As I cut through camp, I spot one of the cat guys in the distance and head in that direction with my bucket of spices. At first I'm not sure which one it is — they're both similar in coloring — but then I see a long tail slap against the snowy ground in frustration. No tail is Chalath. That must be Valmir. Perfect.
I approach, but he doesn't seem to notice my arrival. He's too focused on the sand-scorpions that keep climbing out of his bucket. They all look very much alive, and when he picks one up, it immediately stings him. He snarls at it and drops it onto the snow, watching it scuttle away. Kinda makes me wonder how many he started with. I move over to the bucket and peer in, and sure enough, there aren't that many left in there. All alive and climbing over each other. "How's it going with the food?" I ask casually. "I'm supposed to check in and see if you need more flavoring. Doesn't even seem like you've cooked them yet."
He bares his teeth at me in a half-snarl. "How am I supposed to shell them when they keep climbing away? Or stinging me before I can rip the shell off?"
Is he serious? "Um, I'm pretty sure you're supposed to boil them first, buddy. Then you shell them."
Valmir stares up at me, scanning my face as if he's not entirely sure whether I'm messing with him. After a moment, he gives a haughty sniff. "Well, that would have been nice to know some time ago."
I guess his memories don't include shellfish cooking knowledge. "Not much of a chef back home,were you?"
He gives me an up-and-down look that could peel paint. "Some of us were handed one ration bar a day and that was the extent of our food expertise."
Well, now I'm the jerk. I give him a tiny smile. "Sorry. I'm new to a lot here, too. Namely that we're eating scorpions. That's definitely a new one for me."
The withering expression Valmir shoots my way tells me I'm not forgiven. "What did youthinkwe were eating?"
My brows go up. Okay, dickface. "Anyhow, boil them and then you peel the shells. I'll tell Devi you're behind and don't need seasoning yet."
As I turn to leave, he calls out. "Wait."
Oh, do I get an apology now? I turn around. "Yes?"
"Boil them...alive?"
"Isn't that how you cook crabs and stuff? I don't know. I'm not a cook either."
"Oh, so you mock me when I don't automatically know how to prepare food, but it's fine for you to be ignorant?"
I make a face at him. "Wow, I can't imagine why no one came over to help you out. It's certainly not because of your sparkling personality. As for the scorpions, I don't fucking know. How about you go ask someone instead of pouting about all of this?"
The jerk smirks up at me even as another scorpion escapes his bucket and makes a run for it. I don't point that out. Let him lose all of them and be a big old failure. I don't care. We can be scorpion-free tonight and it can be all his fault.
To my disgust, the jerk actually starts purring.
My lip curls. "Really?"
"Really what?" He fakes being confused.
"Purring? Just because you're being such a dick?"
"I'm not purring." His strange, catlike mouth draws down into a frown and his whiskers move with it. It's so weird andyet...oddly appealing? I find myself staring at his mouth for a long, long moment.
And then the purring gets louder.
And I realize some of it is starting to come from me.
And I realize...it's notpurring.
It's resonance.
Oh my god. I'm resonating to this dickhole.
This is a nightmare.
I touch my chest, and I'm resonating so hard that it feels as if my innards are vibrating. Instead of feeling unnerving, it feels strangely good. Appealing.
Arousing.
