The Moonlit Curse

Ch 11: Fair Trade

Kiya shifted the basket of spiced buns to her left hand so she could rotate her aching right shoulder and stretch her arm. The work she'd put into kneading dough and the near constant tension she'd felt since August joined her in the kitchen was causing a consistent, dull cramping radiating up her neck and down her back and arm.

That tension grew tenfold when August tilted his head to look down at her. She refused to meet his eyes, hoping beyond hope that he would just look ahead again and keep his mouth shut. If he brought up the ridiculous notion of werewolves again, she would have to try to make good on her threat. She wasn't so sure she could take him down this time. "How are your injuries?" he finally asked.

"Healing," was her simple answer, and immediately changed the subject. "You said that you didn't grow up with Hadyn's traditions. Where are you from originally?"

"East." His response was as brusque as hers and shut down the conversation just as quickly.

Sensitive topic. She could respect that. Or not. If he started putting his nose where it didn't belong again, she had something to poke at without completely crossing into the realm of blatant disrespect.

They fell back into an uncomfortable silence. Silence wasn't supposed to be uncomfortable. In fact, quite the opposite. Silence was supposed to be a sign that everything was in order. That nothing was wrong, and all was well. Silence with her team meant they were focused on their given task and coordinating well. Silence with Red, in particular, meant she could let her guard down.

August was a quiet man. Kiya figured that out on the day they arrived in Silverkeep when the majority of his vocalizations came in the form of grunts and one-word responses. She was fine with that. Is fine with that. Should have continued to be fine with that, goddess damnit!

But there she was, in silence broken only by the crunch of the snow under their boots. A silence that didn't seem to bother August one little bit but made her skin crawl and ate away at her patience.

This quiet made everything in her head that much louder. The circular thoughts around her injury, the story Hadyn told her, and her place in the military churned louder and louder until she wondered if everyone else could hear the rusty, ill-fitted gears grinding together. She didn't really want to talk to August, but he was the only one around to fill the damn void. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"Butcher," he replied with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Confusion replaced the awkward tension in less than a second as they reached the shop across the road. Instead of going through the front door, August headed to an open-air workshop in the back where three people stood around a table. An enormous caribou carcass lay between two men with hunting bows on their backs, and a woman holding the biggest cleaver Kiya had ever seen. The men appeared to be attempting to haggle, but the unamused sneer on the butcher's face said that she was having absolutely none of it.

"Good morning," August called, and all three of them turned.

"August," the butcher smiled and raised a hand to wave. "I'll be with you in a moment. These idiots are trying to talk me into paying twice as much as this cow is worth."

"Awe, come on, Jeanie," one of the men begged. "Look at her. She's huge. She's got to be worth more than your usual fee!"

"She's huge because she's in perfect shape, idiot," she snapped back. "You know the code. Old and lame first, leave the breeding females and the fawns alone. You're lucky she's not pregnant, and you're damn lucky Mister Eldred left town before he saw this."

"Jeanie," the second man tried this time. "Cut us some slack. It's been a hard year for us."

"It's been a hard year for everyone, Collin." Her voice was still sharp as her blade, but Jeanie's eyes softened somewhat. "Look, I'll pay you my regular for the cow. When I'm done, you can have first pick at a discount and take the antlers free for the dogs. Fair?"