Two Worlds (closed for DeathsKnight)

I heard Chris move around and talk soothingly to Herta not to far away. I couldn't understand what he said, but she came running into my room and jumped on my bed, licked my face.

I pressed my lips close together. She very carefully licked the last traces of the pemmican from around my mouth.

For a millisecond I had a clear view of Chris with the pups and my stuff in his arms, then Herta jumped down and made herself comfortable with her pups.

I strained my eyes, laying flat on my back my field of vision was limited.

Chris put my stuff in a wardrobe, and left after he switched off the light.

For a while the pressure of the straps against my muscles was a wonderful feeling. Then it started to annoy me. And I gnawed my teeth. Because I was not able to pull hard at the straps. I couldn't lift my head and my upper body to get enough leverage.

Suddenly a heavy weight on my chest made me yelp. Herta had jumped up on the bed again. She walked around somewhat, and sniffed here and there, licked my face again and laid down with her head on my shoulder. Softly I told her what had happened

After a while the pups started to whimper and she got up and dropped them unceremoniously at my side close to the wall. They wriggled around, and got comfortable. Herta laid down again too and I might have dozed off somewhat because I suddenly was thirsty. I waited until I was very, very thirsty before I called Chris.

I was busy cleaning and sharpening the hunting knives, the kennels had been cleaned out, dinner have been placed on the stove and outside dark clouds was looming on the horizon. All and all it was just another day, then my name came drifting from the hallway. I got up and walked to the room in which I had left Eydis and her dog and puppies, turning the rheostat I noticed that the dogs were gone and immediately found them on the bed. I frowned at this, but didn't say anything.

I stepped up to her and saw the dry lips, most likely she was thirsty. I released the strap which secured her head, "You called?"

"You called?"

Relieved I moved my head around, lifted it, used the gained leverage to pull at the straps. It felt good. The itch hadn't lessened, but I was more able to distract myself from it. Fighting my urge to snap at Chris helped too.

"Yes. I can't reach the water."

I picked up the glass and held the straw at her lips, waiting for her to drink as much water as she needed. "The kennels is ready, dinner is also on the stove. When you feel a bit better, I'll bring food for you and Bertha. Tomorrow we can get the hut ready for you and perhaps you can help me to harvest some of the wheat and maize. I am running a bit low on maize meal and I love maize porridge."

I sucked at the straw, and gulped the water down as fast as I could. I was parched. That pemmican had been sucking the water in my body into my stomach.

"I could do with a few buckets of cold water and a tub to sit in for a little while. I'll be better for dinner. And I'll gladly help you harvest tomorrow." My voice had been hoarse when I called for him, but now, after the water it sounded much better.

"And it is Herta, not Bertha. Don't ask me what that name means, or where it comes from, it was the name of the first dog my parents had and we had a Herta around ever since." I sighed, licked my lips.

I refilled the glass and nodded, "Herta it is." I received a slight wag of a tail for that, "I'll fill one of the tubs for you, I'll be back as fast as I can." Heading out I wondered for a brief moment if I could untie her, but decided against it. Filling two huge trolley buckets with ice blocks from the freezer, I push and pull them towards one of the bathrooms, I threw the ice into a tub and then filled the tub half way with water. I returned to Eydis' room and started to unstrap her, being careful for the slight chance that she might want to claw my eyes out. "The tub is ready, I do hope you know that long exposure to ice water isn't good for you."

I unstrapped her legs last and stepped back, allowing space for her to get off of the bed on her own steam and if she didn't manage that I was still close enough to offer a supporting shoulder.

"The tub is ready, I do hope you know that long exposure to ice water isn't good for you."

The water had been good. I licked my lips, told Herta to get her pups away from me, they had woken up from the commotion and where worming around. One by one she carried them back to the corner and settled down to let them drink.

"I just need the shock!" I had balled my fists when Chris started to unstrap me, and kept them balled as he freed my legs.

