On the other side of the village, Lin Ming sat alone in the hut she shared with the rest of her group and ran her hand across the jaguar pelt over and over. Harwood and the others were off doing something else, but she’d needed some time to process what happened and the professor had understood. Lin was having trouble wrapping her mind around the fact that someone, a man, did this for her. I am nothing special, though, she thought. Why me, when Bonnie and Krupa and Gabby have so much that I lack? She looked down at her small breasts, those twin perpetual sources of insecurity. Am I really so beautiful in this man’s eyes that he would hunt such a dangerous creature for me?

Apparently so. But now what? Was she supposed to give a gift in return? Was she expected to do or say something? She had very little idea how courtship among the Aiwaha worked. She didn’t even know what her suitor looked like.

And yet, here was excitement beneath all the layers of uncertainty and anxiety she was feeling. Lin Ming had never been in a relationship before. She’d never even kissed a boy before. And now…

She remembered seeing Aiwaha girls fucking in public and shivered, though whether in arousal or fear, she couldn’t tell. What if her mysterious suitor wanted to take her that way? Adjusting to being naked all the time was hard enough, let alone doing such things out in the open! Would he be angry if she refused him?

Did she want to refuse him?

He certainly liked her enough to go kill an apex predator by himself with nothing more than a stone-bladed spear. And yet, the thought of losing her virginity to a man she barely knew was terrifying, to say nothing of having sex in the open like so many Aiwaha girls did. Add to that the fact that Lin Ming had very little idea of how romantic relationships actually worked--and she would have to leave him behind when the time came to go back to the U.S. and resume her schooling. Was it worth getting entangled with an Aiwaha man, perhaps even falling in love with him, if it meant having to part with him eventually?

Lin Ming took a deep breath and let it out, a little at a time, and wished yet again that Dana was here. She missed her friend greatly and her advice would be sorely welcome right now. What would her roommate say if she were there?

She would say that I am overthinking it, Lin thought. She would tell me not to be so serious, that I can...I can have fun with this man without getting too...attached. She would say that it would be good for me to be with a man who is so experienced in...sexual...matters, and that I deserved to enjoy myself while I am here.

Slowly, she nodded. Yes, that is exactly what she would say. Dana always takes everything in stride. It was a trait she envied.

Lin Ming felt her resolve solidify. I will see where it goes, and whatever the outcome, I will be content with it. She remembered, once again, seeing the Aiwaha women having sex and how much they seemed to enjoy it. Would this mystery man hold her the way the girls’ partners had? Would he make her feel beautiful and special? Would he be gentle with her?

Her petite body shook from head to toe as she imagined herself actually doing it. Never before had Lin Ming even contemplated such a thing. Not under her father’s roof, and not after coming to the U.S. for the exchange student program. For the first time, she felt like she was starting to become aware of herself in the way Aisha and Krupa and Dana and even Bonnie were.

Though I do not think I will ever be like Bonnie, she thought with a nervous giggle. Lin remember how the blonde had looked, getting railed by three guys at a time earlier that day, and how she’d clearly reveled in it. Her cheeks reddened and she pushed the mental image aside. Nor do I think I will ever be ready for something like that!

Lin Ming wasn’t the only girl in Tlacloban wrestling with complicated feelings that afternoon. Metztli too was brooding in her hut, watching over her four small children even as her mind was elsewhere.

Isaiah was nothing. Less than nothing. He was a weak, soft, spoiled, coddled foreigner who couldn’t survive five minutes in the jungle, not even if she gave him a bow, a spear, a torch, and three days of food. He was slow and clumsy and easily cowed by other, bigger males. And yet, for all her attempts to the contrary, the more time she spent with him, the more she found herself drawn to him. She felt an almost overpowering compulsion to protect him, and an equally powerful craving for his touch and his body whenever they were together. She’d hoped that a few rounds of casual sex with him would cure her of such foolish emotions, but instead they’d only grown stronger!

It didn’t help that he was so cute. She called him Rabbit for a reason, and with his bright blue eyes, tousled red hair, and trusting nature, he really was innocent like one of the little furry creatures. Innocent, and far too sweet for his own good. Metztli curled her lip, disgusted with herself.

And yet, she couldn’t help but think of him when she lay awake at night, the weight of her breasts pressed against her palms, the heat between her legs making her squirm as she touched herself. She thought of his hands, strong despite their softness, and the way they would touch her, as if he truly cared about her. Isaiah was the first man she’d fucked who’d seemed so interested in her well-being. Among the Aiwaha, sex was a passionate, heated thing--hungry and hot, sometimes downright frenzied. But coupling with Isaiah had been different. He was gentle and kind to her, at least until she’d told him to cut it out and take her more forcefully during their sexual encounter earlier.

But to Metztli’s shock, she’d found she actually liked Isaiah’s way more. Sex with her own people was great and fun, but sex with Isaac didn’t feel like just sex, something to do in her spare time or do casually when she felt the need. It felt...special. More, it made her feel special.

Metztli had never felt special to anyone before.

Her people, the Aiwaha, were a proud and strong tribe, and they didn’t take kindly to weakness. Isaiah was everything they despised. He was pale and small, weak in body and mind. He was slow and clumsy, always needing someone to protect him. And yet, for all his faults, she found herself wanting him. Wanting to be with him, to touch him, to feel his warm body pressed against hers and his cock deep inside her. As she watched her three daughters and her son laugh and play, Metztli felt a sinking feeling settle in her gut.

