Chapter 19

- Bronwen -

"Is there a creek nearby the new campsite?"

"No," Noker says with a little smile. "There are three."

We make our way back to the camp. Noker puts me on Dexer's platform while he gets busy with packing up for the move, planning it and helping some of his clansbrothers who have trouble being of much use. I notice his calm, friendly manner. It seems impossible to make him mad or to ruffle his calm exterior. I can't help but wonder what might happen if somebody did succeed at that. Something cataclysmic, probably.

"Without Noker, Sprisk, and Brak, there wouldn't be much of a clan," Dexer says as he lights up the smart little ceramic stove on his platform. Somehow he notices what my gaze keeps seeking, despite his blind eyes. "Shaman Melr'ax was also important for many years, but now he's too weak to do much. And I don't think he will return from the tribe."

"If not, the clansbrothers can come see him in the village," I suggest. "He would love to see you all."

He opens the compartment in the base of the platform and takes out pre-sliced filets of meat. "We're afraid of the tribe. Now, the only Foundlings they've seen are Brak and Noker, our mightiest and most admired clansbrothers. If they think we're all like them, they'll be disappointed when they see the rest of us."

"Maybe not," I carefully suggest. "The Borok tribe don't set babies out in the jungle to die if they're different. I've seen men in the tribe with only one hand, or no legs, or some other difference."

"Do they have blind men?"

"I haven't noticed any. But there's a Borok man who can't hear. They treat him as an ordinary triber."

He puts the meat on the hot grill, making it hiss. "Hmm. It sounds almost too good to be true. But it fits with what Brak says."

I get comfortable on the platform, getting used to the slow pendulum motion.

My hopes of finding yeast for baking didn't work out, but at least I know they can make it, if that foam of theirs is in fact yeast. The drap fruit doesn't just have a really good vanilla flavor, it's also intriguingly mealy when it's dried, turning into a fine, white powder. It makes me excited to experiment with it.

My eyes keep searching out Noker. He jumps from platform to platform and sees to it that everything is ready for the move. I can't deny that his head fan makes him look weird. He's clearly an alien, more so than any ordinary caveman. Maybe that's one thing that attracts me to him. He's perfectly confident about his unconventional head, even if it makes him stand out more than Brak does. But it's also a proud thing, like a peacock's tail feathers, showing the world his strength and pride and manliness. Because he's not lacking any of those things. He even deals with kids in his positive manner, building them up in a fatherly way.

In total, seeing Noker leading his clan makes me want him. Like, seriously.

Dexer and I eat the grilled meat in silence.

When the sun sets, Noker comes over and quickly eats the final grilled slices, long since gone cold.

"That should do it," he says as he helps me over to his platform. "Everything is packed up, ready to move. Every man who can carry his own platform must do that. But still some of us must go back and forth many times. It will be a long day." He hauls us up into the treetops.

I still don't love dangling this high up. Every tiny movement makes the platform move and jerk. Noker fastens it with two more ropes to keep it steadier, but the branch moves with the tree. So it doesn't really make much of a difference, but I appreciate his constant efforts in keeping me comfortable and safe.

"Then you should get some rest," I tell him as he positions us so that I'm leaning back into him. He really likes sitting like that.

"This is rest," he argues and pulls me closer, his hands on my hips and his fingertips slowly making small circles on the denim fabric. "Don't you feel restful?"

I lean my head back on him and spread my knees another inch. "Very restful. Let us make sure we not disturb the rest of the clansbrothers."

The platform moves as he leans over and looks down. "They're far below us, all of them. I've told them to sleep early."

Judging from the insistent poking in my back, he has the same idea that I have and he's absolutely ready for it. "They not coming up?"

"If they do, I'll be very upset with them," Noker growls, both hands under my sweatshirt.

I know he's tired, and we're both more than ready. There's no need to drag this out.

Grabbing the hem of my sweatshirt, I pull it up to my neck so he has access to the bare skin. His touch is a fantastic counterpoint to the cool air, and the contrast makes me shiver.

But I want more, and I don't want to wait. I roll over to my side and quickly undo the button in my jeans, then push them to my ankles. Lying like this, I'm presenting myself pretty well to the caveman without having to look down.

"Oh, I see," Noker growls softly. I hear the soft sounds of him pulling his shorts down, then the meaty bong when his hard cock springs free of the fabric and hits something.

"Be careful," I say softly.

"I hit the oven," he grunts. "It's fine. Very cold now."