I swung my legs from the bed as soon as Chris stepped back, and sat up in one move. Chris was moving back, far back, the rest of the room disappeared. I got to my feet, and wobbled a bit. I almost fell, so I stepped forward, and kept moving.

"Bathroom where?" I hollered at Chris. I had to teach him our whistled signs, whistles carried much farther through the air than yelling and it was much less strenuous on the vocal cords.

She was shouting again, for some strange reason she seemed to want to keep pushing herself. Well until she passed out again, I shook my head and caught up with her, she was wobbly so I took hold of her arm just above her elbow to help stabilize her a bit. "I will guide you, just keep walking."

It was quite easy really, as strong-willed as she was, it seemed that her body just wasn't agreeing with her just yet. I steered her to the bathroom and up to the bath tub. "There you go." I turned away to offer her some privacy, but didn't want to quite leave her alone in a tub full of water.

Suddenly Chris was beside me and grabbed my arm. It made it a lot easier to walk for me. My free hand I trailed along the wall, my feet moved, some strides longer than others, but I moved forward nicely enough.

I simply needed to keep moving, I needed to do, needed to move, otherwise the itching would drive me mad. And if I didn't move, didn't do, I would snarl and fight. Grinding my teeth I walked through a door and stood in yet another room. How many rooms did this beehive have?

"There you go."

A bathtub. But not like one of ours at all. This one didn't stand on four short legs, it wasn't made out off wood. It was filled with water and little clear chunky bits. Whatever they were, I needed to feel cool water against my skin and lifted a foot to get into it. At the same time I reached for the belt around my loincloth and found it missing, as was the breast-band. Surprised I raised my eyebrows.

"Darn! Darn, darn darn!" Spluttering and shaking I turned around in the tub and sat up. My hand had been to slow to find a halt against the wall behind the tub and to stabilize me when I started to tumble. "This is cold! That is ice!"

First she sputtered curses and then exclaimed that it was ice in the tub, I just couldn't help but look at her and had to work hard at not laughing at her as she sat in the tub with an incredulous look on her face, "Well yes, you did say that you want ice water, so now you have ice water." I was once more reminded that she was not one of us, whatever there was left of instalations such as this.

I realized that I was staring and turned my back on her once more, "Why all the Darning? You forget or lost something?"

I grabbed my braids, wrung them.

"Why all the Darning? You forget or lost something?"

A shiver ran over my whole body.

"The first darn was for falling in, the second for the ice pieces -it is like falling in the creek in the deepest of the winter! The third for getting my hair wet, the fourth for getting my loincloth and breast band wet. I wanted to take them off, but missed with my hand! Both times, and then I fell. Do you make the ice in the freezer? Did you chop up a bucket with frozen water? That was too much trouble, Chris."

Looking at his back, I fumbled at the wet leather belt around my loincloth. I wasn't sure if I wanted to sit down in the ice again. It tinkled around in the tub when I moved. My feet didn't itch anymore ...

I hung my loincloth over a rail above the tub. The belt too. And my breast band. The bows and knots were difficult to open, wet as they were, and cold as my fingers were.

Slowly I lowered myself in the tub again, exhaling a deep breath very slowly as more of the water covered me. My body pushed the ice cubes away and they floated around, touched each other, pushed each other against the tub.

My feet felt icy, and I put them on the rum, slipping deeper in the water.

I almost turned around...almost. Not sure why I suddenly got all modest around her, not like I haven't seen her completely naked before. I just kept my eyes focused on the other side of the room until I heard her settle into the water. Then I took a seat on a dust bin, leaning forward, my elbows resting on my knees and my fingers slightly entwined with each other.

"I made it in the freezer. It is there basically to cool juices and so on in the summer and since the freezers take so little power once they are on temperature, I just keep them on. So it was really no amount of trouble."

I glanced at her as she reclined in the batch, feet up,

"So does it help at least? No threat of you jumping out of there and throttling me?"

