Rhee Coiled part 1
A Tales of Tuomi short story
We finally return to Tuomi, but unlike the other stories in the series, this one needs a warning label. I touch on a few potentially triggering things including attempted rape of a minor and child abuse/neglect/abandonment. It is also rather violent, more than Blood Rite, but hopefully you won’t feel it’s out of place. The title has multiple meanings beyond its playful punning which I will go into at the end of part 2 to prevent spoilers.
If you need to skip this story, I understand and hope you’ll come back for the next one. This will only be two parts so you won’t have too long to wait. Feel free to browse my story index until then.
For those reading, ‘#####’ will indicate a shift in POV between the two characters, but won’t rewind like my other multiple POV stories tend to do. I originally tried to write this from just one, but it felt incomplete.
Rhee shuffled along, scanning the shadows for movement. Her mangled left leg made it difficult, its dead weight dragging behind her with every step. She paused again, ears straining for the scrape of claws on the shadowy stones around her. Hearing nothing but her labored breathing and pounding heart, she continued to search through the littered remains. She was barely able to see this far from the safety of the light web, but she spied a can only half-emptied of what looked to be spinach.
She knew the can stated its contents in the standard bold text most residents of the caverns could understand, but Rhee was different. For her, the shapes never stayed still, their order one way then another, but somehow never the correct one. The adults had a fancy term for it she could never remember, but the other children were happy to repeatedly tell her what it meant. Slow. Stupid. Broken.
Her mother had been the only one to see her as anything else. To her, Rhee had been clever, observant, and lovely… inside and out. She caught her smudged reflection in a shard of mirror and winced. She was no longer lovely on the outside, her skin having blistered badly from the fire that claimed her mother’s life. Her left leg was another casualty of the fire, badly broken and lacerated from the large steel-studded timber that had fallen atop her mother who had tried to push Rhee to safety. Doctors had tried to repair it, but her foot and ankle had been too badly shattered.
With her home destroyed and her mother gone, Rhee had been relegated to the orphanage for a time. It hadn’t lasted, not when the other children did all they could to make her out to be violent and destructive. Now she spent her time foraging the outskirts of the colony alongside the rats, unwelcome amongst the more civilized inhabitants.
Rhee placed the can in her sack and continued her hunting, careful to avoid the sharp glass and metal scattered in the debris. Behind her, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses approached and she glanced about for a place to hide, but found it was too far away to reach in time. Hunkering down, she hoped the three approaching shapes would mistake her for a lump of refuse.
“Well lookie here boys,” one slurred loudly, “a giant scaly rat.” The others laughed cruelly and started to grab for her. Grabbing the shard of mirror she’d seen before, she slashed out at them, her thin arm arcing widely.
“Oh isn't she a feisty one,” another commented, “better watch yourself there Vic.” The one named Vic sneered and quickly grabbed her arm, squeezing hard enough she was forced to drop the shard. She struggled against the much larger boy, but he only seemed amused by her flailing.
“Let’s have ourselves some real fun,” Vic suggested, pinning Rhee down with her legs spread. The others seemed to agree as she heard zippers being opened. Squirming desperately, she managed to ram her knee between Vic’s legs as she simultaneously bit down hard on his hand. He screamed, letting her go to cradle his injuries. She wasted no time in scrambling away and charged recklessly down one of the dark tunnels.
The sound of their shouts followed her as she plunged deeper into the inky black of the tunnel. Her eyes had grown used to dealing with dimmer light, but soon she found herself unable to see in front of her. She made her way slowly, one hand on the smooth, damp stone wall. The floor became littered with something as she went, but she had no way to tell what crunched and snapped beneath her feet. She had a feeling she really didn’t want to know.
#####
Noise. The loud cacophony of the tailless ones echoed within his nest, disturbing his slumber. The sound grew louder and he shifted his coils in agitation. Three distinct voices, he noted, his fangs extending down in anticipation. They would regret disturbing him. He opened his eyes and began gliding carefully along the remains of his kills, his scales clinking softly against the bones. These would not be the first tailless ones to decorate his nest, nor likely the last.
