Listen to the Water | FULL SERIES | Wattys 2022 Shortlist | ✔

(30) Telu

I drop the dagger as my arms turn to jelly. No, that's too much weakness to show. He's said hi to me, so I sheathe my weapon and return the sign limply as he offloads enough food for both of us in the middle of the cave. His motions are much too bright for the situation, and certainly for the energy he expended yesterday or the state in which he spent last night. When I finally steel my expression enough to dare lighting my hands, I'm met with his smile—the one that would do sunshine proud.

When was the last time I saw him smile?

I can't actually remember. I probe my memories while he sorts and cleans the variety of seafood he brought back with him.

Five days. The last time I saw it was before his tribe and the other Shalda people we met parted ways.

Is that really only five days ago? It feels like moons.

Taiki breaks through my thoughts. He gives me more than half the food and wanders to the cave entrance like he forgot about the rest. His smile slips when he's not facing me. Is it real? I clear my throat and his head whips around. After a moment of confusion, the smile brightens again as easily as lit kindling. I don't think he's faking it. That just makes it more disconcerting.

"Are you going to eat?" I ask, indicating the food he left on the rock in front of me.

"You first."

He's watching out the cave entrance again before I can reply. I can live with that. I dig a juicy-looking crab from the pile and search the cave for a rock to crack it. I haven't had crab in ages. This one proves surprisingly easy to disassemble, its pale shell thinner than the ones we would drag up in traps on Telu. I make quick work of the body and then take my time sucking the meat from each leg as I watch Taiki at the doorway. He moves like a bird, head twitching at every flicker of motion, or whatever else he sees. He's usually alert, but this is a little excessive.

Two fish and a handful of shrimp later, I'm done. I drop the rest on Taiki's pile; I'm full, and I don't understand why he gave me more than I could eat. Taiki is still watching the water. I stretch out my tail and flick him with it.

He starts again, like he's forgotten I'm here. "You can have it," he signs without a pause, and flashes me a grin for good measure.

"I'm done."

"I don't need any."

Did he eat while hunting? This makes twice now that he's given me most of the food, and barely touched any himself. Worry nags the back of my mind. I ignore it. I'm not about to leave food uneaten down here, though, so I do a fruitless scan of the cave for anything remotely bag- or string-like. There is a lot of slick brown algae and a lot of rocks.

Why am I doing this myself?

"Hey Taiki."

I'm glad he doesn't instantly smile when he glances over his shoulder this time.

I indicate the uneaten food. "Is there anything to pack this up with?"

He looks it over, then disappears outside. He's back soon with a large, broad strap of suspiciously slimy seaweed. It's so rotten, I can poke holes through it with my finger. Still, I'm not about to hide out in another cave without food on hand. I tie the strap in a loose knot and pack the remaining fish, shrimp, and shellfish into it. Then I tie it to my belt. Does carrying food make me bait for predators?

Taiki gives the food package a worried look as I join him at the mouth of the cave. It's probably bait. My first instinct is to rip it off and leave it behind, but I force myself to squash that feeling. When I'm hungry next, I want food, and not food I have to wait for a Kel to bring to me. I'm a survivor. I should be allowed this small scrap of autonomy.