Stone Age Mama

Chapter Fifteen - Mother Trophies

-Summer-

Deenat yawned, stepping out into the midnight gloom. Staring at the weird instrument her sister had created, she decided not to touch it, lest she ruin some grand plan Belbet had put together. Reminded of her sister’s grand plans, she looked around their camp, taking in the hulking shapes in the dark. Where had her sister come up with all of these ideas?

Belbet had changed, after the fever. Quieter, more… steady. And far more involved with the children. She barely left them alone while they were with the tribe. Today, however, she’d made the mistake of letting Dahnei out of her sight while in the water. A rookie mistake, as if she’d forgotten her own encounter with a snakewoman.

Deenat glowered at the ground, her pretty face scrunching up like her son’s. She’d almost lost her baby sister that day, the vicious snake woman stealing her away. It’d taken half the tribe to take that thing down. They were lucky that today they’d had a mongoose-spirited person with them. Eefim was naturally better at fighting those creatures. Even as a child, he was sure to win against anything snake-ish. She couldn’t help the sharp sense of pride in her chest at this knowledge.

Her baby had swallowed a beast core, something normally reserved for tribal cheiftans. Sometimes, it is gifted to a strong, powerful warrior. But Deenat’s sister had just… given it to a child. If anything, it should have been Belbet’s, as she was tribal leader. But she had gifted it to Deenat’s son, instead of keeping it for herself.

Who knew how it would help Eefim grow? Who knew how strong he would be, having eaten one this young? She grinned as she started a new batch of willow tea. More signs of her sister, here by the fire, tiles of clay, one half-finished. She must have dozed off in the middle of it, and that prompted her to wake Deenat. How clumsy. How cute.

Deenat left the clay-making to those with more nimble fingers. She was not someone who had that skill. So, she focused on butchering more of the snake woman, tossing the offal and rotting bits of food into a pile to be used as fish-bait later. She was making slow work on getting the snakeskin off this thing too. The bones she put in a pile. She’d seen her sister whittle one of the finger-sized ones into something earlier, and had no doubt that Belbet had plans for the rest of the bones too. One of the ribs that curved into a length the size of her own fingertips to elbow, she kept, planning to carve it into a bone knife. She stole away several of the spinal bones, planning to carve them into beautiful beads for Eefim to wear. He had killed the thing, he deserved it.

When she got bored of cutting away meat and slicing between bones, she washed the bones she’d kept away. Then, she began the process of first, carving the knife, then, the beads (she made them little bear-heads, to give him strength), and finally, a set of combs, one for each of the people in the camp. It took her the rest of the night since she had so much practice at carving bones.

With the sun peaking over the horizon, she got to witness the waking of the camp once again. Specifically, she got to witness the big wolf hovering over at the edges of camp until her son woke up. Then, at the sight of Eefim coming out of the hut sleepily, it let out a huff. Eefim, as if in answer, tossed it some jerky from their storage. She stayed her tongue, having already agreed to Belbet’s insane plan of keeping the predator around. It took the food, chomped it down, tail wagging. Then, it looked up, and Eefim sighed, before taking one of the snake filets and throwing that at it too.

It ate that just as quickly, before making a whining noise. Eefim looked to his mother, and Deenat recognized the ‘am I going to be beaten for this’ look on his face. It took her a moment to figure out what he was referring to.

Then, she got it. “Yeah, go ahead. We’re not going to be able to eat all this.” She gestured to the snake. Her boy grinned, taking up two more of the slices and moving just a little closer. The wolf’s ears came forward, its tail standing straight up. It was worried. Eefim made small shushing noises he’d learned from Belbet. The ears didn’t lower, but the tail did. Eefim tossed one of the steaks to it.

The third steak wasn’t tossed until Eefim was within hands-distance of the beast. It caught it with a mighty snap of its jaws, and Eefim praised the beast. It huffed again, looked at Deenat’s boy, and then turned and trotted away, clearly recognising there was no more food incoming. Or perhaps just full? …Nah, she doubted that.

“It’s terrifying.” Kaion’s voice started her away from looking at her son. She turned to look at him. A virile male, one of the strongest looking ones she’d seen in years, honestly. But sick right now, and therefore not appropriate for breeding. She tilted her head, giving him her attention.

“Why?”

“The wolf could eat Eefim instead.”

“It won’t.” Eefim chimed in, so close. “He knows the food stops if he bites me.”

“How can you be so sure?” Kaion demanded, and Eefim paused, eyes turned up as if thinking.

“...I just know. I can tell.” Eefim decided. “Besides, it worked with the chicken.” He pointed to the bird, which had escaped the house at the same time Eefim had and was now heading to it’s pile of snake offal and grasses.

“...Belbet decided to keep the chicken too?” Kaion asked, confirming.

“Yes.” Deenat snapped, the heat that came with defending her sister rising in her chest. How dare this man look down on her sister’s strangeness.

The man’s ears lowered, and he looked away from Deenat, a sign she took to mean he wasn’t pressing his luck. “I only meant that it is… strange, the way your sister’s mind works.”

“So what if it’s strange?” Deenat asked, raising an eyebrow. “She is a mother, she has two healthy children, a third on the way, she can be as strange as she wants, so long as it doesn’t get us killed.”

The man was handsome, sure, but he clearly didn’t have much going on between those big horns, if Deenat was any judge. He shook his head, brow scrunched. “She’s fed us all well so far. I have no complaints.”