"No, I wont throttle you. The cold is making my skin numb already and the itch is nearly gone."

A shiver ran over my skin. I would stay in a few moments longer, I decided, it was such an absolute wonderful feeling to not have even one itching spot on my body.

"Thank you very much, Chris. I am really grateful for your help. You are a very kind and hospitable man."

Slowly I pulled my feet back in the tub, and got to my knees. On my feet again I arranged my underwear neatly, to let it drip out and dry. I took the towel and was amazed at how big it was, I could wrap it completely around me and had some spare fabric to tug in. Still dripping water I got out off the tub. I ask Chris to excuse me because I didn't want to rub myself dry and risk to get the itch back again already.

A little while later I was back in my room. On my bed, and drifting off to sleep. Chris said something when he left me, but I didn't really hear his words. My mind was occupied. There was something I had to say to him.

"I'll do only some light chores tomorrow, I am sorry, but I need the rest." There it was and my mind at piece I fell asleep.

I noted Herta moving around, one time I was sure I heard Chris coaxing her out to get outside. The three pups yelped quite a bit until she was back. He brought food for her, I smelled it. He helped me drink, something awfully sweet and strange tasting. He got Herta outside again, once or twice I thought.

When I woke up I felt a lot better. I was adamant to not overdo it again. It was dark, but I walked to the bathroom. Some small lights on the ceiling were enough to see where I was going and by now I knew the way anyway. My skin felt a lot better, nearly no itching at all and all my wounds had healed completely, leaving only a very thin red scar on my leg. I almost felt good enough to put the coveralls back on, but I decided against it.

I drank some of the stuff in a bottle on my bedside table. I knew the taste, Chris had made me drink it earlier. The clock on the wall said it was 03.45. The numbers glowed with a soft, a bit greenish light. I couldn't believe I had thought the room pitch-dark before. Wait a minute, I told myself, that wasn't this room, that was a room in the sickbay. I drank some and cuddled with Herta and her three pups. They had grown. And by how much they had grown and by how well Herta was, I concluded more than just the rest of the day and a part of the night had passed. A whole day more had passed.

I drank some more and explored the room.

There was this door on the one wall, beside the build-in cupboard. I wondered if it would open to another room. It did, what a room it was! A soft light glowed up when I penned the door and I saw a bathroom. A small one. Not quite twice as big as the bed maybe. There was a toilet, a shower and a sink. A shelf above the sink and small cupboard beneath it. I sat down on the toilet.

Why hadn't Chris let me use this? Maybe the water supply here was cut off? Turning the faucet proved it worked. I would ask him. But first I would be very lazy and lie down again.

On the bedside table was a small stack of books. Three. Chris must have put them there. I played with the buttons on the wall just above the table and one produced a strange hissing sound. Another one too, but of a different intensity. The next one, closest to the bed made a small light glow up, about a meter above the headboard. Just right to read by, and so I picked the books up.

"Summer nights in the hills" was the title and "A romantic tale about a brave woman and the man she loves" was written on the back. The picture on the front was cheesy. A woman cooking over an open fire in the most impractical clothes to do so ever. All lace and frills and petticoats. And all of it spotlessly clean.

I put it down.

"Stranger in a strange land", by Robert A. Heinlein. "Valentine Michael Smith is a human being raised on Mars, newly returned to earth." That sounded good, I didn't read the rest of the back flap and opened the book.

I must have dosed off with the book in my hand because I suddenly heard Chris moving around in some far part of the bunker. I got up and dressed in the coveralls.

We had breakfast, I helped, after that I took Herta out, chris opened the big door for me, and later I did some light chores, like sewing the feathers on my vest, repair my leggings, groom Herta, fill the pheasant with stuff I found in the fridge, and after dinner I slept again for many hours. The next day was much of the same, except that I didn't sew feathers on my vest but on Chris' jack. I hadn't asked him, but I thought he might like it.

