Page 51 of Citrine

Lost in the mist, struggling dearly to get back up. Nightmares are always mirrors of reality.

Feeling more stable on my feet, I head to where I found the plants the last time, hoping to find more intact fruits. The purbees seem to hold a grudge because they try to prevent me from taking more of their flowers, but they don't have stingers, so all they are is a bunch of pestering flies.

I take my haul back with one hand and sit by my tree.

I finally get the chance to calmly eat, this time filling my stomach.

As the sugary scent of the fruit fades, I wonder why I don't stink by now. I've been there for a few days. I should smell like something died. Maybe even worse, since I haven't taken a dip in the water.

Thinking of the water, I feel thirsty. I head out of the cove, walking toward the water, and I immediately feel his gaze on me. He's always watching, always waiting. I wonder if he even sleeps at all.

Ignoring him, I bend by the water and take a scoop, using my hand to drink it. I have the same logic for everything. If the food didn't kill me, I doubt the water can.

I seem to have a hyperactive immune system since I was taken. I don't know whether to be grateful or terrified.

I look at my arm. Okay, definitely grateful.

With my belly full, I call out to Wroahk. He comes almost immediately.

"Are you in pain?"

I realize he almost looks… friendly. Almost. Or at least not menacing, because his face is really just an expressionless mask. For him, friendly. In a mean, scary shark with sharp teeth and tentacles ready to crush you sort of way.

"The pain is gone now that your smiling face is here before me."

He's definitely not smiling, and doesn't even bother asking what the word means. I'm pretty sure his face can't do it, anyway. It doesn't deter me, though. He's the only one here, and after that nightmare, I need his company.

"The weather here is nice, but the nights are cold."

I continue rambling about the weather and something about global warming when my brain reminds me I shouldn't talk too much. He'll leave. Just like everyone else I chatter out of my life.

However, the world around me is still scary, and this is the only way I can soothe myself. My mouth just refuses to stop dropping words.

I used to be a quiet child, but during my adolescence, I started rambling. I don't know if it was because of rebellion or just a natural progression of my character, but it's compulsive now. That thought reminds me I can control anything I want, and I take a deep breath and just look out over the water.

It gets me talking about the refraction of light on water, and I just keep at it even when half of my words don't translate.

I'm talking more to myself, I know. When I was younger, my father used to tell me facts and sometimes, when we are both exhausted by the weary worries of the world, we'd sit on the porch and just watch the stars, imagining we could fly in the constellations.

I'm among the stars, padre. Just like we dreamed. It's just… nothing is ever the same without the people you love.

25

Eli

My arm feels surprisingly good as it swings along my side as I move to the lake shore.

Wroahk is there and I start chattering to him about how nice it is this morning, but I can tell he isn't listening.

I'm mid-sentence sharing what I've observed of purbee flight patterns and communication methods when he interrupts me.

"You have this strange idea about adults living and working together. How do you know people are better together? What if they're just weaker together?"

My mouth drops open in shock, before looking closer at his face. "You rarely ask me a question without looking like you're going to tear my head off. I like this change. Why do you ask?"

"Separation is the way my people have survived for a long time," he tells me.

I think back to what other things he has said. "So, you band together so your entire species doesn't die, but you kill the weak?"