The Roaming Sea - 11. Brookside, Pt. 2

Life in Brookside required time for Callum to adjust. Everyone’s pace was unhurried, and if a chore wasn’t completed by sundown, the general consensus was ‘there’s always tomorrow.’ That’s not to say nothing was ever completed, though. Despite the relaxed atmosphere, duties and responsibilities were never neglected.

At first, Callum grappled with the perception of himself as a hindrance. While the doctor, Gerald, appreciated the fact Callum could assist him, he didn’t have any need for an assistant. Regardless, he told Callum he would seek him out if needed. If tragedy struck Brookside—such as an accident with multiple victims—having Callum by his side could easily save lives. Unfortunately, that left Callum without a specialised job he could fill, but he was happy to work in the fields, tending to crops, picking ripe fruits and vegetables.

Delores’s mention of community was absolutely right, though. What took Callum aback was how rapidly everyone accepted him. Villagers introduced themselves the first chance they had—an overwhelming experience of too many faces and names for Callum to keep track. But as the days wore on and he fell into a routine, he made a point of greeting anyone he passed by their name.

After the ninth day, a pactrid emissary arrived at the village. Like the gotachi, they could speak the Anberan language. The visits were primarily to ratify their well-being, and act as a communication bridge beyond the village. On rare occasions, they would work toward solving issues beyond the village’s control.

The emissary gladly accepted Callum’s parchment—Rym’s message—and said it would be delivered to their military’s command post. The pactrid warned, however, it could take a substantial period of time before Rym received the message. Callum nodded in understanding, but couldn’t help being disheartened by the news. With every passing day, Rym’s absence brought on an ever-growing sense of longing that couldn’t be uprooted.

To keep his mind off that wistfulness, Callum also joined the hunters in their ventures within the forest. They taught him how to construct a snare to trap small game, filling in the gaps he’d missed while in basic training. To find an animal caught in a snare he’d built brought a genuine sense of accomplishment, and the genial compliments from the hunters roused a growing camaraderie Callum had never experienced before.

It differed from his time with the soldiers and fellow medics. That brotherhood existed, but as with all brothers, there was an undercurrent of grandstanding that didn’t exist here. Although these hunters were well-versed in their craft, they felt it unimportant to boast the fact. Callum found this refreshing, and while he wasn’t the bragging sort, still found it behaviour worth emulating.

His biggest challenge was learning to use a bow. The hunters were inexhaustibly patient with him, bestowing continual guidance as his skill improved. But as hard as he tried, he found himself unable to hit a target reliably. One hunter, Frederick, was especially supportive—telling Callum he was expecting too much too soon, and reassured him that his dexterity would sharpen with enough time and practise.

Despite the fellowship of the tight-knit community, when night was upon him and he lay alone in bed, nothing could stop the forlorn loneliness from washing over him. He still couldn’t comprehend how his feelings for Rym had grown so strong. They barely knew each other. Reprising their goodbye in his mind, he imagined himself standing at the forest’s edge. The pactrid’s reaction to Callum’s departure seemed clear. He was saddened by their parting. But lingering doubt within Callum seized control. What did Rym want from him? Friendship, or something more? Why was their goodbye so leaden with emotion? These questions haunted Callum each night, and exhaustion was the only reason he slept at all.

Aside from farming and hunting, Callum was assigned a third duty—one that only he could undertake. Delores stated he was the only person in Brookside who could speak the pactrid language. She suggested the entire village gather for one hour after supper, and he could teach them the basics. He scoffed at the idea of standing before everyone—he was neither a public speaker nor a teacher. But after some gentle persuasion and avowing she’d stand beside him, acting as a mediator, he reluctantly agreed.

Much to his chagrin, she arranged the first lesson that very evening before he could reconsider their agreement. Standing before the sizeable crowd, Callum had lost his voice. Delores took charge—as she always did—prompting Callum with “How do you say hello?” To Callum’s astonishment, that leading question was all he needed to begin the lesson. He spoke of different greetings and farewells, having the crowd repeat each word multiple times, then advanced to short sentences in the pactrid language. The hour passed by in mere moments, and the villagers applauded Callum for sharing his knowledge. Afterward, individuals approached to thank him personally, enthusiasm for the next lesson written on their faces. Callum’s blushing cheeks gave away his embarrassment in response to their appreciation.