I push my butt towards him. "Put it here instead."

He does, first the tip at my outer lips, wetting it with my juices. And there are a lot of them — the air up here is still, and I can absolutely smell my own arousal.

Pushing in, his rod slides slowly into my center. There's a hint of soreness from before, but the moment those tingles start up again, I forget all about that and just sigh and go limp with pleasure.

"I love this," Noker growls as he fucks me slowly. "We're a perfect fit."

"M-hm," I agree, half in some kind of parallel existence where the only things that exist are his cock and my pussy. I do my best to be quiet because of the clan below us, but I'm only human and some whimpering escapes me.

Because this is building up to something great. The slow, deep thrusts into me, his unusual features, and the constant tingling is so new to me, I just don't want it to stop. But at the same time, it's all pushing me closer to the edge, whether I want to or not.

My cheek rubs against the raw wood of the platform, the air is thick with wood smoke, I'm two hundred feet in the air, and the breeze rustles the treetops above. It should all be too strange, too off-putting, too alien. But I'm being fucked by a caveman alien who's half dinosaur, and that's the only thing that matters.

When the climax hits, I shake and bite the heel of my hand to not groan too loudly.

Like last time, Noker tenses up and twitches, and this time I swear I feel his hot juices spraying inside me. At the same time, there's a bang and a blue flash, much more clear in the dark than back at the stream.

"Are you all right?" I ask when I can trust my voice again.

"Just small lightning," Noker grunts and embraces me tightly. "It happens sometimes."

"Very strange lightning," I comment sleepily. "Hopefully it won't rain."

He nuzzles my hair. "It won't. It's not that kind of lightning."

"Oh. It's the other kind, then."

- - -

It turns out that moving days on planet Xren are much the same as on Earth: endless carrying of items that everyone's forgotten that they had, grumpy faces and small quarrels about who's misplaced some small item, a good amount of swearing and some back-breaking lifting. But most times I've moved house before, it didn't involve walking for hours through a jungle where there might be a dinosaur behind any tree.

At the new site, a boy climbs all the way up to the top of a tree and carefully fastens a rope and pulley system up there before he drops one end of a rope, ties himself to the other, and is lowered back down by strong hands. After that, hanging the platform from the treetops is easy.

"Normally, that would be Brak's task," Noker says with satisfaction. "But he thinks we won't be moving for several days. He will be surprised to see how well we've done without him."

Noker makes sure I don't have to do a lot of work, but I help with moving the youngest members of the clan, and I carry some of the lighter and more delicate items. The clansbrothers do a really good job, showing strengths and abilities I didn't know they had.

All through it, Noker and Sprisk stay on top of things with friendly encouragement, broad grins, little jokes, and strong hands wherever they're needed. Those two do most of the work, it seems to me.

"I'm not sure that's necessary," I mutter to myself. "Everyone here wants to work."

I spend most of the day at the new campsite, experimenting with the drap fruits and the clan's little iron forge, which looks enough like a baker's oven to be interesting to me. But not much comes of it.

Finally Noker and I inspect the new camp. The trees are unusually tall and strong in this spot, and the clan had to use their complete reserves of rope to hang their platforms properly. The ground is all bare and sharp-edged rocks, so that nobody can leave footprints. Anyone passing through would be too busy getting past the rocks to ever think of looking up and discovering the platforms that hang from the branches.

"Three creeks," Noker sums up and points into the dense jungle. "There, there, and there. They come together in a small lake in that direction. I want to make a water pump and bury the pipes, so that nobody can see them. Anyone coming here must go uphill, which makes the camp easier to defend. And even then, they have to find a way to defeat our platforms, which can be pulled up to the tops of the trees, completely out of reach. Swords will be of no use for that. We will keep spears and rocks and such up with us, so that we can drop them on the attackers. We'll be so high up that even an angry kronk won't be able to reach us!" He puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me to him.

I smile at his enthusiasm. "And the Borok tribe will help guard it, since it's on their turf."

"Exactly. The clan has allies! I'd like to see the outcast that thinks they can attack us now!"

"They have to find the camp first," I point out. "It's hard to spot and hard to get to."

"We'll make it even harder. We'll dig traps and place thorn bushes so that only someone who knows the way can reach it."

"And there are edible plants nearby, you said."

His face lights up. "Yes! Come, I'll show you."

We go down the hill, Noker pointing out where he wants to dig traps and place obstacles. "The game of penk showed me how difficult we can make it for strangers to get here. I owe the Borok tribe sincere thanks for that. Ah, here we are."

