The camp consisted of simple, hand-sewn tents arranged closely together, presumably for protection, Min surmised. Nearby, there was a basic pen where several rabzoa, a breed of wild goat that lived in the Witch Wood, were kept for milk. She could hear the laughter of children playing nearby, but her attention was immediately drawn to the smell of smoke and cooked meat when her stomach rumbled.
Ilay laughed, causing Min to blush once again. "Don't worry about it—I know that look well. My son Sait used to have eyes bigger than his stomach when he was growing up." Ilay led the way through the camp, their footsteps crunching on the fallen leaves, and her necklace gently clicking and rattling against her bare breasts. The camp wasn't particularly bustling at that time of day. Min noticed a group of women sitting together, engrossed in their work of mending torn fabric on a spare tent. They chatted while their bone needles moved in a rhythmic pattern. A couple of men passed by, engrossed in a deep conversation, paying no attention to Ilay and Min.
Above the nearest tent, Min noticed a trail of smoke rising into the dense branches overhead. As they approached, she saw three figures seated around a fire—a pair of men and a younger woman. The men, broad and sturdy like Sergen, had wide shoulders and large hands. They had patches of thick hair that almost resembled fur in some places. The older man, whose head and shoulders were covered in gray curls, had fingers as thick as sausages. The younger man and woman both had blond hair—the man was stirring something in a small metal pot with a carved wooden spoon, occasionally tasting his concoction. The woman sat cross-legged on the ground, her eyes closed, but there was a hint of distress on her face.
Min was certain that the men were related in some way—they shared the same posture, carried themselves in a similar manner, and had a similar robustness and masculine appearance. Even their chest hair extending to the curls between their legs mirrored each other. And if Ilay was a beauty, the younger woman was stunning, a reflection of Ilay's youthfulness and grace—they both had pale, round breasts and wide hips, with a matching strip of hair between their legs, although the younger woman had a natural honey-blond color.
Min was captivated by the sight of these men, emerging from her dreams after so many years. However, her fascination was nearly overshadowed by her discomfort at the young woman's striking features and breathtaking figure, which might rival or even surpass the beauty of Min's own mother.
"Ah, my dear." The older man reached out his hand, and Ilay took it in her free hand. They shared a long, affectionate kiss, and the man gently brushed Ilay's cheek with his other hand. "Welcome back."
"Erkin, my love." Ilay smiled and pulled Min closer, linking their arms together. "This is Min, Sergen's chosen—she will be our guest."
"Really?" Erkin let out a little huff, then smiled at Min. "Welcome then, my dear." He took a moment to sniff the air, as if contemplating something.
"Min," Ilay introduced, "this is Erkin, the chieftain of our tribe and my mate."
"Ah, thank you, sir, for having me," Min said, feeling a bit overwhelmed. It was one thing to have Sergen nearby, as he had shattered her fears and uncertainties about the opposite sex. But now, another man stood before her, just as her mother had described them: fleshy, long-limbed, brutish, and so different-looking compared to women.
The woman seated on the ground snickered, which slightly marred the beauty of her face. The younger man stirring the pot frowned at her and gestured for her to be quiet. To Min's surprise, she immediately complied, going silent and looking down, obedient and submissive.
If Ilay noticed the interaction, she didn't acknowledge it. "And these two are my children, although they are grown now: Selin, my beautiful daughter, and Sait, my strong son. Sait is our Speaker, responsible for memorizing and reciting our laws and stories." Ilay left Min standing next to her husband and greeted both children with a tender kiss on the cheek, though not as lingering as the one Erkin received.
"Thank you, Mother," Selin replied with a smile. Min noticed that while her mother wore a traditional kollik garment, Selin did not.
"Mother," Sait said, his smile softer but more genuine. He was slightly taller than Min, but still dwarfed by his gray-haired father.
"The poor girl must be starving," Ilay said, drawing back to Min and taking her hands, guiding her to sit on the ground between Ilay and Selin. Both mother and daughter sat cross-legged, so Min followed suit. Her own mother only required her to kneel during their lessons, so perhaps sitting cross-legged was customary here.
