Chapter 15
Szhe’ka
When she is not accusing me of some crime against her, Red is quite the silent travel companion.
We walk side by side mostly and I have to stop myself from stealing glances at her face while she is deep in thought. Thankfully, she doesn’t notice whether or not I am looking at her so I tell myself that it is alright.
She has been rather unusually quiet all day, undoubtedly buried in her thoughts and I would very much like to know what melodies she is spinning in her mind. Probably songs of her life before she ended up here, as those are what occupy my mind. Our lost lives.
I want to ask her who she was before all of this and exchange stories about the lives we used to lead. Who knows, maybe it will help me understand her a bit more—maybe even understand the way she thinks, the things she likes and the things she doesn’t like, and why she is the way she is.
What first fluttered within my breast as a soft, downy curiosity has now unfurled into a storm-spiral of bright-feathered longing, hurling my thoughts on wild thermals from horizon to horizon. The winds of it buffet my mind without rest.
Yet sharper still is this keen note in my song: she no longer startles at my shadow upon her sky, no longer folds her wings at my nearness. But neither does she perch beside me in full trust. She keeps herself turned away, watchful.
That distance, small as it may seem across the open air, strikes the hollow of my bones with an ache that will not quiet, and my throat carries the tremor of it in every dawn-call I give.
She has begun to regularly invade my mind and I would simply like to return the action.
I am too deep in my own head and don’t notice that she has stopped walking until I hear her let out a pained groan from behind me. Turning around, I find her bent over, red threads spilling over her head like a bright, bloody waterfall.
“Is all well?” I cautiously sing as I approach her and she makes the sound again.
Before I have the chance to worry about whether or not she is seriously hurt, she stands upright and gives me a pointed look.
“Hungry, tired. Too much walking.”
The last part of the song is dragged out almost childishly but I know she is not jesting. I have not had the urge to eat—though I am unsure if it is related to my clearly slower metabolism or intense focus on the task of getting her to safety—and I foolishly forgot to ask her about her needs.
This feeling of inefficacy isn’t one I’m used to experiencing but the number of times it has crept up on me since meeting Red makes me quite uncomfortable. I want to assure her that I am the branch that does not break in the gale, but I swallow down the impulse and apologize.
“My regrets. Wait here.”
Before she can ask where I am going, I scurry off in search of something for her to eat.
I don’t have any idea what she eats; I’m certain her people don’t share the mostly nut and lean meat diet my people favor, but with her size, any small reptile should do.
As if reading my thoughts, a green reptile with deep purple stripes catches the corner of my eye and starts to crawl up the bark of a tree very slowly, as if tired of moving. I shake my head at its terrible instincts, grab a stone from the ground behind me and aim for its head.
I congratulate myself for still having perfect aim as I grab the shaking animal by its tail and begin to make my way back to Red, knowing I’ll make it before it stops spurting.
There is no way she will not be pleased with me.
“I will vomit,” is the first thing she chitters at me when I proudly throw the reptile in her direction upon my return.
I am unsure whether she is serious or if it is a jest until I look up at her face and both of her small hands are clamped tight over her mouth. She almost looks a little… green.
“What happen?” I asked her, confused.
My species is known for its independence across both males and females. Even hatchlings separate from their parents to live with a flock as fledgelings and they are taught to hunt food on their own, even when sick.
The gift of a hunt is quite the gesture and a commonly advised mating dance among us. Red’s reaction to the food sends a message that she does not like it and as much as I wonder if pleasing her might be an impossibility, I still long for it.
Instead of saying a word, she just stares at me, her mouth opening and closing but neither song nor word escaping her lips.
I bow my head and turn around, deciding to continue the journey. “My regrets.”
I know that we are from different planets and very different species, but I do not think it is customary in any race to be intemperate to those who only mean you well.
Ree is of her kind and despite only just meeting me she was so much more...
I shake my head because I should not think like this. I just wish I could know why she has been so abrasive to me since our first meeting. I haven’t witnessed her with anyone else yet so I cannot tell if this is just because she dislikes me or if it is her general demeanor.
I don’t want to believe it is, because there was such a pleasant aura to her when she lay on my arm to sleep the night before and I want to see more of that Red.
I want to know who she can be when she is not building up walls to shut me out. Our journey continues in silence, with chittering from small rodents and the rustling of leaves being the only things heard around us.
Until Red quietly complains, once more, that she is too tired to keep moving.
I try to sound encouraging but I too feel exhausted. “We near. Keep close.”
Thankfully, my feet are not bleeding anymore but they still hurt from all the walking. I know that if I walk for long enough, the pain will be a thing of the past.
I just hope it is soon. Although her legs are clearly made for walking, they still aren’t as long as mine and our movement has been slow.
Red lets out a long whine about how hungry she is and the never ending distance we have had to travel and I turn to look at her. “Dark soon. Need find shelter.”
“We are close?” Her eyes start to widen with either fear or relief; I am not sure which.
I regret disappointing her and she groans again. I find it a little funny, almost endearing.
“We rest soon,” I promise and we continue on.
Soon it is early evening. I find us somewhere to rest and it is well hidden beneath some large, overgrown leaves that make some kind of shade. There are some dry leaves in the corner that I dust off and stack wide enough for Red and me.
It is not as cold and wet as the night before and I am grateful, not for myself but because Red will not be so cold.
Although I would prefer it if she slept close to me again, I know that I cannot ask for too much.
I settle down to sleep first and Red follows soon after.
I cup both sets of arms around her curled form and pull her close to me, for the first time doing what I feel. She lets out a hum of annoyance but I soon have her tucked against my side and embraced by the fluffy down feathers on the inside of my upper arms.
Her hum trails off and she nuzzles her face deeper into the down, commenting on how soft it is with a pleased warble. The action tickles me but the interaction between us is too precious for me to stop her odd movements.
Instead, I lie still until she sleeps, pull her even closer against me, and allow myself to drift off.