《Tales from a Charcoal Moon》
Chapter 1
Eli awoke to the pounding of heavy drumbeats in his skull. A thick blanket covered him from head to toe, presumably layered on by some considerate crew members. The darkness was comforting, and the warmth cocooned him with the promise of a lazy day off work. Still half-asleep, he tossed and turned, trying to get more comfortable on the hard, lumpy floor. As he came to, he realized he was smelling a slightly pungent odor faintly reminiscent of gasoline fumes ¡ª It certainly smelled strange, but he wasn''t about to complain about some alien scent here or there, especially not after a party like... like...
He jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat as buried memories of smoke and fire erupted to the surface. There was no party. He''d been mid-shift, working on repairing an airlock when the emergency sirens went off. He remembered running, finding packs of other crew members surging through the wide halls of the ship, barely avoiding sections that had violently depressurized in the surprise attack. He suppressed the urge to vomit. Unbidden, images of crew members¡¯ lifeless bodies and the screeching of tearing metal invaded his mind.
Breath hitched in his throat as he felt the telltale signs of panic well up inside his chest. Beneath the coarse fabric his pulse raced and his muscles tensed as a wave of fear threatened to consume him. His reflexes kicked in before those thoughts spiraled completely out of control: "In... hold... ooout..." he thought to himself. The rhythm came back as naturally as muscle memory, his mind gripping onto it like a drowning man clutching a rope. He repeated the mantra for dozens of minutes, the training steadying him even as his thoughts swirled with fragments of confusion and fear.
Eventually his chest loosened, his heartbeat slowed, and the tide of panic receded. "I''ll worry about that once I get myself to safety," he told himself, clinging to the thought as his focus returned. He couldn''t shake a troubling realization lingered at the edges of his mind, though: he didn¡¯t remember strapping into a life pod ¡ª or anything about the crash that must have followed. Where had the survival bag come from? Who had put him in it? The questions sharpened his unease, but he bit down on them and forced them away.
"Focus. Focus on the now," he reminded himself, gripping the insulated fabric of the bag. He was alive, and preserving that fact had to be his mission. He could focus on the rest when that wasn''t in jeopardy. He located the release zipper and tugged it open just enough to look outside, only to be instantly blasted with frigid air and bright, warm sunlight. He bore the cold as his eyes adjusted, somewhat thankful for the biting sensation for giving him something else to focus on besides his recent memories.
Just a few dozen meters out he saw his life pod. Or what remained of it, anyway. It was little more than a lump of slag, now; he imagined it must have ejected him in this bag once the computers on board determined it wouldn''t survive the impact. Around it he could see various bits of debris, most of it ashen and burnt, but a scant few larger pieces still burned with inner heat as they snuffed themselves out. The crash had carved deep wounds into the snow, exposing veins of hard-packed permafrost and dull red clay that bled through the icy white crust.
His eyes drifted over the surroundings next. Thin green clumps of hardy alien grass, tinged green and wiry, bent stubbornly in the intermittent icy breeze. It wasn''t snowing at the moment, but large swathes of the ground were still covered in little rolling hills of snow twenty centimeters thick in some places. The large splotches of grassy permafrost clear of snow sported the occasional bush ¡ª they seemed to grow only a meter tall at most and sprouted jagged and uneven out of the ground with visible, gnarled roots. At least from his warm, safe survival bag there was nothing else of note as far as his eyes could see.
Well, at least he was sure he wasn''t on a spaceship anymore.
With a deep breath and one last goodbye to warmth, he slid himself out of the survival bag and into the cold air. "Fffffuck, I''m *not* dressed for this," he muttered to himself as the cold air pricked at his exposed arms and face. He was thankful to still be in his work uniform, at least ¡ª insulating mesh overalls covering up a pair of jeans, steel-toed boots, and admittedly non-uniform-compliant tee. He regretted not wearing the regulation coveralls now, although he banished the thought from his mind as he quickly got himself to the remains of the escape pod.
His foot hit the ground, but instead of the reassuring firmness he expected he felt himself lift, weightless, into the air. The movement stretched unnaturally in time and space, not long enough to feel like floating but just enough to be disorienting. The surprise of it caused him to tumble to the dirt ¡ª the slower speed at which he fell did little to ameliorate his surprise at suddenly launching himself several inches into the air and almost a meter forward with a single light step. Despite the hard, frozen nature of the ground beneath his head, he wasn¡¯t in pain - the landing was enough to knock the air out of his lungs, but it didn''t hurt whatsoever. As his confusion faded and he found himself staring at the sky once more, he realized the planets'' gravity was far lower than standard. Of course, there wasn¡¯t much he could do about it, so he dusted himself off and continued with much gentler steps to the remains of his pod.
A few minutes of inspection confirmed his fears. The pod was worthless, barely more than slag. The emergency beacon had fused into its chassis from the heat of the impact, and the emergency ration box was totally charred from some sort of internal fire. Dread crept up against the back of his mind as he considered his options. He was on his own here, or at least he wouldn''t be getting help from the remnants of his escape pod. He''d need to find shelter from the cold, clean water, and food in that order if he''d even want a chance to so much as think of a way to signal for rescue.
Thoughts of rescue led him to another consideration: would he need to be able to defend himself? He had no clue what kinds of hostile creatures he might find here, and he''d feel much better with a weapon in hand. The holdout pistol that was supposed to be in the pod was melted with the rest of its vessel, but a few more moments of diligent searching led him to the one piece of equipment left in mostly working order: an emergency crowbar, pint-sized and bent at an odd angle. He picked it up and gave it an uncertain toss in one hand - it was better than nothing, and he''d just have to hope any xenofauna he ran into would be small enough for him to handle with it.
Now so fully and confidently equipped, he cast his eyes around the horizon. He had to find some kind of food and shelter at least, and both of those would be easiest to find with civilization, if there was one on this planet. He paced a bit as he scanned the far distance, both to see behind the hulking form of the wasted pod and to help get some blood flowing to banish the cold as it pecked away at his inner warmth. Eventually some movement caught his eye; smoke, perhaps. Although it was weak, it billowed up into the sky enough to cast a visible, if paper-thin, trail that he could see.
He cursed quietly to himself at seeing that faraway hope. Judging by the fact that he couldn¡¯t see the smoke¡¯s origin, it must have been somewhere past the horizon. ¡°That¡¯s... five-ish kilometers at least?¡± he mumbled to himself as he struggled to remember the equations he was forced to take in his service training. After a little more thinking, he set the analysis aside and turned around to look at the sky behind him. He figured that the sun was still rising, based on the shadows being cast by the debris nearby, but even with the promise of warm sunlight he wasn''t confident he''d be able to keep himself from freezing before reaching that tiny pillar of smoky hope. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
Even with the sun''s warmth on his back, the cold bit deep and seeped into his bones. The air felt close to freezing ¡ª not immediately deadly, but enough to leave his fingers aching as he rubbed them inside his overalls for relief. He cast one last, desperate look around, searching for anything useful¡ªsomething sharp, even a jagged piece of shrapnel, to cut the crash bag¡¯s tough fabric into a makeshift coat. As it was, the bag was far too heavy and unwieldy to carry. More of a bloated, charred coffin than a sleeping bag, it had done its job but was useless now unless he could reshape it into something portable. Ten fruitless minutes later, he gave up the search, frustration and cold pressing harder against him with every passing moment.
He wasn''t at all confident of his odds, but he was at least uninjured and had a lead, one he wasn''t going to give up on just because it seemed too far for him. Besides, he thought, if he wasted more time hoping for something better, the warming sun might pass by him before he reached his destination, and he didn''t want to find out how cold the nights got on this planet. With every passing moment, the cold ripped harder against his resolve. He fixed his gaze on that faint column of smoke over the horizon ¡ª fragile, yet full of hope. There was no time for second-guessing. One foot in front of the other. Move or freeze.
Chapter 3
The quartet squeaked excitedly in unison as Eli curiously watched them bustle around the yurt, assembling their meal. They sang a smooth, flowing song as they worked, each one threading its own simple harmony into the whole. Eli found himself drawn in, dissecting each part of the melody to trace its layers: Red''s chords deepened with resonant effort as it pulled a particularly heavy bag from the clutter, while Cream''s tune shifted into staccato chirps, triumphant at unearthing some large, squat, pine-cone-shaped object.