He made his way down his nest, scenting the air in the dark as he went. A small shape clung to the wall at the base of his nest, but it made no sound and stayed still as he approached. Female, the taste in the air told him, but still very young. Her fear was faint and he realized it was not him she feared, but the three loud ones. Odd, he thought, perhaps foolish as well, but he knew tailless could not see as he did so perhaps she knew not the danger before her.
The loud ones were approaching, strange glowing objects in their clawless hands. How such creatures could cause the small one fear baffled him. They had no claws to rip apart flesh, no fangs full of venom, and no tails to strangle and crush their prey. Perhaps their size and number was enough, but not against him. He was a Sylthe male, the apex hunter in these tunnels, and no pathetic tailless ones would pose a threat to him.
The strange glow lit the tunnel ahead and he heard a soft gasp from the female behind him, but still no spike of fear. He moved, his powerful tail muscles making short work of the distance between him and his prey. They screamed at the sight of him, their fear drenching the air. His claws burrowed deep in the chest of the first, but he wasted no time checking his kill. The others ran, their glows bobbing chaotically. The second tripped in his flight and that was his downfall. Fangs plunged deep into neck muscles and his prey’s final scream gurgled thickly. The final one managed to exit the tunnels, his screams alerting more tailless. Satisfied the noise had been dealt with, he slipped back into the tunnels. He dragged his second kill along, but was surprised his first was actually still alive and cornering the female.
In the glow, he could see the pale skin of her face was an angry red and almost scale-like down her right side. He had seen such damage before, but not on any living creature. Her hair was the color of shadow and badly snarled. Her eyes were a pale brown, almost golden in the light. Her body was covered in scraps of cloth and her lanky limbs were covered in dirt. He noted the damage to her skin continued down, covering both limbs on her right side. She stood defiantly against the larger male, but he had her pinned against the wall. A swift motion from the male had a loud smack echoing in the tunnel.
Anger boiled in him. There had been no reason for the male to strike an already pinned female, especially one so much smaller and younger. He would take his time with this one, he decided. Whipping his tail out, he ensnared the tailless one in his coils. His prey squirmed helplessly as he slowly tightened his grip.
“You had no right,” he hissed at the male, his fangs aching to sink into his prey. He expected the female to run as he slowly strangled her attacker, but she simply stood there staring. Even when the male had breathed his last and he began to feed on his kills, she remained. Such an odd female, he mused, bewildered at the absence of fear from her.
#####
Run. She knew she should and yet her feet wouldn’t move. Something told her this ruthless killer would not harm her, though she questioned the sanity of it. So she stood and watched him slowly squeeze the life out of a man, then devour him. The other was also eaten and she found herself wondering where it all went. Her scaled savior’s upper torso was that of a surprisingly slender, almost lanky, human, though she knew his tail possessed incredibly strong muscles. His brown, green, and black scales were in a vaguely diamond-like pattern, reminding her of the snakes she’d seen once in a book. His hair was a reddish brown and tied back in a long braid. Shaggy bangs framed his face, softening the strong lines of his jaw and shadowing his pale green eyes. His ears were long and tapered, perfectly suited for picking up the slightest sounds in the tunnels. He had fangs, she’d noticed, and each finger ended in a long sharp claw. A predator in every sense.
Yet not once did he turn those fangs and claws on her. Instead, he simply focused on his meal, efficiently discarding the clothing and tearing apart the carcass as he wolfed it down with surprising speed. Rhee waited for him to turn on her as he finished the last of his meal, but he merely yawned and began heading up what she saw was a large mound of bones. She had stumbled upon his den it seemed. As she watched him slip over the lip of the mound and out of sight she debated on what she should do.
He had eaten two of her attackers, but one still remained. The one the others had called Vic was probably back at the colony spinning a tale that would likely get her punished severely if not outright killed. Foraging along the outskirts would no longer be safe for her. Rhee sighed, weighing her limited options. Perhaps this predator would allow her to stay awhile, until those of the colony forgot about whatever wild story they’d been told. Squaring her shoulders, she picked up one of the flashlights and turned towards the mound.
