Bronk had been right. She knew she had been. And yet, she felt terrible about their fight.
Prink had been her girlfriend for – oh, for at least half a century now. They’d stopped counting long ago.
She pictured Prink’s hair, a beautiful metallic-grey mane that fell heavily over her strong, proud brow. Her eyes, cold steel, fierce enough to freeze humans with one look, but tender whenever she looked at Bronk.
Well, usually.
Bronk dipped her feet into the cool water of her river. It had been a long walk home from Prink’s bridge. Which, by the way, was not as imposing and solid as Bronk’s bridge, so Prink really should be visiting her more often, not the other way round.
She watched some ducks building their nests on the shore, close enough to the water that one deluge could destroy them. And yet, they kept trying. They succeeded, too, more often than not. Whereas she and Prink had never dared to –
“I’m sorry,” a voice said behind her. Bronk turned to see Prink.
“I love you, Bronk. And you’re right. Your bridge is bigger than mine. And sturdier.”
“Yours isn’t so bad,” Bronk sniffed.
“Hmph. It gets more humans,” Prink said. “But I don’t need that anymore.”
She held out a necklace, an oval of thick rope completely filled with hip bones. Bronk’s eyes went wide. Prink was proposing!
“Is that why…?”
“Why I’ve not been visiting. I was nearly finished. So… Will you?”
With shaking hands, Bronk took the necklace and dropped it over her head. “Yes.”
No comments:
Post a Comment