I can't finish my thought because a giant red cobra big enough to eat me in one gulp with glinting red eyes flits into my head.
"I don't know what those are, but yes. He would have to be large. I would guess he doesn't have any legs and moves himself by bunching up and releasing a long body."
I shudder, a lump rising in my throat. "Yes. A snake."
"He took nothing else," he says in a low rumbling voice. "He wanted her, yes, but not for food or he would have eaten our rations. From the rate the smell is diminishing I think he likely came not long after we left and hasn't returned since. She was the prize in this raid, I think, and I'd like to believe that he wouldn't just destroy or harm his prize."
I let out a breath.
Oddly enough, he's starting to convince me, even while effectively scaring the tar out of me.
"I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or not, Thivoll. What if he returns?"
"Well, if I'm right that he didn't kill her, which seems likely, he's going to have his hands too full to bother with us. One human is more than enough to keep him busy. She'll be intelligent, of course, but I'm also sure she'll be sassy and willful, if my experience is a good indicator."
I'm wondering why he knows she'll be intelligent when his last comment and the side-eyed look he gives me catches my attention.
And of course my ire.
I grab onto his tail and pull it, finally doing what I keep threatening.
"Say that again?"
I know what he's trying to do and play along. The sick feeling weighing me down isn't helping anyone right now.
"Willful," he says, drawing out the word. "Unwilling to remain in safe places. Resistant to pampering. Frequently bossy. Shall I go on?"
I yank harder on his tail, but then he draws in a sharp breath, his eyes darting down to where I have a hold of it. I look down, too.
There's purple liquid seeping from his fur near my hand.
I instantly drop his tail, appalled. "Is that blood? What happened?"
My voice rises in pitch as I speak. "I'm so sorry! I didn't think your skin would just tear."
He pats my shoulder, his voice calm. "Let me see your hands."
I hold them up, gasping when I see long, pointed black nails. They are thick and come to a sharp point. "What the hell?"
Now I understand why the backs of my fingers have been getting thicker and more heavily scaled. The claws weren't there just a moment ago when we stopped at the top of the cave and I was scratching at the base of my nails.
"They are so precious. So tiny, yet fierce. Just like you."
I growl at him. At no point did I ever think I would be annoyed with someone for being incredibly accepting of my oddities . . . but that was before I turned into some sort of weird caterpillar that was turning into a clawed lizard instead of a damn butterfly.
"Fuck my life," I grumble.
"Of course, I will fuck you for life, my Ree."
I can't help the laugh that bubbles up at the complete sincerity in his voice.
It's our most entertaining lost in translation moment yet and it helps jar me out of my self-pity. Considering how much bitchingI've been doing about not having any natural protections, I should be pretty damn pleased right now.
How much I want to curse in a giant string doesn't help me appreciate the example of 'be careful what you wish for' though.
"How do I retract them, Thivoll? I don't want to go around stabbing you. Not on accident, anyway," I add with a growl in my voice.
He takes another few moments to stop chuffing, but then helps me out. "Most of us learn that as very young kits. But I've overheard mothers telling their young to have polite fingers."
