My feelers blinked in confirmation. It hung in the air, dense as honey.
“Zat’tor and I are making sure all the humans stay indoors until the storm passes,” Linn’ar said. “Please tell Assistant 23 he should not go outside.”
“Thank you. I will.”
I would have kept Assistant 23 safe no matter what, but I appreciated the input from my Maeleon sibling. It was comforting to know that others cared for him, too.
“Oh, Linn’ar, there you are.”
The voice belonged to Jaeyoung, the human doctor. He carried young Kii’ran in one arm, and a basket of fruit in the other. The Maeleon youngling, deep pink and light blue, blinked curiously at me. I smiled back.
“Here, Farr’vye,” Jaeyoung said, offering me the basket.
It was brimming with ripe fruit and a package of human food calledtteokbokki, a meal consisting of chewy flour tubes glazed in spicy sauce. I accepted it graciously.
“I thought humans were staying indoors today,” I teased.
“Aside from Assistant 23, I’m the only one with a functioning brain,” Jaeyoung said, deadpan but with a hint of humor. “Anyway, we’re going home after this. We just wanted to make sure you two were warned and fed.”
“Are we a known pair now?” I asked, amused.
“Well, you’ve been glued at the hip for a couple days now, so yes, pretty much.”
After saying goodbye and wishing each other well for the storm, I headed back inside. Assistant 23 was freshly awake. His legs were curled beneath him on the blanket, and he rubbed his eyes sleepily.
“I heard voices,” he mumbled. “Was that Jaeyoung and Linn’ar?”
“Yes. They came to drop off food and warn us about the storm.”
Immediately, Assistant 23’s eyes widened in fear. “A storm?”
I wondered if he could not feel the pressure and humidity in the air.
“Do not worry,” I said. “We are safe indoors.”
But he didn’t look appeased. As the seconds passed, a shadow fell across his face, darker than the clouds outside.
“Okay,” he said, not sounding like he believed me.
Something was wrong. He was not telling me the truth. I sat beside him and put an arm around his frail shoulders.
“Tell me your thoughts,” I encouraged.
He glanced up with bleak green eyes. Fear lurked within them. Was he nervous about the incoming storm?
“You are safe with me,” I said, stroking his face. “Never forget this.”
The fear in his expression wavered. He leaned into my touch, closed his eyes, and sighed.
“I know,” he murmured. “Sorry. I’ll try not to freak out.” He forced a smile, then asked, “What kind of food did they bring?”
Hunger was a good sign. If he was curious about food, it meant anxiety did not have a tight grip on his stomach.
I showed him the basket. “Shall I feed you?”
His eyes lit up. “Sure.”
I picked out the fruit he had eyed, a small yellow one with dry flesh, and offered it to him between my claws. He took a tentative bite, then a few more until he was satisfied.
