Transcendence by Shay Savage

gently brush my nose on her cheek. I don’t want to push my luck, though, since I did not do what she wanted, and I know she is still not happy with me, so I drop my hand and step back.
    Beh sits by the edge of the water while I pick up the fur-covered fish, unwrap them, and attach them with sinew, tied to the leather straps that hold my water skins. I quickly rinse out my fur wrap in the lake. The weather is not too cold, and I don’t want to wear the fur again now that it is wet, so I tie it at my hip instead. With fish hanging on one hip and my fur on the other, I check the sky to see how late it is and go to Beh.
    She is sitting on a rock with a small stick in her hand, slowly pulling snarls out of her hair. She’s looking out over the lake, and I’m not even sure she realizes I am ready to leave now. I start toward her with the intent of leading her back to the cave, but the motion of her fingers, the stick, and her hair captivate me.
    I have never seen anyone use a stick in such a way, and I instantly touch my own thick and matted hair. I recall women in my tribe using their fingers to sometimes pull out knots, but never a stick.
    Beh lifts her hand to the top of her head, and she inserts the stick between two strands. She pulls down slowly, pausing a few times as the little branch gets stuck. I stare at her, mesmerized by the movement of her arms, fingers, and the flowing strands of her hair. She repeats the act over and over again, and the rhythm is strangely soothing.
    Strange—like everything about her.
    My mate.
    My Beh.
    She turns her head turns toward me, and I see a smile on her lips as they open, and more sounds come out. I take the last few steps that will bring me to her side and crouch down next to her, watching her movements closely. By the time her hair has dried, it is smooth and tangle free again. I reach up and touch the ends slowly and then brush my fingers through them, watching her face to make sure she doesn’t mind me touching her.
    “ Ehd?” Beh tilts her head toward one shoulder and makes more sounds. She reaches out and touches the side of my head. She gestures with her fingers and then puts her hand on my arm, pulling me toward her and turning me slightly.
    Then she places the stick between strands of my hair and moves it down.
    “ Ah!”
    I jump up and grab at my head.
    That hurt!
    Beh covers her mouth with her hand, but I can see humor in her eyes. I glare at her, and she bites down on her lip as she drops her hand. She motions me back toward her, but I take a step away. More noises come from her mouth, and I still don’t like them.
    Beh sighs and then she takes the end of her hair and holds it out. I watch as she runs her hand down it, and I can almost feel my own fingers start to strain toward the strands, wanting to touch them myself. She holds her hair out again and beckons me.
    I hesitate only a moment.
    She keeps motioning, and I slowly move back to her side. Once I’m close enough, I reach out and touch her hair, reveling in it. I let her move me back down to a sitting position where I can reach her hair and she can reach mine. She goes slowly, and now that I am a little more prepared for the feeling, it doesn’t really hurt that much—just a tugging sensation and the occasional, sharper pull.
    When that happens, I yelp again, and Beh uses her hand to rub the spot. The action makes it feel better, but I also like that my mate is touching me. The whole time she is running the stick through my tangles, she lets me stroke her hair.
    After Beh uses the stick to untangle my hair, she takes me back to the water’s edge and coaxes me to tilt my head toward the cold water. She rinses my hair and then she combs through it again. Once she is done, she sets the stick down on the rock, looks me over, and smiles. I can’t help but smile back at her—just the look on her face warms me more than the sun.
    When she is done with my hair, she looks all around my face for a few moments.