That was his routine—busy, yet uniquely fulfilling. The days flew by uncounted, which was probably for the best. Of course, Rym was never forgotten, but the pain of his absence tentatively ebbed away. Each passing day heightened the possibility the pactrid would return, evolving that sense of absence into anticipation.

One sweltering afternoon while harvesting potatoes, Callum had his attention pulled by the sound of children laughing in the distance. Still on his knees, he shifted his wide-brimmed straw hat to discover the source of the commotion. The children orbited a large pactrid, happily repeating the words they’d learnt from Callum. A villager led them toward the fields, pointing in Callum’s direction.

The pactrid’s gait was unmistakable.

Callum bolted upright and leapt over rows of potatoes—his hat flying in the breeze, forgotten. Rym, shielding his eyes from the sun, lumbered into the fields toward him. He advanced prudently, trying his best to keep from stepping on the produce. The children stopped their playful chants, watching from afar with curiosity, likely unaccustomed to such a display between a human and pactrid. Callum didn’t care what anyone thought. His vision narrowed on all that mattered.

With mere metres to spare, Rym dropped to one knee and held out his arms, ready to catch him. Callum didn’t slow, instead colliding into him with a crushing hug. The pactrid uttered a grunt from the impact and wrapped his hulking arms around him. His trunk snaked over Callum’s shoulder as he lowered his head to whisper in his ear.

“I missed you, pup.”

It wasn’t long ago that title would’ve angered Callum, but now hearing Rym speak it with such tenderness, Callum squeezed him tighter, eyes tearing with joy. He caught a whiff of the pactrid’s scent, quite strong from the exertion of his travels. As before, he found the unusual yet masculine musk pleasing—alluring—but instead of being disturbed like last time, he took it in again. He felt so safe in Rym’s arms, and the pactrid’s aroma only attributed to that security.

“I missed you, too,” he said, his voice cracking.

“You came back.”

Callum released his grip to look Rym in the eyes—those mysterious, glittering silver eyes. “I’m sorry I left.”

“I held hope you would return. Humans who learn the truth of the war find it difficult to reintegrate back into their society.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“It would’ve been wrong to influence your decision. As hard as it was for me to accept, I saw it was important you return home.”

“But you tried damned hard to persuade me back at the outpost,” Callum said with a sly grin.

Bashfully looking away for a moment, Rym muttered, “You’re like no one I’ve ever met. I didn’t want to lose you.”

Those words cut through Callum, and he hugged the pactrid again. “I’d made a mistake. I know that now.”

Approaching footsteps crunched in the dirt, and Callum pulled away to find Delores sporting a bemused smile.

“Care to introduce me to your . . . friend?” she asked.

Callum was unable to meet her gaze in embarrassment. “Delores, this is Rym. He’s the one who found me after the transport accident.” He then spoke in the pactrid language. “Rym, this is Delores—the chieftain of this village.”

Delores imparted a genial nod in greeting. “It is nice to meet you.” She spoke in Rym’s language with a heavy accent, but Callum was still impressed by her competency from his casual teachings.

Rym bowed his head. “You honour me and my kind. Thank you.”

Delores subtly asked Callum for a translation of the word ‘honour’, but otherwise understood what the pactrid said.

“If there’s anything else you want to say, I’d be happy to translate between you two,” Callum said.

She nodded and addressed the pactrid. “You’re more than welcome to stay, however I’m sorry we don’t have any accommodations for pactrid visitors.”

Rym waved away her concern. “I’m comfortable amongst the trees. If you don’t mind me camping at the edge of your village, that will serve me well.”

“Of course. This is your land. It’s a rare opportunity to host a pactrid guest, especially when they’re a friend of Callum’s.”

Callum made a point to hide the subtle undertones in her voice while translating. Rym bowed his head again in thanks.

She turned to leave, but then caught Callum’s eye with a shrewd smile. “We’re talking later.”

