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"Some of the men are about to give us songs. Have you eaten?"Mak mumbled that he had, and was saved from having to say any more by a burst of music from strangelyshaped instruments. The chords fell oddly on his ears, more used to the atonal chants of the village women than to the melodies of the Tall Ones. The words were in a strange language, but the stirring rhythms made his heart pound and his breath quicken.A young woman and an older man passed mugs around, filling them from a stout wooden keg. Mak found that his held a dark and heady brew, as different as could be from the sour and musty bark beer that he was used to. It only took a couple of swallows to convince him that this was something he wanted to experience again and again. As the singing broke into a rousing chorus, a slender flamehaired girl leaped into the circle of light. Dropping her cloak from her shoulders she whirled and stamped, clapping her hands to the beat of the music. Clad only in a few scraps of bright. Nevertheless, his daughter needed him. He mustered up all his courage and gently knocked on her door.“Stacey? Honey? Can I come in?” Behind the door, he heard no response, only loud weeping. He did not want to catch her unawares again, so he knocked louder. “I’m coming in, sweetheart.” He turned the doorknob, and slowly opened the door. She was lying face-down on her bed, curled up in a fetal position, crying into her pillow, wrapped in his dress shirt. From the foot of her bed, he could see the bottom of her naked ass, and his penis lurched a bit. Mike silently cursed it, and walked over to the side of the bed, sitting down on the edge behind her back. “Sweetie, please don’t cry.” He gently patted her back. “I… I heard you moaning, and… and I thought you were hurt, or else I would never have walked in on you.” She was still sobbing, albeit more silently now. She knew he was lying, but for her benefit, so she let him get away with it.“Sweetheart, what you were doing was not wrong..
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