Rhee imagined climbing up into his nest of bones would not be appreciated even if her crippled foot would’ve allowed it. Instead, she set about creating her own bed at its base. The discarded clothing of her attackers made for sparse bedding, but she would make do. Digging through her bag, she retrieved her can and a salvaged fork. The meager meal was quickly finished and she curled up in her makeshift bed to try to sleep.
#####
A soft rumbling woke him from his slumber. It seemed to pulse in a steady, but inconsistent pattern. Shifting towards the edge of his nest, he peered sleepily down towards the noise. Odd. The female had not left as he’d thought, but had set up her own nest at the base of his. The rumbling was coming from her, but it didn’t match her breathing as he knew snores did. He scented the air, hoping for a clue when he heard it again, louder this time. The female shifted, seeming distressed by the noise her body was making.
Hunger, he realized. He had experienced such when he had been learning to hunt on his own. She did not seem equipped to successfully hunt in these tunnels yet she had made no move to leave. He wondered if she feared the male he’d spared so much that she would choose to stay with him over returning to her own kind. He would only learn by asking her, he knew, and she would likely be more willing to answer him if she were fed.
Hunting while full from a substantial meal was not a pleasant endeavor he soon discovered, but he successfully caught and killed a suitably sized scuttler. He had avoided using his fangs, worried his venom would make the meat inedible for the female. He returned to his nest and laid the skinned kill down beside the female. Nudging her gently with his tail, she eventually shifted and opened her eyes.
He watched her eyes widen at the sight of him, but they calmed quickly. Startled, yet unafraid. He indicated his kill and they widened again, her head tilting to the side in question. Words, he chided to himself. He did not use his voice often now that he lived the life of a fully grown Sylthe, but he needed to now.
“You are hungry,” he said gruffly, “please quiet your stomach.” He winced internally at his wording. It had sounded fine in his head, but likely would be seen as rude even with him using please. The female, however, did not seem to mind and simply nodded. She set about digging in a strange cloth she had slung across her body which he realized held quite a few items. A round metal rock was placed down on the stone and she stabbed the kill with a large stick and hung it on a spindly stand. A few pokes at the rock had it emitting strange blue lights and she set it beneath the kill. In moments, the scent of burning meat filled the air.
He backed away from the smell, but stayed near enough to still watch her closely. She turned the stick often and checked the meat as she did. When it pulled cleanly apart, she poked at the rock and the lights vanished. He watched as she ate daintily, pulling small chunks and popping them into her mouth. He noticed it remained in her mouth awhile as her jaw moved about before she finally swallowed the piece. Not a very efficient way to ingest one’s kill, but he wondered if perhaps that was due to how young she was. He remembered struggling to swallow many large kills when he was still a youngling.
“Thank you,” she said quietly once the kill had been picked clean. He was surprised at how pleasantly husky her voice was, so unlike the tailless females he’d encountered before. Those had been annoyingly high-pitched and he wondered if it had something to do with her scars. Fire had caused them, he knew, though he doubted a drake was the cause. He had made a point of eradicating all of those anywhere near his chosen nest site. Only scuttlers and tailless frequented his tunnels now, with the occasional burrower and dangler.
“You stayed,” he prompted, “why?” He was half-tempted to smack himself. Eloquence had never been his strongest skill, but he was certainly capable of better than this cringey attempt.
“Is that not ok?” she asked, her scent announcing her nervousness. “It is not safe to go back,” she continued hesitantly, “they will hurt me for what happened.”
“You did not make those kills,” he countered, confused, “the male that survived knows this.”
“Yet it will be seen as my fault,” she insisted, “they cannot take it out on you so they will take it out on me if they find me.” He sat back on his coils, dismayed. It made little sense to him, but he could tell what she said was true. Her scent told him she truly believed she would be harmed by her own kind for his actions.
“Then they will not find you,” he asserted, his anger sharpening his words, “or survive if they do.”
#####
Rhee could only stare at the creature before her. This predator had brutally butchered two men before her eyes with no hesitation or remorse. Yet he had also brought her food, thoughtfully skinned and gutted, and now had vowed to protect her from the colony’s wrath. Her head swam at the incredulity of her situation.
