We're on a relatively spacious platform created by the splitting of the main trunk into multiple massive snaking limbs. I can't see anything beyond that because not long after the trunk splits there are masses of smaller branches with thick feathery foliage.
Thivoll's body is still tense, and so I assume the danger hasn't passed, whatever it is.
I can't see his face, but his steady breathing suggests he isn't panicking or afraid. He moves us until he's sitting upright with his back legs folded under him. He wraps his long tail around a tree limb. Probably to provide stability since his arms are around me.
I have no proper sense of what dangers lurk on this planet.
Aside from the genali, of course. Thinking of them and their dark, bulbous eyes leering at my body for the past weeks makes me shudder.
Thivoll squeezes me to him gently, then runs one of his hands through my long hair in a soothing motion. He mostly stays near my scalp and the sensation is like no other. I always loved when my mother would play with my hair and it always brings back feelings of deep contentment.
I let out a long sigh, then return the favor by massaging my hands into the fluffy, thick fur of his mane, his scales against the tips of my fingers an interesting distraction from our precarious situation.
A gentle purr starts up in his chest soon after.
I get lost in the moment, enjoying the feel of his silky fur under my hands.
When his body starts to relax, I let out a relieved breath, but otherwise remain silent. My ears are useless compared to his and it would be reckless to speak without knowing it's safe.
"I don't hear them anymore," he tells me in a quiet voice, "but let's remain here for a short while just in case."
"Genali?"
"Possibly. They were too far away for me to say with accuracy."
"I heard them talking about this place before we crashed," I share. "This is some sort of holiday planet for terrible people, it sounded like."
"Yes. There are other species of hunters here," he explains. "Usually the type who've had lucrative careers terrorizing and enslaving. They train in ancient weapons and survival skills on the nearby moon."
"But why take the risk?"
"I assume they're bored with their usual methods of violence. It seems like the more hunters die here, the more popular it becomes. So many suicidal hunters and I'm meant to be one of the prey," he says with a chuff in his voice to let me know he finds it amusing.
Or I'm misinterpreting. "That's funny?"
"Yes, very much so. They'll realize their critical error soon enough."
I blink at that, not sure how to take his comment. "Uh, are you part of the military or something?"
"No, negative. I'm a vent cleaner."
I'm missing something. He's awfully confident, but I fail to see how cleaning has prepared him for this.
As usual, I lack a filter.
"I don't understand. Are cleaners also warriors on your planet?"
He chuffs in response, amused. "You are so delightful, Ree."
I feel my face coloring, but his tone lets me know he isn't making fun of me.
He hums, then explains. "Before we took the path of peace, my species was the dominant one in the known universe. Now we primarily make art, try to figure out our own mysterious biology, and keep ourselves mostly isolated to our home system."
I perk up about his mention of biology. "What's mysterious about your biology?" It occurs to me it might be too personal. "I mean, if you don't mind sharing, of course. I'm a nurse, so it's a particular area of interest."
"You take care of younglings? That must be a rewarding if not tiring profession."
"No, no," I correct him. "I think something was lost in translation there. I'm a medical nurse. I work in a hospital."
