Warmth

In his dream, he was sold after all.

The trader quickly took him to another beastfolk city, where a heavyset female paid crystals for him. She enjoyed violence. Her many male mates were skilled fighters, and before long she had him thrown into an arena.

The dream was blurred.

The pain was not.

In the form of a thin python, he clumsily tried to evade a tiger. Just as its jaws closed around his throat, someone called an end to the senseless fight.

He shifted back. Injured and exposed before the crowd, he could not even curl up to protect himself.

Someone dragged him away as though he were already dead.

Wounds from the tiger's claws covered his body. Shifting had drained so much strength that even moving a finger was difficult. They threw him into a cage and fed him half a bowl of watery flourpod gruel each day.

Somehow, stubbornly, he survived.

Half a month later, the female returned with other males. The arena handlers dragged him out to show her, eager to please.

"The one from last time... still alive..."

Fragments of conversation reached him through his weakness.

"Oh? He hasn't died? Use him for this performance, then."

She casually shoved aside the male beside her. He fell to the ground and stared in horror at Silas's injuries, while she continued toward the viewing stands as though nothing had happened.

His life, his pride, his dignity—none of it mattered.

He was an old scrap of hide, used until it was worthless and then tossed away. If something dirtier needed wiping up, someone could always reach for him again.

It hurt.

"Silas...? Silas. Wake up."

A warm hand nudged his freezing body.

He woke with a start and discovered his cheeks were wet. The grass beneath his head was damp, too. Beyond the little patch warmed by his body, it felt icy.

The room was pitch-black. He could only make out a dim figure in front of him, not her face or expression.

But he knew it was Avery.

His heart tightened. Had his crying disturbed her?

"Silas, are you all right?"

Her voice was as gentle as it had been that afternoon.

Her hand rested on him. It did not come down with the familiar weight that left skin and flesh aching. It was light and warm against him, the only source of heat in the night.

Avery had already been asleep.

She had always been practical about things she could not change. Lying awake thinking would solve nothing. She would find out what could be done when she got up and tried in the morning.

But somewhere between sleep and waking, she had heard someone crying.

The sound went on and on, until she recognized Silas's voice.

These eyes were far better than human eyes. Even in this darkness, she could see clearly, as though she had built-in night vision.

Pushing aside the broad leaves over his doorway, she had found him curled in the corner with his eyes squeezed shut and tears running down his face.

She was not someone who felt compelled to rescue every unfortunate person, but she did not want to leave anyone crying alone in the middle of the night.

Without his beast form, Silas looked entirely human. Terror still clung to his face. His gaze would not focus as he tried to make her out.

His eyes were lovely, framed by long, curling lashes, thicker at the outer corners. Now those lashes clung together with tears. His eyes shone with moisture and deep fear.

He looked utterly miserable.

"Silas?"

She nudged him again, trying to bring him fully awake.

"I'm... I'm all right. Did I wake you?"

Being in the same room as the person who had beaten him for so long made him painfully tense. Memories of pain rose all too easily.

He was afraid his crying would make her take back the little kindness she had shown him and start hitting him again.

"No. I heard you crying. Were you having a nightmare?"

Now that he was awake and no longer crying, Avery reached down and felt his thin covering.

She winced.

As a female, her body naturally maintained its beast traits and withstood the cold better than his. Even she had felt slightly chilly under a thicker hide. How was he sleeping beneath this flimsy thing?

"No..."

His voice was faint.

He did not dare agree with her when he had no idea what would follow. If he said nothing had happened, perhaps she would leave it alone.

She never concerned herself with him anyway.

Avery nodded. Then, noticing his unfocused eyes, she remembered that he could not see her and murmured an acknowledgment instead.

She turned and left.

Silas dimly watched her disappear into the darkness. A little of the pressure eased inside his chest.

Then the leaves at his doorway lifted again.

His heart leaped back into his throat.

Had she realized he was lying?

Had she gone to fetch something?

He could see that she was carrying a bundle. Before he could think, his body drew into a tighter curl.

Avery saw the reaction clearly.

Yet even now, there was no anger in his face. No hatred. Only endless submission, as though obedience might spare him a few blows.

She sighed again and spread the hide she carried over him.

Males in this world took propriety seriously. Silas had been uncomfortable enough wearing her clothes during the day. Giving him a covering she had slept under would probably be worse.

Instead, she had fetched a spare hide from the bottom of her chest. It was a little too warm for this body at present; her predecessor had been saving it for colder weather.

The blow Silas expected never came.

The terror of the dream had not yet faded when soft fur settled over his worn covering.

The cold stopped stealing away his warmth. Heat began to gather around him.

He lay stunned by the weight, then suddenly grabbed at the new hide in alarm.

Almost every pelt in the house had already been traded for food. He could not use this one.

"I don't need a hide. A-Avery, I don't need it."

He spoke so rarely that the words tangled together. He was desperate to explain, yet could only clutch the bearskin and listen to himself making no sense.

Beastfolk generally called each other by name, rather than using family titles such as brother or sister. But he had never addressed Avery by hers. It felt unfamiliar and frightening in his mouth.

Still, he needed to stop her. She had to take the hide away.

He could not understand why she was being so good to him.

Even being ignored again would have felt safer. This kindness left him restless and frightened, unable to guess what she intended in the end.

"Keep it on. No more crying tonight."

She waved a hand and went back to her own room.

Silas tightened his fingers slightly.

It was a thick bearskin. With the smallest pressure, his fingertips sank into the soft fur.

Her words had been rather matter-of-fact, yet something faintly warm rose inside him.

Before today, whatever state he was in, she had only looked at him coldly and then glanced away, as though he were of no importance at all.

Obediently, he pulled the thick hide over himself.

He must not disturb Avery again.

Warmth built quickly beneath it. He moved his hands and feet, no longer icy.

For the first time, he fell asleep on a cold night without shivering.