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.