I am falling for him. Gods help me.

The thought washed over Metztli like a chill breeze, unbidden and unwelcome.

She hated herself for feeling this way. Hated Isaiah for making her feel this way even as she felt drawn to him more and more. But there was no denying the truth of it. She was falling for him, falling more for him every time they were in each other’s company, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Metztli clenched her teeth so hard they creaked.

The worst part was that she knew deep down that he felt the same way about her. She could see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch, taste it in his kiss. He looked up to her, admired her, thought of her as a strong, confident, powerful woman. He was also frightened of her, and that was also good, but the way he gazed at her body whenever he saw her...

Metztli felt her heart ache with a mixture of joy and despair. Joy that someone could feel so strongly for her, despair that it was him. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right, and she wondered what she had done to displease the gods so much that they would inflict such misfortune upon her.

She knew she had to end it, had to put a stop to these feelings before they consumed her completely. But she couldn’t. She, too, was weak in that regard. She couldn’t step away from him, and even if she could, she didn’t want to. Deep down, Metztli knew the truth: she wanted to be with him for as long as possible.

Tears of impotent rage beaded in her eyes and she clenched her hands into white-knuckled fists. Her children, seeing her distress, ran to her and gathered round. Two of her daughters clambered into her lap, while her son and her other daughter hugged her, burying their faces in her sides.

<“What’s wrong, Mama?”> the little boy, Azti, asked. <“Please don’t cry!”>

Metztli forced a smile, wiping away her tears and hugging her children close. <“Oh, nothing, my little ones. I just...I just had a bad thought, that’s all. I will be okay.”> It was a lie, but sometimes parents could not tell their children everything.

<“Can we make you feel better, Mama?”> asked one of her girls, Kizu. <“Please, please don’t be sad. We love you.”>

Metztli kissed her daughter’s forehead and smiled, forcing a cheerful tone into her voice. <“Yes, my little ones, you can always make me feel better. Mama is fine, I promise.”>

<“Is it because of the red-haired foreigner?”> another of her daughters, Itzli, inquired with a scowl. Of all her children, Itztli took after her mother most when it came to temperament. <“If he has upset you, I will kill him.”>

Metztli chuckled and ruffled the girl’s hair. <“No, no, my fierce cub,”> she lied softly. <“It is not him that has upset me. I was just...thinking about something else.”>

The truth was that she couldn’t tell her children about her feelings for Isaiah. They were too young, too innocent. They would never understand the complicated emotions swirling inside her, not at their age.

I must speak with Kura, Metztli decided. I can count on her to keep this in confidence, and she is wise. She will know what to do. Perhaps she can cure me of this...weakness of heart.

Please, gods, she prayed silently. Let it be so.

That prayer was still on her lips early the following morning when Metztli walked through the silent, empty streets of still-sleeping Tlacloban to the hut where Kura lived. The old wise-woman was sitting cross-legged on the ground, weaving a basket from reeds, her wrinkled hands moving deftly as if they were much younger than they truly were. A small fire crackled nearby, casting dancing shadows across the walls of the hut.

<"I've been expecting you,"> she said, without looking up.

Metztli didn't know how Kura knew she'd be coming to see her and did not try to ask. She wasn't surprised, either. Kura simply knew things, many things, most things. Sometimes she even spoke of events that had not yet happened, though this did not happen often. The last time Kura spoke of the future had been shortly before Dr. Harwood stumbled into the Aiwaha territory for the very first time.

Metztli was a proud huntress, but Kura was one of the few in Tlacloban before whom she would stand contrite. She bowed her head respectfully to the old woman. <"I come seeking guidance. I wish--">

Kura cut her off with a cackle. <"You wish to ask for my help in ridding yourself of your feelings for the outlander boy. True?">

Metztli did not even try to deny it. <"Yes.">

"Why?" Kura asked.

The question stopped Metztli in her tracks. <"It is not important.">

<"It is to me. If you wish for my help, answer the question.">

Metztli took a deep breath, forcing herself to be honest. <"I fear for my people, my family, and our traditions. I have spent my life training to be the best huntress I could be, to protect our way of life. And now, I find myself distracted by... by a red-haired boy from a foreign land. It is not right.">

<"Why?"> Kura asked again.

<"Because he is weak!"> Metztli blurted, her frustration growing. <"He is an outsider, a foreigner. He does not understand our ways, our traditions. He is so easily frightened it makes me sick to my stomach. He would not last a minute outside this village, not on his own. He is weak, and I am strong. It is not right that I should feel this way about him. He is beneath me.">

Kura gave a soft chuckle, and Metztli glanced up at her, annoyed. <"What is so funny?">

<"Has it ever occurred to you, Metztli, that there is more than one kind of strength?"> Kura asked.

