He watched her as she stood, not surprised that she was awake now. Not even considering the possibility that anything could have slept through that. Matiir only knew that every hair on his body was erect and every muscle trembled. Had he not been chained to the tree, he would have been long gone instead of hiding in its branches. As it was the only option he had (fighting back having been utterly forgotten), he’d treed himself and was now, perhaps understandably, feeling cornered. But when Samaire did not run, roll over or add to the threat, he could only stare, unblinking, as she approached the danger.

If she’d come within reach and he’d known of her intentions, he might have tried to stop her. Chased her away from what, to him, could only mean bad consequences. But she didn’t, and he hadn’t, and so, he was left to tremble in his tree as she pushed back her own fear and investigated. 

There was nothing to find that they both did not already know. Here wasn’t safe. Away was a good idea. 

She took her time returning, though he could see her the whole time, and likely took only three breaths, he was impatient with the risk she took. He could feel, despite the hairs standing all down his arms and on his neck, that the sensation was lingering only. It had ceased building. It was finished its hunt, whatever it was, now the deer was dead. [i]She[/i] was prodding a hungry beast on its kill, for all he could see nothing else there. And even as she came rushing back, Matiir found himself balancing precariously on the branch, grip tight, but muscles bunching to defend himself from an attack that never came. 

And he only continued to stare as she began to pack up the camp. Having nothing of his own, the delay would prove no hindrance, but it did take him a short moment to process that the human had decided first to walk towards the danger before wanting to leave it. Had she not felt the danger there? 

He finally began to move when it became clear she wasn’t playing tricks, leaning off the branch and down the trunk towards the ground. Without fear adding wings to his heels and adrenaline staving off the aches and pains he’d acquired that evening, he was far more hesitant about coming down than he’d been about going up. In the end, the trouble solved itself when he overbalanced and tumbled headlong to the ground with a yowled complaint that was quickly cut off by a sudden lack of air in his lungs. 

He picked himself up roughly, dishevelled head shaking vigourously as though to say he was perfectly fine and had meant to do that and he’d appreciate it if the bee buzzing in his ear left it. For the moment, there was little fight left in him. He was hungry, tired, cold and hurting and all he wanted to do was leave as quickly as his stiff limbs would allow. If that meant not fighting with the human now, he would very nearly be happy to cooperate. And in the most human gesture he’d acted out since he’d been caught and chained, Matiir sank onto his butt, mud-caked knees brushing his chin, feet flat on the ground, and let his arms dangle over them for all the world like any other wild young man who’s tired himself out and feels like taking a break. He might well have been about to pick up a few sticks and begin doodling in the mud. 

He didn’t though. He held out his hands towards Samaire and shook his wrists instead, knowing enough about humans to realise the gesture had meaning and might win him what he wanted. The loose jangling of the shackles and his scarlet eyes, watching for her reaction, were each a good reminder that it was all no more than imitation as he chirped at her, trying to offer no threat. He wanted free of the chain enough to let her close. The dead deer was a strong enough incentive to leave him willing to prove that he was not worth her worries. Of course, once freed, there was no guarantee he’d feel the same way, but there was no reason to let her think otherwise.