"Yes, Mother," Sait said and fetched a bowl and spoon from a nearby flat stump that served as a makeshift table. Erkin took a seat opposite his wife, crossing his legs as well—perhaps that was the significant part, sitting across from each other.
"So, Sergen found you out in the wilderness, did he?" the chief asked, resting his thick hands on his knees.
Min tried to avoid staring at the soft flesh between his legs, or the mass of bristling gray hairs nestled within. "Yes, he did," she replied, glancing around the camp, or at least the parts she could see. "How long have I been here?"
Ilay patted Min's leg, as if to offer reassurance. "Sergen arrived yesterday afternoon, carrying you and looking as though he had run the whole way without stopping. It took us the rest of the night and into the morning to tend to your injury until you were out of danger." The elder witch brushed her fingers lightly along Min's tattooed arm and shoulder.
Sait sat down next to his father, across from Min, and offered her the bowl and spoon with a smile. It emanated the scent of meat and spices, heat and thick sauces. After she took a cautious bite, Min found herself unable to stop eating.
"Perhaps I should check on Sergen to ensure he's resting comfortably," Selin said, her tone deliberate and sly.
"Selin, Sergen chose Min, so let's not discuss that any further," Ilay warned, her tone more of a caution than a scolding. "I could smell it as clearly as if he had flashed his manhood at me—and if I can sense it, so can you."
"So, he chose a human," Selin shrugged. She stretched her arms above her head, pushing her bare breasts forward with an exaggerated groan. "He can always change his mind."
"Can he?" Min asked, her spoon poised before her open mouth.
"Oh, yes," Selin leaned in closer, a long, content smile on her face. "Wolves are known to change mates when it suits them."
"That's enough, Selin," Sait's voice was firmer than his mother's.
"Well, the girl deserves to know how we wolf-men operate, doesn't she?" Selin let her hands fall, finished with her stretch, and ran them down her arms and over her ample breasts. She critically cupped them, looking down at her bosom with a pensive frown.
"Change mates," Min allowed the spoon to fall back into the bowl, her appetite suddenly diminished. "He..." She looked at Ilay. "You said he chose me. Does that mean he chose me as a mate?"
Ilay exchanged a glance with Selin, a look Min couldn't decipher, then reached out to touch Min's cheek. "As Selin said, that is the way of the Kelash—they select a mate of their own choosing: be it a wolf, a witch... or even human women, as there are some here among us. They stay if they wish."
The mere thought made Min's stomach flip. "And if they don't?"
"They leave us and go back wherever they please. That is often why a wolf may have more than one mate in their lifetime."
"And sometimes the choice is made for them," Erkin interjected, his elbow resting on his knee, chin in hand, a smirk playing on his lips.
Ilay coughed, tilting her head back. "Well, yes, perhaps on rare occasions, a woman might choose the wolf for herself... even a witch, for that matter." She coughed, toying with her necklace, as if feeling self-conscious about the topic. "But those instances are uncommon, I assure you."
"Yes, quite rare," Erkin chuckled with a toothy grin. The tension dissipated, and Selin stood up, walking away with a sigh and a shake of her head.
Sait immediately reached over and took Min's hand. "Please forgive my sister. She's still upset about Sergen rejecting her the last time—it's something she hasn't forgotten."
The older witch sighed. "My daughter can be bitter when it suits her."
"She acts out because she thinks it'll grab my attention," Sait confessed, sounding resigned rather than angry.
Ilay reached across, gently nudging her son's shoulder. "Some days, I wonder if any woman will capture your attention," she remarked. "I would like to have cubs from my own offspring someday. You could do much worse than a pretty girl like Selin."
"Mother..." Sait glanced at Min and then back at his mother. "Not in front of our guest, please. I've said many times that I'll know the woman I want when I see her, and not before."
"Alright, alright." Ilay raised her hands in surrender. Erkin seemed to find the exchange amusing, judging by the jiggling of his bare belly and the shaking of his shoulders.
"But I don't understand," Min said. "Sergen told me that you all were under attack—that you needed my help to stop... someone named San and the Bhalot."