Metztli frowned. <"What do you mean?">

<"You look at the red-haired boy and see a weak, helpless foreigner who knows nothing of our ways and cannot survive in the same place our people have thrived for so many generations. Would you like to know what I see when I look at him?">

Kura paused, taking a sip of water from a gourd beside her. Metztli waited, her heart pounding in anticipation of the old woman's words. <"I see a young man who, of his own free will, undertook a very long, very exhausting, and very perilous journey to come to us," the storyteller said. <“I see a young man who knows little of us and our ways right now, but has exhibited a willingness to learn--unlike so many others of his kind, I might add. He may never completely understand all that our traditions mean to us, but he still shows respect for them and an eagerness to understand. And consider this as well: the boy might be out of his element here, but if the situation was turned on its head, if you had gone to his homeland rather than him and his friends coming to ours, how well do you think you would adjust to it? How quickly do you think you would feel at home in that alien world of metal towers and great machines? If that were the case, it might be him looking down at you rather than the other way around. The foreigner boy has strength, but it is strength of the heart and spirit, not of the flesh.">

Metztli listened to Kura's words, feeling a growing mix of confusion and even a little guilt. She had never considered things from this perspective before. The old woman had a point, dammit. <"Yet even so," she finally said. <"It is not...it is not proper. If I let myself feel the way I do about him, it would be like betraying everything I have ever known. I would be turning my back on our traditions, our ways. I would be spitting in the face of our ancestors, and besides that, how can I be the best huntress in Tlacloban if I'm with him? How can I focus on hunting fresh meat if I'm always having to keep an eye on him?">

Kura cocked her head. <"None of these concerns stopped you from wanting to bear his child.">

<"That was different,"> Metztli insisted. <"I am still young and strong enough to give our people another child to continue our tribe onwards, and I have only borne one son as yet. The idea of having a son with the outlander's red hair appealed to me, but nothing more than that. Feelings did not play into it.">

<"Are you sure?">

<"Of course.">

<"Ah, my dear,"> Kura said, shaking her head. <"You are a clever girl, Metztli, but you are still young and inexperienced. You can track even the cleverest game for miles, yet you fail to notice what is right underneath your nose. Truly, the gods do enjoy their jests. Certainly, they must be laughing heartily right now.">

The young woman frowned. <"What do you mean?"> she asked, not quite able to keep the defensiveness out of her voice. <"Speak plainly.">

<"I mean that you are fooling yourself! Of course feelings played into it. You would not have wanted his child in you otherwise. It may have begun simply as physical desire, but now it has grown into something more. Tell me I am wrong, Metztli.">

Metztli wanted to. Gods, she wanted to. But somehow, the words could not make it past her lips. Somehow, she found herself mute.

<"And these feelings are not something you can quash,"> Kura went on. <"Try all you might, you will not succeed in smothering them. What you have come here to ask of me is impossible, and even if it were not, I would refuse to do it. Metztli, your feelings for the boy are not something to be ashamed of. Do you think your ancestors would be angry at you for finding happiness? Do you think the gods would condemn you for it? If anything, I suspect they would be pleased.">

The old woman paused, gathering her thoughts. <"What you must understand, Metztli, is that our traditions are not absolute laws to be obeyed blindly. They are the distilled wisdom of countless generations of our people, a way of life that has served us well for thousands of years. But they are not set in stone, nor should they be. They must be able to adapt, to change with the times, and so must our people. The world beyond our homeland is growing smaller. The blank edges of the map have all been filled in. We cannot hide from the world forever, no matter how much we might wish to. And if our people are to survive, we must find a way to live in harmony with it. To embrace the change that is coming, rather than fear it. Your feelings for the boy give you a wonderful opportunity to do this, to bring both worlds together. That way, when the foreigners come to us again--and they will--we can hold up your relationship as proof that their people and ours can find common ground and understanding.">

<"So by taking him as mine, I will be helping our people?"> Metztli asked. <"Truly?"> It was an encouraging thought. Any task was made easier and any challenge more conquerable if she knew her people would benefit by it.

Kura smiled, her face softening. <"Yes, my dear. By taking him as your own, you will be helping our people in ways you cannot yet imagine. Remember: the foreigners bring not just their customs, but their knowledge as well. Isaiah may know things our people would benefit from learning. He may prove, in the end, very valuable to us. Already Naka-Mur has said that we have learned much of value from our contact with the outside world. Who is to say what Isaiah may bring to the table?">

She leaned in a little. <"But there is another reason you are so hesitant, isn't there? It is all right, child. You can say it.">

Metztli took a long, shuddering breath. <"I am afraid,"> she whispered. The words tasted like bile on her tongue. <"I am afraid of what will happen if I give in to these feelings. What if I am not strong enough to balance both worlds? What if I fail, and in doing so, I bring harm to my people, to myself, to him? What if I open myself up to him, only for him to scorn me or change his mind?"> She looked away, ashamed. <"The foreigner's weakness is exceeded by my own. I should not be afraid of anything!">

Kura smiled kindly. <"I understand your fears, child. I cannot say what will be--">

<"Yes, you can!"> Metztli said, unable to help her outburst. <"You see everything! You even knew the foreigners would come before they arrived! The gods show you what will happen!">

<"They show me such things when they see fit to do so,"> Kura corrected her gently. <"I do not decide what I am shown or when. I am merely their instrument. But Metztli, you must have more faith in yourself than this. You are a beautiful young woman and a skilled huntress, and you have always been one to embrace a new challenge. How can you know the gods have not placed this outlander boy in your path as a new form of test, or even a reward for how loyally and devotedly you have served our people?">

