He chuffs again and I want to slash him, or flip him off even though he likely wouldn't even understand.
"I really feel like giving you impolite fingers right now, Fluff Brain."
"Alright. Alright. Don't maul me. For me it feels like I'm taking a breath, but in my hands. Inhale, retract. Exhale, extend. Most of my friends only really talked about extension, comparing it to an orgasm or a sneeze."
I hadn't been paying attention to my hands when I cut him. Now I look at them, taking a breath in, then out and imagining they are moving with me.
Nothing happens. I think of sneezes, orgasms, yawns, even farts and still nothing happens.
After a few minutes, I look back up at him. "Am I stuck with these out like this forever? How am I going to touch you?"
He glances down at my hands. "Look."
I do and see that my normal nails are showing now.
I pull them up for a closer look. A short distance from the base of each nail I can see where the scales would part to let through my claws.
I assume they must glide over my existing nail base. The thicker additions to the backs of my fingers are now a second nail base for my black claws.
On a whim, I picture swiping at Thivoll with my impolite fingers, and they extend. I grunt, then think of polite fingers and touching him gently near his whiskers like he enjoys and they pull back in.
No way in hell am I going to admit that his nonsense about what mothers tell toddlers worked.
Never.
Then I think about Silver again. And the unknown woman that Szhe'ka went to go find. Two people I have no proper control over helping right now, but who I still feel like I need to be doing more to protect.
At least they have someone looking out for them, even if I don't really know their protectors' true intentions. I need to do better for the others.
My claws are out again and I need to do something with them.
"We need to do more than just survive, Thivoll. We need to find more women. Gather more allies than just Szhe'ka and Kuret. The hunters can't win. I feel like tearing into something. Anything."
He purrs and pulls me close to him. "We will. And that is a normal feeling, though more common in manticorid males than females."
I growl, the thirst for violence taking up so much room in my chest I'm not sure what to do with it.
Is this how all the violent offenders who frequented the ER felt? I suddenly have more empathy for them, even while rejecting their choices to act like they did.
What do I do to let it out? I really don't know.
I desperately need some sense of normalcy.
I push his chest. "Let me clean your wound."
He growls. "It's just a little kit scratch."
I narrow my eyes. "Unless you want more of them, you'll let me sanitize it."
He huffs, but sits back on his haunches and pulls his tail around and up to a comfortable working height.
"What a good Superkitty," I say in a singsong voice, then poke him in the ribs.
My heart still feels like someone is squeezing it in a death grip, and I know I really should apologize to Thivoll for snapping at him, but right now I just want to avoid it all.
I can't think about what it means that the one person who helped keep my mind in one piece for all of those long days of terror is gone.
I just can't.
