The golden light of the late afternoon sun sliced through the cracks in the hut's walls, painting dusty stripes on the floor. The work was done: meat salted and drying, road provisions packed, the carriage waiting like a patient beast outside.
The hide door flew open without a knock, and a short, breathtakingly curvy figure barged in, a sack slung over her shoulder.
"Hello!" Mira announced, not waiting for a greeting. She dropped her sack of belongings, which landed with a soft thud of books and bundled herbs, and plopped herself directly onto Eis's bed, making herself at home.
The room, already fragrant with the rich, satisfying scent of roasting meat from their preparations, now held her unique scent of wildflowers and earth.
Kaela, who had been speaking in low tones with her aunt, fell silent as soon as Eis and Elara entered from the backyard. The quiet felt heavy.
"What's up, guys?" Eis asked, leaning against the doorframe. "What were you talking about?"
"Oh, just… stuff," Mira said breezily, her sharp eyes missing nothing. "The city. We don't know what to expect, do we?"
Her tone was light, but it was a deflection. Kaela, beside her, kept her head down, tracing a pattern on the hide blanket with her finger.
Eis walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. Immediately, Mira shifted and claimed her spot on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck with a proprietary air.
"Hey!" Lysara protested, hands on her hips. "That's my son, and that is where I sit. Get off."
"He is my only nephew, and I am where I belong," Mira retorted, nuzzling into Eis's neck, showing no intention of moving.
"You have a lot of nerve!"
"Come on, guys," Eis interjected, his voice a rumble of amusement and command. He placed a firm hand on his mother's waist.
"Mom, you can sit on the left." He guided her to settle on his other thigh, balancing the two women.
Mira, utterly unthreatened, tilted Eis's face towards her and planted a deep, possessive kiss on his lips, a clear declaration of supremacy.
Through it all, Eis watched his sister. Kaela didn't move. She didn't pout, didn't try to squeeze in, didn't protest. She just sat there, a silent island in the suddenly crowded room, her head bowed.
I have to think of a way to resolve this, Eis thought, the earlier chill returning. What did I do? She should be here, fighting for her spot… His focus turned inward, his mind working.
Even the pleasant pressure of his mother and aunt on his lap, the soft curves pressing against him, faded into the background as his consciousness dove deep into the puzzle of Kaela's silence.
The hut was dark, the embers in the hearth breathing their last red sighs. In the large bed, three beautiful women slept around him.
Lysara was curled against his chest, one arm draped over him. Mira was tucked against his side, her head on his shoulder. Kaela lay on her side, facing away, a small, stiff space between them.
Gwawk… gwawk…
The sound was wet, rhythmic, and sloppy. A familiar, exquisite heat enveloped him, pulling him from the depths of sleep. Gwawk… gwawk… Mmmm… A soft, cute, muffled moan vibrated through him.
Eis's eyes fluttered open in the pre-dawn gloom. Looking down the length of his body, he saw Mira.
She had swallowed him whole, her lips stretched around his girth. She was better than last time, far better.
Her head bobbed with a practised, eager rhythm, and her tongue was a wicked artist, swirling and pressing against the most sensitive parts of his shaft with professional precision.
After several minutes of this insane, waking pleasure, a coil tightened deep in his belly. With his free hand, the other was resting on the soft curve of his sleeping mother's backside, he reached down and tangled his fingers in Mira's dark hair, not to guide, but to hold on.
"Uuughn…" A low groan escaped him as he pulsed his release into the warm, willing cavern of her mouth.
She didn't pull away. Instead, she focused her mouth on the head, swallowing diligently.
Gulp… gulp… gulp… The sounds were obscenely loud in the quiet hut. Finally, she took the last mouthful, her hand coming up to cover her lips as she looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with affection and satisfaction in the dim light.
"Good morning," she whispered, her voice husky. "How was your sleep?"
"Morning," he breathed, his body thrumming. "I slept great. And you?"
"It was great. I woke up and saw your… manhood was up. So I just decided to use my mouth. Like last time."
"Auntie, you know you don't have to. It happens every morning."
"No," she said, leaning up to kiss his stomach. "I like it."
"Oooh… what is that noise so early in the morning?" Lysara mumbled, stirring. She stretched, then leaned up and planted a soft, sleepy kiss on her son's lips. "Good morning, my heart."
"Morning, beautiful."
The talking roused Kaela. Her eyes opened, meeting his immediately. There was no sleepiness in them, just a guarded wakefulness.
"Morning, little baby," Eis said, deliberately using the old, teasing nickname, watching for a reaction.
She offered that same, brittle, fake smile. "Morning."
He felt a pang of genuine frustration. He'd expected a swat, a glare, a huff, anything but this polite distance. He sat up, the women shifting around him, and slapped a simple tunic over his head.
Dawn had not yet broken when they stepped outside. The world was a study in blues and greys, the village silent.
Wordlessly, they loaded the carriage: the dried meat, Mira's sack of books and herbs, the bedrolls and sheets.
His mother, his aunt, and his sister settled onto the bench and the flatbed, wrapped in cloaks against the chill.
Eis took his place at the front, the reins of the demon horse held loosely in his hands. He took one last look at the humble hut, the sleeping village.
Then, with a soft click of his tongue and a gentle tug, he set the carriage in motion. The wheels, with their rope buffers, rolled almost silently over the hard earth.
They left the village and its people behind, the carriage carrying them into the grey pre-dawn, towards an unknown city and the unresolved tension that hummed louder than any words between them.