Stone Circle the last page turned is a perfect excuse to write a whole new book.

She’d been flitting about with nervous energy the entire journey, half-elated, half-terrified, wholly anticipating what Taktuq and Gunnar will say about her bringing an unfamiliar man home with her at the tail-end of breeding season. The knowledge that they’d know she’d stayed with him was more than a little humiliating. Tak was scarcely older than she, but in many ways she viewed them both as sort of parental figures. And she couldn’t bare the thought of Gunnar thinking about her at all in that context. But she couldn’t wait to see them.

And then Skáld… what would he think of Fig? What if he felt he was being replaced, or was unwanted now? Their lack of mutual language had hindered them on more than one occasion, and she worries now more than ever about how he might take this. She would have to wait to introduce them, she needed to talk with Skáld first. But… where would Fig sleep? He couldn’t stay with them at Tréheim. That just wasn’t a good idea.

Even now, as their eyes sync his lightest touch snakes energy into her. She senses his unease, a sentiment they share, but she is irrepressible. Can they not allay the doubt together? She dances along Fig’s side, pinching teeth behind a velvet ear and nudging her wet nose into his dark flank before wheeling back- goading him into a game of chase and eager for the feeling of being caught.

He’s anxious, but she desperately wants him to like it. Even if this was not forever. She wanted to share Kvarsheim with him. And so suddenly Kvarsheim is there standing before them in the shape of Gunnar’s stoic figure and silver questioning.

Mortifying! Briskly she peels herself off Fig to freeze, eyes holding sheepishly wide beneath flattened ears.

“Gunnar! It's so good to see you! This is my…” What was he exactly?

Boyfriend? Friend boy? Therapist? Guy-who-probably-knocked-me-up? None of those felt right. 

“Fig.” She finishes after an uncomfortable lull.