His focus broke as Grey approached, eyes sharp with inquisitive curiosity. Tugging gently at his wrist, it trilled quietly and pointed to the provisions at the far corner of the tent. "Wiparoto n?ta!", it said, raising its hands to trace symmetrical sweeping contours into the air. Eli scanned the provisions, looking for what the alien was trying to describe. There it was ¡ª one pot, vibrant red amongst its dull neighbors, matched Grey''s gestures. He strode to it, mindful of the fragile array around it, and lifted it by its neck.
Surprise flickered through him as he lifted the huge container with ease. The sloshing of liquid he heard inside indicated it was full, but despite its size it felt lighter than a toolbox. Grey squeaked with alarm as it saw the pot rise with such little effort. Eli knit his eyebrows pointed at it and tilted his head in response, imitating what he hoped was confusion ¡ª Grey nodded in response, at first tentatively, mouth slightly open as if aghast, and then vigorously as its awe faded. "Aah!~" it exclaimed, then performed an excited dance, spinning in place as it took exaggerated, high-knee steps.
With a broad ruffle of its wings, Grey approached the brazier and pressed its toe claw into the ground to carve a shallow circle. It began to speak, but Eli, guessing its intent, brought the vessel over and set it as indicated. As he crouched to place it down, his curiosity pushed him to take a look inside. The liquid was tinged crimson and grew black with opacity as the depth increased. His curiosity drove him to taste it, but lacking a proper container and unsure if it would offend to use his hands, he hesitated.
A trill from behind drew his attention away from the strange liquid. He turned to see Cream standing there, one winged arm cradling a shallow bowl filled with muted pink dust. The creature tugged at his hand, then fell into a half-squat. Intrigued, Eli joined it, settling cross-legged on the packed earth. "Piru!", it pirruped brightly, pointing to the dust. Eli supposed that was what they called the substance, but he didn¡¯t have time to verify the idea as Cream proceeded to dip a ladle into the dark liquid he''d just retrieved and splash it into the dust. Crimson streaks bled into the pale mass, binding it into clumps like water meeting flour. With deft, practiced movements it kneaded the mixture into a smooth, elastic ball ¡ª it was making dough! Raising the finished product, Cream offered it to Eli for inspection. He nodded, still unsure of its purpose but intent to learn.
After several more moments of quiet, it pulled the ball to the side, setting it along the edge of the bowl. With flour-dusted claws, it gripped the ladle and extended it to Eli. He took it, still wary of his own assumptions, but Cream gestured to the bowl with a deliberate nod. "It wants me to help", he thought.
Keeping his eyes on Cream for reassurance, Eli carefully ladled more red liquid onto the flour. He paused, waiting for any sign of disapproval, but the alien merely observed, its ears swaying gently as he began to mix.
At first, he tried to mimic its technique, using broad, sweeping motions to knead, but the difference in anatomy quickly became apparent ¡ª his fingers offered precision their claws couldn''t, while Cream relied on the strength of its palms. Eli quickly adapted to his own method, letting his hands guide the dough into a pliable mass. Cream didn''t seem to mind the change; it watched briefly, its toothless smile soft and approving, before rising to tend to other tasks. Eli glanced after it, feeling a quiet satisfaction as he continued, the rhythm of kneading soothing, his part in this small ritual unexpectedly fulfilling.
As Eli worked, kneading little balls of strange, pink-tinted dough, he found himself falling into the rhythm of the work. The simple, repetitive motions became almost meditative, blending in with the warmth and music surrounding him. Though it couldn''t banish the worries weighing on him ¡ª the anxiety of a home he might never see again, the unease of being among a people he couldn''t yet understand ¡ª it was a soothing anchor in the chaos.
The yurt itself was a comfort, its heat radiating softly, its alien inhabitants strangely disarming. Despite his lingering doubts about their true intentions, their small gestures of goodwill had eased his fear far more than he''d anticipated.
Almost without realizing, Eli began to hum. It was a simple, low tune ¡ª baritone against the raptors'' bright, layered birdsong ¡ª but it slid naturally into their melody nonetheless. He let it flow, unconsciously harmonizing, the quiet vibration in his chest grounding him as his hands worked the dough. Time slipped past unnoticed until he looked up, drawn out of his trance.
The yurt had fallen silent.
The transition had been so gradual he hadn''t noticed at first, but now every raptor was still. They stared at him with wide, questioning eyes, tails flicking in erratic arcs. Their gaze was unrelenting, intense, as though he''d stumbled onto some sacred act.
Eli looked between the four aliens, his breath hitching in his throat. He replayed the moment in his mind ¡ª had his humming crossed some unseen line? Singing, he realized, might hold a meaning he hadn''t yet grasped. Though his anxiety wasn''t the paralyzing force it had been earlier, it still gripped him now, tight and insistent. His heart pounded as he waited, uncertain under their collective gaze.
Sky broke the silence with a soft, almost plaintive chirp. Red followed, echoing the same sound before letting out a quiet hum with its gaze locked intently on Eli. Though Red''s tone couldn¡¯t quite match Eli''s deeper pitch, the intent was unmistakable ¡ª it was mimicking him.
His fingers nervously worked a ball of dough as he grappled for a response. Should he repeat that word of friendship they''d taught him? The thought of speaking it aloud in the brittle quiet made him hesitate ¡ª he still didn''t fully grasp its meaning. Maybe he should harmonize again? His mind churned with doubts until one clear thought struck him like a bell: He''d been mimicking them, and now it was mimicking him, returning the gesture.
His idea was a gamble, but one he felt compelled to take. Eli began humming the same tune back at Red, tentatively at first, then with growing confidence. His deeper voice resonated beneath Red''s higher, lighter tone, the two weaving together in an impromptu duet. Red blinked rapidly, its feathers ruffling as it abruptly turned away. The gesture struck Eli as bashful¡ªperhaps even embarrassed.
For a moment, the harmony between them lingered, fragile and unspoken. Then the others joined in, their voices swelling brighter and louder, as though the moment demanded a crescendo. The tension shattered, replaced by a burst of energy as each raptor scurried back to their tasks. Sky and Grey swayed as they sang, their movements joyous and unrestrained.
Eli exhaled deeply, the sigh a mix of relief and exhaustion. The approval in their renewed vigor was unmistakable, but the repeated cultural clashes were taking their toll. His heart still pounded as he returned to working the dough, his hands moving instinctively while his voice blended softly into the melody around him. This time, he resolved not to lose himself in his work, opting instead to let his eyes wander and observe the others.
Cream and Grey were stationed by the fire, stirring a sticky sauce with a metal spoon. Cream sprinkled a dull brown powder ¡ª harvested from the ¡°pine cone¡± it had found earlier ¡ª into the mixture. The two raptors tasted the sauce, chirping animatedly as they discussed what Eli assumed was the flavor before adding more of the dust.
Nearby, Red sat cross-legged with a scorpion carcass nearly as large as its torso resting in its lap. It methodically shucked the carapace off with its claws, maneuvering into each joint with practiced ease to pry apart the meat from the shell. Eli felt his stomach turn as he considered he might be expected to eat it, much to his surprise, his revulsion softened when he saw its insides ¡ª the meat looked almost like lobster, pale and juicy, and marbled with creamy fat.
He averted his gaze from the conflictingly succulent-looking insect meat to observe Sky making some sort of tea. It had been busy enthusiastically crushing knife-shaped leaves in a mortar and pestle, rocking in place with an excited half-dance as it worked. The dried foliage broke down into a fine powder under its eager grinding, which it scraped into a small kettle. With little flourish of its rear feathers, Sky hung the kettle on a purpose-made hook over the brazier¡¯s glowing coals.
Eli idly wondered what the tea might taste like as he reached for another scoop of doughy flour, only to scrape against the smooth, glazed bottom of the bowl. His task was done ¡ª all the dough had been shaped into roughly even balls, their soft forms flattening under their own weight against the edge of the vessel.
He glanced up at Cream and gave a small wave to catch its attention. Lifting the bowl for it to see, Eli felt a surprising flicker of pride as he displayed his work. Cream hopped lightly in place before ambling over, inspecting the contents with a critical eye. After a moment, it turned to him and nodded ¡ª a gesture Eli was increasingly sure signified approval, as universal here as it was among humans.