In between I wandered around in the bunker, helped Chris with some minor chores, swept a floor, a corridor, went out for a little walk in the sun with Herta, cleaned the table, the kitchen and we made a frame I later spanned the deer skin on. We didn't talk much. I had questions to ask, but I had time to do it later. After all I would spend quite a few days here with him.

It seemed that the worst was over, the plant had done its part and even though Eydis looked a bit worse for wear, she didn't seem to have any lingering problems from the illness and wound. Of course the scar was not going to be as bad as she had at first accused, but I left it at that.

The days flowed away with regularity, apart from the normal greetings and so on, she was very silent. I attributed that to her maybe missing her family and wanting to get back, but so far I didn't really think it would be wise for her to make the trek back to her people and she seemed to agree with me as she stayed around.

Finally I had finished the kennel for Herta and her pups and also the small hut (more a room since it was indoors) for her. There was no need to keep the dogs in the main living area unless she wanted them to move around with her and she could also be with them. At times I found myself sitting and looking at her, she was a curious person and practically a curiosity in herself. Of course I knew that to her I must seem just as strange at times, but that was the difference between us. Me raised with strict rules and regulations and she...well not. She was raised on different rules, all of them focused on survival.

I was sitting at a table with a jug of cold water and a glass, feet propped up on a chair and just taking it easy before lunch time, the aroma drifting around proving that the food wasn't far from being done.

This morning we had the last slices of the bread Chris had baked. Even if it was very solid I had been munching it in-between meals. I had been nibbling and munching on a lot of things in-between meals the last two days, I needed the calories. Yesterday, when I had stuffed the pheasant I had put as much in my mouth as inside the bird.

The mix of bread, onions, plums and apple tasted nice. So nice I decided to start a sour dough for more bread. Now a fruit bread and a loaf of normal bread was in one oven, and the bird was in the other one. It smelled tasty in the kitchen while I stirred in the polenta and kept en eye on the carrots. I had no idea how long it would take since cooking in this kitchen was so different from the diverse ways of cooking I was used too: earth oven, open fire, bread oven (we also made pizza in it) and under glass and mirrors.

This morning I sat cross legged in front of the oven to study all the dials and numbers, figuring them out.

Chris was in the commons, drinking water while I put everything on a big tray: the bird and the rest in a big platter and the plates and cutlery, a cutting board with the two lots of bread balancing on the plates. Proud with myself I carried it to the table we used to eat and sit. The apple twigs had started to bud and looked lovely.

Silently I handed Chris a big knife to carve up the pheasant.

"Enjoy your meal", I smiled. "If you have time after lunch, I have some questions. I won't fire them at you all at once, I promise!"

A bit nervous I tugged at my coveralls, sat down and set the table.

I looked at the food as she spread it out and despite myself, felt my mouth starting to water.

"Wow, you really outdid yourself, this looks fabulous and very tasty."

I used the knife to carve up the pheasant, releasing the aroma into the air. This was much better food than I was used to and I guess that she knew it. After dishing up a solid plate of food and saying Grace, I cut myself slices from both breads and smeared butter on them.

Picking up the cutlery, I started eating, wondering what was eating at Eydis if she had several questions to ask. Well time would tell after all. I guess some of it would have to do with her people.

I had made sure my tugging had opened a button, and that setting the table required some leaning over.

Then I sat upright and watched him carve the bird when I thanked him for the compliment.

We ate in silence. It was not an awkward silence we were simply both enjoying the food, Chris maybe a bit more than I did. I had used ingredients I wasn't used too, had to guess how they would work, but since the smell had been great I had been quite sure it all would taste good as well. And now I nodded a few times as my tastebuds confirmed it.

Finally Chris put his plate aside. He had helped himself to another full serving once and then had picked and licked the bones on his plate. He looked longingly at the breads.

"I'll bake some more, and show you how I made them," I told him. "I'll also make some cakes."

I leaned forward to clean the table. I just stacked everything on the tray.

