- Xark’on -

I wish she would go back to her cave.

It would make things so much easier. It would be a sign from the Ancestors that she’s not to be used as bait. Which I won't do anyway.

It would be their confirmation of something that has just occurred to me: she’s my reward.

She’s my reward for doing this, for making things perfect for my tribe. Two days with her. The privilege of Worshipping her, and the unexpected honor and unbelievable pleasure of being Worshipped by her.

Then she leaves and goes back to wherever she came from. And I have no bait to use in the trap. Except myself.

It will kill me, as it would kill any kind of living bait. The bait for Troga has to be living, that’s obvious. She wouldn’t go for the carcass of a Big. No, she must have human bait. And when Caroline leaves, it has to be me.

She is my reward then. To enjoy before the act. Before I use myself to lure Troga to fall into this hole. A clear sign. The Ancestors expect this of me. They expect me to make the trap and then die while killing Troga.

And in exchange, they give me some days with Caroline. It’s a fair reward. Lavish even. The sacrifice must be similarly great. I must give it all.

But then again, the tribe will also be lavishly rewarded after Troga and I are dead.

It has to be their plan. Because the other option, using her as bait, is ridiculous. I could never do that. I could never hang her over the trap for Troga to burn alive and then eat. Holy Ancestors, the very idea gives me chills and makes me queasy. A beautiful, gentle, and soft being like Caroline can’t be used for that. It’s not right.

But me, a bumbling warrior with strange interests and no offspring from the Lifegivers, that’s different. Appropriate even.

So I wish she would go. The longer she stays, the more painful it will be for me when she does. Already I’m getting used to her soft, bright voice. Her clear eyes and her shy smile. The way she chews her meat. The way she smells. The sight of her round hips. The way she makes sure to stay close when we walk in the jungle, making me feel immensely protective.

I’ve never been this torn. I want her to go. But I also desperately want her to stay. Just one more night. Surely that’s possible. I can’t even imagine which wonders she’ll show me.

But then it will be worse when she leaves.

It will. But I can go to my death happily, having experienced the best things life has to offer.

But then what will become of Caroline? Will the Ancestors take her up? Will she live with her tribe with no Xark’on to protect her? Who will guard her during her walk back to her cave?

She gets up and walks back to her little pots. Her hips swivel in a way that I’d never imagined before I met her, but which looks so right. Her slender calves, the back of her knees, her shoulders, her hair—everything about her is mysterious and different and unspeakably alluring.

Her presence makes my groin swell, and the sight of her round behind just makes it worse. A part of me just wants to tie her up, hoist her into the tree house, and keep her there, forgetting everything about the trap and the tribe and just enjoying her in the other way the shaman told us about, where my manhood goes into her slit.

Perhaps the Ancestor will allow me to experience that before she leaves?

I heave another shovelful of dirt out of the hole, and this one flies far.

No, of course not. That’s for making offspring in a mysterious way that somehow doesn’t involve Lifegivers. And I don’t think my reward will include that. No, these past days with Caroline is reward enough. I must not get greedy.

Yes, I want her to go. She said that she would.

But I also want her to stay.

I want that with every fiber of my being.