Bowl in hand, Cream moved back toward the fireplace to continue working, its palms deftly shaping the dough into wide, flat discs. Eli stepped forward, ready to assist, but a gentle tug on his arm stopped him. Grey had approached, and now it urged him toward its station with a quiet insistence. It gestured toward the sauce it had been mixing just moments ago. Eli leaned in to examine it, curiosity bubbling up as he tried to guess what he''d be taught next. Whatever Grey wanted from him, he felt another lesson was at hand, and he felt his excitement grow as the quiet camaraderie of this shared work wove another thread of understanding between them.
Red approached with scorpion meat in hand. With a deft flick of its claw, it shore a thick strip off the chunk and presented it to Eli. He took it tentatively, only to have Grey chirp and take his wrist in its hand. Its touch was gentle, careful to point its claws away from his skin as it guided him to lay the strip onto the grill. Once the meat was in place, Grey released him, and the trio stood, each humming their own apprehensive tune, watching as the meat browned. The dull grey meat gradually transformed, taking on a luminous, milky orange hue. Grey squeaked and gestured for Eli to retrieve it.
He glanced around for a tool ¡ª not willing to risk burning himself ¡ª and spotted the spoon used earlier to stir the sauce. Closer inspection revealed it was more like a shallow, concave spatula than a true spoon, which only made it more suitable for the task. He gave it a brisk shake to clear off the residual glaze before using it to lift the sizzling meat. He didn''t wait for prompting before dipping the piece into the sticky brown sauce, ensuring it was coated evenly, and then placed it into Grey''s waiting bowl. He hoped he had assumed the correct process; the whole thing felt intuitive to him, and his recent streak of accurate assumptions only emboldened him further.
Grey''s eyes widened as it watched Eli use a tool to manage the grill, tilting its head from side to side with a blend of curiosity and confusion. Suddenly, it blinked and nodded with unexpected vigor, startling Eli with its intense approval. Before he could process the moment, a sharp chirp from Red pulled his attention back. It was already holding out another slice of meat while shuffling its feet impatiently.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
Taking the next piece, Eli paused briefly, recalling thoughts of his earlier successes and the task at hand. With a determined start, he settled into a rhythm: laying the meat on the grill, flipping and removing it with one hand while dipping and placing it with the other. The work flowed smoothly, a small victory in the ongoing dance of understanding between himself and his alien hosts.
At first, his work was slow and methodical, but after a few tries he was able to establish a quick rhythm. He worked purposefully along with the group''s tune, each movement in lock-step with the melody as it flowed. Soon, Cream joined him, having finished its work flattening all the dough balls. It placed a small, skillet-like slab of iron on one corner of the grill and began cooking the flatbreads. The discs sizzled as Cream flipped them often, then set them aside ¡ª warm, almost tortilla-like ¡ª and placed them in the same bowl that held the candied meat. Grey wasted no time in taking the ingredients and assembling them into soft tacos.
The cooking wrapped up after a dozen more minutes. The scents and sights of the food grew more tantalizing, but Eli fought to keep his hunger in check; he could only assume the time to eat was fast approaching, anyway. Sky brushed past him, carrying a large, unwieldy roll of fabric, which it unrolled on the ground. Unlike the intricately embroidered tapestries draped around the tent, this one was plain and heavily stained, its years of use evident in every frayed thread.
Grey placed the bowl of food in the center of the blanket, and the four aliens gathered around it, settling in with casual ease. They chattered softly among themselves, their words gentle and aimless, but after a while, the conversation tapered off. Then Grey chirped, and all four of them turned their attention toward Eli, still standing near the brazier, unsure of what to do next.
Eli stared, worry creeping up his spine again. He couldn''t decipher any rhyme or reason to their behavior, and his mind struggled to find a social convention he may have broken. They simply sat there, eyes wide, unflinching. Red''s ears flicked with annoyance while the others sat with their tails swaying gently. His breath hitched in his throat.
Without warning, Red sprang to its feet, startling Cream, who let out a sharp chitter and nearly toppled over. Red strode over to Eli, gripping his wrist with an unexpected force. Eli flinched, but stood firm, choosing to trust their kindness thus far. Though Red¡¯s grip was rougher than the others, it was careful with its claws, guiding Eli to the circle with determined urgency. "Natha!" Red barked, before returning to its place and settling back down.
He blinked. He''d never even considered that their silence had been an invitation ¡ª they''d been waiting for him. A strange mixture of humility and confusion washed over him. He hadn¡¯t anticipated this level of effort to include him in their customs, but it occurred to him that sharing food and participating in their rituals might simply be their way of treating a guest. He shook off the momentary bewilderment and sat, gathering himself.
Cream, with a taco in its claws, dripping with juice and glaze, started to offer it to Eli. But before it could, Grey emitted a sharp, halting chirp. Cream froze mid-motion, startled by the command. With a knowing shake of its head, Grey produced a chunk of cheese from within its feathers, presenting it with a flourish.
It raised the chunk of cheese high, turning it slowly in its clawed fingers. The others leaned in, their eyes gleaming with reverence, as if the cheese were some sacred relic. Sky let out an excited trill, its tail swishing with unabashed joy, while Cream tapped its claws rhythmically on the ground ¡ª a gesture that could be described as applause. Even Red, normally the most reserved, tilted its head slightly and emitted a low, approving hum.
He watched, still puzzled, as Grey began to shave the cheese over the food. The air in the yurt thickened with anticipation. Every pair of eyes was fixed on the action, the tension almost tangible as the others barely restrained their excitement. Once the cheese had been fully grated, Sky let out a sharp whistle and a musical cheer that filled the space, and with a synchronized movement, each of them darted their claws to grab a taco.
Hand half-outstretched to the food, Eli hesitated, despite the growling in his stomach. Seeing his indecision, Cream gently pressed a taco into his palm with a warm smile. He exhaled a breath he hadn''t realized he''d been holding, and returned the smile in kind, small and relieved as it was. He still hesitated to eat, though, choosing to observe the others for a moment longer.
They ate calmly, with quiet precision. Each of them held their food delicately between two claws, palms cupped underneath to catch any crumbs or drips. Occasionally, bits of food fell onto the cloth beneath them, but they were quickly scooped up and devoured. There was no tearing or gnashing of teeth, no savage ripping of flesh like their anatomy suggested. Just a calm, orderly procession of bites ¡ª an almost-reverence for the food they consumed. It struck Eli that they were making a deliberate effort to seem non-threatening, to maintain a sense of decorum.
He did his best to follow their lead, lifting the taco to his mouth with a palm outstretched to catch any drips; his dexterity gave him a pronounced advantage in the endeavor. With a shaky breath, he opened his mouth and took a bite. His shoulders relaxed as the rich, fatty meat, wrapped in smoky glaze, mingled with a spicy heat that pressed against his sore throat, but never crossed the line into overwhelming. The tortilla, soft with a faint char, carried mellow earthy undertones, while the cheese added a firm, creamy tang that balanced everything.
He could barely restrain himself as he gulped down the food. The hunger from a full day''s trek, combined with the meal''s deep, satisfying flavors, stirred an insatiable craving within him. He barely considered propriety as he reached for a second helping, his movements slowed only by his subconscious desire to savor the tastes. It was only when he finished with a deep, contented sigh that the gnawing fear of the unknown returned to him in force. He looked around furiously, bracing for the worst, but the aliens showed no reaction. Their lack of concern, their calm, was a silent reassurance.
As the tension in his shoulders began to loosen once again, he leaned back with a satisfied sigh and wiped the last of the glaze from his lips. The aliens hummed and chirped softly among themselves, their energy relaxed and companionable. Red tore into the last piece of meat with deliberate relish, while Sky darted in for a final flatbread, its tail swaying happily. Even Grey trilled contentedly as it delicately polished off its share. The tent had settled into a calm rhythm, the earlier tension replaced by a tranquil harmony that continued to settle Eli''s nerves.
