I let out a guffaw. "Drasuk, that isn't what's stopping you from sounding intelligent."
He whips his tail around and I yelp as it smacks into the back of my thighs.
"Ingrate," I mutter as I rub them to help take away the sting.
"Should I start comparing you to mere animals from my planet? There is, in fact, a type of furry creature that likes to screech at you and throw rocks whenever you get near it. If you get close enough, it defecates and scurries away. I think there is—"
"Alright," I interrupt, not particularly interested in knowing what traits of mine he is going to dredge up in comparison. "You made your point."
"Good. Then let me just say that we don't just rely on scent. Our sense of smell is just one of many sensory inputs we utilize for navigation and survival."
All that arrogance really must have left him with a giant head, which explains why he tramps around like an elephant.
In spite of it all, I smile.
We continue our trek, the silence no longer as awkward after our banter. The revelation about Drasuk's heightened sense of smell sparks a new wave of questions in my mind, though.
"Can you smell, uh, me?" I blurt out, the question catching even me by surprise.
He stops abruptly, his gaze meeting mine. My cheeks flush again, a traitorous warmth spreading through me.
Why do I keep asking him such personal, obvious things?
"Of course I can smell you, human," he says, his voice a deep grinding. "Everything has a scent. Yours is a curious mix of sweat, fear, and... something else."
"Something else?"
He leans in closer, his face mere inches from mine. My breath hitches in my throat, my heart hammering against my ribs. Theair is crackling with energy, a tension that is both exhilarating and terrifying.
"I believe that 'something else' might be defiance," he rumbles, his voice a husky murmur.
Then he just keeps on walking.
My mind is reeling.
Defiance?
Is that really what he thinks that “something else” is? Is he fucking with me? Because I know there's more going on here, something I don't really have the confidence to voice.
Which is completely unlike me, and I loathe everything about it.
My usual response is anger, but that quickly bleeds away as no justification for lashing out presents itself.
Maybe I'm growing up, then. It's not like I needed a justification before. Except I don't want to drive him away. Not really.
It's a terrifying thought. I hate it.
Not to mention Drasuk seems to like it when I get angry, which is crazy. No man I have ever met has liked it. Plenty have told me my anger is outright unattractive and unfeminine.
As if rage is only for men. Fuckers.
There's a lot to be pissed off about on Earth, especially with the rapid diminishment of overall respect and the insane abilityfor most of the world to completely ignore the suffering and injustice all around them.
Except when it impacts them, of course.
There's plenty to be angry about here, too. For instance, why won't my skin stop itching? I rake my nails down myself again, but freeze when I feel something rough.
A prickle of unease skitters down my spine, morphing into full-blown panic as I register a foreign sensation. My skin feels different. Rougher, thicker.