“Um, okay,” Callum muttered, trying to hide his dread.

Left alone in the relative privacy of the field, he turned his attention back to Rym. Gone was his satchel, replaced by a hefty rucksack nearly as tall as Callum. The pactrid stared back, elation written on his face. Having waited so long, Callum felt overwhelmed to finally have Rym here now. He wiped his face to clear the stupor in his head.

“I should gather up the potatoes I left. Then we’ll find you a suitable place to set up camp while the sun is up.”

Rym nodded and turned to scan the surroundings. “Where would you suggest?”

Once Callum had delivered his load of vegetables, he led Rym to a private, bucolic corner of the village—away from the houses—just within the woods. Nearby, the brook cascaded faintly along the rocky shore, and birds hidden in the boughs above sung their songs. Word of Rym’s arrival spread quickly, however, and soon villagers approached—sometimes alone, others in small groups—supplying blankets, firewood, and a covered basket of food. As each person left, they regarded Callum with surreptitious smiles, their curiosity piqued. Evidently, more had been shared than just Rym’s arrival. Callum groaned inwardly. He’d owe everyone an explanation, but it would have to wait. Even now, he couldn’t explain it to himself.

After setting up camp, Callum hooked a thumb toward the brook. “Given the hot weather, I’d planned on cooling down after my work was done. Would you like to join me?”

“Yes, that sounds wonderful. Lead the way, pup.”

Callum reached the water’s edge and couldn’t resist the temptation to dip his hand into the refreshing, flowing water. Even now, it was shockingly cold. His eyes followed the flow of water running parallel to the village before it veered right toward its unknown destination. He recalled his first night here, and the curiosity of where the water would take him if he’d allowed it. Despite the many opportunities to sate his growing wanderlust, he respected the rule that no Anberan could wander on pactrid lands unaccompanied. Callum stood and took hold of the pactrid’s hand—a couple of thick fingers, really.

“Would you be my escort?”

Rym didn’t reply, and instead granted an intriguing smile. They followed the water, rounding the corner and leaving the village behind.

“While we were apart, I learnt something about you,” Callum said as they walked alongside the brook.

The pactrid glanced at him with inquisitiveness. “What did you learn?”

“Scoutmaster Rymolnd Tepin is highly regarded by his cohorts.” Callum had made the effort to learn—with Ettor’s help—the correct pronunciation of Rym’s name. Judging by the pactrid’s grin, he got it right.

“My friends call me Rym.”

Callum recalled the last time he said that, not long after they first ran into each other. “Are we friends?”

Rym gave him a knowing smile. “Well, perhaps something more than friends now?”

Hearing this, Callum’s heart leapt into his throat. “What would more entail?” he asked nervously.

Rym shrugged noncommittally—teasingly—then pointed ahead at an escarpment. The sound of rushing water intensified as they navigated the declining terrain, and trees parted in the distance to reveal a waterfall. Afternoon sun shone through a steady mist, producing an exquisite rainbow of colour. Callum snuck a peek at his friend, finding him just as moved by the sight.

Upon reaching the edge of the gorge, Callum discerned a safe way to reach the bottom. “Do you want to go down?” he asked, pointing his planned route.

Rym took the lead, using trees as handholds while descending. Beyond the falls lay a pool of gently swirling water, making for an inviting place to bathe. Warm sunlight shone through gaps of the towering trees, sparkling on the pool’s surface. To know this beautiful place existed so close to the village, yet remained undiscovered, felt terribly wrong to Callum. He’d have to share it with the others, but for now, he’d take advantage of the privacy it offered.

Pushing his abashment aside, Callum began to undress, and Rym followed suit with a grin. Despite his curiosity to watch the pactrid, Callum kept his eyes on the water as he doffed his trousers. Even during their night at the inn on the shared bed, they’d remained clothed. Certainly, Callum had seen a pactrid naked once before—he forcibly pushed the accompanied images out of his mind—but the circumstances were so disparate, calling this moment his ‘first time’ felt more appropriate.