The brazier''s glow flickered warmly as Cream padded over to retrieve the kettle from its hook. Everyone''s attention was drawn to the soft sound of liquid being poured into small, carved cups; Eli''s gaze followed the steam curling from the tea, its sweet herbal scent mingling with the remnants of smoke and spice in the air. When Cream handed him a cup, he hesitated for a moment before accepting it, his fingers brushing against its warm, smooth surface. ¡°Thanks,¡± he mumbled softly, unsure if the alien would understand. Cream had already begun moving on, but paused mid-step and turned back to him, its eyes wide as saucers.
"Sss- saahhnks", it attempted, head tilting gently as it weighed the unfamiliar word. The ensuing silence hung heavy in the air, and it pressed its upper ears flat against its skull in a gesture akin to embarrassment.
Eli blinked, taken aback by the alien''s effort to mimic his speech. Cream''s voice fell strange upon his ears ¡ª light and airy, with a slight hiss that made the word sound stretched and unfamiliar ¡ª but it was unmistakably an earnest effort to replicate his "thanks." A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he nodded encouragingly, carefully repeating, "Thanks", once more.
Cream''s ears flicked upward in excitement, its body visibly brightening as it chirped softly and tried again. The second attempt came closer to Eli''s pronunciation, and Cream''s eyes sparkled with pride. Its tail flicked in small, triumphant arcs, the motion a perfect mirror of its quiet elation.
Eli chuckled under his breath, raising the carved cup to his lips and taking a small sip of the tea. The sweet, herbal warmth spread through him, accompanied by a subtle sharpening of his senses and a faint, pleasant haze. He suspected it had unusual properties, but he found he didn''t mind; the effect was so mild it felt more like calm clarity than anything else, easing his nerves as he smiled at Cream''s flicking tail.
The moment felt surreal, but also oddly connective, and not because of the tea ¡ª he could feel the tentative bridge forming between them, word by word. They didn''t share a shred of language, but they were trying to communicate regardless, and he found himself yearning to meet them halfway. As they sipped their drinks, Red leaned forward, tilting its head and wiggling its ears with curiosity as it pointed at him.
Eli hesitated, brow furrowing at the gesture. He searched its gaze for intent before realization dawned: it was asking about him. "Eli," he replied, gesturing to himself. "Eli."
The name sparked a flurry of attempts to replicate it. "Ee-lei," Red echoed sharply, followed by Grey''s softer, almost sing-song "Eh-liii." Cream''s version was gentler, a whisper against the air, and Sky practically shouted it, its enthusiasm drawing a soft laugh from Eli.
He pointed to them in turn, wordlessly asking for their names, but they only exchanged glances before chirping at one another in rapid, melodious bursts. His heart sank; perhaps their names were not meant for him, or were unutterable without birdsong. Before the weight of disappointment could settle, a soft trill from Grey pulled his thoughts away.
It blinked slowly, ears twitching as it seemed to come to understand. It tapped its own chest with a clawed finger and chirped, "Suda." The name was crisp, almost regal in its pronunciation.
"Suda", Eli repeated, nodding. Grey ¡ª Suda ¡ª chirped brightly in response, its tail flicking with approval.
Next, Eli turned to Cream, who tilted its head and tapped its chest with its palm. "Tia", it said softly, its voice almost musical.
"Tia," Eli echoed, smiling as the alien preened with what seemed to be pride. Tia chirped twice and gestured toward the others, evidently eager to keep the introductions going.
Before Eli could gesture to Sky, it leaned forward, energetically tapping its chest rapidly and exclaiming, "Oreo!" The name practically bounced out of its mouth, infused with vibrant energy. Eli raised an eyebrow in surprise but couldn''t suppress his grin.
"Oreo," he said, unable to stop a chuckle as the alien bobbed its head enthusiastically, clearly thrilled by his response.
Finally, Eli''s gaze settled on Red. For a moment it simply stared at him, sharp eyes appraising the unspoken question. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, it crossed its arms and tapped one claw to its shoulder. "Folly", it said, the name delivered with a low, confident drawl.
"Folly", Eli repeated, careful to match the gravity of the intonation. Red ¡ª or Folly ¡ª narrowed its eyes and gave a slight, approving nod, its tail cutting the air in measured arcs.
Eli leaned back, letting the names settle in his mind as he looked around the group. "Suda, Tia, Oreo, Folly", he said, pointing to each of them in turn. They nodded and chirped in unison, their voices blending together in a way that made his own name ¡ª "Eli" ¡ª sound woven into their melody. For the first time since his arrival, he felt like he wasn''t just a stranger among them but something closer to a guest.
Still, as he sat with them, the warmth of the tea settling in his chest and their cheerful attempts at communication filling the air, Eli felt an ember of hope. It wasn''t much, but it was a start.
The tent grew quieter as the evening continued into a tranquil lull. The brazier''s warm glow softened, the coals dimming to a gentle red as the air cooled. The aliens moved about with languid grace, their earlier energy replaced by the unspoken rhythms of a late night winding down. Eli leaned back, his limbs heavy with exhaustion, as the warmth of the tea and the days events tugged at his resolve to stay alert. His body ached from his trek, the fatigue of the journey combining with the emotional weight of the aliens'' scrutiny and the strange camaraderie that had slowly unfolded. For the first time in hours, he let himself exhale fully, shoulders sagging as his guard began to drop.
Suda approached him with quiet steps, its soft chirp breaking through the haze of his fatigue. Eli glanced up, too tired to resist as the alien gently took his wrist in its clawed hand. It tugged him with an insistent but tender grip toward the far end of the yurt, where the others were already settling into a sprawling nest of thick, layered furs. Tia chirruped softly, arranging a corner of the pile while Oreo flopped down with an exaggerated squeak, its tail twitching lazily. Folly sat at the edge of the mat, casting Eli a measured glance before curling up and closing its eyes with a resigned sigh.
Eli hesitated, his mind briefly flashing with questions, but his body refused to summon the energy for doubt. Suda gave another tug, and he followed without resistance, too drained to argue. The furs were softer and warmer than he''d imagined, their plush texture enveloping him as Suda nudged him into the pile. The others shifted around him, their presence comforting rather than claustrophobic, the quiet rise and fall of their breath blending into the gentle hum of the night''s winds. For the first time since waking in this strange place, Eli felt the edge of his anxiety dulling, his body surrendering to the warmth and safety of the moment. Sleep overtook him quickly, carrying him into dreams as foreign and tangled as the day had been.
Chapter 4
Eli dreamt of fire. He sprinted through sterile, gray corridors, their walls humming with the cold indifference of plastic and steel. Each airlock hissed open, spilling him into chasms of molten brimstone. The passages thronged with crew ¡ª faces twisted in terror, their screams melding into the thrum of his own pulse. Survive. Could they? Could he?
A flicker in his periphery halted him. He turned to face it, eyes straining against the dream''s miasma. The shape was wrong ¡ª alien in its motion, its presence a jagged crack in reality. Fear coiled tight in his chest, but he stepped closer, driven by a grim need to unmask the thing that had razed his world, his friends, his future.
"Eeeee-liiiiii," it moaned, the sound scraping through the air like rusted metal. "Eeee-liiii, k??taaaa."
He jolted awake, still curled on the bed of furs he''d been pulled into the night before. Cold sweat clung to his skin, amplifying the chill that had replaced the heat from the previous day''s fire. He laid motionless, eyes shut tight as he drew deep, deliberate breaths to pull himself free from the nightmare''s grip. "Just a dream", he told himself. But the hollow reassurance rang false; the dream was memory, and the truth lingered: he might never go back.
It was then that he realized he was hugging something soft. Exquisitely soft. He flexed his fingers, still half asleep as he twined his fingers into the warm, downy pillow in his grasp.
"Eeelii~" a nearby voice murmured.
He pulled his eyelids open as the sound roused him from the last grips of slumber. Cream ¡ª no, Tia, he corrected ¡ª had its back pressed firmly to his chest, his arm looped around its midsection like an anchor. It cradled his wrist in its palm, twisting its neck to glance at him from an awkward angle. Tia''s expression was gentle, but carried an unfamiliar expression that Eli couldn''t quite place; happy, or perhaps amused?
Eyes wide, he jerked his arm away with a start. A creeping sense of unease advanced upon his mind; Tia didn''t seem worried, but casually cuddling with some aliens he''d just met was much too intimate for Eli. He rolled instinctively to the side, desperate for distance ¡ª only to land squarely on something equally soft.
