Etched in Bone
Page 25
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“Why eat bones?”
“The nanny in the pack where I grew up always said you eat strong bones to make strong bones.”
“We drink milk to make strong bones.”
“After a pup is weaned, there’s not a lot of milk in the wild country.”
Meg said nothing for a moment. “Has Sam eaten a heart?”
“He’s displaying his dominance in the puppy pack,” Simon replied. It thrilled him that Sam had come so far in just a few months, that the pup he’d had to keep in a cage after Daphne’s death was not only playing with the other pups but showing the strength and personality of a Wolf who could lead a pack. “So, yes, I’ve allowed him to have a taste of a deer heart.” He waited a beat. “Humans eat animal hearts and livers too.”
Meg stopped walking. Her gray eyes were filled with alarm. “You’re not going to make me eat heart or liver, are you?”
“I wouldn’t make you eat anything you didn’t want.” Besides, the hearts and livers of their prey weren’t items that would be offered in the butcher shop. Those delicacies belonged to the Wolves.
He just hoped he’d made it clear to Sam that Meg wouldn’t appreciate the gift of a piece of deer heart or liver. Or lungs. Or brains. Or tongue.
He was pretty sure she wouldn’t appreciate any of those things even if they came from a cow.
“You promise?”
“You don’t have to eat them. And I promise I won’t try to sneak any of them on your plate and trick you into eating them.” He looked at her and laughed. “You get finicky about bits of meat, but you’ll eat that yogurt stuff?”
“One has nothing to do with the other,” Meg muttered.
But she didn’t sound sure, which made him laugh again. He’d choose eating brains over yogurt any day.
Most of the human pack was in the Market Square this evening. Ruthie held a string bag, but she wasn’t carrying food. It looked like she had a couple of books from the library and maybe a movie from Music and Movies. Kowalski came out of Chocolates and Cream carrying a small container. They paused for a moment to talk to Merri Lee and Debany before leaving the Market Square.
“Do you want to join them?” Simon asked, tipping his head to indicate the exploding fluffball and Debany.
“No. Since they have permission to be in the Market Square, Michael’s parents are going to join them and celebrate Merri Lee’s promotion.” Meg looked around. “We’re going to have some food restrictions, aren’t we?”
“Nothing anyone needs to howl about.” You won’t go hungry. Neither will Sam. “We may not always have foods that come from outside the Courtyard, and there will be limits on how much the humans can purchase from the stores here, but we’ll be all right.”
Sam raced back to them. “Can we have ice cream now?”
“When Meg and I reach Chocolates and Cream, we’ll get ice cream cones.”
“Skippy is here. Can he have one too?”
Simon was about to refuse. The juvenile Wolf with the skippy brain wouldn’t be able to hold a cone.
“They could put Skippy’s scoop of ice cream in a bowl,” Meg said.
That settled it. Sam arrooed, and Skippy hurried to join them.
The ice cream was made in an Intuit community that had branched out from the original dairy farm that the terra indigene had permitted within their land. Other Intuit families had joined the dairy farmers, bringing skills that made use of the supply of milk. Some of those humans made cheeses. And one family made ice cream. Once a week, the refrigerated truck made the trip to Lakeside, followed by a van. Once a week, the Courtyard received ice cream and a selection of cheese in exchange for manufactured items the Intuits wanted—or for money if the trade that week wasn’t an equal exchange.
After considering the humans who were connected to the Courtyard, Simon had asked for a larger supply of ice cream—enough so that everyone could have one scoop each week as a treat. He wasn’t sure they would receive more. Cows produced only so much milk, and the ice cream makers were dependent on the supplies they received. Still, he’d asked. He also knew asking for any additional food might not matter if the manufactured items the Courtyard brokered for terra indigene settlements and Intuit communities in the wild country were no longer available.
Those were problems for another day. This evening, they had ice cream.
Sam got a scoop of chocolate; Simon chose strawberry. Meg wanted vanilla, and Skippy was given a scoop of vanilla in a bowl, which Simon carried outside since he was the one among them whom the juvenile Wolf wouldn’t dare try to knock over in order to get the treat.
They chose a bench where they could observe the comings and goings of everyone else who had ventured into the Market Square. Simon put the bowl on the ground and watched it scooting this way and that in response to Skippy’s enthusiastic licking.
Then the bowl headed toward them. Meg made a V with her feet and the bowl scooted into the space.
Skippy looked up, growling that someone else was claiming his treat. Simon bared his teeth and noticed Sam doing the same thing. But Skippy paid no attention to them; his eyes were focused on Meg.
“I’ll hold the bowl for you,” she said.
The growling stopped. Skippy licked the ice cream and seemed surprised that it didn’t try to run away. He flopped down in front of Meg, his forelegs bracketing her feet, and happily licked his treat.
Simon turned his attention to his own cone, catching the drips. Sam was also focused on his cone. Then Meg sucked in a breath, and they looked at her.
