"I don't want the thing. Put it back in your belt and go show it to the simple-minded!"
"All right," said Yorgh, with dignity. "Here—you may keep it, until you believe me."
He tossed the metal object to the ground at her feet.
"One hundred—remember!" he warned. "Or I'll tell every young hunter in the tribe that you are a cheat!"
He loved the way her eyes flashed at that, but did not let the sight bemuse him when the billet of wood came whipping across the fire at his head. He reached up one big hand and plucked it out of the air, to Puko's admiring grunt.
"Well, if that's the way you feel ..." said Yorgh. "I'll go see just how angry Ahnee is with me. I believe you made that up, out of jealousy!"
He tossed the wood airily into the fire and walked away as Vaneen clenched her fists in wordless rage.
Which, in a woman, means she's really mad, he reflected.
He turned sharply into the shadows of the nearest tent, lest another length of wood come spinning past his ear to ruin the dignified impression he had left behind him. Then he made for the two-wheeled carts shared by the unmarried men, located his own tent bundle among the baggage, and made himself comfortable for the night.