A shrill, distressed chirp cut through the air as Red ¡ª or Folly, he remembered ¡ª squawked with surprise and outrage beneath him. Sharp pinpricks flared along Eli''s back as it flailed to dislodge him, its protests spilling into a torrent of alien curses that needed no translation. Eli yelped, scrambling off the furious creature and stumbling to his feet, pulse racing anew.
Tia sat up and giggled an airy "shi-shi-shi-shi" at the scene. Folly shot to its feet as well, and began indignantly grooming its ruffled feathers while stomping annoyedly in a tight circle of rage. Nearby, Suda and Oreo stirred, blinking sleepily at the chaos as though it were nothing more than a passing breeze.
Eli stumbled back, mind still tangled amid the haze of sleep and chaos. He frowned as he fumbled for words, looking for anything to defuse the tension. Folly''s glare pinned him in place, its wings half-spread in a silent warning. Then it turned away with a sharp, dismissive click, tail flicking in irritation as it returned to grooming. Before he could process further, Tia leaned forward with a soft trill of amusement, its upper ears swiveling toward Eli as though inviting him to laugh along.
A steady hum from Suda seemed to ease the tension like a balm. Rising with calm authority, it stretched its wings in one fluid motion before padding over to Folly. A gentle exchange of chirps passed between them, and Folly''s rigid stance eased. Its tail, no longer lashing, settled into slow, rhythmic sways.
Eli exhaled, shoulders sagging as the commotion settled into calm. His pulse steadied, and a faint, sheepish smile tugged at his lips despite the lingering awkwardness. He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at the group with an apologetic shrug. With a quiet sigh, he muttered to himself, "Guess I''ll be more careful next time," though he doubted anyone understood the words.
Tia''s giggle turned into a bright trill of approval, and even Folly looked back at him with a begrudging pout. Eli shifted in place, unsure of how to continue but relieved by the apparent levity in the situation.
As the warmth of sleep and lingering concern from the encounter faded, though, he felt a familiar gnawing grow at the back of his mind once again. His nightmare, and the grim memories of reality it drew from, refused to be ignored. He worked his jaw nervously as his gaze darted around the yurt, seeking refuge. It landed on the exit.
Tia''s ears twitched as Eli forced himself to walk calmly past, its head tilting curiously. Suda rumbled softly, a sound low and soothing, but made no move to stop him. Eli ducked through the tent flap, and the cold struck him instantly, needling his skin as it chased away the lingering warmth of the yurt. He inhaled, the air crisp and frigid, clawing at his lungs with each breath. It was a welcome discomfort to him; the cold gave him something else to focus on, a real and present discomfort to anchor himself against memories of a problem he couldn''t solve.
His feet crunched through the shallow drifts as he moved away from the yurt, the biting cold sinking deep into his bare skin. His breath puffed out in white plumes, rising quickly to meet the crisp morning air. The frozen earth clawed at him, stealing what little warmth remained ¡ª he''d almost forgotten that his boots had been lost in the chaos. But he pushed the discomfort aside, his thoughts still reeling.
He scanned the snowy expanse before him, searching for something, anything to ground him, to pull him from the gnawing pit in his stomach. The pale sun, barely crested above the horizon, cast jagged shadows that sliced through the empty tundra. The landscape stretched on, a vast, indifferent expanse that seemed somehow more heartless than the cold void of space itself. There was nothing to focus on. Nothing but the cold, the barren ice, the aching silence. The image of his home, broken and burning in the sky, surged to the surface once more. Eli clenched his jaw, a sharp sting of panic rising, but he shoved it back down.
Focus. Focus on something real.
He tilted his head back, eyes tracing along the wispy clouds that punctuated the wide, empty sky. His worries smothered all other thoughts as he stood, the sun pale and distant against the dull hues above. Time blurred until the cold crept into his fingers and toes, dulling them to numbness until a solemn chirp pulled him from his trance. Suda emerged from the yurt, its steps almost silent in the snow. It cradled two steaming teacups, wisps of vapor curling into the frigid air. Concern etched its features as it extended one cup to him, gently proffering it into the air before him. Gratitude surged in his chest as the caring gesture loosened dread''s grip on him; he may have been stranded, but he was not alone. Tenuous as the connection was, it was enough.
He took the cup, the warmth of it seeping into his frozen hands, grounding him in a way the cold couldn''t. Suda''s eyes met his, the silent understanding in its eyes clear despite the chasm of language between them. Eli gave a small nod, the knot in his chest unraveling just slightly, and took a few sips of the drink. The bitter warmth cut through the haze, leaving behind a strange buzz as his thoughts sharpened with unnatural, lucid focus. He exhaled, the breath steady and deliberate, welcoming the clarity despite its unfamiliar edge.
Eli winced as his returning awareness made him acutely aware of the growing pain in his extremities. He looked back to Suda, then to the tent. The alien, as if reading his mind, gently took his free hand. Its touch was firm but careful, guiding him toward the warmth of the tent.
When he returned, he found the tent thrumming with energy. Folly and Tia chattered excitedly as they loaded the satchel from the previous day with supplies. Oreo was stationed at the brazier, grilling various foods and stuffing them into hollowed-out mushroom caps. The sight was oddly comforting to Eli, a strangely domestic routine in a world that shouldn''t have felt like home.
He continued to drink as Suda called for his attention once again. It crouched by the pile of provisions, gesturing to an open sack. Eli approached and peered inside to find it nearly empty, save for a handful of dried meat scraps. Suda looked at it with a frown and let out a quiet, prolonged trill of dissatisfaction. "It''s unhappy," he thought, "are they low on food?"
Suda didn''t wait. It gestured to the ground as it carved clean, shallow lines into the packed earth. Eli crouched, watching as the shapes took form: first came a fat, squat hexapodal creature with flat tusks. Next, a small stick figure, clearly depicting one of Suda''s kind, holding an arrow aloft. It proceeded to draw more arrows, some in flight, some sticking out of the beast. "Spears..." he murmured, ideas forming in his mind as he tried to gauge the meaning of the pictogram. Suda glanced at him curiously, but continued. With careful strokes, it etched a new figure ¡ª crude, but unmistakably human ¡ª standing alongside the smaller figure.
Eli''s brow furrowed as he looked at the figures, eyes tracing the lines as he pieced together their meaning. Suda''s expression seemed both patient and expectant, but there was an unmistakable undertone of something else. Urgency? The meaning was clear enough to him, at least ¡ª a hunt. The beast, the hunters, and now, a third figure ¡ª him. He pointed to the crude stick-figure, and then to himself as he tilted his head. Suda nodded in response and let out a soft but encouraging trill.
"You want me to join?" Eli replied more out of reflex than expectation. Suda''s eyes narrowed in something that might have been amusement, but it was difficult to tell through the alien expression. It gestured with clawed hands toward the open landscape outside the yurt.
The quiet between them stretched as Eli paused to think. He knew the aliens could hunt without him ¡ª they''d clearly done so before he''d arrived ¡ª but there was something else in the offer. It wasn''t a demand, but a request. A gesture of inclusion, perhaps? Or simply a curiosity about him, about humans? Eli could feel his thoughts shift within himself as the tea continued to hum in his system, helping him focus through the unknowns.
He paused as understanding crystallized in his mind. The urge to reclaim control ¡ª not for the others, but for himself ¡ª rose to the surface. He realized his dread stemmed from the helplessness that had torn at him since the crash, and this hunt offered a chance to fight back, to stop existing as a passive survivor. He exhaled as the weight of his thoughts settled into resolve, and gave Suda a quiet but resolute nod.
It trilled happily in response to his nod, then stepped in close to his chest. It planted both palms on his midsection to gently urge him closer to Folly and Tia. The two had finished packing, and now stood with crude spears slung over their backs; sleek, tarnished metal with freshly sharpened blades, the kind of weapons that told a story of necessity rather than design. Eli let out a nervous hum, at first unthinkingly but then intentionally as he realized it would mean going out into the cold without protection.
Suda caught his hesitation and immediately turned, motioning for him to wait. It moved swiftly to a nondescript sack in the corner, rummaging through it for a moment before retrieving the overalls and boots Eli had worn when they first met. It presented them to him, holding it out with an innocent, gentle smile.