"Would you want to come outside with me? I'll start cleaning the deerskin, I have found a nice spot just outside the door, a bit up on the roof. There is a ledge there, perfect to sit and work in the sunshine. We could talk then. Maybe I should tell you some of the questions I have, so you can think about them … One is, I found a bathroom connected to my room, why is it there when we use the big bathrooms? Another one, do you have contact with other people, other groups, would you want to have contact, to barter or to have company and help once in a while? I know my people would be pleased to help you harvest the wheat for a day or three for as much grain as the could carry and board. We wouldn't all come, but maybe two or three. And I would make sure at least one of them is a great cook, if I couldn't come myself."

I looked around a moment, then looked him in the eyes.

"There is also something else. We are a small group, my father's group is a small group, Parker's is a small group. We did not have any new members for a while, except the babies. Which means, our gene-pool is small. A little over hundred people all counted. Only twenty-one women between fifteen and thirty-five. We don't encourage women above thirty-five to get pregnant anymore. Most men my age are or related to me, or infertile or just absolutely not to my taste even if I should have contributed to the growth of the family a few years back already. My elder sister has two husbands and three children. Would you maybe be interested? In fathering, with me, or one of the others? We would take very good care of the child or children, bring it or them over for a visit once in while if you would like. Or you could visit us, but that might be impractical, because you would have to leave the bunker unattended for a week or more."

Quickly I got to my feet, grabbed the tray and went to kitchen. Just as quickly I put the leftovers in boxes and in the fridge. Carrying the frame with the hide and a scraper I went outside, only glancing at Chris at the table.

"Bring Herta if you come outside, she needs a little walk and she'll love the scrapings."

"Cake? Wow I can't remember when last I have had cake. I can remember before the fever some people baked cake. But that was years ago. Sure I would love it."

OK so we got down to brass tacks, I did notice the bending over and there was two buttons undone, giving quite a tantalizing view...which was curious since it was not like I haven't seen the view without clothing. But still...quite tantalizing. Then she gave her questions, which was easy to answer, I didn't need any time to answer them, but she surged on and I guessed that there was more.

There was.

And if I had anything in my mouth I would have choked and as it was, I almost did splutter. I don't know if the shock showed, because she made off with the dishes and passed me again on her way outside. I blinked and then looked at Herta, who just slowly wagged her tail at me. Probably looking forward to her walk outside...wait...how did I get to the kennel?

I opened the gate and after a quick nuzzle at my fingers, she went off sniffing, her pups asleep in a corner. I followed in the wake of the dog and on my way, snagged my sunglasses and strapped on a pistol. When I stepped outside, I slipped on the shades and looked around, the trail she left was quite easy to spot and I followed, finding her at work on the skin. I watched her for a few moments and then approached, hunkering down close to her.

"Well there is quite easy answers to some of your questions. The room you have now is for patients. It is better to have the comfort of your own bathroom when you are ill or under quarantine.

I don't have any contact with any outside group, so far I know, all my contact gear is still operational and if anybody wished to be contact, the recording that is being broadcasted should help them to find my channels.

As for outside help. Well I can allow that since most of the food goes to waste since I am alone and not able to do as much work as say three or four people. So their help in exchange for a part of the harvest and a place to stay? Fair deal in my eyes. That is if they can be trusted to not give away my position to anybody."

I looked out over the grassland, quite aware that I have not answered her last question, also not quite sure how to answer it either.

I thought it a good sign Chris kneeled down on one knee close to me. I thought it a bad sign he kneeled down on one knee, ready to jump up.

It had taken him quite a while to get here though. Bad sign too. Or not? I was as insure about it as when I had asked him. Oh well. What did my mom always say? "If you don't ask, the answer is always no. If you ask, it could be no." But maybe I should have waited a day or two. Only that would have meant my 'window' would be nearly closed.

He had watched me work for a little while, good sign, or bad sign? I sighed, scraped a bit faster.

Then he started to talk.

And he didn't send me away.