“Thank you,” she repeated, at a loss for how to properly communicate her gratitude. He seemed to not mind her brevity and showed no signs of expecting anything further. Indeed, he seemed more curious about her than anything else. “My name is Rhee.”
“Urzon,” he said, tipping his head slightly. “Are you a youngling, Rhee?” She pondered the odd question then realized he was basically asking her age.
“I’m not a child,” she insisted, “I’m fourteen years old.” She hoped he understood what a year was.
“Sylthe are younglings until they turn sixteen,” he informed her, “I am seventeen.” Pride practically drenched the last part of his statement and she had to hide a smile. They were both young, she realized, both teenagers. And in typical older teen fashion, he viewed her as a youngling, a child, though he was only a few years older. As irked by it as she was, she held her tongue. She decided his claws, fangs, and brutally crushing tail entitled him to his superiority complex.
“So now what?” Rhee asked him. She had no idea what kind of schedule her presence was interrupting. She imagined him tirelessly patrolling his domain, battling against others of his kind for the right to his nest and hunting grounds.
“Now?” he parroted back, “I need to digest the large meal you brought me.” Turning, he began to climb his nest, his tail muscles bunching and stretching as he went. She stared at his receding back. There would be no patrolling, she realized, he would simply sleep off his meal like a lazy bachelor.
She had to admit though it sounded like a good plan. It had been a long time since her stomach had been this full and she did feel rather lethargic. She was a bit concerned by the size of the rat he had brought her as it had been larger than the cats she’d often have as company in her foraging. She doubted she had anything to fear curled up at the base of Urzon’s nest though, judging by the massive pile of bones he’d amassed in just a year or two. She assumed it was roughly that long at least, if a youngling was up to age sixteen. Most humans in the colony were expected to be independent at eighteen, but it was common for those sixteen and up to share a place as a way to ease into that independence. It seemed Sylthe had no qualms with expecting independence younger, but she had a feeling the claws and fangs were rather helpful in surviving.
Rhee startled awake at the sound of bones clattering. She hadn’t even realized she had dozed off and her back was stiff from the position she’d ended up in. She peered up at the nest, expecting to see Urzon emerge, but instead she heard him slide down the other side. Grunts and groans drifted through the bones of the nest and Rhee worried he was ill. A sigh soon followed and she slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.
In the orphanage there had been only two bathrooms, one for the girls and one for the boys. They were situated beside each other so they shared a wall. Rhee had heard plenty of sounds from that shared wall that mirrored Urzon’s. She had no idea how his snake half functioned in that regard and honestly didn’t want to, but she imagined he now had more bones for his nest.
More shifting indicated he had returned to his perch and she imagined he would nap some more. She honestly hoped so because she did not wish to find out how well or badly he took embarrassment just yet.
#####
Urzon felt his face flush as he returned to his nest. He had never thought about the sounds he made when expelling the bones of his kills before. Now that he had a female youngling in his care he discovered it was incredibly embarrassing. It was a normal process for his kind and yet knowing she had heard it flustered him greatly. He had noticed she had eaten around the bones so had deduced her kind would probably not function the same, increasing his mortification.
He waited atop his nest, expecting her to either come investigate or call up to him. When neither occurred, he peered over the edge of his nest. She was busy taking everything out of her cloth and making note of what she had. It was not much from what he could see. There was the strange rock that made blue light that acted like fire, the sticks she had used to hang the meat over the rock, a few oddly shaped pieces of metal, and some flat colorful pieces of stiff cloth. Nothing to use in place of fangs and claws, he noted with a shake of his head.
She had seemed affronted at being called a youngling, yet that was what she was. He understood though, he had hated the term at her age, having felt perfectly capable of being independent like those that had reached full growth. He had learned the hard way a couple years later and had wished for the comforts of the youngling nest often his first year as a full grown Sylthe.