His eyes flicked over the garments. They were folded with deliberate care, as though they had taken care to preserve them long before they knew they would be returning them. It wasn''t a gift, not in the traditional sense ¡ª but it carried a quiet respect, a recognition that these were his, and they were being returned to him. A fleeting but genuine smile flashed across his face before he let it fade and stepped forward to dress.
His gaze drifted to Oreo, who was fiddling with a small, gleaming tool. He blinked, then patted his overall pockets ¡ª empty. That was his multi-tool, the same one his engineering crew had gifted him on the day he was hired. The urge to retrieve it stirred in his mind, but he quickly set the thought aside. He would trust them for now, and think of it later.
Once he finished reassembling himself, Suda presented a round cloth with a hole in the center, clearly cut for him while he was dressing. It was too small to serve as a proper cloak, but Eli quickly realized it was meant to be worn like a poncho. He slipped it over his head, the rough fabric barely reaching his chest. Suda nodded approvingly as Eli adjusted it, tucking the edges in to keep it from slipping. Then, without hesitation, it moved to wrap strips of cloth around Eli''s arms, swaddling them until only his fingers remained exposed. Once done with the arm wraps, Suda presented a large sash. Eli draped it over his shoulders and tied it around his torso, securing it with Suda''s help.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
The patchwork garments were too small and awkward, but the cold grew less insistent with each layer. He stood, taking in his ragged appearance in the rough fabrics, and couldn''t help but feel a disoriented sense of amusement. He looked like something the wind might have left behind ¡ª nothing more than scraps of humanity stitched together by necessity. But warmth spread beneath the absurdity, a quiet comfort in its own strange way.
Folly and Tia approached as Suda stepped back. Folly extended a hand, offering Eli a steaming stuffed mushroom. The fungal, savory scent reminded him he hadn''t yet eaten, momentarily distracting him from the cold. He accepted it with a nod
Evidently satisfied, Folly pointed toward the exit with a quick, decisive motion. The meaning was clear: it was time to go.
---
Eli nibbled on the warm food as they traveled. His gaze was turned skyward, watching Tia fly as it scouted in gentle arcs a hundred or so meters in the air. Folly walked with him, though out of pity, companionship, or routine he couldn''t say. The quiet camaraderie felt strangely natural, though, and as he trudged forward he realized how starkly this trek differed from the harrowing walk he''d endured before. With Folly and Tia nearby, even at a distance, the oppressive isolation was gone, replaced by an alien but unmistakable sense of safety.
The makeshift wrappings proved their worth as the group pressed onward. They couldn''t fend off the chill completely, but paired with his overalls and boots they softened the air''s frigid bite into a bearable, gnawing chill. His breath puffed into fleeting clouds as his eyes wandered across the tundra, taking in jagged ridges that stretched into the horizon, their sharp outlines softened by distance and broken only by the occasional tuft of stubborn vegetation. In the far distance, a faint plume of smoke curled into the sky from behind a ridge. Eli lingered on it for a moment, guessing it came from another raptor pack, but the sight didn''t strike him as unusual ¡ª just another raptor pack, he thought as he dismissed it and pressed on.
Folly''s gaze remained fixed ahead, ears flicking restlessly as it tracked Tia''s faint, barely perceptible chirps from above. A mix of emotion and impatience underscored its every movement as it seemed to prepare itself for the hunt. Eli glanced at it, watching the way its feathers shimmered in the bright sunlight. The raptor turned to meet his eyes, determination written on its face, and let out a low, resonant hum. He nodded back and repeated the sound, earning a proud puff of Folly''s chest before it pressed forward, undaunted.
The air grew quieter as Tia''s shadow passed over them once again, its sharp eyes combing the terrain below. Without warning, it screeched ¡ª a piercing cry even Eli could hear ¡ª and swooped low, wings cutting through the air as it began to circle around in the middle distance. Folly picked up the pace, feet slamming into the ground as it broke into a run. Eli scrambled to keep pace while scanning the area ahead of him. In the distance, a creature came into view. It seemed to match Suda''s depiction: it stood almost at his own height, supported by six stubby legs. Its smooth, domed head bore two wide, flat tusks, which it was using to dig methodically at the clay earth.
Folly slowed as they approached, coming to a stop a short distance from the beast. It turned to Eli, then back to the beast, and shook its head slowly. A soft, almost pleading trill came from its lips as it gestured for Eli to hold back and watch. "Pu?uh!", it said with a firm shake of its lower ears. Its tone was clear, even without words ¡ª it wanted him to stay put. Eli wrestled with the urge to step forward, to contribute, to claim some agency bubbling just beneath the surface. But he could see the sense in Folly''s caution. Unarmed, and with little understanding of the hunt, charging in felt too reckless. Swallowing his frustration, he gave Folly a reluctant nod and hung back, watching intently as the raptor readied itself.
The wind picked up, slicing through the stillness with a frigid bite, but he barely noticed. His focus was locked on the creature ahead, its dark, beady eyes focused on furrowing the ground for food, unaware of the imminent threat. Folly slung the spear from its back, gripping it loosely in both clawed hands. Tia didn''t seem to be able to while in flight, given that its wings were attached to its arms. Instead, it let out a loud, piercing whistle ¡ª a signal which prompted Folly into action. It sprinted forwards, directly into the beast''s field of vision. The beast reared as Folly approached and turned away, frantically attempting to run from the much smaller threat. Eli''s chest tightened for a moment at the brash tactic, until he flicked his eyes up to Tia. Without the need for its wings, it gripped its own spear tightly, diving with precision toward the now-panicked prey.
Tia accelerated as the beast fled, its attention locked on the predator at its heels, oblivious to the danger descending from above. Without slowing or bracing for impact, Tia drove its gleaming spear into the creature''s leathery hide. The beast let out a piercing squeal, twisting in pain as Tia raked its sharp foot claws down its flank in a calculated, relentless strike.
The savage display made Eli gasp in awe. The raptors'' small stature belied their ability to hunt, and this maneuver seemed so well-practiced it might as well have been second nature. He watched with rapt attention as Folly seized the distraction to launch forwards, its powerful legs leaving depressions in the ground from the force of its movement. It lifted its own spear over its head, aiming for the creature''s neck.
The leatherback reared again, forcing Tia to pull its spear free and take flight to avoid a counter-attack. Folly adjusted, but not quickly enough. The spear struck true, burying itself in the creature''s neck, but it wasn''t deep enough to be fatal. The beast let out another agonized squeal, stumbling but still on its feet, blood darkening the frosted ground beneath it.
Trickles of blood welled from its wounds, but the pain seemed to fuel its rage rather than subdue it. With a guttural bellow it stumbled and swung its bulk wildly, nearly slamming into Folly, who was forced to tumble backward to avoid the crushing impact. The raptor landed on its haunches several meters away, breath heaving as it scrambled to recover, but with its spear still lodged in the beast''s neck, it was left defenseless except for its talons.
Eli''s pulse quickened as he watched the scene unfold. The leatherback, bleeding and enraged, pawed at the ground with nervous energy, its beady eyes flicking between its tormentors. Tia, circling overhead, dove again with its spear aimed for the beast''s exposed flank. Just as it committed to the strike, the leatherback let out an enraged screech and surged into a sudden charge directly at Folly.
The sudden shift in its movements threw Tia off course. It let out a frenetic chirp and hastily unfurled its wings, aborting the dive into a rough glide to avoid colliding with the ground where the beast previously stood. The beast paid no notice to it, however, and kept its focus on Folly, its tusks low to the ground, the sheer bulk of its frame barreling forward like a battering ram.
Folly tried to scramble out of the way, claws digging into the icy soil, but it was too late. The beast''s tusk slammed into the small raptor''s side, the impact sending a sickening thud reverberating through the air. A pained scream tore from his friend''s throat as a little red streak flew across his vision. Eli''s breath hitched in his throat as he saw it land in a crumpled heap a dozen meters away.
The beast skidded to a halt, throwing chunks of permafrost in its wake, and barely a heartbeat later began another charge at Folly''s unmoving body.