“The nanny in the pack where I grew up always said you eat strong bones to make strong bones.”
“We drink milk to make strong bones.”
“After a pup is weaned, there’s not a lot of milk in the wild country.”
Meg said nothing for a moment. “Has Sam eaten a heart?”
“He’s displaying his dominance in the puppy pack,” Simon replied. It thrilled him that Sam had come so far in just a few months, that the pup he’d had to keep in a cage after Daphne’s death was not only playing with the other pups but showing the strength and personality of a Wolf who could lead a pack. “So, yes, I’ve allowed him to have a taste of a deer heart.” He waited a beat. “Humans eat animal hearts and livers too.”
Meg stopped walking. Her gray eyes were filled with alarm. “You’re not going to make me eat heart or liver, are you?”
“I wouldn’t make you eat anything you didn’t want.” Besides, the hearts and livers of their prey weren’t items that would be offered in the butcher shop. Those delicacies belonged to the Wolves.
He just hoped he’d made it clear to Sam that Meg wouldn’t appreciate the gift of a piece of deer heart or liver. Or lungs. Or brains. Or tongue.
He was pretty sure she wouldn’t appreciate any of those things even if they came from a cow.
“You promise?”
“You don’t have to eat them. And I promise I won’t try to sneak any of them on your plate and trick you into eating them.” He looked at her and laughed. “You get finicky about bits of meat, but you’ll eat that yogurt stuff?”
“One has nothing to do with the other,” Meg muttered.
But she didn’t sound sure, which made him laugh again. He’d choose eating brains over yogurt any day.
Most of the human pack was in the Market Square this evening. Ruthie held a string bag, but she wasn’t carrying food. It looked like she had a couple of books from the library and maybe a movie from Music and Movies. Kowalski came out of Chocolates and Cream carrying a small container. They paused for a moment to talk to Merri Lee and Debany before leaving the Market Square.
“Do you want to join them?” Simon asked, tipping his head to indicate the exploding fluffball and Debany.
“No. Since they have permission to be in the Market Square, Michael’s parents are going to join them and celebrate Merri Lee’s promotion.” Meg looked around. “We’re going to have some food restrictions, aren’t we?”
“Nothing anyone needs to howl about.” You won’t go hungry. Neither will Sam. “We may not always have foods that come from outside the Courtyard, and there will be limits on how much the humans can purchase from the stores here, but we’ll be all right.”
Sam raced back to them. “Can we have ice cream now?”
“When Meg and I reach Chocolates and Cream, we’ll get ice cream cones.”
“Skippy is here. Can he have one too?”
Simon was about to refuse. The juvenile Wolf with the skippy brain wouldn’t be able to hold a cone.
“They could put Skippy’s scoop of ice cream in a bowl,” Meg said.
That settled it. Sam arrooed, and Skippy hurried to join them.
The ice cream was made in an Intuit community that had branched out from the original dairy farm that the terra indigene had permitted within their land. Other Intuit families had joined the dairy farmers, bringing skills that made use of the supply of milk. Some of those humans made cheeses. And one family made ice cream. Once a week, the refrigerated truck made the trip to Lakeside, followed by a van. Once a week, the Courtyard received ice cream and a selection of cheese in exchange for manufactured items the Intuits wanted—or for money if the trade that week wasn’t an equal exchange.
After considering the humans who were connected to the Courtyard, Simon had asked for a larger supply of ice cream—enough so that everyone could have one scoop each week as a treat. He wasn’t sure they would receive more. Cows produced only so much milk, and the ice cream makers were dependent on the supplies they received. Still, he’d asked. He also knew asking for any additional food might not matter if the manufactured items the Courtyard brokered for terra indigene settlements and Intuit communities in the wild country were no longer available.
Those were problems for another day. This evening, they had ice cream.
Sam got a scoop of chocolate; Simon chose strawberry. Meg wanted vanilla, and Skippy was given a scoop of vanilla in a bowl, which Simon carried outside since he was the one among them whom the juvenile Wolf wouldn’t dare try to knock over in order to get the treat.
They chose a bench where they could observe the comings and goings of everyone else who had ventured into the Market Square. Simon put the bowl on the ground and watched it scooting this way and that in response to Skippy’s enthusiastic licking.
Then the bowl headed toward them. Meg made a V with her feet and the bowl scooted into the space.
Skippy looked up, growling that someone else was claiming his treat. Simon bared his teeth and noticed Sam doing the same thing. But Skippy paid no attention to them; his eyes were focused on Meg.
“I’ll hold the bowl for you,” she said.
The growling stopped. Skippy licked the ice cream and seemed surprised that it didn’t try to run away. He flopped down in front of Meg, his forelegs bracketing her feet, and happily licked his treat.
Simon turned his attention to his own cone, catching the drips. Sam was also focused on his cone. Then Meg sucked in a breath, and they looked at her.
