He took some notes. “I have to say, your feelers are a fascinating piece of anatomy. Your tentacles, too.”
My feelers and tentacles both moved in automatic response. They floated with sprightly energy, happy to be acknowledged.
Jaeyoung watched them closely. Curiosity burned in his eyes.
“Your tentacles. I’ve noticed they’re prehensile—you can grab objects with them. But what about your feelers?”
I laughed. “Oh, no. I couldn’t pick up anything with my feelers.”
“Why not?” He leaned down, picking up a rock. “You couldn’t hold this with them?”
My feeler mane flattened against my back, shuddering at the idea. “They are much too sensitive.” I tried to think of an example he would understand. I recalled what Zat’tor taught me about human anatomy earlier. “It would be like... picking up a rock with your erect penis.”
He cleared his throat, apparently not expecting that response. “I see.” After furiously taking notes, he gestured to my mane with his writing utensil. “So, your feelers are like genitals?”
I tilted my head. “Not quite. They are not vital to procreation.”
“Not quite?” he echoed. “That implies theycanbe used during procreation.”
“Yes, that’s true.” I let out a wistful sigh. “I’m sure it would feel wonderful.”
A dash of pink appeared on Jaeyoung’s cheeks. He continued walking briskly. “So, is the orchard ahead?” he asked.
“Yes, just over that crest.”
Soon the trees opened up before us, beautiful towering beings topped with colorful fibers. I put my hand on the bark of the closest tree and closed my eyes. I felt the pulse of the tree’s life against my palm, connected by its roots to every other plant in the area. Their pleasant whispers called out to me. Like an old friend, they were happy to see me.
“Do you hear that?” I asked Jaeyoung.
He kneeled on the ground, picking up fallen kofotta tuft samples. “Hear what?”
It surprised me for a moment before I remembered he was human. Could he not hear the plants at all, or could he just not hear themyet?
“This is a fascinating fiber,” he said, examining the vial of orange fluff. “I remember the clothing you made with this for Paz and Levi was incredibly soft.”
I perked up. “Yes. I offered to make one for you, too. But you said no,” I recalled, drooping with disappointment.
Jaeyoung frowned. “I... I didn’t want you to go through all that effort for me.”
Was this like the table tidying scenario again? Was Jaeyoung pushing me away because he didn’t want to burden others?
I noticed a pile of light blue kofotta tufts on the ground. Picking it up with my tentacle, I brought it to my hands and began teasing it apart with my claws.
Jaeyoung watched closely. “What are you doing?”
“Preparing the fibers. The texture must be right before I begin,” I explained.
“Begin what?”
“I’ll show you.”
When the tufts were thoroughly unravelled, I hooked my claws into the furthest sections and began to work. Within seconds, the blob-like tufts transformed into a recognizable shape. Jaeyoung’s eyes widened. He watched, mesmerized, as the unassuming tree fiber became a Jaeyoung-shaped article of clothing.
“Could you grab that tuft over there?” I asked, nodding to the orange pile he’d sampled.
Wordlessly, he picked it up.
“Good,” I said. “Now pry it apart with your fingers.”