Eli''s heart pounded like a sledgehammer against steel, each beat deafening in his ears as time stretched into a surreal crawl. The wind howled and the ground trembled with the beast''s charge, but all Eli could hear was his own shallow, rapid breathing. His thoughts spun in a storm of panic ¡ª Folly was down, vulnerable, about to be trampled. Every instinct screamed at him to act, to rush in and do something, anything, but his limbs felt like lead, frozen by the weight of fear. This wasn''t his world, these weren''t his rules. He was an engineer, he was never taught how to fight, and yet beneath the panic a quiet fury began to simmer. He wasn''t going to freeze now. He needed to act, not just for his new friends, but for himself ¡ª for the raw need to not be powerless. His hands clenched at his sides. "Move," he commanded himself, fear be damned.
He flung the half-eaten food to the side and broke into a dead sprint. Each step tore into the ground, the planet''s low gravity turning each step into a leaping catapult. He had no clue what he''d do, but he was approaching fast. His mind surged as he grasped at his options. Then he saw it ¡ª Folly''s spear, still lodged in the beast''s neck. "The spear," he thought, legs burning as he pushed himself forward. It seemed almost simple ¡ª grab it, thrust, just like Tia. But as his hand reached out, the sheer momentum of his movement outpaced his ability to control it. His fingers brushed the spear''s handle, but instead of securing it, his body slammed into the butt of the weapon with bone-jarring impact.
Pain exploded in his chest as the force of the impact pushed the spear deeper into the beast''s neck with a sickening crunch as something vital snapped inside. The creature let out a gurgling wheeze, legs wobbling, before rattling out a final, desperate wheeze and collapsing lifeless onto the frozen tundra. Eli stood there for a moment, stunned and wheezing, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. The rush of adrenaline arced through his limbs, leaving him quaking, but his stunned stillness was brief ¡ª his thoughts jolted back to Folly. Without another moment''s hesitation, he turned toward his fallen friend, raw fear giving way to concern.
He rushed to Folly¡¯s side just as Tia swooped to land nearby. Relief washed over him as he saw the raptor still breathing. He extended a trembling hand, fingers shaking as much from the cold as the adrenaline still coursing through him. Folly''s eyes met his, a complex blend of pain and gratitude within them. After a moment of hesitation it extended a clawed hand, gripping Eli''s firmly despite the effort it took. Eli pulled gently, mindful of Folly''s injuries, and eased the creature to its feet.
Folly leaned heavily against him, breaths shallow and labored, but it managed a faint chirp of thanks. Tia approached, its feathers puffed up in concern, and lowered its head to Folly. The two exchanged a slow, deliberate nuzzle, Tia''s movements tender, almost apologetic. The moment stretched as the three shared a moment to breathe, leaning on each other as best they could while the rush of combat faded.
Once the dust settled, the raptors'' attention shifted from Eli to the carcass of the beast sprawled on the frozen ground, their eyes flicking back and forth between the lifeless creature and him with mouths agape. Folly cautiously approached the fallen beast, reaching for the spear still embedded in its thick neck, but after a brief tug, the weapon barely budged, the creature''s hide clinging stubbornly to the blade. Folly tried again, straining harder this time, but its strength faltered under the weight of its injuries, and with a chirp of frustration it turned back to Eli, eyes pleading. Tia chirped, stepping closer as though ready to assist, but stopped short, its gaze lingering expectantly on Eli instead.
He approached cautiously, his own muscles still trembling from exertion. The spear loomed before him, its shaft slick with blood, wedged deep into bone and flesh. He hesitated, unsure if he could succeed where Folly had failed, but their eyes on him stirred something in his chest. Without a word, he gripped the spear tightly, bracing himself. The metal shaft felt solid, stalwart against his grasp. He planted his boots firmly and pulled. At first, nothing happened, and he thought perhaps he would fail, but then something shifted. With a sudden jerk, the spear came free, the force nearly throwing him off balance. A wet, crunching sound accompanied its release, and Eli stumbled back a step, holding the bloody weapon aloft.
Folly and Tia both trilled loudly, their expressions a mixture of awe and surprise. Tia''s tail swayed with excitement, while Folly tilted its head, blinking as though it were witnessing something profound. Eli let out a breath he hadn''t realized he''d been holding, then lowered the spear and handed it carefully back to Folly.
Without further hesitation, the pair moved to the beast''s body. Tia began making quick, precise cuts with its talons and spear, while Folly slowly labored to eviscerate the remains. Eli stood and watched, unsure of how to help, but they didn''t seem to expect him to. Every motion of theirs was deliberate and practiced as they worked together to discard the parts of the beast they couldn''t eat. He tightened his wrappings against the wind, clutching his arms, and watched as his companions worked, preparing for whatever came next.
Minutes passed in quiet, determined silence as Eli''s gaze wandered to the growing pile of discarded flesh and entrails. Despite their efficiency, it became clear they were leaving behind a substantial portion ¡ª perfectly edible, from what he could tell. Tia carved away sections with deft precision, while Folly set aside only what could be easily carried. The rest ¡ª whole slabs of muscle and sinew ¡ª was tossed aside without ceremony. Eli frowned, his practical instincts stirring. The low gravity seemed like it''d work in his favor, and even with the creature''s massive size, he doubted it would be impossible for him to carry the remains.
Before he could second guess himself, Eli stepped forward and knelt by the carcass. Both Tia and Folly froze mid-motion, watching as he reached out and grabbed hold of the remaining large carcass, gutted and separated from most of its limbs. The raw, wet texture of freshly butchered meat made his stomach churn, and the visceral squelch as he gripped the body was almost enough to make him recoil. He paused, swallowing his discomfort, and pushed forward. With a grunt, he squatted low and hoisted the gutted creature onto his shoulders. Its weight pressed down against him, heavier than anything he''d ever carried back home, but manageable here on this planet. He adjusted his footing, trying to ignore the warm slickness seeping through his wrappings, and slowly stood.
Tia let out a sharp, trilling chirp, its wings half-spread in surprise. Folly blinked rapidly, its crest rising and falling as it stared at Eli in shock. The two exchanged quick, urgent words, as though they were trying to comprehend what they''d just witnessed. Eli glanced at them, offering a weak, strained smile as he shifted the weight on his shoulders. His legs burned slightly with the effort, but he found he could still walk.
He took a few steps forward, the gutted carcass wobbling slightly with each motion. "We can take it all," Eli said aloud, knowing they couldn''t understand him but hoping his actions would bridge the gap. He gestured toward the discarded meat with his head, then back at the creature on his shoulders. Tia and Folly exchanged another series of whistles, this time softer, tinged with what Eli guessed was a mix of disbelief and admiration. The two jumped to work; Tia unfurled a tightly-folded sack from its satchel, and the two began cramming much of the discarded meat into it.
The three set off without further delay, the low gravity making the trek barely manageable for Eli despite his awkward, blood-slick burden. The gutted creature''s weight pressed down on him with every step, but he focused on his breathing and the steady crunch of the frozen ground beneath his boots. Folly limped beside him, leaning slightly on its spear for support, and Tia joined them on foot, constantly checking to make sure the two of them could continue. Slowly, but surely, they made their way back to the yurt.
Board: 9x9 grid.
Tokens:
1 white stone (Prey).
4 black stones (Hunters).
4 blue stones (Songs).
Players: 2¨C5 (1 Prey, 1¨C4 Hunters).
Setup:
Place the Prey at the center of the board.
Position the four Hunters at the four corners.
Songs are kept in a shared pool.
Objective
Prey: Escape by reaching any edge space.
Hunters: Trap the Prey so it cannot move.
Turn Structure
Each Hunter (or Hunter player) takes one action per turn:
Move: 1 space in any direction (orthogonal/diagonal). Cannot pass through Hunters or Songs.
Sing: Place a Song token on an empty adjacent space (max 1 Song per Hunter). Songs act as immovable barriers.
The Prey then moves 1 space orthogonally (no diagonals), and Cannot pass through Hunters or Songs.
Victory Conditions
Prey Wins: Reaches any edge space.
Hunters Win: Prey is surrounded (no legal moves).
The Pack''s Extra Rules:
Feint: Once per game, the Prey may ¡°undo¡± its last turn and move to a different space in response to a hunter¡¯s move or song.
Chaos Rule (Oreo¡¯s Trick): Hunters may reposition one Song per game to an adjacent empty space.
