I'm here.

He'd said it to himself enough times that it didn't even feel like words anymore. More like something he could feel settling somewhere deep inside him, even if he couldn't quite explain why.

I’m still here.

Nobody had come to drag him out of the ger or to Alukhai's outskirts. He opened his eyes, and Maral's ger was still around him, and the steppe was still out there, and that was good. That was really, reeeeally good. He just had to make sure it stayed that way. It wasn't hard to figure out how. Actually, it was kind of simple once he'd thought about it long enough. And he'd had a lot of time to think lately.

What had he been in front of everyone that night? Kneeling there, sniveling, not understanding a word, stinking of fear so bad the whole circle must've smelled it. It was pathetic, Yelp at his worst. And everyone saw it.

That’s okay. It was fine.

If he did stupid crybaby stuff, he was a stupid crybaby. He was Uyla. If he worked, he'd be a worker. If he did good, he'd be good. There wasn't anything complicated about it. Honestly,if he knew sooner would've saved everyone a lot of trouble. But he was stupid before. He wouldn't be stupid now.

The thought of Maral came up uninvited, and his stomach did that same drop it always did each time. He'd never seen her look at him like that before. He'd seen her laugh so hard she cried. Seen her sad in a way that sat underneath everything. But not angry. Not at him. And Ochir, quiet beside her with that “no it can’t be.” look was almost as bad.

Yelp had tried very hard not to picture their faces from that night again but kept failing...

So don’t disappoint them again. Don't make her angry. Ever. Never ever never.

Easy. Don't get in trouble. Don't talk back. Don't touch anything you don't understand. Don't ever let anybody look at you like you're something they have to deal with. Nobody got mad at you if you did things right. That just made sense. Batu wasn't mad at the wolves who did their jobs. Nobody threw Maral into the dirt for watching the horses. Batu and no one else would be mad at him either, if he just did good. Worked hard. Kept his mouth shut when it needed shutting. Nobody would ever be mad at him again.

Hmm. It was a cold morning. Must be why his legs were doing that.

He'd been awake a while now. Not just tonight. Last night too...Maybe the one before? He'd lie there in the dark listening to Maral and Ochir breathe, and his body just wouldn't rest. Every time his eyes closed, something in him sat bolt upright and asked what he was doing lying around when there was stuff to be done.

Was that normal? Not sleeping for... how many days now? Probably not normal…But he didn't feel bad. That was the thing. He felt great! Better than great. Sharp. Awake. Alive! Like his bloodstream had been ignited. If something was actually wrong with him, he'd feel sick or slow or something, wouldn't he? He didn't. So it was fine. Maybe this was just what it felt like to finally be doing something.

's ger sat dark and quiet a few tail-lengths behind him. He'd been told he was to serve the princesses now. All three of them, as a slave. As Bogol. And one of them was bound to need something in the morning, and he wasn't going to be standing around yawning when they did. He wasn't going to wait to be told. Waiting to be told was what the old Yelp did.

He'd hauled a soaked pelt over, the whole wet, sloppy weight of it slung across his back, cold water soaking straight through his fur until he was damp to the skin. Now it lay draped over a big boulder beside the ger, dark and heavy and smelling strongly of horse. He'd found a rock with a good sharp edge. He'd watched the others work hides before, so he figured attempting what he had observed would help him learn here.

Scrape the fur, clean it up. How hard could it be?

He set the stone in his jaws, braced his paws, and dragged it down. It skidded sideways, nearly flinging from his jaws and pinging an ache in his teeth. He adjusted and tried again, more pressure this time. The edge caught, and then his grip slipped. The stone rolled awkwardly against his teeth and dug straight down into the hide. He felt it give. Heard the little wet sound of it splitting.

...Fuck

He spat the rock into his paw and stared at the spot.

A hole.

Fine. That was fine. That was fine! He just needed to not do that again. Angle it better. Less pushing? More pushing but slower? Or was it the angle here? His technique was garbage, sure, but that just meant there was a lot of room to get better. Nobody got good at this in one try. Batu had said something like that once, hadn't he? About the horse. Trying and failing and trying still.

He picked the stone back up, adjusted it in his mouth until it sat a little steadier against his teeth, found a patch of hide well away from the damaged spot, and leaned in again.