Page 40 of Citrine

I wonder what the yellow female will do if I try to mate with her.

The smoothness of her body does not compare to the sturdiness of the females of my species. Besides, she looks nothing like them, so it would be quite the challenge to find where to insert myself.

No. I hate her.

Looking at her fills me with disgust. Something about her is just wrong. She's too weak to resist me, the sure sign of a female who should never be allowed to breed.

She has no weapons to fight back. Her appendages are weak attachments that snap easily.

The thought is interesting, though. What would it feel like to mate with someone without the other person trying to rip off my head? To experience the pleasure that builds up in my mating tentacles as I release without having to protect my body?

The thoughts splash around my head as I go back to watching her. She seems to have found something to eat, nibbling on a few weeds. It hardly makes any sense, and I want nothing more than to shove something better down her throat.

However, I'm stopping myself, which is something I've never done before. It makes me feel strange, as if I've lost the very last part of me I could cling to after being taken.

Watching her does me no good, and it only makes me hungrier. She's injured and weak. I doubt just eating leaves will make her recover faster. My limbs itch with the desire to hunt for her, but I already said I wouldn't.

It would be a waste of prey, not to mention an insult to both of us.

She picks up more leaves, munching on them without regard. She shows no interest in the creatures buzzing around her or the ones soaring in the skies above her. Even if I consider them not-food, they might be enough to sustain her small form.

This weird female eats like a bottom feeder, never bothering to hunt for itself or leave its territory to find better food. She looks nothing like a bottom feeder, but perhaps that's why her teeth are so polished.

Does she really have no strength or will to fight back?

That makes her even worse than a bottom feeder. At least they can regrow their limbs or protect themselves against predators. All she knows how to do is attract predators to herself and steal my voice and senses.

The only thing I can praise about her is her resilience. She clings on so fiercely to survival. It's almost… something. I don't know a word for it, but my mind keeps working at it.

20

Eli

I try to put my nonexistent foraging skills to the test.

A purple striped insect passes by me, looking a lot like a bee with no stinger. I decide to call it a purbee, which makes me smile, and then follow it, hoping it is as harmless as the name I gave it.

"Hello, little one," I croon to it to stave off the loneliness.

How long has it been since I talked to a human? Oh, right, it was those cops. Gross. The last enjoyable conversation? Then I remember it was Ms. Janis and my eyes well up with tears.

I should have taken that date with her grandson, lived a little. Learned to trust someone enough to let my mask slip. Now all I have is this crushing isolation.

I shake my head, focusing back on the purbee.

Where there are bees, there's pollen. Where there's pollen, there are flowers and fruits. It's basic biology and I am going to follow it. The purbee's path is straightforward, and I ramble along behind, finding a bunch of flowering trees. Thankfully, they're not high up or huge.

They look climbable, but I'm not exactly healed enough for that, though maybe by tomorrow.

Dang, that is still such a weird thought.

The bird-like creatures have picked off every good fruit, but the flowers being pollinated by the bees are still intact. The leaves look like they're being eaten by some other insects, my sign that it's probably edible. I have no other choice but to believe that.

It's either that or starving to death after finally finding a way to survive.

I start foraging, picking up some relatively intact leaves and flowers. The purbees are quite persistent, but I manage to pluck some flowers and remain grateful that they don't have stingers.

I wonder if I can find their hive for some honey as I search for fruit that the birds haven't decimated. There's only one or two, but it's enough for a trip when I have two working arms to climb.

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