Chapter 12
Eli awoke to find a thin dusting of snow on his eyelids. Blearily, he started to blink both the frost and the sleep from his eyes before a tickle of snow entered his nose and prompted him to sneeze violently. The motion launched all the accumulated snow off in one motion, rocking his body as it sent a flurry across his sleeping companions next to him.
Folly was the first to move, tumbling backwards into a roll before sleepily missing solid footing and tripping over himself. Oreo squeaked with surprise, bringing his head up with a sleepy yawn from his position curled by Eli''s side. Suda, who was already awake and tending to breakfast of pre-packaged flatbreads over a makeshift pit of embers, simply shook her head ¡ª though the wry smile on her face betrayed her amusement.
Eli assembled his thoughts slowly. His mind felt slow, bogged down by the accumulated stress and previous days worth of interrupted sleep; first the raiders'' attack, then an uneasy night in the ice canyons left him unable to get anywhere near enough rest. His recollection of the previous night came first, hazy and indistinct, and full of anxiety. Then, the trudge through the canyons...
A soft shuffling underneath his cloak interrupted his thoughts. His working memory evaporated, replaced by immediate curiosity. Still not fully awake, Eli shuffled under the garment and felt an unfamiliar weight clinging to his side. He reached for it, only to feel soft, downy fluff at his fingertips, and the weight moved to press into his touch with a sleepy murmur.
He blinked slowly, and lifted his arm to peek underneath his cloak.
"Mnnnn..." groaned Tia, who had both wings wrapped around Eli''s torso.
The arm on top had worked its way under his shirt, filling the space between with warmth, and her tail had come to coil around his leg. She buried her head into his shirt with a whine as the dim morning sunlight suddenly spilled over her.
Eli blinked, this time out of surprise. He was distantly aware that his heart had begun to hammer in his chest, but his mind had yet to fully catch up.
"Feather-fluffing flatface!" shouted Folly, snapping Eli''s attention away from the sleeping raptor curled upon him.
"H-huh?" he stammered.
Folly didn''t reply. Instead, he shook his body from head to toe, practically vibrating his ears, wings, hips, and tail to cast off the snow embedded in his feathers. A moment of silence passed as he preened with sharp, irritated motions, and then he looked to Eli, visibly frustrated with his ears raised as high as they could go.
"Fah!" he finally said with a snap. Then, his ears fell, and he mumbled, "Ah... not-angry... surprised..."
Eli spotted Suda quietly nodding her approval from the hearth. Oreo, finally awake, popped to his feet with a chirp and spread his wings wide, sending thin sheets of snow into the air.
"Wah! Snowy morning!" he chirruped, sending his voice in echoes down the icy canyons.
Folly backpedaled, cursing under his breath, as he tried to avoid the second flurry of the morning, and opened his mouth to snap an irritated retort before ducking to dodge a haphazardly formed snowball from Oreo.
"Bah! You villain!" Folly shouted, only to rise to his feet and receive a face-full of snow from a follow-up snowball.
Oreo descended into cackles, prompting Folly to dig his claws into the freshly fallen snow at his feet and throw a snowball of his own. It flew squarely onto Oreo''s head, sending a shower of snow in an arc around him.
Folly shook snow from his crest, eyes glinting with mischief. "Storm-chaser Oreo, mmm?" he churred, "Frosty-aim Oreo!"
Oreo''s feathers fluffed in mock outrage. "Says limp-throw Folly!" He lobbed another snowball, but Folly lurched forward, tackling him into a nearby drift. They rolled, wings flapping and tails thumping, snow spraying as their laughter echoed along the canyon''s icy walls.
The commotion stirred Tia awake. She nuzzled deeper into Eli''s side, murmuring, "Eliii..." Her voice was sleepy and soft, her little trill curling around his name.
"T-Tia?" Eli stammered, wincing as her claws pricked his skin.
Her eyes snapped open. Ears flattening against her skull, she recoiled, puffing her cream and white plumage like a startled owl. Her eyes shifted about the situation until they settled on Eli, ears twitching and in a mix of confusion and lingering drowsiness. Her feathers settled and her tail unwound from his leg with a flick, though she kept her wings in place and opted to stretch with a mighty, sharp-toothed yawn.
"Mmmh. Warmmm..." she chirped, tilting her head with a sleepy innocence that melted any tension Eli still held.
Suda snorted softly, flipping a flatbread with a claw. "Warm thief." she corrected, her waving tail betraying her intent to tease.
"N-no thief!" Tia trilled as she scrambled to her feet. She trotted toward the fire, tail raised stiff in a failed attempt at nonchalance.
"Deny, deny," Suda hummed, a slight smile playing at the edges of her lips. "Next time, nest proper."
Tia huffed, sending visible plumes of breath in the cold air, and snatched a flatbread from the hearth. "Nest was proper." she insisted, "Cold night. Pack... pack warmth!" She gestured vaguely at Eli, who sat frozen as he processed the avalanche of Afali chatter. Tia found a shiver creeping up her wings, and she turned away to fuss with her feathers, smoothing down imaginary ruffles.
Eli stood, dusting off the last of the powdery snow from his coat and hair, and offered a tentative smile. "Warm... warm good!"
"Warm is good." corrected Suda, so quickly it could have been instinct.
He paused, making sense of the instruction, and continued, "Warm is-"
Oreo, now pinned under Folly in the snowdrift, interrupted his reply with a warbling laugh. "Eli''s nest now!" he called out, earning a snow-packed wing-swipe from folly.
"Quiet, frost-brain!" he shot back, fluffing his brick-red feathers in mock irritation.
Tia ignored them, retreating to Eli''s side with a second flatbread. She raised it to him, extending her arm fully so her offering could reach her much taller packmate.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
"Eat," she said softly, swaying her tail in wide, smooth arcs behind her.
Eli took the warm gift, then hesitated. Tia tilted her head at him as his face adopted a pensive expression, searching for the right words. "Thank you for breakfast, Tia." he said. To his surprise, the unfamiliar syllables weren''t as difficult to pronounce as he thought they''d be.
Tia''s confused look turned into a glittering smile. "Yes! Good words!" she chirped, and Eli couldn''t help but feel his face flush with pride. The two held each others'' gaze, momentarily lost in the exchange.
Suda broke the ensuing silence with a gentle click of her teeth. "Perfect words, Eli." she offered, then pointed to him as her tail went from gentle sway to irritated flick. "Eat. then," she gestured to the brawling pair, still half-buried in a snowdrift, "Stop ice-idiots before frostbite."
Eli nodded and scarfed down the last of his flatbread as he worked his way toward the tangle of feathers and snow. Oreo wrestled underneath Folly, wings flapping beneath him in a futile bid for freedom. Eli hesitated, eyeing the whirl of limbs ¡ª claws sheathed, talons deliberately turned inward, their scuffle more theater than threat. Still, Avali play-fighting resembled a hurricane of knives enough to give Eli pause.
He exhaled sharply, steeling himself, and dove in. One hand closed around Folly''s arm, and the other around Folly''s leg, and with a grunt he pulled them apart, their protests drowned by the whump of wet, partially-melted snow dislodged from their between their feathers.
"Nngh! No-fun flatface!" Folly squawked, ears flattened indignantly as Eli set him upright.
Oreo chirped a laugh, shaking icy crystals from his wings. "Strong Eli! Lifts like big-beast!"
"... breakfast." Eli managed through his still-full mouth, jerking a thumb toward Suda. The grey-feathered raptor stood with her arms crossed, tail flicking impatiently by the hearth.
Folly bristled, puffing his crimson crest. "Victory is mine! Oreo yields!"
Oreo was already trotting towards the food, tail waving back and forth in anticipation. "Yield, yield! Food is better!" he trilled as he snatched a flatbread with a claw.
Eli returned to the group with Folly, finding himself standing next to Tia, who offered him a second flatbread. He accepted it gratefully, and turned to watch the exchange between the others.
Suda shoved a steaming flatbread into Folly''s chest, cutting off his grumbles. "Eat. Before ice-idiots become hunger-idiots."
The group settled around the fire, tails flitting about in the air absently as they ate. Eli settled in and looked around. No one made eye contact, no campfire chatter began. Eli looked to the sled, still packed and ready to proceed through the icy canyons. Nobody brought up the harsh trek ahead of them.