"What's your name? Mine is Ree," I offer.
"Ree?"
When he says my name, it's with the sexiest gravelly purr. "Is that the right way to say it?"
No one has ever said it like that but no way in hell would I want to correct him. I feel another rush of heat between my legs and gulp, then realize I've let too much time pass.
"Y-yes, that's right," I say hastily.
"My name is Thivoll."
I test it out on my tongue, but don't say it out loud, feeling self-conscious even though I seem to be doing just fine communicating so far.
He rifles around the dead bodies, which makes me feel slightly guilty, but I'm far too practical to protest.
My gaze snaps back to him when it occurs to me that his limbs aren't bending as I would expect.
After a few more moments of observation, I realize he has an additional set of joints compared to a human. There's an elbow up close to his chest like a cat has, but then another halfway between it and his wrists.
Watching how he articulates his arms with an additional joint makes me feel queasy.
"There is nothing here of worth," Thivoll says after another few minutes.
I nod, then get annoyed with myself, relieved to have something to distract me by such a rude reaction to the natural way his body works.
"That'll be a hard habit to break," I grumble.
He hums again. "That gesture with your head? Just tell me what it means. No need to break a habit."
"Oh. Thanks. When I move my head up and down, it means yes. If I move it from side to side, it means no," I explain, moving my head the way I describe.
"Fascinating. I'll remember, and later I'll show you the equivalent from my culture. For now, let's move to safer ground, Ree."
Thivoll walks back over to me, then extends an arm out. I hesitate, then take his hand in mine.
It's huge, with fingers so long and thick I have to really stretch to thread mine between them. The black scales catch the light with a blue glow. They look raised and rough, especially starting at his wrists down, but are surprisingly soft.
His hand has two thumbs, and it's weird to feel them gently closing around my wrist from both sides. The black scales catch slightly when I shift my grip in a way that runs counter to how the scales lay against his skin.
"That is an interesting clasp, Ree," he says to me, looking down at our intertwined fingers.
I start to remove my hand from his, increasingly self-conscious, but he squeezes lightly.
"No, I like it. Very much."
Holding hands with a cat-lizard-scorpion-person as I walk turns out to be a somewhat bewildering, but very pleasant activity. We only take a few dozen steps before Thivoll pulls us to a stop.
I look up at him with a questioning look on my face.
"I hope this will not cause offense, Ree, but our trail will be very clear to any hunters if we continue on like this."
I think back to my brief foray into the woods earlier and realize I'm the weak link here. "I don't want to put you at risk because I'm with you. I can—"
I don't get to finish my thought before Thivoll starts shaking his big fluffy head. He wasn't joking when he said he'd remember the gesture.
Just that minor act makes me even more inclined to trust him.
He taps both thumbs against my wrist, the gesture soothing. "You won't bring additional risk, but I don't think you should be walking. I can carry you in my arms, but we will be faster and better prepared to flee as needed if you simply ride on my back."