The old woman leaned forward, her eyes intent. <"You are right to be afraid too, child. There is no guarantee that you will succeed. But there is also no guarantee that you will fail. You, of all people, should know that you miss all the shots you do not take. And even if you do fail, if it all comes crashing down around you, then you must pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep moving forward. Do not let your fear of failure become your master. It is only when you truly embrace the possibility of loss that you can truly find true happiness, because nothing of true worth or value is obtained without the risk of losing it. Your fears are nothing to be ashamed of--only if you let them rule over you will you have cause to feel ashamed. But if you ask me, I think you and the boy were brought together for a reason. You should go to him, and let yourself feel what you feel.">

Her tone grew stern, then. <"And mark well what I say next: if you deny your feelings, if you try to smother them, they will fester and rot inside you, poisoning not only your heart but also your mind. You will wonder for all your days what might have been, and it will gnaw at you from the inside out until you are hollow, all hollow inside. It is better to have tried and failed than not to have even made the attempt at all. So my advice, simply put, is this: do what your heart tells you is right. Listen to what it tells you. Follow it. Look to see the foreign boy's strength, rather than his weakness. And leave all else, as always, to the will of the gods.">

Metztli listened stoically, her expression grim. <"Do you...have any advice on how to...make him feel fondness for me?"> she asked, her tone dull with disappointment. This was not what she'd hoped to receive--she'd hoped to rid herself of these pesky feelings. But everything Kura said made sense, gods damn it, and if being with Isaiah could help her people, then...she had a duty to try and make it work. <"I have been with men before, many times, but actually trying to court one...I have no experience with it.">

Kura laughed. <"Well, child, you have come to the right place. I may not be young and beautiful like you, but I have seen and experienced much in my long life, and I think I can offer you some advice that will help."> She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts, then continued. <"First, you must understand that courting a man is not so different from hunting a prey animal. You must show him your strengths, your independence, your confidence. You must let him see that you are not some fragile flower to be protected and cherished, but a strong and capable woman who is worthy of his respect and admiration.">

<"That may be difficult,"> Metztli admitted. <"I was...very rough...with him, when we were together sexually. He is afraid of me."> It was strange how much that admission bothered her. Just yesterday it would have been a source of considerable satisfaction.

<"Ah,"> Kura nodded, pursing her lips thoughtfully. <"Well, then, I would suggest that you find a way to show him your softer side as well. You must find a way to make him see that you are not merely strong, but also gentle and caring. You must show him that you can be both the predator and the prey, the hunter and the hunted.">

The very idea of acting even remotely like prey bridled Metztli, but she forced herself not to grimace. <"Perhaps...perhaps I should...introduce him to my children?"> she asked hesitantly. <"Perhaps if he sees me as a mother, he will see my softer side then.">

Kura smiled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. <"Ah, yes, that is indeed a very good idea. Men often respond well to the maternal instinct, for it shows them that you are capable of caring for someone other than yourself, and that you have the strength and patience to nurture life. I think you should also make an effort to simply talk to him. Ask him about his home, his family, where he comes from. Show interest in who he is, and let him tell some of the stories of his people.">

A thought occurred to Metztli then and she bit her lip. <"May I ask, Kura...one more question?">

The wise woman smiled. <"Of course, child.">

<"Isaiah and the other foreigners will not remain in Tlacloban forever. One day they will leave. If I let myself become attached to him, if I let myself...love him...how will I be able to let him go?">

<"A good point, but I would not worry about it too much,"> Kura said reassuringly. <"The gods have their ways of making such things work out in the end. Who knows? Perhaps the boy will choose to stay behind.">

<"That will be the day boars fly,"> Metztli retorted.

Kura laughed, her wrinkled face creasing with amusement. <"Perhaps it is best not to dwell on that possibility just yet. For now, focus on making the most of the time you have with him. And remember, love is not something that can be forced or controlled. If it is meant to be, it will find its way, even across the great ocean.">

Metztli nodded, her lips firming into a thin line. <"I will pursue him with the same vigor with which I hunt my prey,"> she promised. <"Try as he might, run as he might, he will not escape my grasp.">

With renewed determination, she left Kura's hut and made her way through village. Everyone was starting to wake up now, and the smell of cooking meat and spices filled the air, She spotted Isaiah and his companions, including the golden-haired woman that a growing number of Tlacloban's men were calling "The Insatiable One," and strode boldly over to join them.

“Rabbit,” she said, by way of curt greeting. Isaiah looked surprised to see her, and she wondered why. Perhaps he had not been expecting her to show up so early? The other foreigners looked surprised too, but she ignored it. “You...sleep well?” Metztli asked him.

Isaiah took half a step back, unsure. “Er...yes, I slept ok. Did you?”

“Yes. Slept much good,” Metztli said in her half-broken English. “You make me feel good yesterday, in my hut. Slept well after.”

Isaiah reddened with embarrassment. Everyone stared at him, though Bonnie’s expression quickly grew into a wide smirk. “You fucked her?” the blonde girl asked. “Nice. Is she as good a fuck as I am? Maybe she and I should compare notes.”

“B-Bonnie!” Isaiah sputtered.

“Relax, I’m just teasing. I think you’re cute together.”

