For Friendly Anon’s prompt.
Fae Apoc has a landing page here.
Tros had a feeling she wasn’t the sort of girl you brought roses and wine for, and besides, there wasn’t any place around here to buy wine, or roses.
So he settled for helping Nila with everything he could, scouting ahead, scrounging for food, making sure when he brought down game, he gutted it out of her daughter’s line of sight.
It was puppy love, he knew. His Mentor had, more than once, accused him of that, scolding him for the attention it took from more serious matters.
But his Mentor was not here, and, it seemed to Tros, Nila was pretty much the most serious matter there was right now. She’d promised to heal him and keep him fed in return for his service; therefore, his service was the most important thing in his life for the ten days he’d pledged her.
Comfortably justified in his obsession, he spent his evening watch carving tokens from deer antler: a bunny for Susan, a small saber for Allan, and, for Nila…
That took more thought, and more time. Not wine and roses, certainly. He was unsure if, despite her two children, the girl had ever been romanced. She didn’t seem to look at him as a man, other than in that “another warrior to guard the camp” sort of way. If it hadn’t been for the kids, he would have guessed lesbian, or, like his former crewmate, just-not-interested.
The kids meant he might have a chance. So her carved her a flower, following the patterns of her ears and her markings, a Nila-flower from the remains of his kill.
Looking at it in the dim moonlight, he had to smile. That, that seemed like the perfect gift for this fucked-up new world of theirs.
Note: The views expressed by the narrator are his and his alone and are not necessarily endorsed by the writer
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