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    Cia
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Ancalagon - 12. Chapter 12

“His mouth was open the whole way here, showing off his flat teeth and that thick, pink tongue of his.”

What? No wonder my mouth was so dry! And my tongue wasn’t thick or my teeth flat. Well, the ones in back were, but my teeth were normal. I glared at him, ready to tell him off with a vicious glare and snarl but then the clear cup of fluid waved in front of my face distracted me.

My arms were too heavy to lift and hold it. The glare dissolved off my face, and I nearly cried. Water, right there, and I couldn’t take it.

“Shh, I’ll help you.” The cup was held to my lips, and I was drowning. Water filled my mouth, and I swallowed as fast as I could, but it overflowed and went up my nose and down my chin. I gasped—at exactly the wrong moment—and choked on the water I inhaled. I violently coughed, spluttering on the water that just kept coming.

“What are you doing? Trying to kill him? Be more careful. Sips. His kind drink slowly.”

“Like the elderly?” Four Arms scrunched his face. “He doesn’t seem old.”

The other one tutted. “He is not. His physiology is different. Remember that thick tongue? They use that to move chewed food and drink to the back of their mouth and then swallow.”

“Truly?” His shock was clear.

Those sharp teeth and this discussion was not reassuring me as to their non-predator nature. Animals who swallowed their food whole were often dangerous. And the few alien species I knew who could do that weren’t so picky about the meat they consumed; it just had to fit.

I eyed his mouth as I coughed, curling in on myself. Even if his jaw unhinged, I was too big to swallow whole. I had to hope the fact they were taking care of me meant they weren’t going to lop off any pieces to eat either.

Dragging in a rasping breath, the coughing finally started to ease. This time when Four Arms gave me the cup, I tried to hold it with him to control the tilt. He let me but supported the weight.

Sometimes I hated knowing so much about predators. I was feeling very much like prey. Even without the extra limbs, these aliens dwarfed me. When I’d tried to stand up to Four Arms when he’d shot Bouncer, my eyes had been level with his mid-chest, and he probably was twice as wide as I was.

“Bouncer,” I gasped. If I’d woken up, had he? I looked around the room, dodging the cup of water. “Where is he?” I struggled.

“Stop before you hurt yourself,” Four Arms insisted. “It’s fine.”

“What is?”

“The beast I brought on board.”

“The cerops is unharmed.” I stilled when the other alien shared that. “Garjah stunned it into stasis, but unlike you, it has stayed that way.”

“How do you know?” I narrowed my eyes and tightened my grip on the cup of water, still not drinking, though my throat burned as I spoke.

“If it had, I would have been called to sedate it. I am the biological expert on this ship. The cerops is in the hold because Garjah’s report stated it imprinted on you. Separating you would not be wise.”

“I fed him.” I stressed him, tired of them calling Bouncer an it. “That’s all.” My voice cut out on all and I choked, coughing again. Four Arms—or Garjah, I guess his name was—urged me to drink more water. I was thirsty, so I didn’t resist the cup pressing against my mouth.

“Cerops would rather eat you,” the one I still had no name for said. “And their claws have a poison from a gland between the toes they can use to immobilize their prey.”

“I had my suit.” The one they totally disdained. “He couldn’t bite or scratch me.” Not that he’d tried very hard. And even though he was bigger and older than most of the animals I’d nurtured over the years, I hadn’t had much qualms about feeding him. He needed food, and I’d given him what he wanted.

But a bond with an animal?

“I’m a biologist. I live on Fleet ships. I can’t have an animal bonded to me.” I blinked and tried to hold in a yawn. Not to mention Ardra was a heavy planet. Bouncer was adapted for that environment. Clearly these aliens were as well, with their heavy bodies and the pressure weighing me down even on their ship.

My lighter physique was doing me no favors. I was exhausted just trying to not slump in Garjah’s arms and drink water from a cup that he was holding.

“That is not something to worry about now.” The second Four Arms waved back at the bed. “Put him down, Garjah. He needs to rest.”

Garjah’s arms tightened around me, but then he stepped back up to the uncomfortable table. I protested the hard surface, but the darkness rapidly overtaking me kept me from asking for a softer place to sleep.

 

The next time I woke, I was no longer in the medical room on the table. This time I appeared to be in a bunk and webbing was strapped around me. I thrashed, pushing at the heavy straps.

“Stop!” The door slid open and Garjah stomped into the room.

I stilled, panting. “Why am I tied up?”

“You were strapped down for planetary flight.”

Gaping at him, I lost the ability to think, to speak for a second. “Flight? Where are you taking me?” I blurted. Away from my ship? From rescue by the Fleet? I wasn’t aware that the thought was even in my head, but these aliens clearly knew about us even if we didn’t know about them.

And if we didn’t know about them, why were they hiding? Would they take me away to keep their secret?

Copyright © 2020 Cia; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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