We reach a vibrant cluster of colorful bushes. Their hues range from deep crimson and bright orange to soft lavender and sunny yellow. Interwoven through the whole thing are thin, emerald leaves and delicate white blossoms exuding a sweet, inviting fragrance that seems to beckon the other bushes closer. It's a tapestry of color and texture, with each bush contributing to the chaotic beauty. There has to be dozens of different plants. It looks like something that was thought up by a brilliant, but drunk gardener who just wanted to see how many different plants you can get to grow in the same spot.

"The flast bush," Noker says and takes one green leaf between his fingers. "It likes to attract other bushes to grow with it. I don't know why, but you see them here and there in the jungle."

I pull a leaf off the bush and smell it. "Are they used for anything?"

"Not the flast bush itself. But it likes company of all kinds. Often we find leaves or roots that are good to eat or to use for other things."

I pick several different leaves and flowers and crush them in my hand, so I can smell them. Four of them are promising.

"I see you no longer taste first and smell later," Noker says with a crooked smile. "I think that's progress."

"Yes, I am much smarter now. This time, I want you taste first. Try this." I give him a leaf. "Only a small bite. Do you have alcohol nearby?"

He puts the whole leaf in his mouth and chews. "One leaf is usually not too dangerous. Oh… wait…" He starts coughing and choking, clutching his throat.

"Spit it out!" I urge, terrified I've given him some kind of deadly poison.

He smirks and chuckles, clearly totally fine. "This one is not bad."

I slap his arm lightly, relieved. "Hey, no joking like that! I thought you die!"

"Try it yourself," he says and takes another leaf from my hand.

I gingerly taste a leaf of the same type. It's kind of spearmint-y, which might come in handy. If nothing else, it might work as some kind of breath freshener.

We taste another two leaves, finding them tasty in a spicy way, but nothing too special. But the last one makes my eyes widen. "That's sweet!"

Noker chews the leaf, then picks several more off the plant and chews on them before spitting them out. "Almost too sweet. I'd prefer an overripe fruit to this."

To a caveman who's never had any food with sugar in it, the leaf must taste sickeningly sweet. To me, it's more like stevia. And that's more than I could ever hope for. "Let's get as much of that leaf as we can, and then dry it," I suggest. "It may be useful for many things."

We pick about thirty leaves off the bush, from different twigs and branches to not destroy the plant. Returning to the camp, I find a suitable space on the rocks to dry the leaves on, holding them down with flat stones.

The sun is setting, and the clan is chatting happily on their platforms, cooking meat from the Borok pack that Noker brought.

He's sitting down on the rocks, looking up at the camp.

I touch his scaly head. "Are you all right? You usually don't sit down."

He looks up at me with bloodshot eyes. "Just a little tired."

"You working all day," I tell him as I pull him to his feet and drag him to sit down on the platform. "Now time to rest."

Climbing up on the platform after him, I grab the right rope and pull. It's heavy to start with, but once I get going, the smart pulley system helps a lot.

We zoom past the other platforms and all the way up to the treetops. This is even higher up than in the old camp, and the air is cooler and fresher up here. The sounds of the jungle are now definitely below us. I carefully fasten as many ropes as I can, noticing that there are two more now. That way, the platform can be held almost perfectly steady, only moving with the tree and not with each little motion we make. It feels more like a floor.

"You did that for me," I purr, sitting down beside Noker. "So I would feel safe."

"Feeling safe is important," he rumbles. "We all feel safer now that the camp has been moved. Hear the clansbrothers? They feel so safe now that they talk almost without lowering their voices. They're not afraid of attackers."

That's true — there's a constant murmur from below us.

I get busy with the little stove, lighting it and preparing meat to grill. "Brak and Piper be surprised when they get to the old campsite and is gone."

"They know where it went," Noker says, hiding a yawn behind one hand. "And it's the first time we move the camp without Brak's help."

I find seasoning and coat the meat in it. "Perhaps it's good for him to see that the clan can get by without him."

There's no reply. When I turn to check, Noker is curled up on the platform, fast asleep, his head fan a relaxed blue.

Finding a piece of dinosaur skin and putting it over his feet so he won't feel cold, I let him sleep and enjoy the meat myself. Then I curl up too, spooning him from behind and feeling his hard, slow heartbeat resonate through me.

"I love you," I whisper softly to the back of his remarkable head. I've known for a while, of course. But knowing it and admitting it to myself are two different things.