“I guess now we know why you’ve looked so tired ever since we got here,” Aisha giggled.

Even Jeremy looked impressed. “You? With her? Gotta say, man, I never would have thought it. She looks way out of your league.”

“Tell me about it,” Gabby agreed. “First Lin Ming and now you, Isaiah. I wonder who's next?"

"Not me." Aisha leaned into Jeremy's shoulder. "I've got all the man I need."

"I wouldn't complain," Krupa grumbled.

"Oh, come on," Bonnie said. "Don't be such a bitter Betty. You just need to get fucked."

Krupa rolled her eyes. "Not all of us like fucking everything in sight, Bonnie.”

"You should try it. It's worked wonders for me."

Lin Ming gave Isaiah a small smile and opened her mouth to speak, but Metztli cut her off and gave Isaiah a look that brooked no argument. "You. With me. We talk."

Isaiah took another half a step back from her, and Metztli's heart lurched. "Not be scared," she added. "Nothing wrong. Just want talk. Okay?"

He nodded slowly, and Metztli led him away from the others, into a secluded part of the village where they would not be disturbed. When she was certain they wouldn't be overheard, she sat on a nearby tree stump and motioned for him to sit next to her. "Tell about where you come from," she said. "This place...how you say it?"

Isaiah looked surprised. Perhaps he was expecting me to ravish him again, Metztli thought. Would it have made him happy if I did? When we are done speaking I will try to couple with him once more and see how he reacts.

"It's, um, it's called Texas," he said after a moment.

"Texas," Metztli repeated, trying out the unfamiliar word. "What it like?"

"Well...it's big, for one thing. Really, really big. The terrain is mostly flat, at least in the part of Texas I come from, with scrubby grasslands and cacti dotting the landscape--"

"Cacti?" Metztli interrupted. "What is cacti?"

Isaiah smiled, and for a moment, Metztli thought that she might have found a topic that interested him. "They're plants. Prickly ones. Some of them are tall and skinny, others are short and round, but they're all covered in really sharp, long spines."

Metztli arched an eyebrow. "Not good for eating, then."

"Nope," Isaiah confirmed with a chuckle. "It's very vast, too. Imagine a vast landscape, mostly flat, stretching on as far as the eye can see."

"No trees?" Metztli asked.

"Not like here, no," Isaiah confirmed.

Metztli tried to imagine such a place and found herself unable to. The idea of living in a place with few trees, or no trees at all, was utterly foreign to her. "And what is people like?" she asked. "They weak and soft like you?"

Isaiah tried to ignore the casual barb. "No, not at all. In fact, people from Texas have a reputation for toughness and resilience."

"Resilience?" Metztli began to grow frustrated. "Stop using big rabbit-words."

Isaiah winced and remembered belatedly that her English wasn't as good as Naka-Mur's or Tenoch's. "People from Texas are strong and brave," he said, speaking slowly and clearly. "They can survive in the harsh conditions of their land, facing down dust storms and blistering heat. They can work long, hard hours on the farm or in the city, and they know how to defend themselves if they need to."

Metztli cocked her head. "Then why you so soft, Rabbit? Why you not more like them? Why I have to teach you?"

Isaiah looked away. "It's not that I don't want to be strong," he mumbled. "I just...I'm not like you. Fighting, standing up for myself...it doesn't come easily to me the way it does with you, Metztli. Honestly, I wish it did. My life so far probably would've been a lot easier."

"Why?"

Isaiah sighed. "People back home pick on me all the time. They think I'm weak just because I'm not as big or strong as them. They laugh at me, call me names. It's gotten to the point where I just try to avoid them as much as possible."

"You should beat them bloody," Metztli advised, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "They leave you alone then, I bet."

Isaiah gave her a wan smile. "I wish it were that simple," he said. "But even if I could, I don't think I could bring myself to hurt anyone."

Metztli stared. He really was a rabbit, in every sense of the word. "Then is good thing you have me to protect you," she declared firmly. "Otherwise people walk all over you all the time. Tell more about Texas, Isaiah."

"Well...people there are also very self-sufficient."

Metztli folded her arms. "What I say about big rabbit-words?"

"Sorry," he said hastily. "I mean that people there are very independent. They like to make their own decisions, go their own way, do their own thing. They don't like to be told what to do, and they don't like to rely on others for help. It's not that they're selfish, necessarily. They just value their freedom and autonomy."

"Like Aiwaha," Metztli said. "Aiwaha like their freedom, too."

Isaiah nodded. "Exactly. But there are some differences too." He paused, considering his next words carefully. "There are really different attitudes to sex, for one thing. Back home, people usually don't do it so...casually or openly."

Metztli frowned. "Why? Sex is good. Feels good. Gods give you body to enjoy, not lock away."

Isaiah seemed a little taken aback by her frankness, and she couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, but people in Texas have different...perspectives. They think that sex should be saved for marriage, between two people who love each other."

"Love?" Metztli repeated. "Not need love for sex. Sex is pleasure. Sex is fun. Can be had with anyone, love or no. And what if no fall in love? What then? Life with no sex?"

Isaiah gave a rueful smile. "Sometimes, yeah. It just depends on the person, I guess."

"Fate worse than death," Metztli replied. She leaned in a little closer, her fierce dark eyes studying him closely. "You have sex with me, though. More than once, now. This mean you love me?"

