Odette woke up hungry.
That was the first thing she understood.
Not pain.
Not fear.
Not Rauvan.
Hunger.
Her stomach cramped so badly she almost curled into herself on the hide.
For a few breaths she only lay there, blinking at the root roof above her, trying to remember where she was and why everything smelled like saber-tooth male, herbs, old smoke, and blood.
Then everything came back.
Thorn Hollow.
The baboons.
Rauvan carrying her.
Rauvan washing her.
Rauvan under her body.
Odette’s face went hot so fast she wanted to bury herself under the hide and die there quietly.
No.
No, she was not thinking about that now.
She sat up too fast and immediately regretted it.
Her head spun, and one hand flew to the side of her neck.
The wound was still there, but it did not hurt as badly.
Her crushed hand was swollen, but she could move her fingers.
Her ribs still ached, but the pain was dull now, not sharp enough to steal her breath.
That was strange.
She should not have healed this much.
How long had she been asleep?
Odette looked around the shelter.
Rauvan was not there.
Good.
Great.
Wonderful.
She could embarrass herself alone, thank you.
A folded piece of hide lay near her feet.
She stared at it.
It was new.
Not soft in a pretty way, but clean, stitched with rough fiber and cut to fit a female’s body.
There was a short hide wrap for her chest, another for her waist and hips, and a longer strip that could be tied over one shoulder if she wanted more covering.
It was not beautiful, but it was better than the torn bloody thing she had been wearing.
Odette touched it slowly.
Someone had brought her clothes.
Her chest tightened a little, and she hated that too.
She did not want to feel grateful.
Gratitude was dangerous.
It made people soft toward the wrong beasts.
Still, she picked it up and pulled it on.
Her fingers were clumsy at first, but she managed to tie the chest wrap and waist hide without falling over, which she decided was already a victory.
Then her stomach cramped again.
She needed food.
She also needed water.
And she badly needed to wash.
Odette stood on shaky legs and stepped out of Rauvan’s shelter.
The resting ground was not fully awake yet.
The sky was still gray, and wet leaves clung to the roots after the night mist.
Some beastmen were sleeping in their beast forms under trees.
A few females were already awake, feeding cubs, tying bundles, or checking wounds.
Two young males sharpening bone blades stopped the moment they saw her.
Then another female looked.
Then another.
Soon too many eyes were on her.
Odette froze for half a breath.
They were staring at her as if she had crawled out of Rauvan’s shelter with a second head.
What now?
Did they always stare like this, or was she just special enough to be hated by strangers too?
She forced herself to move before the silence became worse.
Her legs still felt weak, but she kept her back straight as she walked.
She could feel eyes on her hair, her face, her body, her throat, and the faint mark hidden at the back of her neck beneath her hair.
No one spoke.
That somehow felt worse.
Odette found the washing place by following the smell of cold water.
It was not a river, not fully.
More like a wide stone pool fed by a narrow stream that slipped between tree roots and black rocks.
Mist sat low over the surface, and small white insects skated over the water.
The place was empty, which was the first good thing that had happened to her since she opened her eyes.
Finally.
She undressed quickly and stepped into the water.
Cold struck her skin so sharply she gasped.
Then she started washing.
Mud came off first.
Then dried blood.
Then old leaf stains.
She scrubbed her arms, her throat, her chest, her stomach, her legs, and the dried blood near her injured knee.
The water around her turned brown, then red, then slowly clearer.
Her hair took the longest.
She had to drag her fingers through tangled silver-white strands again and again until bits of leaves floated away.
The back of her neck tingled when she washed there.
Odette paused.
Her hair usually covered that place.
Thorn Hollow females used to say she had a strange little mark there, but no one could see it clearly unless her hair was lifted.
Her mother had always told her not to let others stare at it too long.
Back then, Odette thought her mother was just being strange.
Now she was not so sure.
A branch cracked.
Odette went still.
Her head lifted.
Every muscle in her body tightened at once.
Someone was watching her.
She knew it the way prey knew the air had changed.
The small insects stopped skating near the far rock.
The birds above quieted.
Even the water seemed too loud against her skin.
Odette turned sharply.
Nothing.
Only trees, moss, roots, and gray mist.
She stared for a long moment, heart beating hard.
Maybe she was being paranoid.
After everything that happened, who would not be?
She climbed out of the water and moved toward the rock where she had left the new hides.
Then a male voice said, “You are such a unique female.”
Odette almost screamed.
She grabbed the hide and spun toward the sound, one arm pressing the clothing against her body while her other hand searched uselessly for a weapon that was not there.
A male sat on a tree branch above her.
A hyena beastman.
But not like the hyena males who had attacked Thorn Hollow.
This one was alone.
That was the first wrong thing.
Hyenas were rarely alone.
The second wrong thing was that he was smiling down at her as if he had been there for a long time and found her reaction amusing.