Chapter Thirty-One – The Dragon’s Favorite Strays
Chapter Thirty-One
MURR
After much hand-gesturing, I learn that the finger-waving means going on a journey. Learning their strange sounds are bad enough. Now I must learn hand-signals too? Just when I think I am catching on to their strange language, they change it on me. I try not to show Dakotah how defeated the finger-wiggling makes me.
How am I ever going to learn to speak properly to them when all my ways to talk have been stolen away? Again, I push my thoughts at Dakotah, determined to break through whatever is preventing me from hearing the others around me. There is nothing but silence, and I end up giving myself a headache.
Whatever has changed, whatever set my mind back to itself has also stolen away my ability to communicate.
I’m starting to think I’d rather be insane.
The females do not notice my morose mood. They put their packs on their backs and chatter over each other. The two elderly ones – Ah-gee and Doh-dee – take the lead. Dakotah follows behind them, listening attentively to their conversation as they seemingly argue with each other. She carries a stick weapon of her own, the end studded with bits of metal, and holds it as she walks. I notice that she does not seem easy as she moves. Her gaze is locked on the two elderly females, as if she does not entirely trust them.
Perhaps later I should ask Dakotah if she needs them killed. Not all who smile are friendly.
Perhaps this is another reason she asks me to wear the loin wrap. Does she think to protect me from them in some way? Am I misunderstanding that she wishes to keep my male glory for herself?
If so, this is another disappointment.
Ribbit follows after the group, and the protector in me cannot let all my strays go off on their own. They are more vulnerable than a kitten wandering away from its mother. At least kittens are fast and know to duck into small places at the first sign of danger. My humans are not. They need me.
We travel over the ugly landscape with Ah-gee and Doh-dee talking constantly the entire time, scaring away any game that might be nearby. My ears prick at the sound of distant hooves — deer that were scared away by Ah-gee’s loud sounds. I lift my head and scent the breeze, looking to pick up anything else that might be in this area.
A male’s scent is here. Old and stale, but I recognize it. It is the same male that I scented back near Dakotah’s nest. It makes my hackles rise, and I skirt around the area, following the scent trail while the females converge on an old human-sized metal box and pry it open. After a few paces, I relax a bit. The scent heads away from our camp. My females are protected…for now.
This must have been where the older two females were staying before they met us. They pull soft things out of the metal box and begin to fold them up. Dakotah puts some of them in her pack while Ah-gee and Doh-dee continue to argue.
Ribbit comes to my side, her expression curious. “U ok Murr?”
I nod, her words slow enough that I can follow them, which I appreciate. I point at the metal box. “Caah?”
“Yes!” Ribbit seems happy to talk with me. “U want more words?” She gestures at her mouth. “More talk?”
I nod. More hand signals. I hope I have not been missing a hand language this entire time. “Ribbit words yes.”
She beams and squats down nearby, her hands flattening on a round dark object. “Tire.”
“Tiaah.” It is a hard sound to wrap my mouth around.
She points at more things, and when I know the word, I say it. I have words for tree, and cloud, and bill-ding, and she is pleased at my progress. Her fingers go to her face and she puts them at the corners of her mouth, lifting them up.
“Kith,” I announce, even though I know the word for this lip-stretching.
“What?” Dakotah’s voice raises high and she turns to stare at me and her daughter, horror on her face.
“No, silly,” Ribbit giggles, delighted at my response. “SMILE.”
“Smiiih,” I try, glancing over at her mother. “No kith.”
Ribbit just gives me a sly look. “Murr kith Dakota cheek.”
Good, she wants to know more about why I put my lips on her mother, too. This is a topic I wish to discuss as well.
Dakotah calls out sharply, storming over to her daughter’s side. “Rabbit!”
“Yes kith,” I agree and pat my jaw. “Kith face.”
“Mouth kiss better,” she continues. “Murr should kiss Mom on the mouth. Big happy.”
I put my hands on my hips, trying to decipher what Ribbit’s goal is. Dakotah is watching us, her expression one of mortification, not excitement. She does not want my mouth kith. There is something I am missing here. I lean in so only Ribbit can hear me. “Mouth kith…bad?”
Ribbit puts her hands in the air. “Immalet Mom hannel dis un.”
Dakotah just crosses her arms and scowls at the two of us.