He suspected she did not have those comforts back amongst the tailless even though she was still a youngling. The way the male had struck her and her fear of further harm if she returned had him seething on her behalf. One simply did not treat younglings that way, especially a female. Granted, a female Sylthe was twice as deadly as a male, her added bulk making her quite capable of handling an impudent male with ease. Any male youngling that treated a female poorly ended up regretting it when she outweighed him years later. Yet a female did not act so viciously to a male even if he did treat her poorly. A youngling certainly would never have cause to fear returning to their nest and even a full grown was permitted to return on occasion.
He watched her sift through the males’ discarded items and was pleased to see her retrieve a small claw-like item from each of the piles. A strange multi-pronged item, a round clam-like object with a reflective interior, and a curved stick of metal all were added to her collection of items. She had collected most of the cloths for her nest, though it seemed insufficient to him. Bones did not bother his scaled tail, but his upper torso did not care much for them. He typically rested atop his scales, but she had no such option.
He decided she required better bedding for her nest and thought about how best to procure her some. He remembered an abandoned nest of tailless was not far from his usual hunting grounds. It had been crawling with danglers when he had first found it, but they would be easily scattered.
“You require more sufficient bedding,” he told her, “can you handle yourself against danglers?”
“Danglers?” she questioned back. “What is a dangler?” He sighed, but tried to be patient. It was likely her kind called them something else so he picked up one of her sticks and scratched a rough drawing of a dangler onto the rock.
“Tunnel spiders?!” He winced slightly at her husky squawk, “No, I most definitely cannot handle myself against danglers! One bite from a large one can kill me!”
Urzon deflated at the news. He had never had an issue with a dangler’s bite, but he was venomous himself and so likely immune. He would need to go alone and hope he retrieved useful items for her.
“Then I will go alone,” he informed her, “you will be safe here at my nest, especially if you climb on top.” He expected her to nod or simply start climbing, but instead she shook her head.
“I… I can’t climb up there,” she said hesitantly. “There was an accident six years ago, the one that gave me these,” he saw her indicate her scars, “my foot was crushed beyond repair. I’m… I’m a cripple.” He saw the pain that admission caused her flash across her face and he felt his anger bubble up inside him again. He approached her and she flinched back, the first evidence of fear he’d seen from her. He paused, taking a deep breath to calm his anger.
“I’m not mad at you, Rhee,” he assured her, “I will not harm you.” He tried approaching her again and there was no flinch. He scooped her up in his arms and climbed his nest, depositing her gently in the top depression. He made a second trip, his arms full of her meager bedding and supplies. “It’ll be safest up here,” he told her gently, “if you hear a noise, just douse your glowing stick and keep down. Don’t hesitate to kill anything that enters this nest. I won’t be gone long.” He watched her nod firmly, though her scent betrayed her nerves. He knew only tailless would be foolish enough to climb a Sylthe nest and hoped her dousing the glowing stick would be enough to keep them away.
Leaving her huddled in his nest, Urzon let his anger flare anew as he headed to the abandoned tailless nest. It coursed through his veins like the magma flows he’d seen in the northern tunnels. Three grown males, his thoughts churned violently, chased down a crippled female youngling. His mouth filled with the taste of bile at what they could have planned. Death, he decided, had been far too good a fate for them.
Urzon was deep in his rage by the time he arrived at the nest. As he expected, it was crawling with danglers, many large enough to probably be deadly to Rhee. He flexed his claws and felt his fangs extend down. He typically ignored danglers unless they encroached on his nest, but he needed to work off his fury. He descended on the danglers, ripping into them with lethal abandon. After the first dozen had met their end on his claws he heard their hissing chatter. Some heeded the alarm, daring to throw webbing at him, but he was not going to be stopped, not today.
He was efficient and thorough, slithering into every nook and cranny, butchering every dangler no matter how small, smashing every egg sac. As he beheld the carnage he sighed, rolling his shoulders. It had helped cool his rage though he still wanted to hunt down that third male. Rhee deserved that kill, he decided, if she wished it.
#####
Rhee huddled atop the nest and waited. She had been genuinely scared of Urzon when she saw his eyes glow with rage at her admission to being a cripple. He had reigned in his anger though, assuring her it wasn’t directed at her. No, she realized, it was anger for her instead. She didn’t understand how Sylthe were raised beyond the fact sixteen indicated adulthood, but she had a feeling they were far more supportive than her kind. She was uncertain whether it was the fact she was a ‘youngling’, a female, a cripple, or all three, but Urzon was obviously not happy with how she had been treated and he didn’t even know the full extent of it.
