Salair Ner clenched his fists in anger.
He was a wanderer. He sought to adventure wherever and whenever he desired. Not quite feral, he was undoubtedly on this side of it, having an untamed disposition, a solitary nature, and an acute dislike for most authority. Thus, he had been close to defying his king's wishes. Yet, he was also the son of a clan leader, and as such, underneath it all, he understood what it meant to be loyal. His father maintained an ultimate respect for Gian Ren. Because of that, Salair Ner would no more disrespect his king, than his own sire.
So he was headed home.
And like every other Familiar caught in the politics of the times, he knew that his personal freedom to roam about would soon be greatly curtailed.
But, the king's decree wasn't the only reason he was headed back to M'yan. He was soon to enter his third incarnation. He would need a priestess.
Soon.
Salair was irritated–
and so raw–
that he took a moment to
snarl
. Loudly.
Several passers-by jumped and gave the dangerous looking traveler a wide berth. Shapeshifting felines were unpredictable at best. When a cat growled, it was always wise to let it be.
Oblivious to the sudden path that opened up around him in the crowded square, Salair strode resolutely to the eastern wall of the town. There were two Tunnel points on
Zillian.
One led to a rather direct route to his home planet; the other, to somewhere
else
.
The choice was obvious.
So, why did he switch at the last moment and step through portal in the wrong direction?
***
Planet Teno, non-Alliance territory
Once Salair had taken the Tunnel to this world–and questioned his sanity for doing so–he immediately used his special senses to lead him to the next gate out. Hopefully, he could find another link back without having to go out of his way too much. Tunnel points were sometimes in one direction only.
Blame the House of Sages who decide these things for no reason any mundane could figure!
Luck being what is was–he could not go back through. The problem was, he was not sure his special senses were leading him
anywhere.
He seemed to be trekking aimlessly through rural backwoods at this point. The scenery provided pleasant surroundings, but he was not aiming for a pleasure walk.
A light wind lifted the edges of his cloak, bringing to his attention the warmth of the night in these moonlit fields. He threw back the hood and swept the heavy cloak off. The
breeze immediately caressed the long locks of his hair in an almost loving gesture, sending the lengthy strands adrift in the night wind.
He paused a moment to gather his bearings.
It was late in the evening on this planet. Surrounded by rolling hills, and tall grasses, it seemed he was in the middle of nowhere. There were no villages in sight. He did not even know the name of the planet he was on. But, he didn't have to, necessarily.
The Familiar generally relied more on their own senses then anything else. Maps were never as accurate as a Familiar's internal sense of direction.
On one side in the distance, rolling hills half-circled the field. Behind him was forest. In front of him, silvery moon rays skipped across the clear waters of a small pond whose banks were surrounded by reed like plants.
Bending down, he broke off a pod from the top of the nearest plant. Idly, he crushed the shell between his fingers, mildly surprised when a rich, thick substance emerged, covering his hands.
The creamy liquid emitted a soothing, sweet fragrance. He rubbed the viscous cream between his fingers, marveling at its texture. His senses told him the fluid was harmless; he wondered if the locales used the pods for perfumes?
Too tired to ponder the minor mystery–one of but a myriad for a traveler–he wiped his hands off on the grass and gazed up at the night sky. It was a sultry evening. Almost overly warm.
The cooling water of the pond lapped against the banks. It was a good enough invitation for him.
His thrumming, raw senses could use a good dunking. He stripped off his clothes to take a quick bath. But, how could he be quick in such a place? The surroundings were so utterly peaceful and welcoming to him.
Flipping onto his back, with his hair streaming around him in the water, he floated across the surface of the pond as he lazily watched the brilliant stars above. It was easy for a Familiar to get distracted by nature. Salair knew he would have to move on soon, but perhaps he could rest in this spot for a while? It seemed safe enough; and he was sure he would find no better place to stop and rest on his journey.
The gentle waters soothed some of his fever, rocking him into a pleasant lull. He drifted off into a light doze.
***
He awoke the next morning beside the bank of the pond.
It had been the first full night's sleep he had had in many a day. He glanced up at the sky. It was way past sunrise. Best to be moving on.
He quickly donned his
tracas
, cinching the pants at his lean waist with the braided cord.
Faint sounds of singing carried on wind. . .
Salair's ears twitched. He scrunched his shoulders. It was almost painful. Someone was humming a happy tune.
Discordantly
.
Curious, he padded barefoot to the edge of the forest. The sound was coming from just past the copse of trees. Grabbing his boots and the rest of his clothes, he slipped through the forest to investigate; because Familiars and cats are unhealthily curious. He felt
something
pulling him in that direction.
Moving with a preternatural stealth, he silently slipped through the foliage until he was very close to the source of disharmonious clatter. The pulling feeling he had experienced was stronger now.
Still concealed by the dense vegetation, he carefully separated the leafy vines that were obstructing his view. As he watched silently, his dual-colored eyes narrowed ominously.
He did not expect
this. Not ever.
Awaiting him in the next field over was his destiny. Unexpected and untimely.
And decidedly. . .
odd
.
Was it a mistake of cosmic proportions?
This
was his woman?
Familiars sensed their mates, so there could be no mistake. And yet. . .
There
seemed
to be a mistake!
