“Ow!” I shout as I rub my tailbone.
“Watch where you’re going, neophyte!” the ash-gray Dhugaren growls at me before disappearing into the crowd.
Fighting tears, I flatten my palms onto the ground to push myself up, but before I can rise a clawed footsteps right on my fingers, slicing the edge of my pinky open. Kicking me while I’m down? That’s just plain rude.
“What the hell!” I shout again, pushing myself up with aggression and pulling my hand free as I stand.
I cradle my left hand in my right, feeling the blood slick on my palm.I will not cry. I will not cry.But I have no idea what Iwilldo, because I am bleeding profusely and I have no clue where so much as a first aid kit is on this stupid station. No, not stupid station, I correct myself, just stupid orientation videos. Every minimum wage job I’ve ever had included the location of the first aid kit in the training videos.
“Mighty Ulvand! I am so sorry. I didn’t see you down there. What were you doing on the floor?”
A standard issue gray jumpsuit appears in my line of sight, then, as the wearer squats, a face comes into focus. A Dhugaren woman, I think, based on the curves obscured in her jumpsuit and the overall femininity of her face. Her eyes seem to be bigger, with thick lashes, and she’s currently giving me a kind smile, fangs included. I just barely reign in my flinch, so I’ll thank the videos for that at least. Not because she's scary or hideous, just kind of shocking the first time you see them up close.
“I–I fell. I just need a bandage maybe?” I respond, gesturing with my chin towards my hands clasped at my chest, currently leaking blood onto some of my last scraps of human clothing.
“Oh, look at that. Blood just as red as the rest of us. Hmmph, well come on new thing. Gunnvall will have a bandage for you. What are you anyways?” she asks as she guides me with a gentle hand towards a nearby stall.
With her bulk next to me, people give us a wide berth and I’m starting to wonder how the little elves—I really need to figure out what they’re called—don’t get bowled over every time they leave the house. We’re soon in front of a small shop which really consists of a floating cart (magnets, I think? Orientation Videos, seriously poorly lacking) covered with a soft blue tablecloth, simple and unadorned. Behind the cart stands a portly Dhugaren, and elderly if the gray hairs coming out of his brown ears are any indication. One of his horns is broken in half and juts sharply from his head like a tree stump. He grins widely as we approach.
“Hello, Furga. What have you found here? One of these new humans I heard about?”
“Hey, Gunn, I feel terrible. I accidentally stepped on her. I think they may be quadrupedal.” Furga looks at me sideways. “Do you usually walk on four legs or two?”
“Well, these are my arms. So, no I don’t usually walk on them.” I answer, in a bit of a daze. What was going on here? “Did you, er, Gunnvall, sir, do you have a bandage?”
“Let’s take a look, blood as red as the rest of us, I see.” He reaches for my hand, sliding a ceramic plate onto the table below to catch the blood now dripping from my hand. “Tsk. Hold it here. You’re going to need a bit more than a bandage. I’d love to have some gauze right about now. Not sustainable enough, my fuzzy brown tail.”
He mutters and grumbles, mostly to himself it seems, as he bends to rummage around the shelves under his cart. Strangely, I do not see a tail. Holding my hand gingerly over the ceramic, I glance over at Furga. She is staring at me a little too widely, and I wonder, for just a second, if she is considering eating me with those huge fangs of hers. Then I mentally kick myself, because what a speciest thing to think. Of course Dhugarens aren't all bloodthirsty beasts. They’re just as civilized as humans are. This thought does not help. Humans are the worst people I know.
So I smile back and say, “Thank you. For rescuing me back there. I think I might have gotten trampled if you hadn’t stopped to help.”
“I’m happy to help a fellow citizen, especially a kumen.”
“Huu-man,” I correct absentmindedly.
In front of me, Gunnvall has started cleaning my hand with a thick piece of cloth. I watch as he pulls out a glass cylinder and depresses the end, spraying my hand with cool liquid. Expecting the burn ofalcohol, I flinch, but the liquid is only cool and mildly minty smelling. I wrinkle my nose.
“Antiseptic?”
“And antibacterial, antiviral, though I don’t think that will be a concern here. It also has properties that will speed up healing.” The elderly man looks smug as he pats the wound one more time and winds a cloth bandage around my palm.
“Gunn here used to be a field medic,” Furga offers, seeing my surprise.
“One thing I learned in the field, always be prepared.” He wiggles his ears in what I think is the approximation of a wink, and is honestly the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Thank you. Seriously.” My eyes get misty for a second, wanting to better share my gratitude for both of their kindnesses, but I can’t find the words, so instead I say, “What are you selling here?”
“A little Dhugaren delicacy calledfortswap. Would you like to try some?”
“I’ve never had Dhugaren food before. I’d love to get some as soon as I find a fulfillment position. You’ll be my first stop once the credits start rolling in.”
“No need to wait!”
“You need a position?”
Furga and Gunnvall respond at the same time. I swivel my head between the two, craning my neck to look up at them. I’m going to need to invest in some platform shoes or I am going to develop quite the neck ache.
Gunnvall gestures at Furga to speak before turning around and shouting over his shoulder at us. “Don’t wander off anywhere!”
