"I see. Medicine has been taken over by technology in my culture, so there are really only technicians left. The word must have lost that meaning at some point."
I blink slowly, absorbing the loss of an entire profession.
Everyone is always afraid of the newest form of technology and how it might replace their jobs. It sounds like there is some validity to that fear after all.
I open my mouth to ask another question, but he interrupts me. "I would love to discuss this more, but we should move out of the area and to another tree. I climbed in haste and so there will be damage to the bark."
"Yikes, we should definitely move then," I reply.
"I'm not sure what 'yikes' means, Ree," he says, his voice puzzled and his whiskers drooping slightly.
"Uh, well I'm not sure of the official definition, but I just use it when I think something sounds really important and I hadn't realized it."
He nods at me, the movement clearly not natural for him yet, but seeing him trying to communicate with me in my own gestures makes my chest feel full.
Not to mention it makes his fluffy mane move in a captivating way.
I realize I'm staring and shake myself out of it. "Is there a better way for me to ride you . . . um . . . er . . . no, that sounds wrong. A better way for me to hold on to you on the way down?"
I'm embarrassed about my slip of the tongue and hope he doesn't get the double meaning.
"I liked the way you held me on the way up," he says, his voice with an underlying purr that makes me think we are talking about more than just logistics now.
20
Thivoll
I wish I had done more than surface level research on humans, but how was I to know I would ever meet one?
There are countless species out in the universe and the odds I would meet any of them, let alone be attracted to one, were astronomical. Better information would have made trying to figure out why Ree's face keeps turning red much easier.
I hope it isn't related to some sort of medical condition, though I would assume if she worked in medicine they would have dealt with it.
Then I remember with a shot of panic that their technology is incredibly primitive.
It makes me speak before thinking.
"Are you healthy?"
"Well, yes. I think so?"
The redness from her face dissipates, but now there are odd wrinkles on her forehead. I once again have no way to know what the expression means. But there's no time for that now.
She's far too distracting.
I want to know everything about her as fast as possible.
"We should move now," I tell her again, then gently reposition her so she can clasp herself to me again.
The somewhat uncomfortable grip she had on my mane on the way up was a small cost for how lovely her embrace felt.
Manticorid anatomy would never allow a female to wrap her legs around me and it sent a thrill through me when she held on to me with such a firm double grip.
The same heady feeling rushes through me again and coupled with the ever-present scent I'm fairly certain must be arousal, I can feel myself swelling against the confines of my sheathe just thinking about it.
Confident I'll stay confined, I let myself enjoy the sensation and the heat of her core against my fur on the climb down.
Part of me wishes I could have climbed slower, but the other part of me that's firmly in charge knows I need to get her to safety as soon as I can.