She was the exact opposite of him. In every way. Where he was lean, sculptured muscle, she was round, soft curves. Where he was intense and ever alert, she faced the world with an open smile, relaxed and composed. He lived to roam the universe. She appeared content in her own garden. With a sinking feeling, Salair knew without a doubt that she was the kind of Familiar that liked to be about her home.
Cozy, and affectionate. Happiest when surrounded by everything and everyone she loved.
She was certainly
not
going to approve of
him
. Even within his own clan–and a rather ferocious bunch they were–he was known as 'the lone one'. Although. . . He was not a complete loner like some. Salair was not feral, and he did enjoy engaging females–even if he would sooner
scratch
than
purr
.
It was his nature to be aloof, and he protected his surrounding space always. (His father had once told him that he was one of those Familiars who would be soft to only one person. The one he would love above all others. Salair had scoffed at that, incapable of imagining himself taming down for anyone.)
He had always expected his chosen mate–should he actually end up with one–to be as he. Adventurous, stalking on the wild side, and living life on the edge of breath, every waking moment of every day.
He would never simply 'settle in'. He loved to explore too much.
How was this to work?
As his mind raced variations on the improbable situation, he took a moment to really study the scene before him. The little cottage had been built in the middle of the small woodland clearing.
She
sat on a log in front with a big, round clay bowl nestled on her ample lap.
Despite the distance, he could clearly hear her contented
purrs
between notes of her song.
The fact that she could not carry a tune did not stop her from humming that striated song as she happily shucked native vegetation. Her pearly cheeks were stained with a light red blush.
Very sweet-looking
, he acknowledged to himself as he noted her pink lips and light brown hair. There was something about the way she looked that was. . .
Comforting
? Salair grit his teeth. He did not do “comforting”. As he continued to observe her, a small elderly
Dundee
stuck her wizened head out the door and called out a warning not to stay in the sun too long. Dundee were not overly fond of sunlight, preferring to stay indoors most of the day. They were not a native species to this planet, so Salair was somewhat surprised to see one here. They were not great travelers.
"Snowflake!" The Dundee called to the Familiar woman.
"It is too warm in the sun. Come inside soon or you will shrivel up!"
Snowflake
? Salair's lips pressed together. What kind of name was that for a proper Familiar? His nostrils flared in annoyance.
It sounds like a pet's name.
The Familiar, or Snowflake, as she was called, laughed gaily at the old Dundee. "Please do not tell me you believe that nonsense? Sunlight has to be good for you!"
"How you know?" The Dundee snapped back, fat lower lip jutting out. "I know plenty person get charred up all bad in sun. Make themselves roasted meal for others, if not careful."
Snowflake almost doubled over in laughter. "Are you saying that I am cooking myself up to serve myself as a meal to some hapless passerby?"
Salair arched his eyebrows.
"
Hmf
! You no so smart as you used to be, Kitten feet. You be sorry when you the banquet." Proper warning given, the Dundee flounced back inside the cottage.
Grinning at the ridiculous assertions, Snowflake raised her face to the warm rays of the sun.
"What I tell you? Kitten feet stew!" came the voice from the window just before the shutters slammed shut. Snowflake snorted. The Dundee were generally the kindest, gentlest, people on the planet.
Except when it came to their odd superstitions. How they ever got the gumption to leave their home planet in the first place, she never figured out. Now, her real parents had been seasoned travelers. She could not recall a time when they were not exploring. It was unusual for Familiar families to travel with a child in tow, but they had loved it.
Some of her memories, however, were not that pleasant, though. . .
She was glad the two elderly Dundee had taken the chance to emigrate to
Teno
. Without them, what would have happened to her?
She would probably not be alive.
After the incident that took her parents, they had found her wandering, disoriented in the woods. They had raised her as their own.
She was so happy here in–
A frisson of awareness trickled down her spine.
She froze.
***
Salair Ner had honed in on her with unwavering clarity. As a marksman does his target.
For a brief time, he considered the choices available to him–giving the greatest weight to what would be best for her. Ganakari had declared war on the Familiar; Karpon's minions would not be far behind. They might already be searching for him. A beautiful Familiar woman would just be an added bonus for them.
In addition, he was fast approaching his Incarnation. He had observed the gentle rise and fall of her breathing as she went about her chore. His dual-colored eyes flashed with sudden hunger. If he mated her now, he would not need a priestess.
She could ease him through it.
In the end, there was only one course of action. He could not leave her behind. She was definitely coming with him.
But first, he would need to make her his.
***
Snowflake had ceased smiling and stared straight in Salair's direction.
There was but a moment for him to realize that she had one eye of gold and one of brown before she called out.
"I know you are out there," she addressed the woods.
"You do not have to hide. I will not hurt you." Salair blinked. Her hurt
him
? He grinned at the absurd idea. Although, he was surprised that she had sensed him from such a distance. It seemed she had exceptionally acute senses. Always a plus.
Naturally bold, Salair brushed aside the concealing vines and stepped into the clearing. "I am Salair Ner, Son of the Northern Hunter," he proclaimed his identity and heritage to her.
At the sound of the deep masculine voice, Snowflake's brow furrowed. "Do we know each other?" Salair took note of the attractive blush across her cheekbones. The creamy skin with its mid-morning flush beckoned to him like a new treat to discover. He looked forward to
tasting
that treat.