The entrance flap pulls back, and Dawn pushes her way inside, clearly unaware that Valmir and I are having a moment. She freezes the instant she sees him, her gaze flicking over to me.
The only sound in the tent is the constant hum of our resonating khuis.
With a fluid motion, Valmir rises and slips out of the hut, leaving me alone with Dawn and the two-fang. I'd swear the song of my khui turns mournful as I watch him go.
Dawn hesitates, glancing back as Valmir disappears out of sight. "Did I interrupt something?"
"No. He brought me a pelt, like I asked. It's just attached." I show her the creature in my hands.
"Please tell me that's not dinner."
I hold the fluffy thing closer to my chest, letting it snuggle in between my breasts. "It's not. It's injured and I'm going to heal it up and release it back into the wild."
"So it can become dinner later," Dawn says, ever practical.
All right then, maybe not. Maybe it'll be my pet forever after all. I don't know how his leg is going to heal up, and I wouldn't send him back out into the snow if he wasn't able to handle it. "We'll see. What do you think I should ask for next?"
Dawn heads to her bed, pulling off the outer layer of her boots as she moves. "Nothing living."
Maybe not. Even so, I can't be upset that I have this little friend in my arms. I pet its pointy little face and I'm glad he's alive. I want to respect this land and the creatures that live here.
It's what my ancestors would do. It's the spirit ofmalama pono.Of being a good shepherd to the land and not being wasteful.
The word makes me pause, and I say it aloud. "Malama pono." The translator doesn't come up with an answer, but I know what it means just the same. Maybe the translator isn't bugging out. Maybe there's a language in my head it doesn't have? But what language?
Dawn looks up from unlacing her boot wraps. "You say something?"
"Me? No, just thinking aloud about what to call this little guy." I pet him again and wonder at who I was before I was cloned. Who was April back home before she was stolen by aliens and cut into pieces to make copies of? I hold my new pet close to my cheek, cradling it and whispering, "Cloning people is definitely not practicingmalama pono."
The two-fang fits perfectly in the basket, and to my relief, he doesn't struggle or try to escape. He burrows deeper into the furs at the bottom of the basket as if trying to hide. I decide to name himMakana. It means "gift from the gods" in the unknown language that drifts through my mind now and again. I look at my little furball and want to remind myself that I'm taking care of him only until he's healthy once more. He's my gift from the land, reminding me to honor all the creatures here. The wordMakanadrifted in immediately, and I'm excited. I wonder if more of this language is going to filter in, and if so, if I'll end up learning a lot more about who April was back on Earth.
Makana is a good guest, too. He nibbles on all the things I bring him — dried seaweed, seeds, bits of leaves I was saving fortea, and the shrimp shells everyone here uses for a caffeine hit. He eats all of it, lifting the food to his mouth with two tiny paws and going around his long, sharp front teeth. I give him meltwater in a shallow bowl to drink. I stay in the hut, watching him as he moves around. He definitely favors his leg, and I want to wrap it up but I'm also afraid of getting bitten if I hurt him. I decide to wait for Valmir to come around, because I know he's going to.
There's no way Valmir isn't going to show up and demand his date with me.
Dawn heads off early to go gathering with some of the others. It's a nice day and I don't want to sit in the dark inside, so I pull the front door flap open, hooking it off to the side to let fresh air in. Makana pays no attention to the doorway, more than happy to nibble on the seeds I've given him. I glance out at the gray skies. Something tells me that Valmir will be by the moment Dawn disappears, and I'm not wrong. No sooner does Dawn clear out than Valmir shows up, a massive pink fish hooked through the gill on one finger. He pauses by the doorway and sniffs it with satisfaction. His pleased gaze slides to me. "Does your friend know that I've marked your door?"
She would behorrified. "No, and I'm not telling her. Neither are you, pussycat."
"Pussycat?"
"You look like a cat. They were pets back home. Kinda like Makana." I pick up the two-fang and he goes into my arms like he's always been my pet, settling in against my chest. My heart melts at how sweet he is.
Valmir's gaze goes from the animal in my arms and then back to my face. "You named it?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Are you keeping it, then?"
"I don't know," I say defensively. "Does it matter?"
"No. I suppose it could be worse. You could have called it 'pussycat.'"
"I wouldn't," I say, changing my tone to one of sweetness. "That's your name."
He gives me stink eye and gestures at the fish he's holding. "I brought our meal. Can I come in?"
I indicate he can join me, not getting up from my spot on the floor. Makana wiggles and I set him down in my lap, and he curls up there in the crook of my crossed legs, like a kitten. "Thank you for fishing."