Great. So I decided to listen and stop thinking about asking, being embarrassed, not asking, letting slip my fertile days by unused.

I nodded a few times, thus telling him I was listening and understood. Herta curled up between my feet after licking the little bits of fat and tissue, which had came off the skin until now, out off the grass. Which made it necessary for me to move my foot a bit. It ended up close to Chris' foot.

My hands kept busy, one with scraping, one with stretching the skin.

After listening him out, I carefully removed a piece of fat and fed it to Herta, who licked my fingers.

"I haven't yet told where exactly my family lives, I only told you it was on the other side of the crater wall hills. I did tell you Parker's was the farm beside the ranger's base and visitor's information center. So them you could find if you have a old map. You know my family lives about forty miles away from Parker's, I told you we could reach them in time to help fight off the attackers. So with a bit of persistence you could find us. But it would take you time." I glanced at him, then turned my head towards him.

"It is a bit risky to be friendly to strangers. It is even more risky to take them in, or to explain where your home is. But we do it, trusting we are able to defend ourselves if we need to. And since trust is rewarded with trust most times, we fare quite well. There are some people who travel from group to group, to barter or to work and stay over winter, but most people feel safer in a family or a group of their own. But they still need help occasionally, just as we do. Now we, my father's group -he calls it "Vikings" by the way- and Parker's are closer, more at ease with each other as many other groups. It is the result of Frank's, my mom's and Irene's politics. And their way of living, and Frank's persistence on enlarging the gene pool. Sex is a good 'glue'. Having a child with someone is an even better glue between people, and between groups."

Had I said too much? Again?

"Almost like marriages in the olden times, when factions and allies married their children to each other. Curious way of doing things, but as you explain, it seems to be working."

But she also said that their gene pools were starting to become too close knit. That could lead to genetic defects and mutations. But why me and why now all of a sudden? Perhaps I should ask her and get clarity on that part. I took a deep breath and turned to look at her. For a moment or two I wondered how she would look without the braids, hair combed out and loose...I realized that I was staring even if she couldn't see my eyes behind the sunglasses.

"Then I also need to ask. Why me? Why now? And what if you never met me?"

I nodded, and scraped a bit more. A quarter of the skin was almost done.

"Yes, it works, we are related, we help each other, we visit."

I felt his eyes on me, even if I couldn't see them behind those hideous dark glasses. Maybe he spends so much time inside, his eyes can't adapt to the sunlight.

Oh dear. Now he had a multiple part question. The last part of it was the easiest. I looked at him and grinned.

"I still would be ill? Or dragging myself home by now?"

Serious now I continued.

"If I never had met you, I would keep my eyes open. Why now? I am here, I am healthy again and," I bit my lip. "I am fertile for the next few days." It was said. Now quickly the rest.

"Why you? You are strong, friendly, social, survived a few wounds and the fever, you are persistent and inventive and resourceful, you live a complete different life than I do, could teach a child many things I couldn't teach it just sometimes tell I heard about it, you are a good hunter, all things I wish for a child to have a bigger change of inheriting and I like you."

She liked me. Of course she listed abilities about me that I didn't even know I possessed and that alone made me think about it. Then another thing she said came to my attention and I removed my sunglasses to look at her.

"You are fertile for the next few days? You make it sound like there is a cycle..."

I paused then, recalling a few gripes that the elder men had with their partners, things they talked of when they thought I didn't hear them.

"Never mind, I think I asked that without thinking."

I looked at her hands as she worked the skin, then ran a hand over my jaw. I needed to shave. What she asked of me, was to do something I had never done. Had heard and read about it, so I had the basic idea down of how it worked, but beyond that...

"I will have to think about it."

I gave her a slight smile, "For me it will be a giant step, also as you said, we live completely different lives, I will have to think about the impact it might have."

Or might not have. In this new world, there was no telling what the various influences in my life could have wrought on my own vertility. But that aside, how do you admit that you didn't even have the faintest clue of where to start? I knew that it was supposed to start with things called flirting and seduction, but beyond that I had no clue.

