“My male breeder is excited for his Brother. They say it is rare to breed a female of T’vailk mountain heritage."

I'd never seen a female on this planet look so startled. The woman's head raised and she looked right in my face and then down at my big belly.

“That is not possible,“ she said firmly.

The boys took her opinion in stride.

“Our cousin Kennedy and her Sisters say it is," Tyle responded. "They say the growing life is too fast to be a Paterian that isn't T'vailk. They are very smart girls. Many that have heard their argument believe it."

The woman looked between us a moment before she settle back down. I got the distinct impression she wasn't going to argue, but she did not believe us one bit.

"You call the women here cousin," she said instead.

“Yes," Tyle answered, binding the injured stump with deft and practiced moves, “this camp is important to us. We would do anything for our campmates. We provide whatever they need, whether they are men or women."

The woman snorted and muttered something. It sounded like she said ‘what can you provide a woman?'

Tyle and his Brothers grinned. Their attention switched seamlessly off the injured wing, which was now bound, to the rest of the woman's body. Aryn slid his hands along the woman's undamaged wing as his Brother touched her back. I recognized what they were doing probably constituted a massage.

The woman flinched as Aryn‘s hands slid across the contours of her right wing. Her head whipped around and she watched him with narrowed eyes. The young family just ignored her reaction and continued to stroke systematically.

The wings were sensitive in places, I'd learned that from Listening to my campmates. Men in the compounds would not know that and only focused on the spears, where the sensation was burned out. In the camps it was not uncommon for a man to find the places a woman liked her wings touched. Men talked and I'd overheard their conversations about it. Tyle and his family were well versed in this particular physical attribute.

The soft parts of the wings that caught the wind and helped the women soar were very delicate. They could detect minute changes in resistance. It made the wings an extra sensory organ. Women liked to have those parts stroked Lightly from the center outward. Even when the wings were folded, Light pressure to those areas could be pleasing. It Was supposed to be extremely calming.

“You are tense, cousin," Tyle smiled, “Let us relax you."

I flushed hot remembering how my family used that phrase. The boys meant literally relax, though. They stroked her undamaged wing and rubbed her back. I watched her surprise fade as the gentle stimuli drove the tension from her muscles. Despite her resolve to be irritated by this, the stress of the last several days was too much. She fell asleep as Tyle's family caressed her.

The young men finished and moved away. I realized I'd just been staring at the interaction. I wondered if what we did would be enough to convert the opinions of any of the unbeaded women here. It would be awful if they started to take men back once they were healed.

“You look troubled, Ciara," Aryn said quietly approaching me.

I was surprised when his hand came out and stroked my belly the way my family would have. The touch was gentle, just like Kein would have done. Aryn was family, though, and touch was important in the family. I smiled as the baby moved against his hand.

“Is everything alright?" he asked.

“The women," I whispered to him, “I'm worried they will try to take you all back to the compounds."

Aryn smiled and patted my shoulder.

“These women were sent to us by The Great Harmonious Spirit," he said.