Selvanar
I arise before the human woman does, as soon as sunlight streams in through the windows of the miniature house. My body is ready to take flight and return home, but my wing whimpers pitifully in the background.
Doubtful I’ll be flying on it within the week. That’s unfortunate. Living in the human world is uncomfortable at best with everything constantly humming around me. And who knows what’s dangerous and what isn’t? Can I even eat human food?
I climb up to the roof and watch Trisha sleep. As soon as the sunlight travels far enough across the room that it touches her face, she stirs. Bleary eyes blink open, and I sit up straighter. Even with her lids puffy from sleep, she is beautiful.
When she sits up, that brown breast has slipped completely free of her shirt. I gape, taking in the heavy swell of it and the hard, dark nipple on top. For a split second, I’m compelled to get closer, to take that nipple in my mouth and suck on it.
Like last night, I’m amazed. I’ve never reacted like this to a human.
But she draws me in somehow, and I rise off the roof of the small house and drift carefully to the floor, which is about the most I can ask of my wing.
The carpet is a bit thick, but I can navigate across it to the bed, where the blanket hangs down low enough for me to grab on and start climbing up.
“Want help?” the human asks, sitting forward.
I grumble but nod in assent, and she offers me her palm.
I hop into it, and she lifts me the rest of the way up.
From here, the windowsill is accessible, so I cross to it and my wings are able to get me the rest of the way up onto the ledge.
The window’s still ajar, only a few inches wide to let in the cool air, but that’s plenty for my needs.
I hold up my fingers to my lips and let out a sharp whistle. The human squints and covers her ears.
“What was that?” she asks.
I wave a hand dismissively. “Just wait.”
A few moments later, I hear the familiar buzzing of a bumblebee. It swoops down to the window, landing on the sill beside me. Its compound eyes gaze up at me expectantly.
“Did you do that?” Trisha sits forward on her bed to get a closer look. “You whistled for a bee?”
“Indeed. They are very kind and obedient creatures.” I bend down to pet the bee’s furry body, and some pollen comes off on my hand. “Hello, friend. What’s your name?”
The bee rubs its little feet together to make a high-pitched noise. I repeat it back, and the bee does a pleased hop.
“Are you talking to it?” The woman peers closer, startling the bee. I put a hand on its head to calm it.
“Yes, of course. Their language is not complex, but they can understand enough.”
Speaking to the bee, I make a few high-pitched noises to convey my message. Please visit the Treebound Hive, I instruct. Let them know I am alive and will return home as soon as I can.
The bee rubs its feet together again to tell me it understood, and immediately buzzes off into the air. With that task resolved, I sigh and sit down on the windowsill so my legs dangle off the edge.
Now it’s simply a matter of waiting. I hope the human has something in her home I’m capable of eating, because my stomach is turning over with how hungry I’ve become.
“What sort of food do you have?” I ask. “I’m starving.”
Trisha blinks down at me. “Food? Hmm. I’ve got some eggs and breakfast sausage I could whip up.”
“Eggs? From an animal?” I stick out my tongue at the thought. “You eat that?”
“Well, yes. They’re high in protein and easy to cook.
” She rises from the bed, tossing off the blankets, and now I can fully see her.
And oh, is her shape marvelous. Below her significant breasts, her belly has a smooth curve, and her rear is, well…
enticing. Perfectly round and strong, with thighs that match.
“I could try to find something else,” she goes on. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
She leans down to offer me her palm for the second time, and with a huff of annoyance at needing her help, I step into it.
Trisha carries me out of the room, into a hallway that leads to a much more open space. We reach a counter, where she offers to set me down, and I happily climb off to stand on my own two feet again.
Once she flips on all the lights, she rifles through the refrigerator, clearly looking for something. When she returns, she has a few items in her hands: a large yellow and red fruit, a carrot, and a bag of greens. She sets them all on the counter in front of me and props her hands on her hips.
“Will any of this work?”
I survey the foods on offer. I am used to apples and pears, which are commonly grown in this part of Oregon. The yellow fruit is new to me, but I can probably eat it.
“That,” I say, pointing, and Trisha nods before fetching a knife. She separates the fruit into slices and offers one to me on a plate, then thinks better of it and cuts the fruit into even smaller pieces, much closer to the size of my hands, before sliding the plate across the table.
It’s such a thoughtful gesture that I’m genuinely caught off guard.
I didn’t think humans were quite so… considerate, I suppose.
Thoughtful. They always seem to be bumbling about without regard for anything around them, but Trisha is measured and even, like she carefully weighs what to do before doing it.
“Thank you,” I tell her as I grab a piece of fruit. Once I put it in my mouth, though, there’s an explosion of flavor. It’s sweet and tart, with a unique bite I’ve never tasted before.
“Nectarine,” Trisha explains. “They’re not super fresh because they have to be shipped here, but once it ripens, it’s pretty great.”
I nod to agree, my mouth stuffed full of this “nectarine.” Quite delicious.
After I’ve eaten some of that, Trisha repeats this with the carrot, chopping off a few small pieces for me.
“I’m going to start cooking for myself,” she says. “Will it bother you?”
I wrinkle my nose, thinking of the sausage she mentioned, but don’t say what I’m thinking. She was kind enough to provide fresh produce for me, after all.
“It’s fine.”
With a bright smile, Trisha turns to her fridge and withdraws her ingredients.
I sit on the counter as I eat and watch her, fascinated by her movements.
She flows through the world like water, smoothly flitting from one task to the next.
I feel like I’m in a trance as she turns her sausages, and I’m only dimly aware of the acrid scent of cooking meat.
Then she comes back to the counter with her plate and sits on a stool to eat in companionable silence. I truly don’t mind her company, this human, and I am certain now I have no reason to fear her.
A lovely creature.