She entwined her fingers with his, atop his naked torso and rested her chin on his shoulder.

"I have missed you," she murmured.

"Hmm," he responded.

"Did you miss me?"

He shrugged in a off-hand way. "Not so much, no."

She unravelled her hand and jabbed him hard in the ribs.

"Aii," he said, laughing. "Okay, okay, maybe a bit."

He caught her finger and kissed it before trailing his mouth over her hand, up her arm and towards her lips where he kissed her softly.

"But only a bit," he said.

She knotted her hand into a fist and punched him in the side.

He grunted and grabbed her fist, but she brought her other hand up to pinch him. Rolling on top of her, he grabbed her other hand, and pinned both above her head.

"I can feel how much you didn't miss me," she said, positioning her hips beneath him so he rested at her opening.

He bent his head to kiss her breasts. First one, then the other, and as he slid inside her, she sighed.

She had missed him, the feel of him against her, inside her. The time of her healing had been considerable, and while she had seen him often, she could not touch him with so many eyes about. Not the way she ached too.

She did not last long, already spent from an afternoon of lovemaking.

She buried her face in his shoulder as she cried out, and soon after, he collapsed atop her.

"I did miss you," he mumbled into her neck.

She stroked the back of his head, letting her fingers sink into his thick, tight curls. "I know."

He sighed, and slid out of her, rolling back onto his side. She shivered in his absence. Summer had come to an end far earlier than usual and the smell of first frost was in the air.

"We should go back before we rouse suspicion," he said, sitting up and reaching for his clothing.

She sat up and did the same, careful to cover the still raw scar first. She had been shy about removing her clothes in front of him, afraid the marred pink skin of her leg would repulse him, but he had made no mention of it.

Pulling his tunic over his head, he paused, titling his head to listen.

"Do you hear that?" he asked.

"Hear wha-" she cut off as the sound a scream pierced the late afternoon.

"That came from the camp," he said, jumping to his feet and sprinting towards the sound.

Ayessa struggled into her clothing and followed after. She was a fast runner, but not as fast as Makaro, and it wasn't long before she lost sight of him.

The shouts grew louder as she approached the camp, and when she broke through the tree line it was into chaos.

The tents closest to the woods were ablaze and heavy, black smoke coiled up through the air. A small group of women made a protective circle around the smaller children and outside of that, men slaughtered men.

"Ayessa!" a voice called out, and she turned just in time to avoid the spear of a stranger.

She ducked to the side and pulled her knife, coming back up around the man's fur-clad, defenseless side and slamming it into the space between his shoulder and his neck. He fell, and she grabbed his spear where it tumbled from limp hands.

With her foot, she rolled the dead man over. Skin the colour of old hide and eyes a shade a blue she had never seen.

There was a choking gasp behind her, and she spun in time to see Eshemwa kick another corpse to the side, his spear coated in blood.

"Pay attention," he growled, before turning and joining the fray again.

Hoisting her stolen spear, she dove into the fight. She tried to find Makaro, but dodging the spear thrusts of the strange pale-skinned men, there was no real time to look. She cut down two more men and took a slash across the ribs for her trouble. Her hide tunic absorbed the worst of it, but the gash would sting later when there was time to feel it.

Time slowed, and the world narrowed down to her and the press of bodies around her. She fought for a moment, beside Yaoum, and thought she saw him go down, but she could not stop to check lest she go down herself.

When the last invader fell, it was with surprise that Ayessa noted the sun had barely moved at all. What had seemed like days had only been mere moments.

The afternoon had turned warm from the heat of the fire and beads of sweat rolled down her face and between her breasts.

Satsai, Akouma's mate, grabbed armfuls of dirt and began scooping it over the fires. Ayessa dropped her spear and joined her.

The tents, their wooden frames collapsed, were nothing more than charred heaps.

In the end, their losses were three tents and five men, Yaoum amongst them.

Taboua held Fakeem, his mate and stroked her hair, whispering gentle words in her ear while she wailed.

Ayessa's own throat was tight with loss. She had known these men, grown up beside them, been raised by them. She had been there the day Yaoum took Fakeem to his tent.

Guilt grew within her. If she and Makaro had been in the camp instead of hiding in the trees, would it have made a difference? If they had been listening, would they have noticed the sounds of strangers in the woods and been able to call out the alarm? How much life had been lost because they had been too caught up in their own pleasure?

"We will break camp and head south," Atua was saying. "The herds will move soon anyway."

"Why did they come?" Satsai asked. "We have never seen them before. What did they want?"

"I do not know," Atua said, "but some of the other clans may."

He turned to Obu. "Take some of your hunters, travel west towards the Big Water. See if you can find one of the other clans. And take Makaro, he will know Bene's people if you can find them."

Obu nodded. "Eshemwa, Makaro, Umeke, Ayessa, Akouma, Pradna, Jovek."

Oyeka frowned. "What of me?"

"Stay and help your father," Obu said. "Today you are the chieftain's son, not a hunter. He will need you in this."

Oyeka nodded, but ran a worried hand across the top of his head. "We will head south, through the winter grounds. You will know where to find us?"

"The herd is not hard to track," Obu said. "We will find you." He turned and clapped his hands. "The rest of you, come. We have far to go and little light left. I want to leave before it is dark."

Ayessa dipped into her own tent, but watched as Umeke hung back to speak with Oyeka.

"You will be safe, eh?" Umeke said.

"Of course," Oyeka replied. "Not all the hunters are going with you."

Umeke grinned. "No, just the best ones."

Oyeka snorted. "You are boastful, Umeke. Go on, get out of here."

Umeke grinned wider and with a laugh he said, "I am as I am, Oyeka. Would you have me be any other way?"

"Ah, go," Oyeka said. "You are taking up space."

When he turned to go, Oyeka hesitated then called out, "Umeke."

Umeke glanced over his shoulder.

"Be safe," Oyeka said.