"I know that."
A surge of rage rises into my throat. "What, because you paid to be here?"
He makes a hissing, rumbling sound that I take to be displeasure. "I would never fall so low."
"Alright, I get it. You are completely honorable, which is why you are currently trying to kill someone a fifth your size."
"Enemies come in all sizes."
He has a point, the bastard. I scour my brain. "I was in a ship with squishy aliens, and they said a manticorid is here."
He is mid-swipe when he suddenly stills.
"How many?"
I gulp, wondering if I'm giving away information to the enemy about a possible ally, but decide to tell the truth.
"Just one."
"Male or female?"
"Male."
He takes a deep breath and then speaks again. "How do you know anything about them?"
"I don't. The slimes woke me up briefly on their ship. I overheard them talking about this place and that they had captured a manticorid for this hunting season."
"Are you positive they said manticorid?"
"Yes. They just said he had venom, and they seemed scared. I liked seeing them scared, so I assume I will like a manticorid. Or die really fast, but at least they will die, too."
"Yes, they will."
I picture an entire field full of dead slime puddles everywhere and a grin spreads across my face.
"I approve," I tell it. "Maybe if we stopped trying to kill each other, we could help make more slime puddles."
I don't admit to myself just how desperate I am that he'll say yes, which he needs to do before I collapse and lose any semblance of advantage.
12
Drasuk
It seems like I made some unfortunate assumptions.
The pink creature may not be as strong or as deadly as I am, but it's not a terrible fighter. For its size. A shudder runs through me at the thought of being so small.
Plus, if there is also a manticorid here, then there may be others who are not my enemy.
If the manticorid male has venom, it's not an Abstainer, which makes me optimistic he won't be a raging idiot. Hopefully, with some mentorship from me, he can cast off his pacifism and we might have a chance of living through this.
I look closer at the small creature that may be my ally in the meantime. I cannot believe something so frail can smell so alluring.
All the whispers behind my back about my strange fixations might have had some merit, after all.
Still, it seems hasty to consider it worthless.
My anger subsides, replaced by a curiosity about this tiny creature—this small ball of violence and rage, that refuses to surrender and still yells out its insolence when clearly outmatched.
