I have noticed that Jhalhemha is spending a little more time each day out of the pouches. She is still very small, but her fur is growing, and she looks like a miniature version of her mother. When she drinks from the pouch teat she does so only briefly, preferring our chest teats instead. One thing that I do have to admire, though, is that she does not spend her time going in and out of the pouches. Once she is inside she stays inside, and she usually does this in the evening when she is ready to go to sleep. When she is outside during the day she prefers to stay outside, slipping into the pouches only when she wants to take a nap.

At this moment Jhalhemha is out of the pouch, having emerged about half an hour ago. She is watching me as I work on my journal. We are alone in our quarters; Rhalhea has taken the older cubs to the swimming pool on Deck 7. She wanted me to come as well, but I said I wanted to do another journal entry. There is nothing to write about, she said.

Maybe not. This voyage has been pretty uneventful so far, which I don’t mind in the least. I don’t know if I want anything exciting to happen; if it does, it usually means bad news for the Tereskàdians. Ten years ago it was the murder of twenty-six cubs and their whistling dragons, and when we journeyed from Alharhan to Tereskàdhar Tharhedhal told us that Alharhan and Tereskàdhar would be destroyed in the year 5700.

Jhalhemha has located my left teat and is now nursing. Her eyes are closed, but I know she is not sleeping, because she is sucking pretty good, and her breathing indicates that she is still very much awake. I get up, carry her over to the door. I stand in front of it, not sure if I want to go out into the corridor. I’m spending too much time in here, I tell Kykherhenha. I don’t want to go to the Meeting Place because I have no desire to run into Fhelhomha Leskel. It is obvious that her infatuation with Jhar Morněl has not waned, even though many years have passed since his death. I am afraid she will blame me for his death, and that does not bode well for me or my family.

Kykherhenha suggests that we should join Rhalhea and the cubs on Deck 7. What I really want to do, she says, is spread my wings. This ship is so big there must be a place where a whistling dragon can fly. I told her I would talk with Captain Lhuâdel.

Deck 7 seems to be an area for the athletic minded. There are about five swimming pools here, as well as areas for exercising, running, wrestling, and many other athletic endeavors. When I check Swimming Pool 5 I find Rhalhea and the cubs at the side of the pool. Their fur is wet and scraggly, indicating that they have just emerged from the pool. Rhalhea waves me over and Jhalhemha, who has finally released her grip on my teat, and I join her and the cubs.

I notice that S’horžăm is floating on his back in the middle of the huge pool. I also notice that there are no Alharhanians here. This pool is strictly for Tereskàdians, Rhalhea says. Whenever we went to one of the pools Alharhanians said we couldn’t swim there, so Captain Lhuâdel decided that this pool was just for us. If we can’t go to any of the other pools then the Alharhanians can’t use this pool.

I gave Jhalhemha to my mate and dove into the pool. I swam the length of the pool and back again, the last half underwater. Kykherhenha watched me from the edge of the pool; she said she didn’t want to get her fur wet because she was still thinking of finding a place where she could fly.

When I emerged from the pool a little later I felt much more refreshed. Swimming had made me hungry so I suggested to Rhalhea and the cubs that we should get something to eat. When we entered the dining room the first thing I noticed was Fhelhomha Leskel sitting at a table close to the door, eating something green and stringy that didn’t look at all appetizing. But then, it could be because I am a carnivore, and she would probably have the same thoughts about raw meat.

I ushered Rhalhea and the cubs back out very quickly because I did not want to speak to Senha Leskel. I hoped that we could avoid her until we left the ship, but I was afraid that might be next to impossible.

Pešhŏk. 34.489/Day 566