Isaiah's eyes widened. "I...er...well..."

"Do love me?" she repeated, more firmly this time. "If Texas people only have sex when love, this mean you love me, right?"

Isaiah bit his lip, and Metztli's patience began to grow thin. She leaned in close, her bare breasts brushing his arm, and forced him to lock eyes with her. "Am I beautiful to your eyes?" she asked, her nose almost touching his. "Do you want touch me? Taste me? Take me? Because I do. I want claim you as mine." The words were straightforward, but her heart hammered in her chest as she said them.

Isaiah sucked in a breath. "Wh-what are--"

Metztli interrupted. "Silence, rabbit. Not done talking!"

He nodded, a little fearfully, and she continued. "At first...at first I not think much of you," she admitted. "Thought you weak. You still are. But...I am drawn to you. Can't help it. Not sure why. Maybe gods playing joke on us. But when with you, every time...you make me feel special. Not feel special to anyone before. Not like that. Not until now."

The admission stunned Isaiah. Her blunt words, delivered so plainly, shocked him to his marrow. He had never expected her to say anything like that. He wanted to respond, to tell her how he felt, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. He could feel the warmth of her breath on his face, her body so close to his that he could feel the rise and fall of her chest. It was intoxicating.

"Say something," she growled. "Monkey got you tongue? Idiot."

Isaiah felt his cheeks flush and his heart race as he struggled to form a reply. "Metztli," he managed to stammer, "I...I don't know what to say. I...I think you're beautiful," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "I think you're one of the strongest women I've ever met. You're so self-assured and so confident all the time. But I don't know if...if I'm right for you. We're so different, and we come from such different places. How would it even work?"

Metztli narrowed her eyes into a fierce glare. "It work because we make it work," she declared. "I not expect this either. Not expect to feel like this for foreigner, much less foreigner like you. But I do. If this is way things are, must be will of the gods." She looked him square in the eyes. "So I claim you. Here. Now. You mine. I yours. Unless you think you can do better than me?" she added, a note of challenge in her voice.

Isaiah swallowed hard. His heart was racing, but not from fear or uncertainty. Part of him wanted to argue, to say that she was wrong, that he was wrong, that none of this could possibly work. But another part of him, a deeper, more primal part, yearned for her words to be true. He'd never been on the receiving end of this kind of attention before. Usually he was the one confessing to girls (and getting shot down afterward) rather than the one being confessed to.

"I...I don't know," he stammered. "I just...I don't want to hurt you."

"You? Please." Metztli curled her lip. "You can't hurt nobody even if you tried."

Then she leaned in, her lips brushing against his, her tongue sliding against his, teasing him. His mouth opened under the onslaught, his tongue tangling with hers. She kissed him hard, her hands moving to his shoulders, then down his back, tracing the lines of his spine. He moaned into the kiss, his hands moving to grasp her waist, pulling her closer still.

"Mine," Metztli snarled in his ear. "You hear? Mine. You not fuck anyone else anymore, at least not without asking first. Got it?"

Isaiah nodded, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to regain control of himself. He was dimly aware of the feel of their bodies pressed together, the warmth flowing between them like molten lava. She seemed to sense his confusion, his uncertainty, and she responded with an animalistic growl, her hips grinding against his in a primal dance of possession. He felt her hands begin fumbling with the tie of his loincloth.

"Need you," she said through clenched teeth. "Now. Not care if anyone sees us." For better or worse, Isaiah knew how true that was. Aiwaha thought nothing of mating in the open.

His loincloth fell to the ground and Metztli hurriedly got down on her knees, looking up at him as his cock grew stiff. Her eyes never left Isaiah's as she took it into her mouth.

“You so big,” she whispered, her lips sliding up and down his shaft. “So hard.” Her tongue flicked out, teasing the sensitive ridge of his glans. Isaiah gasped, feeling his control slipping away. He slid his fingers into her hair, anchoring himself as her mouth moved over him in a rhythm that was both skilled and familiar. The sensations were overwhelming, like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

She pulled back, her lips leaving his cock with a wet pop, and met his eyes. “You mine now, yes?” she asked, her voice husky.

He nodded, his chest heaving.

“Say it,” Metztli insisted.

Isaiah swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat. “You’re mine,” he managed to choke out. “I’m yours.”

Metzli smiled, her eyes darkening with desire. “That’s better.” She stood up, guiding his cock to her wet entrance. With a force that belied her delicate frame, she impaled herself on him, moaning deep in her throat. Her body was tight and hot around him, and as she began to move, he felt as if he might lose his mind with pleasure. She rode him hard and fast, her nails digging into his shoulders as she arched her back, her breasts swaying freely in the air.

“Mine,” she said again, the word spilling from her lips as they moved together. “Mine! Mine! Mine! MINE!”

She buried her face in the side of his neck and nuzzled him like a panther. Her eyes were bright with lust and even a hint of tears as she gripped his shoulders hard enough to leave bruises behind.

“Give me your child,” she hissed, baring her teeth. “Give me son or daughter with fire-colored hair. Let me bear strong child for you. Give to me!”

Isaiah gasped, feeling as if he were being pulled apart inside. Her words were a physical blow, a punch to the gut. He didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he couldn’t give her what she was asking for. Not yet. Not until he understood.

