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Skarr’s not shy, of course. He flicks his cloak back with a flamboyant gesture and leans in, all show, like he’s the prince of the beach deigning to speak to one of his subjects. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
I shake my head, even as my stomach growls loudly.
He narrows his eyes at me.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I stare back at him. How do I get him to understand that I want nothing more than to retreat from the crowd? That getting up and demanding food and drink from the laughing, merry group is beyond my capability at the moment? I freeze the moment a stranger even looks in my direction.
He grunts and gets to his feet again. “Stay here.”
As if I have anywhere else to go? If I did, I would be there already.
I watch, tensing inwardly as he moves to the fire and gets food and drink. Knowing Skarr, he could just as easily snag it for himself and then eat it in front of me with a scowl, daring me to get my own. That would absolutely be on-brand for him.
He doesn’t, though. He returns to my side, cutting through the group, and then sits next to me again, balancing the dish on his knee and indicating we should share. “Lucky for you that I am a wildly generous male,” he says. In his other hand, he holds up a skin. “I brought drink, too. They call it sah-sah.”
“Thanks.” I want to be sour at his back-patting but I’m just relieved that he’s sharing with me without forcing me to go and get my own. I pluck something that looks like a rib out of the dish and nibble on the meat. It’s so tender it falls off the bone and flavored with herbs that are both pungent and appealing at the same time. I devour it in a few quick bites and then put the bone back in the dish, reaching for a long, skinny tuber. It tastes a bit like a boiled potato, and I nibble on it, watching Skarr as I do.
He’s not eating. He’s watching me eat and holding the plate for me. I swallow the mouthful I’m on and put a hand to my mouth to cover for crumbs. “Are—are you not eating?”
“I want to make sure you’re full first. What kind of mate would I be if I ate all your food?”
Oh. I should probably point out that him getting me food doesn’t mean we’re mates now. That it doesn’t mean anything at all. But I’m exhausted and overwhelmed, and right now Skarr is what’s familiar. So I don’t say anything at all, I just keep eating.
He leans in close as I take another rib. His voice drops low. “How is your finger?”
“Better today,” I admit, flexing it a little. I’ve still got it bound to my ring finger but it doesn’t throb and ache like it did yesterday. How long do fingers take to heal? I genuinely don’t know.
“And yet you retreat from everyone?”
The reproach in his voice makes me shrink down into myself again. “It’s just…kind of overwhelming. First this planet, and then the clone thing, and now this.” Everywhere I look, there are people. There are humans wearing leathers and carrying half-alien babies, and alien men of all different shades of blues and even a few red. The beach looks as forbidding as the mountains, and the waves crash against the shore like they have a personal vendetta. Nothing about this seems inviting or homey.
We were told the camp on the beach was sheltered. Safer. This doesn’t feel safe. It looks like a primitive camp on the unfriendliest ocean ever. I don’t know what I was expecting but…not quite this.
It’s a lot to take in.
Skarr grunts, eyeing the group. He offers the waterskin to me. “Drink this. It will make you feel better.”
I take a cautious sip of the drink. It tastes like juice with a bit of a tangy kick, though I can’t tell what fruit it reminds me of. It’s good, though, and I take a bigger sip as I eat another tuber. Skarr’s still watching me, and I feel the need to explain. “I just need time to get used to everything. It’s all different than what I’m used to.”
He huffs. “Don’t I know it. Out of all these people, not a single one wants to spar. It’s downright baffling.”
His indignation strikes me as funny. I giggle around a mouthful of potato-tuber and wash it down with a sip of juice, then offer the skin to him. “You do know that fighting isn’t everything, right?”
Skarr takes a big swig of the drink, gives it a look of appreciation, and then downs another hearty gulp. He offers it back to me, and I drink a bit more, just so he won’t hog it all. “For you, it is not,” he says. “But for me, fighting is all I know.”
“Then you’re in the same situation I am,” I tell him. “Now we both have to learn how to live here. Now we’re both starting from scratch.”
He grunts, sounding as displeased as I feel.
I nudge the plate toward him as I take another rib. “Eat some. There’s plenty for both of us.”
He grins at me and leans in and takes a bite from the potato I hold in my hand. It’s a very lover-y thing to do, and I should get mad, but he grins like a mischievous child and all I can do is giggle at how ridiculous he is.
“Eat your own,” I clarify, but I’m smiling. I’m also feeling pretty good. Pretty loose. Some of my anxiety is wearing away from being around the others. I’m sure people are watching me and Skarr but I can’t find it in me to care too much. I bet the sah-sah has alcohol in it. I’ve also had enough that I no longer care, and I take another drink.
Skarr tries to take another bite of my potato, but I hand the whole thing to him and take the skin instead, drinking more of the wonderful juice. He seems to be having a great time, but then again, when is he not? He always looks eager to take on the world. I envy that. “How is it that you’re not upset?”
“Upset about what?”
