They had once respected his inventiveness, and he still wanted to share his victories with them, but he couldn’t tell them about his successful hunt while Drilli was there. They would turn it into something to taunt him about. Besides, his tongue always tied itself in knots when she was near. No, he should find someone else.

Then he noticed that, from above, the cut of her vest revealed that fascinating small hollow between her breasts and he found himself circling one more time. His shadow passed over her and she looked up. He felt a dizzying thrill of pleasure as she smiled at him.

“Tryss! Come down and join us. Ziss and Trinn just told me the funniest joke.”

The two boys looked up and scowled, clearly wanting her attention all for themselves. Well, too bad, Tryss thought. I just brought down a yern. I want Drilli to see it. Swooping down, he folded his wings and landed lightly before them. Drilli’s eyebrows rose. At once his throat sealed up and he couldn’t speak. He stared at her, feeling his face begin to tingle the way it did whenever it turned red.

“Where have you been?” Ziss demanded. “Aunt Trill’s been looking for you.”

“You’d better go see what she wants,” Trinn warned. “You know what she’s like.”

Drilli laughed. “Oh, she didn’t seem all that worried. I don’t think you need to go right away, Tryss.” She smiled again. “So, where have you been all morning?”

Tryss swallowed hard and took a deep breath. He could manage one word, surely.

“Hunting,” he choked out.

“Hunting what?” Ziss scoffed.

“Yern.”

The two boys snorted with disbelief and amusement. Trinn turned to Drilli and leaned close as if to share a secret, but his voice was pitched loud enough for Tryss to hear.

“Tryss has got these strange ideas, you see. He thinks he can catch big animals by tying rocks to himself and dropping them on them.”

“Rocks?” she said, frowning. “But how—?”

“Spikes,” Tryss blurted out. “Spikes with florrim juice on the tips.” He felt his face heat up, but when he thought of the unconscious yern a cool rush of pride came over him. “And I have caught one.” He dug into his pocket and drew out the lock of yern hair.

The three Siyee regarded the hair with interest. Ziss looked up at Tryss with narrowed eyes. “You’re having us for a joke,” he accused. “You got this from a dead one.”

“No. It’s asleep from the florrim. I’ll show you.” Tryss glanced at Drilli, amazed and relieved that he was finally managing to form whole sentences around her. “Bring your knives and we’ll have a feast tonight. But if you wait too long a leramer will find it and we’ll get nothing.”