Chapter 11

162 10 4
                                    

Mitch did not come when I called. I backed up a little, not sure how to react. I am no bacca, so I can not play like a bacca, especially with a bacca five times my size. Jerome finally realized this, and relaxed. He flopped down next to me, and his head hit the ground with a dull thud in between his paws.

"Sir, how old on average do baccas live?"

He lifted his head. "Why?"

"I was just curious... I am sorry sir."

"No, it was fine. In my years?"

"Yes sir."

"200?"

"And how old are you, sir?"

"44. Why?"

"It just seems outrageous that you already have a white muzzle. I am sorry sir."

"It is no problem, Preston," I flinched, not used to being adressed directly by name, "just be careful who you ask if you ask more than just me, okay?"

"Yes sir. Where did Mitchell go?"

"He left to collect dinner for you and himself. He knew you would not last in the rain, so he charged himself with the task to spare you."

"That was very thoughtful of him. Remind me to thank him, please."

"I will."

"Sir, I am just curious, but do you not need a mate? From what I have seen in the pack, you have been stalked by nearly every female here."

He rolled his eyes at me.

"They donor understand my personal values, nor will they ever begin to understand. They are dumber than a bunch of rocks when it comes to values. And yes, I will eventually need a mate."

"Oh. What values do you have? Do you have someone in mind already?"

"I have one in mind already. It will be greatly disliked by the pack, but I do not care. It is my life, not theirs."

"But your life affects the pack. Sir...-"

"Stop." He growled.

I stopped as told. I shrunk down into the jacket.

"My apologies sir. I was too bold and demanding."

"You are forgiven. But do not push me like that again. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

From the den entrance, I could hear Mitch return.

"Dinner's up, Preston."

"Thank you! I greatly appreciate it."

Jerome loped to the outside, calling out behind himself.

"I will be back shortly."

Mitch sat down next to me with a basket of various fruits and vegetables. He hair was dripping wet, and it had been flattened by the rain, making the spiky front flop over in a funny way. He handed me a smaller basket.

"There you go. The rest is for the next few days. I'm gonna be vegetarian while I'm here, k?"

"Okay. And thank you for sparing me and getting the food."

"It was no biggie. I didn't want you getting hurt just to eat. It seemed wrong."

We ate in peaceful silence, and when I finished, I had curled up for a nap again when Jerome came back. He was soaked, his fur dripping and looking darker from the water. He was carrying his catch- a freshly killed hare.

I felt a little weird looking at it, and fell asleep, disoriented and feeling sick to my stomach.

 Lost Amongst ManyWhere stories live. Discover now