Once stripped bare, Callum risked a tentative glance over his shoulder. Rym was slower to undress—still working on removing his own trousers, all the while staring openly at Callum’s naked form. Callum had nothing to be ashamed of, but compared to Rym’s impressive body, he couldn’t help feeling inadequate. He’d planned on waiting until Rym was ready, but couldn’t take those piercing eyes any longer, so he dived into the pool. The cold water stung his hot skin, but he couldn’t deny it felt good. He breached the surface and wiped his eyes to find Rym now naked, readying himself to run toward the pool. The pactrid was a sight to behold—his muscular form radiating strength and masculinity. Callum longed to touch him, hold him—to be touched by those powerful yet gentle hands, and be held close to Rym’s body.

The pactrid took a few steps back, then made a running start—letting out a gruff laugh as he approached with growing speed. Wide-eyed, Callum frantically swam away as Rym jumped, tucked his legs against his chest, and held them with his arms. The pactrid broke the surface, causing an explosion of water to fly into the air and splash Callum like a short-lived torrential downpour. He burst out in laughter. Rym emerged, blowing a stream of water from his trunk, hitting Callum in the face. Callum tried blocking with a hand, but to no avail, turning his laugh into a gurgle.

Rym swam toward him, taking Callum into his powerful arms. While Callum couldn’t touch the bottom of the pool with his feet, Rym could. The pactrid bent his legs to match their height, allowing Callum to perch atop Rym’s thighs and hold on with no need to tread water. Their wet skin was slick against each other—the cold water rapidly warming between their bodies. Rym’s trunk slid across Callum’s neck and along his back, helping to hold them close.

The crash of the falls made conversation impossible, but with Callum so close to Rym’s large ear, he softly said, “I’ve never felt this way with anyone before.”

Rym tightened his embrace, lightly crushing him for a moment, but not in a way that was unpleasant. The unostentatious show of strength only added to Callum’s sense of security the pactrid gave him.

“You make me happy, too.” Rym’s deep voice was felt as much as heard.

Time was forgotten while they held each other, enjoying the simple pleasure of their touch. The water, however, sought to remove them. Despite Rym’s warm embrace, Callum was soon shaking from the cold. Sensing this, Rym hoisted him into his arms and carried him out of the water. A part of Callum felt ridiculous and a little embarrassed, but still accepted the spark of delight it brought as well. However, instead of putting him down at the shore, Rym held him close and lumbered toward a patch of sunlit grass nearby—away from the fall’s deafening roar.

Dropping to a knee, Rym gently settled Callum onto the ground, then lay down beside him. What meagre remnants of nervous modesty Callum felt were gone now, and he turned slightly to lay a hand on Rym’s hefty bicep. Squeezing the firm muscle, he marvelled at its size. The weathered and tough texture of his grey skin felt softer and more supple than expected. From this angle, gazing upon the pactrid’s naked form, his imposing stature felt even larger than before.

Rym glanced at Callum’s probing fingers. “Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked, a hint of mirth in his voice.

“I’m sorry. Your body fascinates me.” Callum grimaced and shook his head. “Let me rephrase that: everything about you fascinates me.”

Frowning in confusion, Rym asked, “Why?”

Callum sighed, trying to detangle his thoughts in order to adequately convey his feelings. “You have a peculiar manner that begs to be uncovered and explored. The way you look at me—there’s an intensity in your eyes that excites me.” Rym’s bemused expression brought a faint laugh to Callum’s lips. “Sorry, it’s hard to explain how you make me feel, but I like it. I’ve never felt safer than by your side.”

“You’re the first human I’ve interacted with, and it’s not at all what I expected. Aside from the small lot of refugees, I assumed humans were all monsters. When I first saw you at my camp, I was scared for my life.”

Callum stared back in disbelief. “But you’re so much bigger than me. How could I scare you?”

“Humans always travel in packs. I expected more were nearby or in hiding. Size isn’t everything, pup. A swarm of insects can overpower an animal many times their size.”

“But I was alone. That’s why I ran.”

Eyes creased with regret, Rym reached out to caress Callum’s cheek—his thick hand encompassing his head instead. “I will never forgive myself for hitting you the way I did. I’m sorry, pup.”

