The Sickened Luna's Last Chance novel · Chapter 22 of 24

Chapter 22: Fence Posts

By the fifth week, the Creek had stopped staring at him.

That was the real test of a pack, Hester said.

First they glare, then they gossip, and then they hand the man a hammer.

I found him on the north fence at six on a frozen morning.

He was up to his knees in snow, wrestling a cedar post into a hole he had dug himself.

His hands were raw, and his hat was crooked.

He looked happier than I'd ever seen him.

"You're up early," I said.

"I couldn't sleep. The roof leaks right over my pillow."

"I told you."

"You did. It's growing on me."

He leaned on the post.

"The elder says the north line was last mended in 1998."

"The one with two fingers?"

"She told me to call her Aunt."

"She hates being called that."

"She told me to call her that."

"Then she likes you."

He grinned, and looked down at his hands, and the grin turned shy.

I had a thermos in my coat.

It held a dented cup of warm water and a tablespoon of my blood, which I'd stopped thinking of as strange.

It was the eleventh time.

I held it out.

"Drink."

He drank it standing in the snow and gave the cup back.

"The veins are almost gone," I said, studying his neck.

"Hester says it's your cup."

"Hester says a lot of things."

"She said something else yesterday."

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