The first rays of dawn pierced the cracks in the cave wall, casting a soft, ethereal glow across the stone. The air was cool and damp, thick with the scent of moss and earth. Rami stirred, her lashes fluttering as the coils around her shifted—tightening just enough to draw a soft groan from her lips.
Yves moved, his body aching from the transformation. The weather made it harder to hold his dual form, but he endured it without complaint. With careful precision, he lifted Rami from his coils and placed her gently onto the crude nest of moss and feathers. His golden eyes—now fading back to their usual deep blue—lingered on her face. A lock of hair had fallen across her cheek. He reached out, brushing it away, his fingers trailing across her skin longer than necessary.
"Females really are good for holding while sleeping," he murmured to himself, voice low and rumbling.
He pulled back, rising to his full height, and crossed to the far corner of the cave. There, buried beneath a pile of hides and furs, he began to search. His hand closed around a particularly soft one. He brought it to his nose, sniffing deeply. His brow furrowed. The scent was faint—lingering, unfamiliar. Not good enough.
He moved again, deeper into the cave, and retrieved a larger fur. This one was better. Satisfied, he returned to the nest and lifted Rami effortlessly with one arm. She didn't stir. He carried her to the pile of furs and laid her down with care. She nuzzled into the softness, a sleepy smile tugging at her lips.
Yves watched her for a moment longer, then turned his attention to the nest. He adjusted the moss and feathers, smoothing them into a more comfortable shape. The space felt warmer now.—also with his scent, that way no predator would just swoop in without thought.
Once satisfied, he glanced at Rami again. Still asleep.
'Do females sleep that much?'
The temperature outside had risen enough for him to leave. With one last look at her face, he stepped out of the cave, following a pebble-strewn path that wound toward the forest behind the clan's basin.
"Females have sensitive noses," he mused, bare feet crunching against the forest floor. His destination was a small waterfall tucked between the rocks—a place he knew well. There, he could wash the remaining furs and maybe catch a fish or two for their morning meal.
The scent of wet stone and rushing water grew stronger as he approached. Mist curled around him, cool and clean, a welcome contrast to the jungle's heat.
He stepped into it without hesitation.