Jiith let out a raspy chuckle that turned into a painful, wracking cough.
“It is well known that females are the weakness of turochs, but I’ve never witnessed it for myself.”
Uriish had said similar things when he first joined us, and I knew a syto had no concept of mates and families.The idea that the strong protected the weak was as strange to them as the idea of free will and not serving their Kwin.It had taken months, but Uriish hadn’t mocked our matings in a long time, and I often spotted him watching the mated couples with a longing look in his dark eyes.
Maybe Jiith would die before he realized there was a better way of life, or maybe he, too, would eventually yearn for a mate.
“Her weakness kept you alive when your Kwin wanted to watch you starve,” I said.“Surely you can see the benefit in a female’s kindness.”
He opened his eyes and stared at me wearily.“She should not have helped me; I was just too cowardly to accept death when it was my time.”
I shook my head.There was no point in arguing with him in his state.I only hoped he’d be less morbid once we had food and water.
“Score!”Jessa called.“I found bottled water, a flashlight and canned corn!”
She appeared in the doorway, arms laden with supplies and flashed a beam of light over us.
“Dinner is served!”
20 Jessa
As the only personwith two free hands, I wielded the can opener on the creamed corn I’d found.I’d set the flashlight on its end, pointing the blinding light at the ceiling and cast a cold LED glow over the gross living room.
I cranked on the opener as I looked over the inside of the trailer.Not even a trailer park trailer, no, who ever lived here wanted nothing to do with neighbors.Or cleanliness.The musty, mildew smell could be blamed on six months of no fresh air or upkeep.But not even an alien invasion could excuse the hundreds of crushed beer cans, cigarette butts, and empty chip wrappers littering the floor.
The only way this place could get grosser would be if I stumbled upon the owner’s rotting corpse in one of the rooms.I shuddered at the thought and handed Jiith an opened can and a spoon.
“Eat,” I ordered, passing him a plastic spoon that I’d done my best to wipe the dust off of.That’s right, the former occupant didn’t even have metal spoons.I’d found a cupboard full of mouse chewed paper plates and a party sized box of disposable cutlery.
Classy as heck.
“And don’t think I didn’t hear you being a sad, pathetic, cry-baby,” I said.Part of me cringed at my harsh tone, but I’d gone way out of my way for Jiith.I’d fed him at my own risk, I’d done my best to encourage him and I was feeding him again.I’d literally walked over glass to give him a chance at survival and all he wanted to talk about was how we should leave him to die.
Clearly coddling him wasn’t working, so I was shifting strategies to tough love.
“I am pathetic,” he agreed, looking down at the creamed corn with what I could only describe as visceral horror.“Too pathetic to waste supplies on.”