Again I found that I was staring and raised my eyes from her hands back to her own eyes.

He was looking at my hands!

But he had taken his dark glasses off.

A moment I had to bite my lips to not laugh out loud.

"You are fertile for the next few days? You make it sound like there is a cycle…"

He certainly had lived alone too long! Suddenly I asked myself if he had had sex … I wasn't too sure anymore if I wanted to anymore, I had not much desire to be a teacher in this aspect. Discovering the likes and dislikes of a new lover, and have him discover mine was sizzling fun though. He surely knew what had to be put where to get the desired effect?

Getting a bit dreamily I had closed my eyes and now opened them again, before I would drift away too far.

He had to think about it. I could understand that, a child was a responsibility, an enormous one. I nodded. It was a giant step. The fact I felt ready for it (also the fact I knew my mom and a few others would be pleased to help out, even would take full responsibility out off my hands if I wished so (or if it was needed) so that I could 'reduce' my role in the child's life to that of a loving aunt), didn't mean he was ready for it.

"I understand," I said softly, feeling his eyes move.

"Like I said before, I would take very good care of the child, if there would be one, and so would my family. My father would be delighted to be a granddad and I know he would alternately spoil and teach and nourish it."

I grinned, caught Chris' eyes.

"But that is what we all do, it is the best way to raise a child, only we do it the other way round, we nourish, teach and spoil. Children who know they are loved, know they will be spoiled or rewarded whenever it is possible or deserved, are happy and thus easy to teach and don't need to be punished often. I was desperate as a child when someone said they were disappointed in me, that I had made a mistake, I did my very best to not make the same mistake again or to amend my wrongdoing."

I sighed. And smiled at Chris. And felt a blush coloring my cheeks.

"And trying to make a child is great fun …"

I looked up at her, blinking.

"It can be?"

I shrugged, "Well I will just have to take your word on that."

I felt a slight blush starting in my neck, "I know the basics from reading and I have seen animals...but... Yeah ok."

I cleared my throat and looked away, feeling like the world's biggest idiot. Of course I knew nothing of it, it was not in my area of interest. Hunting, weapons, tactics, electronics, mechanics, those were the sort of interests I had. I knew it made me appear simple-minded to some, but it was my role, I was not meant to be alone.

That must be why I struggled so much to keep the bunker going! The thought only popping into my head then.

All this talk of family and children made me realize just how lonely I really was and how much her company had meant to me.

"I got the basics from watching animals too," I decided to say, skipping to remark on the rest Chris said. He seemed uncomfortable, but not all his unease seemed due to the subject, if I read his body language correctly. So a bit of light chatter was needed, chatter he didn't need to respond to, which hopefully would put him at ease.

"Most kids do, I think, at least in our family. Toddlers soon know where the new pups or chicks, or the new baby, or the lambs, or the calfs come from, they have seen the tummies swell, and the rams on top of the ewes, and the cock on top of the hens." I told him a little story about the then good three years old twins, how they got very angry when we had to explain over and over their two dogs couldn't have pups with each other because they were both bitches. I also told him about my house, which had started as a little hut when I was six, and had grown into a cosy two room blockhouse with the original hut serving as storage.

"Kitchen, living room, bedroom and a kind of bathroom." I finished to watch as Herta got to her feet, walked away a bit to renew a few marks she had made, came back to slobber up the new scrapings.

It was time to start on the other side of the hide. In the light tone I used before I told Chris why I scraped the hairs off, that we had to soak the hide in a watered down oil and soap solution a few times, and that after that we had to stretch and work the hide until it was dry. Herta was getting restless.

"You'll help with that? The soaking and wringing and soaking and wringing and then the working to get a pliable soft skin which we'll smoke tomorrow? Would you mix the solution in a big bucket and get Herta back in so she can suckle her pups? Which of the three do you want?"