There’s a sharp, piercing pain at the base of Arthur’s skull when he wakes, and below that a deep, dull ache that tells him he’s been out for a while. He grunts and levers up to his elbows, then touches the back of his head. When he touches the back of his head, his hand comes away bloody.
“Uh,” he grunts. “Uh uh uh.”
From the mouth of the cave comes a low rustling sound, and Arthur struggles to his feet, casting around for something to use as a weapon. His hands scrabble along the walls -- he comes up with nothing.
“Uh!” he says again, forcefully.
By the light of the fire, Arthur can see a man moving towards him -- tall, he thinks, broad-shouldered, thick of neck. Arthur steps back and holds up his hands, though they’ll be no match for the large stick the man is carrying. He’ll go down swinging, though. If he can stay on his feet.
“Hnn,” the man says. He steps closer and the light of the fire burning low in the center of cave illuminates his face.
“Uh uh,” Arthur says. He drops his fists. Eames, again. “Uh,” Arthur says, shaking his head.
“Hnn,” Eames says. He steps closer, warily, and extends a hide to Arthur. It’s damp, and Arthur accepts it gingerly and presses it to the wound on the back of his head. “Hnn?”
“Uh,” Arthur says. “Uh uh uh.” He wants to throw the hide at Eames’ feet and storm out of the cave -- this is the third time Eames has clubbed Arthur over the head and dragged him back here to proposition him -- but there’s something in the sad set of Eames’ shoulders that stops him.
Arthur sighs. “Uh,” he says.
Eames nods sadly. He gestures around the cave, showing Arthur the size fire, the rabbits roasting above it -- Arthur had been so disoriented he hadn’t even noticed them, but now he has, his mouth is watering -- the find drawings carved into the side of the cave. Arthur sighs again.
He sits down. “Uh uh uh uh,” he says. “Uh uh uh uh uh uh.”
Eames nods eagerly and goes to take the spit off the fire. He smiles when he brings the meat over, offering it to Arthur with a soft smile. Arthur rolls his eyes, but accepts it. The meat is hot and greasy and drips all over his fingers and chin. It’s delicious.
“Hnn,” Eames says when he’s done. He wipes his fingers on his furs. “Hnn?”
Arthur nods and licks his fingers clean. The ache in his head has eased, and his belly is full, and it’s so warm in the cave. He sighs and reaches for Eames and kisses the taste of smoked meat off his mouth.
Eventually, he supposes, he’s going to have to let Eames make an honest man of him. But not today, not when the chase is so merry.
and now my shame is compete
“Uh,” he grunts. “Uh uh uh.”
From the mouth of the cave comes a low rustling sound, and Arthur struggles to his feet, casting around for something to use as a weapon. His hands scrabble along the walls -- he comes up with nothing.
“Uh!” he says again, forcefully.
By the light of the fire, Arthur can see a man moving towards him -- tall, he thinks, broad-shouldered, thick of neck. Arthur steps back and holds up his hands, though they’ll be no match for the large stick the man is carrying. He’ll go down swinging, though. If he can stay on his feet.
“Hnn,” the man says. He steps closer and the light of the fire burning low in the center of cave illuminates his face.
“Uh uh,” Arthur says. He drops his fists. Eames, again. “Uh,” Arthur says, shaking his head.
“Hnn,” Eames says. He steps closer, warily, and extends a hide to Arthur. It’s damp, and Arthur accepts it gingerly and presses it to the wound on the back of his head. “Hnn?”
“Uh,” Arthur says. “Uh uh uh.” He wants to throw the hide at Eames’ feet and storm out of the cave -- this is the third time Eames has clubbed Arthur over the head and dragged him back here to proposition him -- but there’s something in the sad set of Eames’ shoulders that stops him.
Arthur sighs. “Uh,” he says.
Eames nods sadly. He gestures around the cave, showing Arthur the size fire, the rabbits roasting above it -- Arthur had been so disoriented he hadn’t even noticed them, but now he has, his mouth is watering -- the find drawings carved into the side of the cave. Arthur sighs again.
He sits down. “Uh uh uh uh,” he says. “Uh uh uh uh uh uh.”
Eames nods eagerly and goes to take the spit off the fire. He smiles when he brings the meat over, offering it to Arthur with a soft smile. Arthur rolls his eyes, but accepts it. The meat is hot and greasy and drips all over his fingers and chin. It’s delicious.
“Hnn,” Eames says when he’s done. He wipes his fingers on his furs. “Hnn?”
Arthur nods and licks his fingers clean. The ache in his head has eased, and his belly is full, and it’s so warm in the cave. He sighs and reaches for Eames and kisses the taste of smoked meat off his mouth.
Eventually, he supposes, he’s going to have to let Eames make an honest man of him. But not today, not when the chase is so merry.