Chapter 170: Culture Clash

~ HARTH ~

Harth woke first the next morning, which was rare. Tarkyn must be truly exhausted.

She lay there for a moment, hugging his back that rose and fell slowly and evenly, watching the tent sides flutter in the slight breeze, glowing from the rising sun behind them.

Her tent was looking sad. She needed to tighten the lines and… she pushed the thoughts away. Today held much, much more important things than the state of her tent.

Rolling slowly away so she wouldn't disturb her mate, she rose, still dressed, and crept out of the tent to allow Tarkyn to continue to rest. If she could find some friends and tell them, let them scent her, then they could bring Tarkyn in—

"Harth?!"

She'd just passed out of the cluster of mostly-empty tents and into one of the central areas where fires and resources were gathered for everyone's use.