I brushed my hands on my pants and pushed open the door. John was not where I’d expected him to be. He squatted a few paces away from my nest, moving rocks over to build a firepit. I watched him work for a second, wondering why he hadn’t continued the chase straight into my front door.
“What are you doing?” I finally asked, breaking the silence when he didn’t acknowledge me.
“Making sure we have everything you’ll need.” He finished arranging the rocks but stayed down, surveying the area. “I’ll have to mark the border, but I’ll need to hunt further out for food anyway. There isn’t much game on this ridge.”
“I don’t need you to hunt for me.” Why? Why was he doing this?
Because he’s our mate.
John looked at me over his shoulder. “Okay. Then I’ll hunt for me and you can have the leftovers
