Page 20 of Citrine

My hands are shaking as I get myself upright again and look around for something to defend myself. Anything.

A sharp rock catches my eye and I grab it, holding it tight to my chest, surprised when my suit shifts and I look down to see a new pocket for it.

I let out a snort, then imagine it in a better location for my makeshift knife.

Have I escaped unscathed, or was this just the calm before the storm? Only time will tell, but one thing is certain—I'm in far deeper trouble than I ever imagined.

9

Wroahk

What just happened?

I sit on the edge of the lake, my mind swirling with frustration, and I can't shake the feeling of unease that's settled over me because of an encounter with a harmless creature. I heave, bile at the back of my throat, as I remember my attraction. My fascination.

She is food.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of thoughts raging in my mind. As I glance toward the other side of the shore where I left her, I notice that dusk has begun to settle in, painting the sky with streaks of orange and pink. The stars twinkle overhead, casting their soft glow upon the land.

"What did she do to me?"

The air is filled with the hum of not-food, their chirps and buzzes creating a cacophony of sound.

I watch as she sits on the edge of the lake on a stone, one lower limb dangling off a rock and the other pulled up close to her.

She has a yellow hunk of the long weeds from her head in her graspers, separated from her body now. I'm puzzled for a moment, then I realize she's using it to wrap her injured limb.

Even though she's within my gaze, mere moments away, I know she can't see me. I've hidden myself behind a prickly dry plant, keeping a safe distance between us.

It's ridiculous.

Here I am, the predator who rules this place, reduced to hiding like a coward, but I had no choice.

I had to distance myself from her before I did something I would regret. Like touch her, and not as a precursor to violence. Why would I want to do that?

Twice now, I've been on the verge of killing her, yet something held me back. I don't even have words to describe the feelings in my chest. There's a nagging sensation in the pit of my stomach that tells me I made the right choice, but everything else in me is screaming at how wrong it is.

I close my eyes and try to push away the memories of her exposed body, the way her light brown curves glistened in the sunset. It's infuriating how she's managed to intrude on my thoughts.

But why? Why does she affect me at all?

I've encountered countless creatures in my lifetime, but none have ever stirred anything within me, aside from brief, violent encounters during mating season.

Everything else is food.

With a frustrated growl, I push myself up and move along the edge of the lake. I need to clear my gills. Distance myself from her disgusting presence.

She is like a haunting cry, rippling through the water and resounding over and over in my head.

What am I doing? I'm allowing myself to be consumed by thoughts of her when I should be the one killing her.

With a determined scowl, I force myself to focus on the present. There are other matters to attend to, other creatures to hunt and conquer. I can't afford to be distracted by her any longer.

Still, I can't tear my eyes away from her as I watch not-food lighting up around her, casting a warm, golden glow upon her face. The flickering light illuminates her features, highlighting the curve of her cheeks and the softness of her lips.

"Her teeth," I mutter to myself, my voice barely a whisper, but still echoing my disdain. "So polished, so blunt."

As I continue to watch her, a fresh wave of disgust washes over me, mingling with this terrible inability to look away. I can't believe I'm even entertaining such thoughts about her.

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