It was my great pleasure when next Baday waddled into our private sleeping area that Umyu rose, turned and stared down the overweight and smelly being. In Umyu’s slim hands, she held tight a club that she’d made with a thick branch, thorns bristling all around.
Baday seemed amused, sniffing and jutting her hairy chin in jerks. She turned seemingly to walk away and then whirled, catching Umyu off guard, trying to slap the club to the ground. With ease she dislodged it, but it now was stuck to her wrist, possibly a thorn to the bone. She whopped in pain.
Grunting and sniffing loudly the air, Baday’s next-in-line suitor charged forward, black puffy hand’s clenched. His whole body swung to turn his massive head, while he tried to determine what was going on.
Umyu, shaking her stinging hands from the blow when the club was knocked from them, motioned me to make them leave.
It was everlastingly my finest and happiest day. Umyu that night turned to me and allowed our first mating.
From the time the girl was given to me, that is to say when she finally stopped crying, she made an attempt to teach me to speak her language from the world which she came. She tried to explain it, but I had no way to visualize it. She made it clear that one day she hoped to return to it with me and our offspring. I’d smile, but I knew I would never have the courage to leave the high mountains and the hairy men, leave the only world I’d ever known. And so I hoped she’d never be rescued, but it was not to be.
Umyu called me Fellow. Some days, when the wind is quiet, I believe I can hear her voice, calling to me across the mountains. ...
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