“Per-oo, Karen. Per-oo-dense,” I shot back, incensed on not only my behalf but Kehlor’s.
Rek frowned, staring at me. “Your Poo hit head too hard, Kehlro? Not ‘member Rek name Rek.”
Was he intentionally playing dense or was this the norm?
Glancing from Kehlor to Rek, I blinked stupidly. “I’m sorry, Karen, what was that? I wasn’t paying attention. You lost me, snot eyes.”
“Snots eyes?” Rek’s jaw dropped and he spluttered. “I not Karen Snots Eyes! Rek has pretty eyes! My Jojo say so all the times!”
“Jo do? No recall her say Rek eyes pretty. Huh.” A tall, thin Lo denaii male walked up, grinning at Rek’s fit of pique like he rather enjoyed heckling the male. “Think they look like-”
“No one cares you think,” Rek growled. “Shuts your face, Go.”
Good. Rek needed a heckling.
“Kehlor,” Go greeted, though his tone implied they were civil but not on friendly terms.
“Gofur,” Kehlor grunted out back.
Gofur glanced from Kehlor to Rek, then to me. When his gaze landed on mine, bright blue eyes roamed my face, pausing on the gash on my head someone had applied something to that seemed to be like a sort of bandage, holding it all together. “You female ‘kay? She need healer?” Gofur asked softly, quietly, as if he feared I might startle.
Realizing my fingers were curled in Kehlor’s fur, gripping it tight, and he was gently resting one of his hands over one ofmine still, a comforting gesture, I forced myself to loosen my grip.
“Poo fine, Kehl say,” Rek answered for both of us, then took another massive bite of fruit. “Vurhg kidnap, hurt, piss Kehl’ Poo off.”
“Kehlor,” Kehlor corrected, as if the shortened version of his name was not welcome issuing from Rek’s lips. I couldn’t blame him. He’d shortened me to Poo! Kehlor made no move to correct Rek’s assumption I was Kehlor’s. Nor did I. It was honestly better to let them think I was Kehl’s at this point.
“Poo?” Gofur muttered slowly. “Kehl’ Poo?”
“Go funny in the head?” Rek grumbled, scowling over at the male as Gofur gave him a look. “Too many fun times, our Jojo turn you brain to mush? Rek say Poo. Kehl’ Poo.” Rolling his eyes in an overly dramatic fashion, Rek huffed. “Dummy head.”
“Pru,” I corrected.
Rek gave me a look. “That not what Rek say? No give Rek the funny looks. Rek not pick name that sound like you poop dense, Poo-dense.”
“Prudence,” I grumbled, getting a little growly sitting here, exhausted, barely keeping it together, head throbbing something awful, while he holds us up butchering my name, nosing in peppering us with questions, and insulting Kehlor.
“Pah-ru-dense,” Gofur grumbled at Rek, frowning his way. “Her name Pah-ru, not Poo, worms in the brains.”
Rek gasped and slapped a hand to his chest, diva incarnate. It was then I noticed the heavily beaded bag he was wearing over his shoulder.
“Don’t drop your purse, Karen. You might lose the last marble rattling around in there for safekeeping.” I huffed the insult under my breath. I thought it, I said it. It’ll someday be my undoing, I know. Mom was fond of telling me this.
Gofur seemed to have overheard, bursting out laughing.
Kehlor let out a grunt that told me nothing.
Rek’s face screwed up. “Rek not know Rek like that. Rek not know Rek impressed or ‘sulted.”
“Be ‘sulted,” I answered for him, hoping it made him huff and stomp and storm off in a whirl around, purse flapping in the breeze display.
Rek bared his teeth and shot closer.
Kehlor’s hand left mine, shot out and grabbed Rek by the throat, blocking him from getting in my face.
Gofur let out a rumble that surprised me, as if he was protecting Rek, despite their antagonistic nature towards each other.
Kehlor growled louder, seeing it was two against one.
