Louisa's POV
After we went back to the cottage, Darren set up a fire immediately and started to prepare for cooking.
I took out my potion and tried to attend to the wound on Mr. Salamander's tongue, but his sister stopped me.
"You don't need to worry about him. He'll grow it back by himself. A crocodile used to bite my tail off, but I grow it back. Now it's as good as new," She said and displayed her tail to me, "You can touch it."
I touched it politely. It was slimy and smooth.
I looked up worriedly at Mr. Salamander.
"Don't worry. It will only take a few days before he can talk back at me," Ms. Salamander said.
Mr. Salamander rolled his eyes and submerged himself in the stream.
He looked pretty happy to be surrounded by water.
Ms. Salamander got into the stream as well, piling up on top of his brother.
It seemed that Mr. Salamander didn't mind being used by his sister like a rock.
Vincent looked very guilty. He walked next to the stream and bowed at Mr. Salamander, "I'm so sorry, big guy. Thank you for saving my son. Thank you for looking after him. I don't know how to thank you enough."
"I still don't want to accept your apology," Ms. Salamander swam away in the stream, catching shrimps.
Mr. Salamander walked out of the stream and poked Vincent with his giant head.
Vincent touched held him in his arms and cried.
"My old man's getting very sentimental. I haven't seen him crying this much in my life," Will said as I attended to Mr. Weasel's wounds on his legs.
He was very curious about Mr. Weasel.
"Can I hold him?" he asked.
"No! I'm not a pet!" Mr. Weasel argued.
"I have to cook. Let Will hold you for a while. He can feed you some worms. You like worms, don't you? Darren picked up some on our way home."
"Me like frogs!" Mr. Weasel looked very excited.
I handed him to Will.
He gently patted Mr. Weasel and looked very satisfied.
He reminded me of Leo.
I missed that boy so much. I didn't know what he was doing.
He must be living happily in Fire and Wind Camp. Maybe he had already forgotten me.
"Lisa, what do you want me to do with the spartina plants? " Darren asked.
"Let's boil them and distill the water. So we get the salt. Leave it to me. You can prepare the mixed berry compote. Have you seen Finn?"
"Master went out hunting again," Daren replied, washing the fruits in the stream.
"Could you please ask him to come back? It's too dark outside," I said.
Darren nodded.
Vincent walked towards me and said, "Young lady, please let me help you with something."
"You're our guest. I can't..." I said.
"I insist," he said.
"OK. But you need to cut off your nails and tie up your hair." I frowned slightly and said.
Vincent smiled at me and said, "Yes, Chef. I'll see to it right away."
Vincent turned out to be a really good cook.
After tying up her long dark hair, I eventually saw his face.
His appearance looked like he was in his early forties. His skin was almost translucent. His eyes were as dark as the ancient night sky. His clear-defined jawline made him authoritative and dignified.
He did everything gracefully and I could tell that he was in his element in the kitchen.
"Did you use to cook in the past?" I was curious and asked him.
"Yeah, all the time. I enjoyed cooking when I was still alive." He replied, smashing boiled potatoes into paste.
"But you were a count. I thought aristocrats never cook by themselves." I said.
"My wife used to enjoy cooking when she was still alive. Cooking was a way for us to express affection and caring for each other. Rich or poor, we cook for each other." As he was saying, he put a berry into his mouth.
"Can you still eat food?" I asked, stirring the compote in the pot.
Vincent said, "We can. But we can't taste anything. It's such a pity that we couldn't taste anything else other than the taste of blood. I missed the sourness and sweetness of berries. I used to make some cherry clafoutis for her. It was her favorite."
"Do you miss her?"
Vincent chopped up the onions and said, "The truth is, I can't remember her face anymore. It was hundreds of years ago."
He wiped off the tears from his face. I wasn't sure if it was because of the onions.
"I'm sorry..." I sighed silently.
Vincent smiled at me and said, "It's OK, Lisa. I'd thought I would never forget her face. But I guess eventually time wipes out everything. Be it love, hatred, or even the face of the most important person in your life. They're all gone eventually. I still remember the feeling of being in love with her, though. It's more cherishable than the memory of basking under the sun. Have you met your mate, young lady?"
I nodded and said, "He was a formidable man. I ran away from him."
"Is that even possible?" Vincent asked.
"What do you mean?" I frowned.
"Is that even possible to run away from your mate? I mean, when I was in love with my wife, we were inseparable. I couldn't even bear the thought of being apart from her. We were just hUman beings and I could still feel the intense connection between us. People say the bond of werewolves is eternal and ten times more passionate than that of hUmans. So, that's why I wonder if it's possible for you to run away from your mate. The pain of separation would be excruciating."
I was so shocked that I forgot to stir the compote.
Vincent took away the stick from my hands and kept stirring before it was overcooked.
I remembered the day I met Alpha Lucas for the first time in the tent.
He left me for less than four hours and I had a compelling need to be touched by him.
The only reason that I was away from him for all these days and didn't feel a thing is that...
"Vincent... Do you mean that my mate is... here?"