“Good.” Deenat huffed a breath through her nose. She looked down the length of the comb, seeing that it was a little crooked. She sighed and set about straightening it, “That settles it then. Eefim, think you can catch us some more chickens? Live?”

Eefim made a cute little moue with his lips that Deenat wanted to smoosh to make it go away. “...I can.”

“Then do so. It’ll make your aunt smile.”

“But breakfast?” Eefim whined.

“You’ll be back in plenty of time. And if you aren’t I’ll save you some.” She swatted the air as if it were his excuses. “Go on. Get going.”

Eefim grumbled, but picked up his bow and the arrows his aunt had taught him to make. He headed into the woods, leaving Deenat alone in the quiet before-dawn camp with the ram once again.

“If you’re here to sire more children, you’re out of luck. Belbet’s pregnant, I’m infertile, and Dahnei is far too young.” Deenat declared, trying to figure out what was up with this strange man. Her knife sheered some of the bone from the comb she was carving. “Heis ill-fated sister took too much with her when she left me. I’ll never have another baby.” She gestured her head in Eefim’s direction.

“How sad,” Kaion said, his condolences clear in his words. “You must treasure him greatly, then. And no, I am not here to sire more children.”

Deenat believed that about as much as she believed the snake woman was alive still. But she didn’t call him out on it. Some males liked to wait between siring children. Some didn’t. Whatever he chose to do, she would keep an eye on him. If Belbet was worried he was going to hurt them, then Deenat would do everything she could to make sure he didn’t.

“As I said, I grew bored with my tribe. I’m seeking… newness. And your tribe provides quite handily. I don’t want to do anything to put it at risk.”

That, she believed. Still, she sniffed as if she didn’t, and turned back to her carving. One comb finished, she set it aside to be used. She picked up one of the vertebrae she’d grabbed, and started whittling it down.

“What are you making?” Kaion asked.

She raised an eyebrow, “Has no mother made trophies for you before? My son slew a snake-woman. He deserves beads to decorate his hair or his neck. These-” She tapped the comb and extra bone with her knife, “Are combs, to make combing hair easier. Mohniit cries if it is done by hand.”

“Mothers, no.” Kaion admitted, “My own mother did not survive my birth. But I have had mates make gifts for me.”

“That makes sense.” She nodded. He was a strong (at least, based on his bone structure) man, and clearly attractive. “Were you a hunter for your tribe?”

“Sometimes. Others, I put together baskets, fished. I would gather with the children sometimes.” Kaion shrugged, “The Elk tribe followed herds of elk, and it was my job to return any elk that were too young to their herd.”

“You’ll make a good shepherd then when we can find some sheep and goats to tame.” Belbet’s voice joined their conversation as she emerged from the hut. Behind her were her children, both sleepy but awake. Their hair was truly a trainwreck, and Deenat took the opportunity to hand her sister the comb by its handle. “Oh! A comb! Thank you, Deenat. This’ll make life a lot easier.”

Kaion spent a few minutes watching Belbet comb out her own long hair, before twisting it into a thick braid. Then, Belbet moved on to combing first her daughters, pulling it into two braids she secured with small strips of leather, and then her son’s hair, but he fussed when she went to braid it, so she left his down in a glossy dark curtain.

Belbet grinned, “Shall I comb your hair too, Kaion?”

The male snorted, “Combs make my hair uncontrollable.” He shook his head, the curls weighed down only by the oils of his hair.

“That’s because you don’t use oils to protect the curls.” Belbet commented, moving instead to start combing Deenat’s hair. She put up with her sister’s ministrations, telling herself she didn’t enjoy the teeth stroking through her own pale white hair. “If we can make some oil that isn’t animal-based, we can use it to oil your curls, and then they’ll be easy to brush. Hell, since you’re a ram, you might make your own lanolin, which would do the same.”

Deenat could feel her sister’s mind work in the slow strokes of the comb in her hair, and then in the tight tug of her fingers as she plaited it. But she wasn’t doing it the normal way. She was… braiding it upside down? Somehow? And very close to the skin. Deenat tried to pay attention to what her sister’s fingers were doing, but it was impossible. By the end, Deenat couldn’t feel any hair along the back of her neck. Belbet tucked and twisted, and all of Deenat’s hair was in a ring around her head, braided.

“That… is amazing.” Kaion commented, eyes wide.

“Oh, this is just a crown french braid. It’s not anything speci-” Belbet’s voice tapered off at the end, as Deenat felt out the crown with her fingers. “Oh. Well, yeah. It’s something I figured out some time ago. I haven’t had the chance to test it until today, so… thanks, Sister! It turned out well. It makes you even prettier.”

Deenat frowned, shaking her head, “How is it… staying?” She asked, because although it did pull a little uncomfortably, and it was heavy, it was still not touching her shoulders. Dahnei came over and touched her aunts hair too, feeling the swirling strands.

“Oh, I tied it.” Belbet smiled, “It’ll stay for the most part, so long as you aren’t jumping all over the place or running like crazy.” She tapped the comb against her leg, before sighing, “We should start putting the finished tiles on the roof. We’ve got a long, long time before we’ll have enough tiles to cover the whole roof, so let’s get to work okay?”

“Breakfast?” Mohniit reminded. Belbet smiled, and smudged her son’s cheeks with the back of her fingers.

“We can have leftovers from last night.” Deenat’s sister sighed softly, going to put the pot on the fire. If she was aware of the curious stare of the male in their group, or the worried one of her sister, she didn’t say anything.