Metzli sensed his hesitation, and her grip on him tightened. Her hips began to move faster, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she arched her back further, her breasts bouncing and jiggling.

He reached up, cupping her face in his hands, and kissed her passionately. He could taste himself on her lips, mingled with her own salty sweetness. “I’m not ready,” he managed to say between kisses. “I can’t be a dad yet, I’m only eighteen! But I want... I want this. I want you.”

“NO!” Metztli yelled, and began fucking him harder, more forcefully. “Want baby now, Isaiah! Not later! Now! Stop thinking so hard about everything! Tomorrow not exist, only today! So just do it!” Her hand clamped around his throat, not hard enough to hurt or choke him, but firm enough to let him know how dead-serious she was and force him to look her in the face. “Look. At. Me,” she growled.

Isaiah looked into her eyes and saw something wild and feral there, something ancient and untamed. She was beautiful, fierce, and unyielding, and in her eyes he saw a total lack of fear. But there was also something else there too, a vulnerability that made Isaiah’s heart ache. He felt a shiver run down his spine.

Her hips bucked against him, rolling in a way that took him deeper each time he drove into her. “Give,” she panted, her body growing slick with sweat as she pushed herself further. “Give. Me. Your. Child.”

Her words were like a command, a plea, and a demand all rolled into one. They echoed through his mind, refusing to be ignored. He could feel her need, her desire, her longing for a child that was so palpable it was almost painful.

“PLEASE!” Metztli shrieked. Her body arched and her head snapped back as if she’d been struck by an invisible fist. Her body was trembling, shivering from head to foot as her orgasm grew closer. “ISAIAH!”

It was, as far as he knew, one of the only times, if not the first time, she’d called him by his name. Not “Rabbit.” Not “foreigner.” Not this time. He felt her body tensing, felt the muscles in her thighs and back clenching around him, felt her breath coming faster and faster, and then...

Metztli screamed something in her native language and her pussy clamped down on him harder than it ever had before. Her eyes rolled back in their sockets and her mouth hung open as a long, ululating scream ripped from her throat. He didn’t know what she was saying, but it didn’t matter. It was enough that she had opened herself up like this, had given herself to him wholly and fully in a way she hadn’t done during their previous sexual encounters. This wasn’t just sex anymore, it was intimacy. It was, quite likely, the first time Metztli had ever been intimate with anyone.

Her body was trembling as her orgasm subsided, and he could feel her muscles begin to relax around him. But he wasn’t done yet. He wanted her to feel him, wanted her to know that he wasn’t just some random guy taking advantage of her. He reached up and grabbed her hips, pulling her down harder onto his cock, his thrusts now rough and urgent. He could feel his own orgasm building inside him, a hot, pulsing ache in his groin that seemed to spread outward to every part of his body.

She looked at him with surprise, her eyes wide and unfocused. “You... you not finished yet? Not cum yet?” she panted.

“No,” he growled, and thrust into her harder, feeling his orgasm begin to build. He could feel her body tensing again, preparing for another round of pleasure as she met his thrusts, their hips slamming together in a frenzy of desire.

Her nails dug into his shoulders as she arched her back, her breasts brushing against his chest. He could feel the muscles in her thighs and buttocks clenching around him, her body tightening as a second orgasm crashed over her. This time her scream was more primal, more animalistic, a sound that seemed to come from the depths of her soul.

Her body spasmed around him, her hips rolling in a final, desperate attempt to draw every last drop of pleasure from their union. Isaiah felt his control slipping, his body overcome with the urgent need to release. His hips bucked violently, driving deeper into her, and he felt the hot rush of his climax pouring into her. Isaiah came hard enough to see colored spots burst in his vision.

Her pussy clenched tight around him, her walls milking his cock in time with the spasms that racked her body. He could feel his seed spilling into her, filling her up, and as the last tremors of their shared orgasm faded away, he collapsed against her, their sweaty, sticky bodies entwined.

“Mine,” Metztli rasped, clinging tightly to him.

Her words were a declaration, a statement of ownership that both frightened and thrilled him. He could feel the weight of her body as she sagged against him, her breasts flattened against his chest, her wet heat still clutching at him. Their combined scents filled the air around them, a heady mix of sweat, sex, and something that was uniquely Metztli.

She shifted her hips slightly, still keeping him inside her, and he let out a shuddering breath. Her skin was warm and smooth against his, her soft hair tickling his chest. His fingers traced lazy patterns over her back, her ass, her shoulders. He couldn’t believe how good she felt, how right.

“Isaiah. Mine,” Metztli managed, running her fingers through his hair. “Start fucking other girls without my say-so, I kill you.”

Isaiah gave a rueful smile. “I know.”

“Good.” Slowly, reluctantly, she extricated herself. The feeling of emptiness when he slipped out of her made her whimper, and his cum gushed out of her with an audible slopping noise, leaving a trail of white sticky drops in the dirt. “Come with me now. My son and daughters, you will meet them.”

Isaiah nearly did a double-take. "You have children?"

"Of course. I young and healthy, can give tribe many children," Metztli said. "I have four, three girls one boy."

"Who...who is the father?"

"No idea. Each one different." She shrugged. "Not really matter. I take good care of them, and tribe takes good care of them."