Callum put his hand atop Rym’s own. “I told you, that was in the past. We were enemies—at least we thought we were. Please don’t fret over it.”

“I’ll try.” Rym’s warm hand slid down to rest on Callum’s chest. “As we travelled, I had to reconsider everything I believed about humans.”

Callum couldn’t help but look away in shame. “I was tricking you by ‘acting nice’ those first few days. I was mad at you—angry at the situation I was in, actively trying to escape.”

“I can’t blame you for wanting to flee, but . . . when I showed you the Spine from my memory—your reaction—was that a lie as well?”

Callum shook his head, recalling Rym touching his fallen tears. “That was genuine.”

“So, despite your deception, my beliefs in you were correct?”

“I guess so. But I need to understand what you see in me. What’s the attraction?” It felt strange to ask—almost narcissistic—but given their strange relationship, he felt it was a pertinent question. From the beginning, Rym was a closed book. That he was finally opening up was an unusual experience, and Callum was determined to learn as much as he could.

“How you observe your environment with such curiosity and awe.”

“What? You mean the trees?”

Rym nodded.

“Of course!” Callum exclaimed, gesturing to the forest encompassing them. “I’d seen nothing like it up close, to stand amongst them. They’re beautiful.”

Rym’s silver eyes glittered in delight. “You ask why I find you attractive? This is but one example. You say things that intrigue me, pup. And when you hold me tight, I feel your passion. You may be smaller than me, but you’re still powerful in your own way.”

Callum chuckled bashfully.

“I will admit,” Rym continued, “I am envious of your body.”

“My body? But it’s pitiful compared to yours.”

Rym stroked Callum’s chest and stomach—his fingers riding upon the taut muscle—then took Callum’s arm into his big hand, dwarfing it. “I told you, size isn’t everything. You’re strong, yet your movements are quick, dexterous. I’m slow and clumsy in comparison.”

The pactrid’s lumbering nature certainly played a part in Callum’s attraction, but right now, that fact felt inappropriate to share. The last thing he wanted was for Rym to feel self-conscience about his body.

“Then we can enjoy each other’s differences,” Callum said. “I feel lucky that, of all the pactrids I could’ve met, it was you. A rare chance that we’re both attracted to men—the male form.”

Rym straightened and frowned in confusion. “Why would that be rare?”

“Well, men such as myself aren’t the norm for humans. Most are only attracted to the opposite sex.”

Rym let out a rumbling laugh. “Really? How bizarre.”

“I assumed it’d be the same for pactrids.”

“No. Why would you limit yourself to one sex?”

“Well, some humans are open to relationships with either sex. But it’s . . . not really a choice. It just is.”

“How limiting.”

A smile broke across Callum’s face. “I suppose when you put it that way, you’re right.”

They shared a laugh and lay on their backs again. Callum shuffled over to rest his head on Rym’s shoulder, eliciting a deep grunt of approval from his friend. The sun and gentle breeze fulfilled their task of drying their skin, as well as lulled them to a state of drowsiness. Both welcomed it, soaking in the light’s warmth. Drifting between consciousness and sleep, Callum couldn’t recall a time when he felt this tranquil. As difficult as it was to concede, being forced to leave Anbera—his home—was the best thing that could’ve happened to him. Now, to have Rym by his side brought a level of contentment he found intoxicating. Even without a hint of what the future would bring, he was fearless.

● ● ●

The sun had fallen well into the trees by the time Callum and Rym returned to their camp at the village’s edge. In the distance, people milled about, finishing up the last tasks of their day. A touch of guilt washed over Callum—he’d abandoned his own afternoon chores to be with Rym. Despite the villagers’ deferential attitude toward both of them, he hoped his decision hadn’t raised any silent criticisms.

“Are one of those houses yours?” Rym asked while laying logs for a fire.

Callum pointed toward the line of buildings. “Not mine, specifically. I live there—the one with a wide porch—with two other men. Frederick the hunter, and Timm, a farmer.”

“Do you get along?”

“Sure. I suppose we have little in common, but they’re fine company.” Callum snapped a few branches to add as kindling. “What about you? When you got the message of my arrival, what were you doing?”

