It is…nice.

Claire glances over at the little tunics I am finishing, and a true smile returns to her face. “Those are so cute. Nora will love them.”

“Warrek has done a wonderful job,” I agree slyly. “He is a good gift-giver.”

“And you are sweet to help him,” Claire says with a squeeze on my arm. We both know he has been sucked into the blackness of despair since his father died. I know this feeling all too well, and it makes me feel good to help out. He will be himself again soon enough. Until then, I will assist how I can.

“I am done for now,” I tell her, knotting the last stitch and then biting the cord. “Shall we go see how the decorations are coming?”

“Probably a good idea. Let me finish these seeds and we can check on Josie.” She strings a little faster, and I fold up and hide the tiny tunics under a basket of dried tea leaves. Once Claire is done, we take the string and put on our wraps, heading to the center of the vee-lage. The weather is terrible, and Claire shivers and makes chattering noises the moment we step outside. I carry the strings of seeds so she can tuck her hands into her clothing, but it is cold even for me. There is a thin layer of ice on the stones, which makes them slippery, and we take our time picking our way across the vee-lage toward the long-howse. The air is frosty cold, and the wind howls above, snowflakes drifting down despite the protective lip of the gorge. From a distance, I can see the tall, thin stalk of the decorating tree sticking out from the roof of the long-howse. As we get closer, I can hear the excited chatter of people. Everyone is enjoying Claire’s No Poison celebrations, and I am proud of my friend for setting this all up. She has a good heart.

“I can hear Josie,” she muses as we approach the long-howse.

“It is impossible not to,” I retort. Jo-see is the most chattery of the humans, with a mouth that never stops moving and a high-pitched voice that seems to cut through the air. How her surly mate tolerates all that talking, I do not know, but Haeden seems blissfully content. Thinking of them and their happiness makes me think of my once-mate, Hemalo. I have not seen him in the last few days, and a pang of loneliness hits me. Is he enjoying the celebration? Is he pleased at making gifts for the healer? I hate that I care. I should not. He has abandoned me.

And yet I cannot stop my thoughts from turning to him, time and time again.

We enter the long-howse, and people are everywhere, laughing and talking. The tree that has been selected for decorating rests in a large basket, soil tucked around the bulbous root. It will be eaten on Feast Day, and until then, the tree will be laden with garlands and ornaments and colorful fluttering disks made of hard leather or papery tree bark. Jo-see is near the center of it all, holding little Esha up so she can adjust a string of colorful seeds on one of the thin, wobbly branches. Clumps of poison plants have been hung from the ceiling, and underneath one, Mah-dee kisses her mate with enthusiasm. More poison leaves are strung up on sinew cords, fluttering as they are hung from the rafters. Nearby, others in the tribe make garlands and laugh together, and several of the hunters are stringing even more garlands around the lodge and Tee-fa-ni’s potted plants. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. I do not see the appeal, and I think the tree looks terrible with so many things piled atop it, but humans have strange traditions that make them happy, so I go along with it.

Claire claps her mittens together happily at the sight of the ugly tree covered in even uglier decorations. “It looks so great!”

“Doesn’t it?” Leezh comes up beside us, tossing her yellow mane. “I feel like Cindy Lou Who in the center of Whoville post-Grinch!”

“What?” I blink at the humans.

“Nothing,” Claire says with a laugh. She hugs my arm. “Just Liz saying crazy things like usual.”

Leezh does tend to say strange things. “Where is your mate?” I ask Claire. “Shall we find him?”

She searches the busy groups, and then points off into the corner. “There, hanging garlands with Lila and Rokan.” She lights up at the sight of him and looks over at me. “Should we give him our garland while they’re busy?”

I wordlessly hand it over to her, biting back my smile. Claire is a good friend, but she is still in the early days of her mating and is always pulled away by the thought of her mate. I do not mind this. I was like this once, I think.

Then I frown to myself. All of my memories of Hemalo and I in a cave together are unpleasant ones, of me sniping at him or making angry comments. Of him trying to please me and me pushing away his help. Maybe I was never like that, after all. Perhaps I was never a good mate. I feel sad at the thought. Perhaps it is good that Hashala never got to see her parents like this. A mating should be for life, and I drove my mate away with my bitterness.

I watch Claire cross the long-howse with the garland. Leezh sidles up next to me, a curious look in her eyes. “So where is your mate, Asha?”

I scowl at her. “He left me. You know this.”

She shrugs, unruffled by my angry tone. “All I know is that you’re looking at Claire and Ereven like they’re cake and you’re on a diet. And I’m thinking maybe you’re working too hard to convince yourself that you hate Hemalo.”

“You think I hate him? He abandoned me.”

“You pushed him away.” She lifts her shoulders again in another small, careless shrug. “I’m not going to say being mated to Raahosh is nothing but daisies and kittens. Sometimes you have to make a relationship work. And I’m just saying maybe you should have tried a little harder. He lost his kit, too, you know.”

Anger burns in my gut, and I am filled with the sudden urge to scratch her smirking human eyes out. But Leezh is carrying a child in her belly, and her mate stands nearby holding their small daughter and talking to the chief and his mate. She is bold with her words, but she is needed by them. And I somehow feel that if I defended myself…no one would take my side. They would just shake their heads at sad, angry Asha.

This day is ruined for me. “You do not know of what you speak, Leezh.”

“Then tell me,” she says in a soft voice. “Help me understand and maybe I can help you, too. I’m not trying to be a bitch, Asha. I just see you unhappy and I want to help.”

“I do not want your help,” I snap at her, and turn on my foot, leaving behind the happy celebration. Let the others celebrate No Poison Day. I am retreating to my howse, where it is quiet and safe and no one will bother me.

I storm across the vee-lage, but once I leave the long-howse, it is quiet. Everyone is gathered there, enjoying the day. I am happy for Claire that things are going so well, but I no longer want to be part of it. I just want to hide again. I want my blankets and I want to not think about the once-mate that I have hurt or the kit I have lost. I do not want to think about anything right now.

Leezh can sympathize with Hemalo, but I cannot forget that he abandoned me. He left me. I needed him and he gave up on me. Thinking of him hurts, and I am so tired of feeling as if I am the one constantly in the wrong. Why does no one see that I am in pain, too? That just because I do not cry prettily like the humans or give everyone sad eyes, I am not walking with an open wound in my chest where my heart should be? Why can I not wear my pain differently? But no, because Hemalo has left me alone, I am somehow the flawed one. I am the problem.

I swipe aside the privacy flap to my howse and storm inside. Because my thoughts are full of Hemalo, it is somehow unsurprising to see him there inside. His back is to me, and he stands over my furs, gazing up at the teepee ceiling. His hands are on his hips, and his tail flicks in that restless, constant way of his. I suddenly remember lying in bed with him, laughing because his tail flicks so much, and so often I would tease him that I would never be able to sleep.