It warmed her, to have someone upset on her behalf, which she imagined was probably a strange thing to be comforted by. It was likely even stranger to feel safe and at home atop a mound of bones, more than a few of them human ones, than in a colony of her own kind, but here she was. Her stomach was content for the first time in years, she wasn’t frantically trying to hide from other humans or fighting with rats over scraps.
A barely audible snick, snick, snick drew her attention and she found herself perking up, recognizing the sound of Urzon’s scales sliding over stone. She popped her head over the rim of the nest and gasped. He was thoroughly coated in a dark yellow ichor. He had obviously used the danglers to burn off his rage and she wondered how many he had decimated. She saw him glance up and see her watching him.
“It is safe for you to come with me,” he informed her, “I can carry you there and you may select whatever bedding and supplies you find acceptable.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought of coming in contact with the yellow goo coating him.
“You aren’t coming anywhere near me covered in that,” she said firmly. He looked confused at first, then finally noticed the mess covering him. She smiled as he cringed, realizing his mistake.
“I will wash first, of course,” he stated and she let his attempt to save face succeed. She saw him slip into a dark corner and she tipped her flashlight to illuminate the area. A small pool glimmered in the light and she watched Urzon slip effortlessly into the water. He resurfaced, his fists full of sand that he used to scrub himself clean. Rhee watched, fascinated at the simple yet effective technique.
He seemed quite content in the pool and she found herself perplexed. She had learned snakes were usually cold-blooded creatures so it seemed strange for one to enjoy a cold pool. Rhee must have had a puzzled expression on her face when he looked up at her because he tilted his head in question.
“Aren’t you cold?” She asked him, causing him to grin in response, puzzling her further.
“This is a hot spring,” he explained, “there are active magma flows not too far from here so such springs are quite common. I took care to choose a comfortable nest site.” She had to admit his obvious pride in his choice was well-deserved. A hot spring by one’s bed was definitely a comfort to be proud of.
His scales sparkled as he exited the pool and climbed up to her. She slung her bag over her shoulder and wrapped her arms gently around his neck. He scooped her up into his arms with such ease it made her feel weightless. She realized his lean form was nothing like the slim built humans she was used to. Every inch of him was tightly packed muscle, more than a match for the most muscle bound human.
His speed surprised her as he moved through the tunnels. Even carrying her, he moved quickly enough for her to feel a breeze on her face. It brought tears to her eyes to be able to experience such a simple thing again. Before the fire, she had loved to run, relishing the way the air moved around her as she charged down the hillside in the park by her house.
Rhee didn’t bother with her flashlight as Urzon made his way through the dark tunnels. Instead, she closed her eyes against the dark and enjoyed the feel of the wind tugging her hair. She opened them again when he stopped and found they had reached a large cavern with the remains of what seemed to be a mining outpost. Some sections of the roof had caved in, allowing sunlight to filter in, illuminating the web-strewn machinery. Not enough for any topside inhabitants to venture into the tunnels, but water dripped in, likely from a prior rainfall.
She saw the building designated as staff housing and indicated that Urzon set her down there. The door squealed in protest as she forced the hinges to move. Inside, she found a chain dangling and gave a cautious tug. Weak yellow light filled the space, occasionally flickering. It was enough to see by and Rhee browsed the cots and wardrobes for bedding. She did her best to avoid the random pools of dark yellow goo on the floor and noticed some was dripping from the ceiling above. She was about to point her flashlight up into the rafters above her, but decided she did not need the nightmare fuel that likely was up there. Instead, she investigated the wardrobes and was pleased to see a few still had clothes in decent condition, especially compared to her tattered ones. She scavenged what she thought might fit.
