It’s clear to me that he’s been alone for a long, long time. And because of that, I’m starting to understand him a bit more, and why he reacts the way he does. He carried me off and tied me up because he doesn’t want me to leave. Whether that’s the cootie and the resonance or if it’s simple loneliness, it doesn’t matter.
I can’t change things. I can’t make my khui stop vibrating when he’s around. I can’t turn back time and bring Kira, Aehako, and Haeden back to life. I’m here with Rukh, and I’m going to make the best of things.
And that means some changes. It means I start making the cave into a home. It means teaching him more language so we can talk. It means bedding and more clothing and figuring out how to store food and so many things that my head spins. A tiny part of me wants to go back to the elders’ cave and get Rukh lasered so we can talk, but I think about Aehako and Haeden’s dead bodies just outside. I can’t go back. We’ll just do things the hard way.
But first…I have to figure out how to slow down my cootie. It’s been a few days since I started to resonate to Rukh. I’m not unattracted to him – well, provided that under the layers of grime and the tumbleweed of hair, there’s a normal alien guy under there. But I’m not sure I’m ready to jump right into making a family. The cootie, of course, has other ideas; the longer we spend fighting our urges, the more powerful it makes them. Already this morning I feel a bit more aroused and sensitive than before. Last night’s heavy petting felt good. Really good. We’ll have to continue that, I decide.
Of course, while Rukh is out finding something to eat for breakfast, I make a fire and masturbate quietly. I give myself a quick bath with some melted snow, I have the fire roaring, and I’ve even cleaned off the dried cum on the corner of my skirt from last night.
Rukh returns, carrying an entire dvisti over his shoulders. He throws it down near the fire and then looks at me for approval.
I clap my hands, excited. “That is awesome! Thank you, Rukh!” Dvisti are furry and shaggy and will make a small but warm blanket.
He bares his teeth at me, imitating my grin. Then he moves to the creature to start carving it up.
I stop him, because if it’s anything like yesterday’s butcher-fest, there’s not going to be a skin left to treat. “No! Wait!”
“No?” Rukh frowns and looks up at me.
Through gesturing and a lot of demonstrating of my clothing, I get him to understand that I want the hide. I sit down next to him, and over the next hour, we figure out how to skin the creature. We’re both bloody and smelly by the time we eat, but I’m pleased because I have a big, mostly-whole skin to work on. I don’t know what I’m going to stretch it over yet, but I’ll figure something out.
Instead of tossing the extra meat, I spit it over the fire on a few of the longer bones and smoke it. Rukh watches me, and then offers his waterskin.
I smile at him and take a sip. I’m tired and I feel like the day’s just begun. There’s so much to do, I’m overwhelmed with it.
“Fire,” Rukh says, pointing at my fire. Then he points at me. “Har-loh.” Then he points at the skin.
“Water,” I tell him. I pour a little onto my hand and wash my fingertips. “Water.”
“Water,” he repeats.
It’s progress, and I smile broadly at him. We can do this. We just have to learn what the other wants.
? ? ?
A week later
I sniff my armpit and wince. “That is a not so fresh scent.”
“Repeat?” Rukh says from across the cave as he scrapes a fresh hide.
I wave him off. “Just talking to myself.” I’ve taught him the word ‘repeat’ so he can ask me to restate things, but I’m not going to go into explicit detail about how smelly I am. Not when he’s not exactly a fragrant blossom himself.
It’s been a long week. I make another chalk notch on the wall, just because I like counting the days. 7 sunrises and sunsets of back-breaking work. 7 days of skinning, smoking meat, weaving baskets, and whatever other chores I can possibly think of. Seven days of curing hides with their own brains, seven days of sweaty, bloody, gross work and not a single bathtub in sight. I enviously think of the big heated pool in the center of the tribal cave. I’ll never see that again, and right now, something like that sounds pretty damn nice.
Rukh doesn’t seem to mind my smell, but, well, he’s Rukh. I don’t know if he’s ever had a bath, so of course he doesn’t mind if I stink. The sad thing is? I’m getting used to his smell thanks to the close quarters. At night, he comes and lies down beside me and I happily cling to him, dirty skin and all, because he’s as warm as a furnace.