Sadrahan turned little thought to the words of Midas the Younger as the days slipped by in the way they always had. The harvest came and went, and he measured the passing of time not by the seasons or the sun’s march across the sky, but by the stages of his wife’s pregnancy.

Their child grew little by little, and her appetite grew with it. “I don’t know if it’s a boy or girl, but whatever they are… they’re going to be strong.” Lamash said to him at the dinner table as the child kicked about within. “And I don’t think they like garlic.” She chuckled a little and set down her bread.

Sadrahan laughed with her, but he could see in his wife’s ruby eyes that she had her mind elsewhere. “What troubles you?” He asked at last.

“None of the human villages will trade with us anymore, they won’t buy our goods, not even our cloth. Midas the Younger refused to buy it on his way south, didn’t he?” Lamash asked.

“Aye he did, they don’t talk with us anymore, they won’t send their sons or daughters here for our festivals like they used to… but whatever has upset the humans, it’ll pass. We’ve been neighbors for centuries.” Sadrahan reassured her and dipped his bread into the stew, he took a hearty bite of garlic infused bread and savored the explosion of flavor, tilting his head back and growling in delight as it slid down his throat.

“I just think we should start taking precautions, maybe we should build a wall, and start training how to fight, didn’t you say that Midas offered to bring an adventurer with him next time if we requested it?” Lamash prompted, and Sadrahan looked down into his stew.

“Aye, he did, it’d cost a lot. And I did talk to the elder about building a wall, but he seems to think it would just provoke the humans into thinking the worst about us. Good walls don’t make good neighbors, or so he said. I’ll try to talk to the others again if you’re worried, but most don’t really want the extra work involved in building a wall, let alone guarding it.” Sadrahan pointed out, “He said you’re thirty-five months along, so it’s only natural for you to be a little irrational, and that you shouldn’t worry about it.”

Lamash’s naturally red face went redder, her sharp teeth bared, “I hope you smacked him for that one.”

“I didn’t smack him, dear. But he’s right about one thing at least, it’s down to your last month, our child will be here soon and that is the time when mothers-to-be are most cautious.” He pointed out.

Her glare told him he’d overstepped, and Sadrahan took steps to ameliorate her rebuke before it began, he held out a clawed hand with the palm out in front of himself and facing her. “If they won’t listen, I’ll at least build a wall for our home, it won’t be big enough for everyone, but enough for a handful of our neighbors and ourselves.”

It settled his wife down considerably, “It’s better than nothing. But those old goats should listen to me, a little hard work today can prevent a lot of pain tomorrow.” She said and Sadrahan nodded in silence. “Speaking of tomorrow, that’s when you’ll talk with them? Tomorrow morning?” She pushed the issue harder and he nodded along.

“Fine dear, fine, and I’ll be as persuasive as I can, if they don’t listen, I’ll start cutting trees for our own wall before I even swing a mattock into the field.” He promised, and fully appeased, Lamash reached out across the table with her hand upturned, he placed his palm over hers, their clawed finger tips closed tight enough into one another’s red flesh that a few little drops of blood emerged and mingled together in the cup of Lamash’s palm.

“I chose the right husband.” She said, and enjoyed the way he preened a little and straightened up his back.

“I thought I was the one who suggested-” He started to reply, only for her to interject.

“Yes, but only after your father said to ask or you’d lose me, who do you think told him that the chief’s son was inquiring about my availability?” She teased out the long held back revelation.

Sadrahan gasped, “You were, you were considering that idiot?”

“Not even for a moment.” Lamash replied with a shiver, “I had no interest in having children with a grownup child. But it did give you the motivation you needed.” She tapped her concealed forefinger against his palm, “maybe keep that story in mind in case you’re ever tempted to underestimate me like our idiot chief.”

“I will, but if we’re not about to argue?” He winked at her.

“Yes. Definitely yes.” She said, neither was sure which stood up from the table before the other, when she lay curled with her back against him afterward and the sheets, heated with the rush of their previously entwined forms, lay in a tangled mess beside their bed, her worries had not completely vanished.

“I know you think I worry too much, Sadrahan, but these are our lives on the line.” Lamash paused before continuing, “We don’t have ones to replace them if they're lost, and no traveling tinker or merchant can piece them back together. I’d rather see you sweat for a few hours than mourn for another three hundred years.”

She didn’t look over her shoulder, she just stared at the hanging bear fur that served as the keeper of their privacy. “In my nightmares, I see the wild stories that traveling merchants tell. Our village turned to ruins and ash, our ancestor’s graves, trampled, their sacred trees cut down and used to build the homes of the ones who slew us all… I just want us to live and be safe. Is that so much?”

“No. It shouldn’t be.” Sadrahan answered and put a little love bite on her skin where her neck and shoulder joined. “I promise, I’ll talk to the others tomorrow, don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.”

“Good. I know I can always count on you. We both can.” Lamash whispered and taking his hand, she placed it over her belly, snuggled closer, and just like that, they fell into a deep, contented sleep.