Moving into the shower area she found bars of soap and shampoo, various grooming supplies, and towels. She spied toilet stalls and opened the door, thinking to relieve herself. Smashed egg sacs and a few dead tunnel spider hatchlings nearly had her screaming even though she realized she should have expected it. The third stall was luckily free of remains and she made use of it. By the time she returned to Urzon, her bag was nearly bursting and her arms were full.
“We can return if you require additional supplies,” Urzon said softly as he scooped her up again. She was surprised he showed no difficulty with the additional weight which had made her slender arms tremble slightly to carry.
Back at the nest, Urzon deposited her on the hot spring side of his nest. Rhee felt a bit safer on this side as Urzon’s nest acted as a wall between her and the colony and she decided she should build her own ‘nest’ on this side. Satisfied with her decision, she looked over the space and began setting up her new home.
#####
Having successfully supplied Rhee with suitable bedding and other necessities, Urzon retreated to his nest to rest. At least, that’s what he told himself he was doing. In reality, he sat half draped over the rim and watched Rhee work. He saw her injury clearly now, her foot dragging a bit behind her as she built herself a nest at the base of his own.
It was oddly satisfying to have her here, he mused. He had been so eager for independence, to move out on his own and be considered a full grown. Now, he found he relished the extra company. She was not loud like many of the other younglings had been growing up, nor did she demand constant attention from him like the younger ones had done. He knew he would have new responsibilities with her in his care, but he did not mind extra hunting or occasional carrying her places.
A splash drew his attention and he noticed Rhee had discarded her tattered cloths and was entering his pool. Their pool, he mentally corrected himself. He wondered if she knew he was watching her, but decided to remain quiet in case it embarrassed her. She had a strange rock with her and it foamed as she rubbed it in her hair. She used another rock and handfuls of sand on her skin and he watched fascinated as it too foamed when rubbed.
Scents he had no name for wafted up from the pool and he found them pleasant and relaxing. He decided he would ask to try these interesting foaming rocks when he next used the pool. She seemed content to soak now that she had used her rocks and he decided to look over her nest progress.
He had to admit she was an excellent nest builder as he took in the round nest she had built onto the side of his. Bones created a firm, raised platform and framework for the ample cloths she had piled up with a section open so she could easily get in and out without trouble. There were even strange puffed cloths that seemed filled with air carefully arranged at one end.
A sloshing sound announced Rhee had finished in the pool and he glanced over, seeing her wrap a large cloth around herself. Her skin was bright pink from her scrubbing and he was pleased to see a content smile on her face. She took a second smaller cloth and began drying her hair with it. He could tell washing had not removed the majority of tangles and wondered what he could do to help. He watched her retrieve a strange pronged item he had seen before and begin raking it through her hair. He winced as she tugged snag after snag and decided he needed to intervene.
“Here,” he said gently, holding out his hand, “let me.” She placed the strange item in his hand and he set to work. He had never used an item like this before, yet it acted like tiny fingers which made sense to him. He worked slowly, teasing the snarls and knots with its tiny prongs and his fingers. Eventually, Rhee’s hair was tangle free and he began braiding it as he did his own. As he reached the end, he cast about for a way to tie the end, but Rhee took the braid from him and coiled it at the back of her head. She then stabbed it with two slender bones, securing it in place. Urzon had to admit the look suited her. His job complete, he went to return to his nest when he heard her stomach rumble.
“Was the scuttler not sufficient?” He asked her, concerned he had not provided a suitable meal.
“No it was,” she assured him, “a human typically eats three meals a day. The… scuttler was the biggest meal I’ve had in quite some time.” For such a small creature, he realized, her stomach certainly required frequent feeding. It also concerned him that her comment likely indicated she had not been receiving sufficient sustenance. He would promptly rectify that. He also filed away the new word for her kind, human.
“I am a skilled hunter,” he told her, “providing regular meals will not prove difficult.” Her answering smile sent his stomach fluttering and he turned before his cheeks heated. He would not take as long as he had with the danglers so he felt it was unnecessary to place her atop his nest. “I will return shortly,” he told her and headed off to hunt.
Thank you for reading! I hope the more violent nature of the story didn’t detract from your enjoyment. Let me know your thoughts in the comments or, if you’d prefer to discuss them privately with me, send me a direct message.
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