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He reached up and touched his shoulder, but there wasn’t so much as a sore spot.
“But–but I don’t have a bite,” he said, at a loss.
“Exchanges always heal.”
That made even less sense. “I don’t–I don’t understand. What’s that mean, the exchange?” Will asked even as his voice trembled. There was panic and excitement and fear all ballooning up inside him.
The creature tilted its head. “You know?”
“I don’t know,” Will said, and felt something like hysterical laughter in the back of his throat. “We don’t–we can’t just bite each other and know their language.”
“Oh,” the creature said. “Fluid and feeling, that is how we share. Is that why you ran?”
“Yeah, it–it hurt. And it scared me. I thought you were–were going to kill me.”
It stared at him. “No. I needed your language, so we could speak. I apologize; I did not know that you would not understand.”
Will rocked back on his heels, stunned by the revelation. “So… you bit me, and now we can speak?”
“Yes. Does your shoulder still hurt? It should have healed.”
“No, I–I mean, yeah, it healed.” Will took a deep breath. He felt shaky, light-headed. This was a lot. “I can’t believe you’re real. You… what are you?”
“I am Itori,” the creature said, gesturing to itself.
“Itori?” The word had come heavily accented, like it was a word not native to English. “Is that your name or your species?”
“It is what your people call me. Us. My name.”
That wasn’t any clearer, but Will decided not to badger it. Itori had gained language, but the cultural gap would still exist.
“I’m Will,” Will said, and copied the gesture, to indicate himself.
“Will,” Itori repeated. “Named for the Willowtree?”
He asked it with his thick accent. Will had never heard his name sound so nice.
“I have hurt?” Itori asked, taking a tentative step back.
Will realized he was smiling. Baring his teeth. “No! No,” he said quickly, hiding away his teeth. Then, tentatively, he smiled again so he could point it out. “This is a human thing. It’s called smiling. It means happy and good.”
Itori looked over his face carefully. “Humans show teeth when angry too?”
Will supposed that was true. “Yeah. Human expressions are kind of complicated. But I’m not upset. I’m happy.”
“I am happy,” Itori said. “Your people are never happy to see me. Some are cruel.” Itori turned to gesture at the half-sunk machines.
“You–” Will started, and was cut off when Itori hissed, his bad leg starting to give out.
“I must sit,” Itori declared, and sank down onto the flooded asphalt.
“Oh, here, I’ll sit too,” Will said and took a seat beside him at a respectful distance. The water flowed over his lap, ice cold, and he repressed a shiver. “How’s… your leg?”
Itori offered it easily, his long-muscled limb sliding onto Will’s lap. Will blinked in shock at how easily the man trusted him.
“Better,” Itori said, “you see?”
Will swallowed hard. He was seeing. He was seeing a long, muscled leg on his lap. A huge swath of bare scales that led up to–