Rym settled himself—adjusting a blanket, then sitting cross-legged atop it. He regarded Callum with a serious gaze, considering the question. “I was part of a vanguard, organising a journey.”

The pactrid’s cryptic nature had returned. Callum decided this was simply Rym’s way. “A journey where?”

“I was grateful your message arrived when it did. Had it arrived mere days later, I would’ve never received it.” Rym was pivoting his query—dodging it. Callum was about to restate the question, but Rym held up a hand as though sensing its call. “I left the vanguard immediately. While travelling each day, I envisioned our reunion. But I questioned our relationship—what it was, what it could be. I worried my feelings toward you weren’t in line with your own.”

Once again, Rym’s words mirrored Callum’s own uncertainty regarding their affectionate bond. The pactrid patted the empty space on the blanket before him, inviting Callum to sit. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this, but the sudden gravitas of the act brought a flutter of concern to Callum’s belly. He sat opposite his friend in the same cross-legged manner, his legs touching Rym’s.

“When you saw me today, you ran,” Rym said. “You ran toward me with such determination—as though your life depended on it. My heart sung with joy to see this. You showed me what I hoped for.” He reached out and caressed Callum’s face again. “But now, there’s a question I must ask you, and I fear your answer.”

The concern on Rym’s face was too much to bear. Callum took his big hand into both of his, holding it close. “What is it?”

“You’ve suffered much strife, but now you have a new home with humans who welcome you. This gladdens me. However, what I wish to ask will abolish everything you’ve gained.” Rym swallowed before continuing. “You’ve come so far, but will you join me farther?”

“Where?” Callum stammered.

“Beyond the sea.”

Callum’s mouth hung open. His childhood memory flashed before his eyes—asking his father about sailing upon the sea. “I . . . don’t understand.”

“To the west, there are uninhabited lands. We, the pactrids, have made the decision to migrate there.”

“You’re leaving your homeland? Why?”

“The war, Cal’oom. We will never win it.”

Callum glanced about at the beauty surrounding them. “This isn’t worth fighting for?”

Rym’s grip tightened reflexively, his eyes narrowing. “We have been fighting. For so long. But humans are resilient creatures. They push, they take, they destroy!” He cast his eyes down—his grip loosening, fingers caressing Callum’s hands. “Our fighting only delays the inevitable, pup. I’ve shown you how deep the human invasion has reached. For now, our troops are holding the line, but no longer to protect our land. They hold it to allow us time to escape.”

A bitter union of anger and shame swelled within Callum’s being. “I’m so sorry, Rym.” His words felt empty. No amount of apology could account for the pain and misery his kind had laden onto the pactrids.

“The western lands have been proven viable. As scoutmaster, it’s my responsibility to lead a vanguard deeper, to help rebuild our civilisation.” A gentle finger brushed against Callum’s chin, lifting it up to hold his gaze. “I ask you, would you join me?”

“I—” Callum held his breath, overwhelmed by the proposition. “Would I be a scout, like you?”

“If you wish us to be together, yes. I could teach you many things.”

Uneasy exhilaration bubbled up within Callum at the prospect of mapping uncharted territory alongside Rym. He wanted to say ‘yes’, yet he was filled with so many questions. “But I’m human. I’m the reason your kind have to abandon your home.”

Rym poked a thick finger at Callum’s chest. “You’re not the reason for any of our hardships, pup. You’ve already proven yourself worthy to live amongst us.”

Despite his humbling words, Callum still felt the sting of accountability. Nothing would change the fact he was Anberan. That the pactrids were so forgiving only added to the simmering guilt. He let out a heavy sigh. There was nothing to gain by dwelling on this shame. “What about the sea? How do we cross it? Do you have ships?”

“Have you not seen the sea? The waves would destroy any vessel attempting to cross it.”

“I have, although never up close. Are the waves really that violent?”

“Indeed they are. In order to travel, we use the tenday gap to walk the seabed while the water follows the moon.” His brows creased fretfully. “But I will not hide the truth, pup. It is exceedingly dangerous. The seabed holds our lives in its hands while we cross, and it is a fickle thing. It cares not for our well-being.”