"Why haven't you tried to...take a mate before me?" Isaiah asked, still breathing hard from their coupling as she began leading him to her hut.

"Never really wanted one," came the blunt reply. "Not needed one, either."

Isaiah remembered what Harwood said during one of her first lectures on the Aiwaha, about how children were raised as much by the entire tribe as they were by one or both of their parents. "I...I see," he said. "I'm sure they're, um, strong like you."

Metztli flashed him a smile. "Of course they are," she said, her voice filled with pride. She paused as they approached her hut. "Wait here. I come get you in a second."

She ducked her head to enter the hut, and said in Aiwaha, <"My little ones, I have brought a visitor to see you.">

Azti, Itzli, and Kizu looked up from where they'd been tussling on the floor while Chantico, her youngest child and the third of Metztli's daughters, extended her arms to be picked up. Metztli did so and kissed her brow.

<"Who is it, Mama?"> Kizu asked.

Metztli considered her words carefully. <"He is a friend. His name is Isaiah.">

Itzli snorted. <"That is a very strange name.">

Her mother gave her a warning look. <"Even so, you must be polite."> She pulled Isaiah inside then, and gestured at him. <"This is him. Say hello.">

Kizu's eyes widened. <"The red-haired foreigner?">

<"I knew it!"> Itzli declared. <"I knew you were going soft on him!">

Azti gave Isaiah a shy smile. <"Hi. Will you play with us?">

Metztli shot her oldest daughter an annoyed glance before crouching down next to Azti. <"Of course he will play with you."> She gave Isaiah a warning glance that brooked no refusal when she translated her son's words.

Isaiah heeded the warning. "Sure. What are we going to play?"

The children glanced at each other, excitement sparkling in their eyes. <"Hide-and-seek!"> Itzli exclaimed. <"You hide, and we'll come find you!"> She poked her tongue out at Azti. <"Bet you I can find him first!">

<"Will not!"> Azti shot back.

<"Will too!">

<"Will not!">

<"Will too!">

Metztli gave both of them a carefully measured clout about the ears.

<"Ow!"> they said in unison.

<"What have I told you about pointless arguing?"> she said, her tone firm.

Both Azti and his sister looked chastened. <"It makes the tribe weak and sows division,"> they repeated, as if by rote.

Metztli nodded. <"Exactly. Now, if you want to play hide-and-seek, I want you all to remember the rules. What are they?">

All four of her children answered as one, even Chantico, who had only just learned to talk. <"No going beyond the boundaries of the village. No hiding in trees or in holes or near the river. No going into the huts unless invited, and no hiding under or behind things if there's a chance we could get stuck. No peeking or cheating. And no arguing.">

<"Good."> Metztli nodded.

Isaiah was heavily impressed. He hadn't expected Metztli to be so good with kids, but seeing her in her role as a mother was like seeing a whole new side to her, a side he had no idea even existed.

"You're really good with them," he said. "Four kids their age would be a handful for anyone, but you handle them really well."

Metztli's darker complexion hid the flush of pleasure and mild embarrassment that rose in Metztli's cheeks. Normally she had little use for praise or recognition, but when it came from Isaiah, it made her feel tingly all over. "Hope it soon be five," she said, giving his crotch a knowing look. "Very soon. Want have another son, son by you, a son with red hair like fire." She gave him a ferocious, determined look.

Isaiah stammered something incoherent, looking away and clearing his throat. Metztli laughed, the sound like music. "You foreigners," she said, a little scorn seeping into her tone. "Act like having babies is some huge deal. Act like sex is some huge deal. Both natural things. Good things. Not things to be dreaded or feared or...or...what is rabbit-word?"

Isaiah hazarded a guess: "Stigmatized?"

"Yes, that is good. Stigmatized," Metztli said. "Yes, you foreigners stig-ma-tize them both. Aiwaha know better."

It was true, he supposed. Sex was something of a taboo subject back home. Even the word itself was something that people whispered and giggled about, like it was something naughty. It was almost as if having sex was something shameful, something that one did in private, with the lights off, and only when absolutely necessary in order to have children. Both his parents had had this attitude, and it had always seemed so...dull. Lacking in passion. The Aiwaha, by contrast, seemed to have nothing but passion. They did everything they could to live each day to the fullest, perhaps because, for them, tomorrow was far from guaranteed. They embraced life, and all that it had to offer, with zeal.

He was about to tell Metztli as much, but Itzli spoke first. <"What are we waiting for? Go on, foreigner! Go hide now!">

Metztli relayed the message to him in English. "Go on," she said with a grin. "Hide somewhere you think my cubs can't find you."

"You think they will?"

Her grin was predatory. "I am best huntress in all Tlacloban. I teach them myself."

Isaiah felt a little chill roll down his spine as he realized that this wasn't just a game--it was a way to teach the children how to hunt prey when they were old enough to do so. It was a way for them to learn how to check for prints, how to track an animal's scent, how to look for all the tiny signs that a frightened beast might leave in its wake. To her people, hide-and-seek wasn't only for fun--it was a valuable teaching tool.

"I'll do my best not to make it too easy for them," he promised.

Metztli smiled again. "Good. Now start running. You got twenty heartbeats, then they come find you."

He did.