation, both the sll and image banded together only to make her stomach heave.
Arabella stared blankly at the steamy piece of at neatly placed on clean tree bark, right next to the large green leaf hosting the fruits while Cherreka’s most recent words blared over and over in the background.
It had sothing to do with the idea that even attempting to sway Cynric’s mind on the matter of keeping her as a mate against her will, would have been an insult to him and the pack as a whole.
Arabella had many more questions for the old lady, but the latter tightened the knot of the leaves serving as bandages around Arabella’s leg and stood up, claiming she had sowhere else to be.
The young woman’s eyes then flickered onto her swaddled calf, noting how the stinging had ceased altogether.
If only things were as simple as a trade... She’d have agreed to keep the stinging in a heartbeat if it ant having the freedom to leave, to go back to the Eleazars’.
The longer Arabella spent in that cave, the more Silas’ harsh glare seed like the warst of smiles in comparison. In fact, she was ready to give anything just to have a glimpse of it again.
Where was he? What was he doing at that mont and more importantly, how was he feeling?
Once out of the human kidnappers’ hands, was there really anything that could be done to retrieve her?
Whether the Eleazars had given their word that they’d protect her, Arabella wasn’t very sure their reach extended that far.
After all, they’d even failed to bargain with Cynric for one night in those caverns...
"Won’t you eat?" the little voice ca from the other end of the cave.
"Oh Rem...," her gaze went over the food once before looking back at the boy, "No, I don’t feel so hungry," she smiled.
"But I can hear your stomach crying," he remained where he stood and did not go any closer, gaping at her with sparkly, curious eyes.
She imdiately clutched at her stomach, face flushing pink, "Oh! Well, just ignore it. My stomach cries for attention all the ti. It is very capricious," she pushed a chuckle.
"But how will you beco strong like mother if you don’t eat?" he tilted his head to the side.
She sighed, offering him an apologetic look, "I am afraid I’ll never be as strong as her for all I ever try, Rem,"
"But father says different," it sounded more like a protest than a simple statent.
"I understand," she paused for a short mont before adding, "But it doesn’t really work that way,"
"How does it work then?" he asked.
Arabella realized she hadn’t thought her words through. How did it work? Either the answer did not belong with her, or it simply escaped her.
Cherreka had spoken about a certain marking ritual and said it was going to hurt, but that changes would co to her body once it took effect.
There was no talk of crossbreeding among wolf folk in the books she’d consud on the matter. There were ntions of mating rituals but in no way did any of them include this marking.
Did that an that pure breeding between them didn’t involve marking?
The sound of small rocks shifting whisked her back into reality, only to note that Rem still gawked her way, waiting for whatever response she had.
The first idea that popped in her mind in order to switch topics was the food in front of her, "Would you like to eat this at? Because I won’t eat it," she smiled.
"I don’t need to cook my at, my stomach can handle it raw," he said.
"Have you never eaten cooked at before?" her hands finally unclasped her pendant.
"No," Remus shook his head fiercely.
"Well, then here is your chance. It doesn’t have to be about need, but the taste of it alone. Just be careful not to burn your tongue, it’s still steaming hot," she pushed the wood bark slightly towards him.
Remus was quite hesitant at first, but after the first bite he beca unstoppable, frantically tearing at the at before shoving it in his little mouth.
Arabella watched the scene unfold for a minute before her attention flickered onto sothing different, the cavern walls.
"Rem," she called for his attention, "Are we in the famous caverns where the yearly spring equinox celebration is held?"
"Yes!" he mumbled through the munching, "These sacred caverns were passed down to us by our ancestors and then the others stole its rights from us, but father says enough is enough!" the boy wiped at his lips, "It is ti to reclaim our dignity and the respect we’re owed!"
That was it! All his talk about ancestors helped her put the finger on what she felt was missing around her.
"And are we in the deepest pocket of the cavern?" she asked.
"Yes," he said simply.
For the first ti since her arrival, Arabella found the courage to use her legs again and push her weight back onto her feet.
The young woman walked around, her hands grazing the damp walls of the cave.
"It is very odd then," she practically whispered, eyes travelling all around.
"What is?"
"In a small book, a notebook that I’ve read about your people. There was ntion of a tradition among wolf folk. That of marking the walls of their hos all over, using moonstone," her fingers brushed yet another wall, "Letters and words in their ancient language. The essence of moonstone shines in dark places. It should shine in the darkest corners here too, but I can’t find the markings. Would you know how far back does your lineage extend in these caverns?"
However, upon looking at Rem, Arabella’s shoulders slumped as the boy rely stared at her with furrowed eyebrows, null doubt, understanding nothing of what she’d spewed.
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