~ SASHA ~
The dining area—Yhet had called it the Trough, but that felt just a little too… animalistic to Sasha for such a normal space.
Well, almost normal.
It was a true clearing—no trees at all. There were cook fires at both ends, each bracketed by thick, green, forked branches stuck in the ground. A pole swung between them, the thick body of what looked like a massive chicken to Sasha, threaded over it. A young male stood next to each one, turning the roast, and tending the fire.
It smelled like barbeque.
The space between the two fires was peppered with tables, benches, and some individual chairs. And the entire span was covered overhead by what seemed to be tree branches, but branches tied together like a massive blanket laid over a central line that crossed the whole space.
It made a natural roof, a guard from sun or rain.
She sat at the table where Yhet had pointed, keeping her eyes down on the tabletop and her hands in her lap. She was determined not to look at anyone. She wouldn't even listen to their conversations so there was no chance she'd be distracted and look up or speak to someone. She'd apologized to Yhet as soon as Lhars disappeared. But even though he'd given her a sad smile and squeezed her shoulder gently, she had the distinct feeling that he was even more frustrated than her.
A plate appeared under her nose then, held by fingers so thick they seemed like sausages—and made the plate look like a child's toy. But as soon as the steam rising off the thinly sliced meat hit her nose, she realized how hungry she was.
"Thank you!" she said, then looked around for silverware… only to come up blank.
She sat at a wooden table that reminded her of a picnic table because of the benches either side. But there was nothing on the weathered tabletop, or in Yhet's hands.
She watched as the man took the bench across the table from her, pulled it feet away from the table, and then sat down, his long knees pinched up against the tabletop.
Without noticing her confusion, he dropped a cloth on the table next to each of their plates, took one of the thin slices of meat in his fingers, wrapped it around a long, green vegetable that looked like a flat green bean to Sasha, then opened his mouth and took the whole thing, chewing with gusto, his lips smacking.
"I do love Parritch!" he said around the mouthful. "Have you tried it before?"
Sasha shook her head, but followed his example and wrapped a piece of the meat around one of the beans, and took a tentative bite.
Surprising flavors burst on her tongue—not unlike chicken, though stronger and sweeter, or maybe that was from the crunchy bean? She wasn't sure. All she knew was that as soon as she put food in her mouth, her body suddenly ached for more, her stomach growling audibly so that Yhet grinned and motioned towards her plate with his next roll of meat and bean.
"Sounds like we should have fed you earlier," he said with a grin. "Next time tell me if you're hungry. I can get you something."
"I'm fine," she reassured him around her own mouthful. "I just skipped breakfast this morning.
He opened his mouth to respond—by the look of his grin, to tease her—when there was a guttural snarl, followed by a quick yelp on the other side of the dining area.
Sasha's head snapped around instinctively. Yhet was on his feet, the bench falling down behind him, and the sound of many bodies rising from their seats echoed around the space.
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Sasha wanted to curse—she couldn't see past all these tall men! "Yhet, what's—"
"Shhhhh, Zev's found one already," Yhet whispered.
"Zev?" Her voice was far higher than it should have been, but she immediately started around the table, heading for the other side of the dining area where she'd heard the noise. But Yhet didn't even have to take a step to reach past the end of the table and catch her arm.
"You won't help him by being close enough to distract him, Sasha," Yhet rumbled, tugging her back to his side of the table. "And you won't help yourself by acknowledging him before he's climbed high enough. If you give him space now, the lower level males will believe they have a chance with you."
Sasha looked in the direction where the noise had come from. Oddly, all the males that had leaped up from their chairs, were settling back down, turning their backs… ignoring whatever had caught their attention.
"What are they doing?"
"Zev's caught the lowest ranking wolf and forced him to see him," Yhet breathed, nudging her back down to sit on the bench on his side. "Now the male has to either fight him or submit."
Enough of the men had sat by then that Sasha peered around to see if she could catch a glimpse of him, her heart aching to be close to him—it would be such a relief.
But Yhet gave her a flat look and turned her back to face the table so her back was to that side of the clearing. "You can't acknowledge him yet," he said, kindly but firmly. "Don't worry, he's not going to fall to these wolves."
"Wolves? They're fighting as wolves?"
Yhet shrugged. "They'll fight in whatever form they choose. But Zev has to force his pack to accept him before he can dominate the other Chimera. So he starts with the wolves." His eyes unfocused for a moment as if he were relying on his hearing. Then he gave a small smile and nodded, returning to his food.
"Be happy, Sasha. The male has submitted. Zev won't even have to fight him."
Yhet took another large bit of meat and beans. Sasha found her appetite suddenly gone. "Can I look for him now?"
"No," Yhet said, shaking his head so his hair fluttered around his shoulders. "Not until he's taken the wolf-Alpha."
Sasha sighed and picked at her food, her ears peeled for any sign or sound of Zev. But the men around them had started talking again and there was too much noise for her to make anything out. Her heart dropped.
"Who's the wolf Alpha?" she asked quietly after a few moments and only one mouthful of food.
Yhet sighed and his lips twisted. "Lhars," he said tightly. "Zev will have to fight his brother to take Alpha of the pack if he wants to regain his rank."
Of course it was Lhars. Of course it was.
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