“It might be kinder to kill him,” I point out. “The sa-khui do not eat much predator meat but they will not turn their noses up at it. We can kill him and be back at the main camp before dark.”
But Vivi is shaking her head emphatically. “Just because he’s got a flaw doesn’t mean that he should die. If he’s fighting this hard to live, I want him to live. He shouldn’t be killed just because someone else has decided that he’s not worth the trouble.”
Now I understand why this means so much to her. “You mean like us?”
“Exactly like us. Someone discarded us because we weren’t what they wanted, whatever that was.” She shakes her head, and I love the fierce, determined expression on her face. “But we’re living, breathing creatures that deserve a chance. This cat does, too. And if there’s a hope that we can help him out, I want to do it. If there’s not…then we’ll put him down peacefully. But I want to try. I have to try.”
And because Vivi wants it, I will make it happen. “Say no more.”
“Oh my god,” Vivi breathes. “Look at how thin he is.”
Her face is full of sympathy as we get the first look at the creature we’ve been tracking all day. It has been a journey to find him, but Vivi reasoned that if he was injured, he would not be able to go far. Once we found his trail again, we followed him until we saw a small, rocky cave. Vivi felt confident this was his hiding spot, so we tossed our dead hopper onto the snow and retreated. We’ve been waiting for him to come out, and all the while it grows colder and the suns continue their journey toward the horizon. It will be another night in a hunter cave, I suspect. We will not go back to the village this evening. My khui hums in my chest and I am foolishly pleased at the idea. I like spending time alone with Vivi.
At least, I am in a good mood until I see the creature.
Vivi says he is thin—but that does not matter. He is as tall as she is through the shoulder, his head heavy and full of fangs. His hipbones jut out even as his tail lashes back and forth, and he stalks forward, sniffing out the scents we’ve left behind.
“Poor thing,” she breathes, and I stare at my mate as if she is crazed.
That “poor thing” could destroy her with one swipe of its paw. I know a formidable opponent when I see one, and it does not matter that this snow-cat is injured or thin. He would make short work of her. “I am having second thoughts, Vivi.”
“I’m not. Look at his leg. The front one.”
We’ve placed the dead animal stuffed with leaves in the midst of a snowy clearing so we can chase off anything else that approaches our kill. We settled the drugged meat on the snow-cat’s trail in the hopes it would be the first thing to come after our lure. It has, and as it lopes forward, its gait is all wrong. There’s a strange bend to its front leg in a place there should not be a bend, and it’s clear the snow-cat is avoiding putting his weight upon it.
Vivi doesn’t take her eyes off the creature. She reaches out and grabs my hand, holding me tight with excitement. I have misgivings about the sheer size of the cat and the fact that it’s wounded. It will fight harder, knowing it cannot run.
“What if the leaves don’t work on it?” I whisper to Vivi. “What then?”
“We ski away and hope he doesn’t catch us,” she whispers back. “Watch, he’s taking the bait.”
I look over at the injured snow-cat again. He’s nosing the dead animal and looks around again almost as if he suspects the trap. I could swear his gaze lands on us for a brief moment, and I hold my breath.
But then the snow-cat grabs the dead animal in his mouth and swallows it in two bites.
Vivi makes a strangled sound of excitement, shaking my arm.
“I see it.”
“I don’t know how long it’ll take for it to work,” she hisses at me, her gaze locked on the cat. “We’ll follow him when he leaves and watch for signs of him slowing down.”
This seems like yet another terrible idea. What if he returns to his cave? I am not letting Vivi go down inside it to check if the animal is drugged. Absolutely not. I do not care how fierce my human mate is, I will be that much fiercer if she even suggests such a thing.
The cat lowers his head again, sniffing the trail, and takes another shuffling step forward. His mouth opens and he tastes the air, his head swinging towards us again. A low growl starts in his throat and I grab my spear.
Then, the cat sways and topples over in the snow.
“Shit, that was fast,” Vivi exclaims, racing out from our hiding spot behind a fall of nearby rocks. “Did we give him too much?”
“Wait.” I grab her by the waist before she can charge forward. “Wait and make sure he stays asleep before we get close. It might be a trap.”
“It’s not a trap.” But she waits at my side and we watch the creature for movements. When it remains unmoving in the snow, she looks over at me again.
I nod. “All right. Let’s check it out.”
Vivi skis over to the snow-cat’s side with gliding movements. I stumble after her, less skilled on the skis, and then give up and jerk them off my feet, racing to her.
She prods the creature with the end of her ski, testing him. There’s no reaction, and she looks over at me. “I think he’s out. Either out or dead.”
“Not dead. He’s breathing.”
Vivi nods, discarding her skis and kneeling next to it. “So thin. He’s starving. He probably can’t hunt because of that bad leg.” She runs a hand over his side, eyeing the animal. “I don’t see any other injuries. Let’s get him tied up so if he wakes up sooner than anticipated, he won’t attack us.”
I pull out the rope and get to work.
A short time later, the enormous snow-cat is tied up. I’ve wrapped rope loosely around the huge muzzle to slow him if he tries to bite. His two back legs are lashed together, and then the third is lashed to the back ones. The only leg that is free is the broken one, and Vivi runs her fingers over it, frowning. “It’s healed badly. The bones don’t move if I push on his leg. It’s an old break, I think. Remember how quick my pinky healed? It would have frozen in place all wrong if we hadn’t set it and splinted it. That must be what happened to him.”
“What do you want to do?” I await her order—if she wishes to kill him out of mercy, I will do it for her. She only needs to say the word.
Vivi considers for a moment, burying her fingers in the soft fur of the creature. Then she looks at her ski pole and nods to herself. “We’ll break one of the poles and use it to splint the leg.” Her gaze flicks to me. “And we’re going to have to re-break it so it can heal properly.”
“We?” I arch an eyebrow.
“My big strong mate is going to help me, yes. You’re a gladiator. You’ve broken bones before, right?” She gives me an encouraging smile.
I swallow hard. There is a difference between snapping a limb in the heat of battle and this. For some reason, the idea of re-breaking the limb is making me queasy, but Vivi is giving me such an expectant look that I cannot fail her. I wipe my sweaty palms on my fur cloak and inwardly brace myself. “Show me what you would like done.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
VIVI
It’s a long, awful afternoon.
In my head, I’d foolishly thought that we’d find the cat, pop the leg and send him off again, right as rain. The reality is a lot more intense. Re-breaking the bone is hard, tricky work, because we have to make sure we’re doing it just right, and that we’re doing it clean. We discuss how to approach it, and Skarr handles the worst part.