Brock trotted back to the cave with his kill in his mouth. He'd found a nice, fat, whatever-this-thing-was less than two miles away. It was plenty large enough to feed the both of them until dinner.
Maybe they should just hang out here for the day. They had plenty of time to get back to "where he started". It had taken him less than two days in human form, and he'd marked his trail well. That gave them three days to get back. It should be easy, even if the going was a bit slower with Heather along.
Besides, that woman had some explaining to do. From what he'd overheard outside of that house, she wasn't a normal, human female. And those men weren't just men. He'd gotten the same vibe from them that he'd gotten from the prince.
That feeling of familiarity came over him again. He racked his brain, thinking of every supernatural creature he'd ever seen, hoping something would come to him, but he couldn't think of anything that was capable of what the "prince" had done to him and Heather. As a matter of fact, he was positive that he'd never so much as heard of anything that could do that, except a witch. So there was no way he could've met this man before.
He wondered for the hundredth time what, exactly, the point was of sending them to this place. This challenge, or game, or whatever it was, couldn't be this easy. Something bad was going to happen. He could feel it.
His senses were on high alert as Heather's little cave came into sight through the fog. She was sitting in the entrance with her legs crossed in front of her and her chin in her hands. Wisps of her soft hair trailed in waves across her face. She swiped at it crossly. Her despondent sigh carried across the distance to him as she traced a pattern on her knee with her finger. He noticed she had pulled a rather large rock next to her and a snuffling sound, half amusement and half approval, came from his muzzle.
He sniffed the air and looked around. He didn't see or smell anything threatening, so he trotted up to the cave, not too fast so as not to spook her, and dropped his kill in the dirt by her foot.
His caution appeared to be unnecessary. She didn't appear frightened of him at all, but her welcoming smile quickly turned into a grimace as she glanced down at his offering. "What is that? Is that a cat?" she asked in horror. She shook her head hard. "Oh, hell no. I can't eat a cat."
Tilting his head, he looked at it, trying to see it through her eyes. He supposed it did look a bit like a short-tailed cat. Kind of like a skunk/woodchuck/cat…thing. A skoochat.
He picked up his clothes in his teeth and went far enough around the tree outside of the cave that she couldn't see, or hear, him. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to change back, gritting his teeth against the pain so she wouldn't hear.
Changing was never fun, but it was dangerous to stay in his wolf form for too long. The animal instincts would start to take over, his mind would stop thinking like a human and more and more like a lone predator at the top of the food chain, and he would become a danger to anything and anyone around him.
Including Heather.
He pulled on his shirt and pants and padded barefoot back to where she still sat staring at the skoochat. Trying not to laugh, he watched as she tentatively poked at it with a stick. Her cute little nose wrinkled up in repugnance and she threw the stick down.
"It doesn't taste bad," he said, trying to reassure her. "Kind of like chicken." He didn't add the "raw" part.
She jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, and her eyes ran over him. Looking for lingering remnants of fur he was sure, then she went back to eyeballing their breakfast. "For a big guy, you're awfully quiet when you walk."
Sitting down next to her, he pulled on his socks and his boots. "I was thinking we could hang out here for a while today. Get you fed. Strengthen you up a bit before we head back. You look exhausted."
"I told you, I'm not eating that."
He had to admit, it didn't look nearly as appetizing while in his human form. He was going to have to cook it this time.
He patted her thigh in sympathy, then he got up and started gathering some tinder and sticks that were lying inside the cave. Hopefully they were dry enough to get a fire going.
Heather stood up also. "What are you doing?" "Collecting firewood so we can cook the skoochat."
She crossed her arms over her ample chest. "I'm not eating that." "You need to eat, sunshine."
"I'll be fine."
"I know. Because you're going to eat. Be right back." He left her there to pout and jogged down to the stream. If he remembered correctly, he thought he'd seen some quartz rock just upstream a bit.
When he returned, Heather was sitting back down against the wall near his pile of sticks. She watched silently as he struck the rocks together until he created sparks, lighting the tinder.
He blew on it gently until a tiny fire appeared. Little by little, he fed the flame until he had a small, but strong, fire. Grabbing their breakfast, he stuck it on the end of a makeshift spit and held it over the flame.
Heather refused to watch, lowering her head onto her knees and covering her face with her arms.
But once the fur had burned off and the meat began to cook, an appetizing smell filled the little cave, making his mouth water in anticipation.
Heather's stomach growled loud enough to be heard back home and he had to bite back a smile.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her move closer to the fire little by little until she was sitting right next to him. He turned the meat a few more times just to tease her before pulling it out of the fire and blowing on it.
Taking a big bite, he closed his eyes as he chewed. "Mmm," he groaned, wiping off the grease with the back of his arm before it dripped into his beard. He took another bite, smacking his lips and watching her out of the corner of his eye.
She swallowed and licked her lips. "Aren't you gonna offer me some of that?" she asked.
"I thought you weren't eating it." "Maybe I changed my mind."
He thought about holding out a little longer, just to teach her a lesson, but he found that he just couldn't deny those big, hungry eyes.
He handed her the stick. "Here. You can have the rest."
"Thank you." She grabbed it from his hand and sank her teeth into the tender meat, ripping off a big chunk. Taking another bite before she'd even swallowed the first, she glanced up to find him watching her, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement.
A flush stole up her neck and onto her cheeks, and she dropped her eyes, taking a smaller bite and chewing slower this time.
He laughed. "Don't be embarrassed. It's good to see a woman eat like she means it."
"Yeah? Well, you'll love hanging around me, because as you can plainly see, I don't skip any meals." She patted her belly and grinned.
He didn't care for the implication she was making with that joke. Did she not know how attractive she was? She'd always come across to him as being so confident and sure of herself. Speaking out loud without really meaning to, Brock told her honestly, "Don't put yourself down like that. I think you're one of the sexiest women I've ever seen."
She stopped eating mid-chew and slowly raised her eyes to his. After a moment,
she covered her mouth with her hand. "What?" she asked from behind her palm.