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Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5

Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5

Titel: Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5 Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Various Authors
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the air, and then the scent of urine struck him. The boy had wet himself. By all that was holy, this wasn't justice. It wasn't even a mercy killing. The pain in the boy's eyes—he couldn't be more than a year into his manhood—pulled at him. Compassion reared its inconvenient head, and he knew he wouldn't kill the boy. The boy wasn't a poacher. He wore clothing that was all but rags, and he was too skinny. Poachers, while lean, weren't skinny with hunger. This boy was. A tool, then. A tool that had been dragged into the forest without any knowledge of the flora around him. Now, that tool was his responsibility.
    Another growl filled his throat, and he turned to run off into the forest. Dark would come soon, and he didn't have much time. It took him an hour to find the blue-gilled mushrooms. Near them, as was usually the case, grew the antidote. Hopefully, the boy hadn't eaten the mushrooms too long ago. In a fluid moment of thought, he shifted from leopard to man. Hands made cutting the vine easier. He used a sharp piece of rock from the forest floor, and then he took the vine and ran back through the jungle. If the boy was lucky, he'd make it in time to give him the antidote and light a fire. It would be cold tonight, and with how little clothing the boy had, he was surprised the creature hadn't died yet.
    When he burst through the treeline again, the boy cried out once more, but when the boy saw him as man not beast, he relaxed. The boy said something, but he didn't understand. The language was wrong. Besides, he knew very little of the language spoken in his own lands, let alone a foreign tongue. He crouched beside the boy and used his nail to slice open the vine. He mimicked bringing the vine's slick interior to his lips, hoping the boy understood. The boy needed to eat the insides of the vine. Quickly. When the boy just looked at him, he growled and made the motion again, holding the inside of the vine up to the boy's mouth.
    Understanding sparked in the boy's eyes at last, and his tongue darted out to lick at the vine. The boy recoiled an instant later, though, and his quick hand caught the dark hair and yanked the boy's head back toward him. He knew the slimy innards of the vine were bitter and unpleasant, but it was eat or die, and dammit, the boy was going to do as told. He growled and shoved the vine against the boy's lips, and even though the boy whimpered, he licked and chewed obediently. He chuffed and loosened his grip, moving the vine across to encourage the boy to eat more. When the boy tried to pull away sooner than he thought was wise, all it took was another yank, and that obedience returned, albeit with a groan of protest.
    When the section of vine was eaten clean, he set the rest of the long coil aside and released the boy's hair with a satisfied hum. The boy said something again. It sounded like a question, but he had no answer for a question he couldn't understand. Instead, he just pressed his hand to the boy's chest, and then brought his palm to the ground. The boy spoke again, another question, but the boy pointed to himself and the ground, and it seemed he understood, so he just nodded with another purring hum before standing.
    He had a lot of work to do and very little time to do it in. Nightfall was too close to waste time attempting more communication with the foolish boy. He went into the surrounding forest again in search of fallen wood. Only a few good logs were close to the lake, so he gathered them and set them down next to the human. The boy watched until another bout of sickness had him curled up on his side in pain. He needed more wood for a fire, though, so he abandoned the boy again, running to a tree he knew of that had once been struck by lightning. It was nearly overgrown, but the vines pulled away easily enough, and he ripped off a few branches, grateful the rains had been light enough to spare the brittle wood and bark from excess moisture.
    Back near the lake, the boy was still curled up and groaning, but there was a new puddle of vomit nearby that made his nose crinkle. He'd have to force more of the antidote into the boy soon. As it was, he had gathered enough to start a fire and keep it going for a while. The rest of what he needed was hidden in the opposite direction, and after taking a few mouthfuls of water from the lake, he ran again, returning with a pack he had scavenged from poachers he had killed in the past. Most of what poachers carried was useless to him,

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