“Hmm.” He sounded like he didn’t believe her. She grumbled inwardly and out, the strange fruit poised at her lips when she turned back to the flowing water and saw something akin to a fish.Yes! Food.Any longer without it and she’d be a zombie, one that would look at Quist and his honed, tight skin in an entirely different fashion. She didn’t want to find out what alien angel flesh tasted like.
“Quist! Can you capture that, that... swimming creature and give it to me?” She pointed at the silver streak before looking around for two sticks she could begin a fire with.
“A phena? Why? They’re unable to live outside the wet.”
“I know. I know,” she mumbled, dragging her exhausted body across the moss, gathering supplies. She once made a fire during one of her drug-induced states; if she hadn’t, the gremlins would come out of the shadows and eat her. She still had burn scars where she had gotten to close to it.
“What will you do with it?” he asked, and she heard him step into the water. She found two choice sticks, one with a divot, and using the random foraging he brought her, began to rub the wood together. Her fingers shook but she could already smell the cooked fillet.It’s either that or gnawing on Quist’s neck... or something else.She squeezed her thighs together, refusing to look at the alien splashing around in the water behind her.
“Eat it.”
A spark came forth and she almost squealed with laughter. A phena fell on the ground beside her, flapping chaotically on the moss. She reached for her switchblade but her hands closed over nothing. Her lips quirked, wondering how she was going to sacrifice the creature for food.
When she turned her attention to Quist, he stared, eyes wide in wonder at the small fire simmering at her side. His mouth parted.
“Quist?”
He dropped to his knees in the dirt and the excess water shook off him, hitting her face.
“How’d you do that?” he asked in wonder.
Her stomach grumbled. “I rubbed the sticks together...”
“And it created the blaze?”
“Is that so strange? Did you never discover fire? Cause, like, humans discovered it an eternity ago. Do you know what a wheel is?”
“I know what it is. Are you a blazing valos, Yahiro?”
She sighed, annoyed. “I’m a human. I said this several times. I came from the sky.” She pointed her finger back up.
Her vision grew hazy as she returned her attention to the suffocating phena-fish. She saw food but she felt a barrier erect itself between her and what she needed. Her energy waned rapidly and it took more willpower than she thought she had left to ask Quist for a blade.
When he handed her another feather, she didn’t ask, only took hold of it carefully and positioned its threads against the creature’s neck. With barely a thrust, its head came clear off. Yahiro, with shaking limbs and a one-track mind, gutted and skinned the beast before spitting it over the weak fire. After washing her hands, she lay down on her side to wait.
The alien continued to watch the phena cook. She wondered if her customs disgusted him when a hand with long, strong fingers threaded through her hair. She found comfort in the petting.
Her hand was too heavy to lift before long, and hunger clawed at her belly.
“What do you need?” he asked softly, bending over her suddenly, his voice hoarse against her ear. Shivers struck down her limp body. Even starvation hadn’t ebbed her arousal.
“You,” she murmured sleepily. “Food. You.”
“You have me.”
Her eyes closed and she gave in.
When she next opened them, the sky was completely overcast and the pings of raindrops filled her ears. Giant wings covered her from the rain and Quist held the semi-cooked fillet to her mouth.
She took it in her hands and ate like nobody was watching. Especially the alien who saved her life. When the meat was gone, she slurped on the bones, never having tasted something so delicious. That was until her stomach decided to fight her and punched her in the gut. A wave of nausea knocked her back on the ground and she curled into herself.
“Tell me what you need, human. I promised you your life!” Quist cursed somewhere behind her and she moaned in answer, refusing to let her body win.
“Just... a stomach ache,” she gasped as another wave clutched her by the throat demanding release. Yahiro refused to let the food go to waste.
“Why does it ache? I see no flesh wounds.” She felt his fingers on her foot, checking her feathered bandage.
She laughed softly. “Eating too fast made it hurt. I don’t remember the last time I ate meat.” Already the cramps were subsiding.
