She looks... bashful. Her gaze drops to her hands before she tucks some of that lovely soft brown hair behind one ear. "I think that would be unwise, Rynn."
Just my name on her lips makes me want to groan like a fledgling Protector spilling into his seed pot for the very first time. "I think it would be very wise," I tell her, reaching forward and tucking her hair behind the other ear to match. "I can protect you better when you are at my side, always." Zahreenah makes a funny little snort-laugh at that and rolls her eyes, though I do not think she is upset with me. I hope not, at least, for it is true.
"We'll talk about this later," she tells me, rising from her place beside me with a pat on my shoulder. I watch as she makes her way over to where her companions stand talking after being nourished by their meals. Occasionally, the females pause long enough to glance around at all the Trixikka whose attention is either still on their food or utterly devoted to the four females. I stand and reach for my spear, butting the bottom of it onto a nearby sitting rock. Giving those Trixikka whose attention I manage to distract from the females a pointed look, they have the grace to look ashamed for how they went against my warning about staring and making the females uncomfortable.
"I still do not like this, High Spear," Mavyx says, coming to stand with me, his muscular arms crossed over the broad planes of his chest.
I resettle my wings behind me. My Second Spear is a good male. He is fair in his command of my Protectors and perhaps the best fighter among them. He is also a cautious male. Many times this has served him well. "Brother?" I say, inviting him to lay bare his concerns.
"The females..." his words trail off as he watches our new clutch of females.
"You... do not like them?"
Mavyx huffs and shifts on his feet, his eyes finding the darker-skinned female, Ah-lanah. "I did not say that. I-... they are-... they are soft and delicate and... they...jigglewhen they move. Their bodies are so unlike ours. There are... curves and roundness. It is... almost hypnotizing and far too distracting."
"This is a bad thing?" I ask, my gaze finding that fascinating tailless rump of Zahreenah's.
"Rynn," my friend says, gaining my attention back. The concern I see in his eyes is deeper than that of enticing curves and the way the female's bodies'jiggle'. "We have females outside of the Temple to protect now. They are more vulnerable than I ever guessed they might be. Do not tell me you are not concerned. All of my males are wishing for their heart-stars to light - to take a mate, as you have. They are not focused on protecting Tribe and Temple any longer."
I grunt, nodding. "The female's presence is new. A novelty. Our Protectors will remember themselves when seeing the softness of a female becomes normal to them." I pray to the Goddesses that this is true. "But to be sure, increase their training. Remind them that no one will be blessed with a mate if the tribe cannot keep these females safe." Just saying the words forms a knot in the pit of my gut.
Chapter 14
SERENA
Just like the night before, Rynn keeps guard outside our hut. It makes me start to wonder how little sleep this guy can function on. When we wake, he allows a trio of Trixikka into the hut to bring us food to eat, water to drink, and a wooden basin filled with more water for us to wash up. What I would give for a shower, soap, and shampoo right about now... and deodorant and clean clothes since I'm still in my oversized ratty t-shirt and sleep shorts from when I was abducted. The four of us pick at the food and wash up in relative quiet, some of that fermented drink from last night having left my head a little foggy. Much of the fruit and meat is left untouched.
Surprisingly, it's Bea who breaks the silence. "He guarded us last night again," she says meekly, nodding toward the small window where some of Rynn's muscled shoulder and dark wing can be seen outside. "Like he did the other night."
"Looks like ‘king of the bird-men’ wants a taste of Serena's'delicacy',as he put it last night." Chastity comments as she wipes a wet rag of thin leather over her arms. Alana snickers half-heartedly but I notice Bea's cheeks color as she averts her eyes, pretending to be more concerned with washing her legs and feet. She's uncomfortable with Chastity's brand of humor, that's clear enough and I can't blame her. We've been abducted from our home planet and abandoned on an alien one. Is this really the time for sex jokes?
"Chastity," I warn, widening my eyes and tilting my head in Bea's obviously uncomfortable direction when I have her attention.
She wets her lips and apologizes. "Sorry... I...shit," Chastity throws the rag down into the basin of water, making a sloshing noise. "If I don't joke about all this fucked up stuff that's happening to us... if I let myself stop and reflect on it, I'm gonna end up curled into a ball, crying in the corner, you know?"
Bea looks up and everything is quiet for a moment. Alana and I exchange glances. "I…” Bea starts, fiddling with the cotton of her pajamas. “I can understand that."
Chastity reaches for the rag again, dragging it along the back of her neck. "My therapist said it seems to be my go-to defense mechanism. Shit, it's how I managed to have a career in porn and stay sane."
"You were in porn?" Alana asks, but honestly, I can see it. You have to develop some kind of tougher skin working in the adult industry and maybe humor is part of hers. I frown to myself, not willing to analyze what's been part of my self-defense arsenal all these years.
Chastity grins. "Ladies, you are talking to Chastity Charm, the star of titles such as, 'Little Redhead Riding Good', 'Ginger's School of Misbehaving Girls' and let's not forget the blockbuster that was 'Busty Redheads 3; Return of the Titties'."
For a second or two, none of us make a peep until someone - I'm not sure who - lets loose a God-awful snort-laugh and before I know it, we're all cackling like mad. It feels so utterly wonderful to do something as familiar as laughing. To find amusement in all of the shit we’ve been through in the past few days.
When we've washed up enough, we step out from our little 'girls only' hut and I don't fail to notice Chastity giving Bea's hand a comforting little squeeze and a smile. Only we're stopped in our tracks two steps outside. Rynn is leaning a shoulder against the stone of our hut. He kicks off from the wall when he sees us. "Offerings," he explains, coming to stand next to me as we all look down at the collection of around twenty-to-thirty clay pots. "For you, females."
"That doesn't mean what I think it means, does it?" I ask, turning my head toward him but still surveying the array of pots, those pretty stones, and a few feathers here and there. Honestly, it looks like the Trixikka have laid out some sort of altar for us.
"None are for you, do not worry," he says, folding his muscled arms across his broad chest. "I'd shred the wings of any who dared make an offering to my mate."
Chastity finally says what we're all thinking. Very loudly. "Why is there a pile of jizz jars outside our hut?"
"The eligible males of my tribe have left you offerings," Rynn explains. Or rather, doesn't. There are a few of those males hovering around now, trying to covertly watch for the other girl’s reactions to their 'gifts'. Rynn notices them and makes a warning grunting sound accompanied by an agitated flick of his tail so they begrudgingly melt away behind a nearby hut.
Crouching, my fingers find a small bundle of feathers tied together with some kind of dried vine. I pick it up and stand, stroking my fingers over the still glowing, but slightly dulled lights on the tips. These glow a pistachio sort of green at the moment. "But what exactly do the males expect us to do with... theirstuff?"
Rynn's eyes are glued to my hands as they idly play with the feathers. "They do not expectyouto do anything with their seed." He says, intent gaze not once roaming from my hands, the tufted tip of his black tail twitching as he watches. "You aremymate. An offering made to you by anyone but me would be a direct challenge to their High Spear." Finally, it seems he cannot take it any longer as he extends a wing and grunts as he yanks out two perfectly fine feathers, their tips glowing aqua blue. Swiftly, he snatches the feathers I'd been idly toying with and shoves his own into my hands instead. "The males givethe otherfemales their seed and gifts in the hope that they will accept their offerings and in turn, give them healthy younglings," he says, completely ignoring the fact that he'd just had a mild fit over me touching some other bird-man's feathers.
