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As they both tested the wind and continued scanning the land for signs of an intruder, Tarkyn frowned, trying to imagine what these creatures must look like.

“Are they dangerous?” he asked quietly.

“Not usually,” Harth said with a shrug. “Not to us. They see us as... cousins. They worked with us against the humans when they could. But they are different. They keep themselves mostly isolated from us-and as far from the humans as they could. I don’t know how they’ll feel being here if they’ve caught any sign of the humans from your war. Or... I assume they could scent the differences between Anima and humans. But I really don’t know. I haven’t spent much time with them, and every one is different.”

Her forehead crinkled with worry.

Tarkyn stepped forward, his face to the wind, examining the high sides of the ravine and mountains around them that formed this bowl. If something was up there, watching them...

“You’re safe here!” he called, then waited in case there was a reply. “We’ll do you no harm. We’re visiting for a few days...” he trailed off, feeling odd speaking to the hills.

But Harth was searching the highlands around them too.

The wind brought no new or increasing scent, and no sound.

.....

There was no sense of eyes on them. It was entirely possible the creature was a mile or more away and simply emitting a pungent scent.

Eventually Tarkyn shook his head. “I don’t see anything. I think if there is something out there, we should just... leave it.”

“Him,” Harth said quietly. When he looked at her, she emphasized it. “Him. They’re always hims. Always male. That’s part of why it’s so hard for them. They’re all different and none of them can have offspring. They’re like mules.”

“Mules. I feel like Elia told me of those before. From the human world?”

Harth nodded. “When horses and donkeys breed, they have strong, healthy offspring. But the offspring are barren. They can’t reproduce.” She looked up into the hills again. “They’re destined to die alone.”

Tarkyn could feel the darkness weighing on her. It was instinct to touch, to pull her into his chest and hold her. She folded into his arms easily and both of them sighed.

“It scares me, Tarkyn. We could end up... we could have a child like that.”

“Or no child at all. Don’t let yourself be buried under the possible, Love. We have enough happening without question, we don’t need to borrow trouble.”

“But-”

“Harth,” he pulled back, holding her shoulders and staring down at her. “I am blessed to have been around some of the most wonderful families. And I can tell you, even as an outsider it’s clear: The most important thing in a child’s life is love.”

Harth blinked. “I... I mean I know that. But I never had that as a child. Not until I was released to live with the clans when I was a little older. And even then... I saw the few who were raised by parents. I envied them.”

He stroked her hair. “Our child, if we are blessed with one, will be envied. Because they will be loved deeply by both of us, and never rejected.”

“But the people-”

“I wish you could have been here a year ago, Harth. I wish you could have seen our Queen... she only became Queen because of her defense of those under oppression, did you know that?”

Harth tilted her head, frowning. “No. What happened?”

He told her then, about the Anima, and the percentage of them who’d been born unable to shift. They were held in the tribes, but always viewed with suspicion by some. “Her King, Aaryn is one of them.”

“But... he has a wolf! I can smell it!”

“He does now. But it wasn’t always that way. It’s a long story-but know this, Harth. Elreth has always thrown the best of herself, all of her strength, into the protection of others. Her mother was the same way-compassionate, and daring. Unwilling to bend to the preferences of society. Elreth challenged her own father when he threatened to separate the disformed-that’s what we called them then-to maintain peace in the tribes.

“She fought her own father for dominance to save those who couldn’t stand for themselves. And then she brought them together... They were crucial to our success... to our salvation...” He swallowed the pinch in his throat as his mind flooded with images of Reth and Elia, and Gahrye and...

Harth squeezed his arms and watched him, worried.

He forced himself to smile. “You have not seen the best of our Queen, Harth,” he said quietly. “I promise you. If you had met her before... before all this loss and fear... you would love her. And I know she’ll return to that heart. And I know-I am utterly certain-that if we were to have a child who was different, she would stand in defense of them every day until there was no question that they were a part of us. Elreth is many things-and flawed with them-but she is first and foremost a fighter for the weak or defenseless.” He blew out a breath. “Trust me. If we have a child who is different, we will love them, and they will be... valued here.”

Harth smiled and pulled him down into a kiss. “Thank you,” she whispered against his lips. “Thank you for always making me feel stronger.” She pulled away for just a moment, her eyes shining now with joy. “Thank you for loving, Tarkyn. Thank you for not holding yourself away from it even after the pain you’ve had. I... I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Tarkyn gave a small, happy hum when her tongue flickered out to taste his. Inhaling deeply, he wrapped her in his arms and walked her backwards until she came up against the trunk of the tree.

All the drama of the moment, all the heaviness of the issues fell away as he sought her mouth and stroked his hands up her sides, under her shirt, his thumbs stroking her stomach as he found the form of her waist, and she arched into his touch, giving a breathless laugh when she sucked on his tongue and he growled.