Chapter Four Krish
It is difficult to discern much over the stench of the Lianov creature’s blood and organs, but this newest creature seems to carry a different scent than others we have encountered.
I open my mouth and extend my tongue as I take a deep inhale, and then I am sure of it.
This one has a different scent, though what is different about it I cannot say.
“Do you scent that?” I ask softly. The Alek creature moans softly in my arms, and I glance down to ensure that he is still breathing.
His eyes flutter open and he sucks in a rapid inhale of breath.
Words spew from his mouth, and I glance to Zann for a translation.
Zann frowns and exchanges words with the creature for a moment.
I go to set him on his feet, but Alek glances around at me then promptly collapses again.
“What is wrong with him?” I ask Zann, catching Alek before he hits the ground.
“I do not know. I have not seen him do this before now. Do you think these new creatures have harmed him in some way?” Zann muses.
I glance down at the creature in my arms. “He does not appear to be injured. He did not tell you anything?” I ask.
“Only mumbling. Something about his god perhaps,” Zann replies.
I narrow my eyes and hiss at the new creature. It says something, and I glance at Zann hopefully. He shakes his head. “I do not understand it,” he says. “Maybe the translation chip has failed.”
The new creature speaks again. It stands slowly and points to a corner of the room. It gestures at me, and I tilt my head to look at it. It gestures again, and I realize it is imitating carrying something and laying it on the floor. “I think it wants me to give up the Alek.”
“No,” Davix signs angrily. The new creature points at the corner again, then at the table where it was sitting. It stretches out its arms and then moves towards the table.
“I think it is saying that if I put the Alek in that corner, it will be far away from him,” I say. I watch as it lays its head on the table and closes its eyes, then slowly sits up again. “Maybe if the Alek is sick, being laid on the floor will help?”
“What if they are why Alek is sick?” Davix signs, but Zann grabs his hands gently.
“We don’t know if that is what happened. But if we lay him down where the creature is pointing, we will be far closer to Alek than it will be.” Zann argues. “And so far they have not been hostile to us.”
“Not yet,” Davix signs.
“Not yet,” Zann agrees. “But for now it wouldn’t hurt Alek to lay him down. And it would leave Krish’s arms free if we are attacked.”
I nod in agreement, though I do not think that they will attack. If they were planning to do so, it doesn’t seem like they would have waited. Slowly and carefully, I move towards the corner and lay Alek down, then slide back behind my brood brothers.
The other new creature – the one still wearing the outer and head covering – moves towards the door.
A group of creatures in similar but slightly different coverings is standing there.
They begin to move into the room slowly, but the new creature says something and they stop.
The lead creature, as it is now clear that it is the leader, stands up and speaks some more before taking a crate from one of the other creatures.
It takes a few steps towards the center of the room with the crate, still moving slowly and deliberately.
It reminds me vaguely of a predator stalking a cornered animal, and I can’t control the growl that escapes my lips.
One of the other creatures says something loudly, but the leader creature responds in a low voice.
It sets the crate on the floor, sits down next to it, and pulls something out.
I recognize it as a water container. Alek would sometimes sneak one or two to us.
It was a welcome alternative to the bowls of foul water that were sometimes slid into our cage as if we were no more than the beasts we tended.
The lead creature holds the container up and pours some of the liquid into its mouth before setting the container on the floor.
It reaches into the crate again and pulls out a round, brownish object the size of its fist. It pulls a piece of it off and puts it in its mouth and chews for a moment before swallowing and putting the object back in the crate.
It repeats the process once more with a pale yellow block of some kind.
I growl, wondering what trick it is playing.
The Lianov creature would sometimes eat its meals outside the bars of our cage, gorging itself as we slowly starved and tormenting us with the sight and smells of food.
The small lines of fur on the leader creature’s face move upwards, and someone says something, but it shakes its head. It stands slowly, moves back to its table, and sits. It points at the crate, then at us. And then it waits.
“Do you think it is safe?” I ask. We have all been watching the creature intently. It says something, and the rest of the creatures move around clumsily before sitting on the floor or in the hallway.
“I think so,” Zann replies. “I think it is trying to show us that it, that they, are not going to attack us.”
“Could be a trap,” Davix signs, frowning.
“I do not think it is a trap,” I say. I glance at the corner where Alek is to see his eyes blinking slowly. He lets out a low moan but does not move.
“I will go first,” Zann says, standing up from his crouched position.
A few of the creatures flinch as he rises to his full height and stalks towards the crate in the middle of the floor.
He picks up the water container and puts it to his lips, swallowing greedily.
A moment later, he pulls it from his mouth.
“It tastes clean,” he calls. He reaches into the crate and pulls out another container of water.
He takes a sip from it and then tosses it to Davix.
Another container is procured and tested and tossed to me.
When the first clear, fresh drops hit my mouth, I have to struggle not to drain the whole container at once.
I feel like I could drink a dozen of these before my thirst is slaked.
Zann takes bites of the brown and yellow objects before tossing them to us.
The brown object tastes similar to the grain cakes the brood mothers taught us to cook on fire-heated rocks.
The yellow brick is salty and creamy, reminiscent of the milk from the docile kouna that some of our people keep.
Davix and I devour them both quickly as Zann drags the crate towards us.
It leaves a trail through the blood, but Zann doesn’t seem to notice or care.
He pulls out a hunk of raw meat and takes a couple of large bites.
He grabs a different brown object, this one a flat triangular shape, and a large oblong object that is shiny and purple.
He hands over the meat and then takes a bite of the brown object.
He glances at it in surprise and then takes another bite.
Zann tastes the purple object last, quickly spitting it out and tossing it to the side.
“Bitter and hard,” he declares, frowning at it.
“But this one is sweet,” he says waving the other object at us.