As frightening as it sounded, Callum couldn’t help but be intrigued by the idea of walking the sea floor. Exploring a place no one was meant to be. “Has anyone been lost while travelling it?”

Rym nodded gravely. “There’s no way to build travelling beacons. The power of the sea destroys them. A few natural landmarks exist, but nothing especially distinct. The sun and the stars are our trustworthy guides, but even they can prove tricky since they’re always moving.”

“Yes. I’ve always found the moon to be the easiest way to get my bearings.”

“That’s not possible for our journey. If we saw the moon, we would be lost—taken by the waves.” Rym straightened his back, taking in a deep breath. “Now you understand my hesitance in asking you to join me.”

Callum glanced at the village. The sky was darkening, the first stars twinkling on the eastern horizon. “But what about the human villages? Will you leave them stranded here?”

“No. Once enough settlements have been established, they will be invited to join us—to rebuild their homes and live amongst us. But this will be many cycles in the future.”

“Oh, I assumed your entire race was leaving soon.”

Rym shook his head. “I’m sorry I gave you that impression. This plan has only just begun. If you join me now, we would act as pioneers.”

Once again, the idea of discovering new lands with Rym brought a flurry of nervous excitement within Callum. He gave his friend a wide smile. “Then I’ll join you.”

The pactrid’s eyes widened with anticipation. “Truly?”

“It’s never something I’d consider doing on my own. But with you? Yes.”

Without warning, Rym awkwardly picked him up and held him in a tight embrace. Callum laughed, trying and failing to wrap his arms across Rym’s wide chest.

“My heart sings with joy yet again,” Rym said. “Thank you, pup.”

He sat Callum on his lap with one arm tucked around to hold him steady. Sitting so close to Rym again brought on a rush of happiness within Callum, followed by a wave of trepidation about what he just agreed to. Everything in his life had turned upside-down not that long ago. He’d only just begun to regain his bearings, and now he was about to be swept away on another adventure.

“When do we leave?” Callum asked. In a way, he hoped they’d have to depart soon. Even now, the anticipation of what was to come scratched at him impatiently. Having to wait would be difficult.

“A vanguard of twelve begins their journey every tenday, in synchronisation with the moon’s departure. As soon as the water recedes, they depart.”

“But you said you’d left the group of twelve upon receiving my message. What happened to the group you were part of?”

“It was no hardship on the vanguard. There is a temporary settlement where groups are organised. Another scout in waiting took my place.”

“Oh. So, should we leave tomorrow?”

Rym glanced at the deep azure sky, now nearly black beyond the roofs of the village. “We should prepare for the journey tomorrow, and leave at sunup the day after. Besides, wouldn’t you want to say farewell to your friends?”

Mortified, Callum cast his eyes down. In his excitement, he hadn’t considered that. “You’re right, of course. They’ve done so much for me. I don’t even know how to repay them.”

“Friendship isn’t about repayment, pup. Kindness is its own reward. Seeing how they regard you, I believe you’ve made a positive impact in their life.”

“I— I guess? I don’t know how.”

With his free hand, Rym caressed Callum’s arm. “I know how they feel. You make me happy.”

Callum still found himself unable to comprehend what he’d done to garner Rym’s admiration, but wasn’t about to ask. After all, he felt the same way about Rym. Why question what makes me happy? Just enjoy it. He leaned against Rym, laying a hand on the pactrid’s belly. “You make me happy, too.”

Rym uttered a low, rumbling hum in reply. “I only ask one thing when you say goodbye. You cannot tell anyone why you’re leaving, or where you’re going.”

“Why not?”

“We don’t want to cause undue panic amongst the population, pactrid and human alike. Once the settlements have been built, along with an evacuation protocol, then word will be sent out.”

Despite the warmth emanating from Rym’s bulk, Callum couldn’t repress a shudder from the cooling air. Rym sensed it and held him close again. They could’ve lit the fire, but the mere thought of letting Rym go was more than Callum could bear. All he yearned for right now was to be held, and Rym was more than willing to satisfy that need.