Page 68 of Citrine

"Why wouldn't I be?! For all I know, the sky's about to split open!"

"Why would the sky split open? It is simply a storm."

"Gaaah! Why are you so frustrating?"

The sky flashes again, sending a boom down to the ground. She jumps on me this time, holding tightly to my sides like quivering prey. My tentacles wrap around her this time, holding her close.

"Will you come with me into the water?" I ask again, even though she's secure in my arms.

I can't just take her. I have to haveconsent.

"Are you sure? I'm afraid of deep water."

I don't bother trying to make sense of something so stupid, though it occurs to me that she must fear water like I fear the open air.

She'll have to let it go if she plans to keep stealing parts of me.

"I'll be beside you. What could frighten you when you're with me? I'm going to keep holding on to you."

And I'll never let go. Herkindtouch will always be mine.

33

Eli

Wroahk's rough and unkind, but at least he solved the mystery of the new bumps and long flaps. Every single move I make, I feel myself gasping for air through my sides.

We move toward the water, the storm building around us, and my panic rises.

How does this make sense? How can I just grow gills? I wake on an alien planet looking so strange and now this?

I'm now more alien than the giant tentacle monster. Alright, fine, that's hyperbole, but it's not like I could blend in anymore if I get back home.

Maybe it's the plants I ate. I only mutated after eating them, after all. Oh, I knew there had to be a catch. I mean, I've been ingesting alien lifeforms for a few days. It was bound to catch up to me.

But what is it? What exactly is this mutation?

Maybe it's something in the air. The only reason I'll ever need gills is to breathe. I groan. It burns so bad, each breath making it worse. It's like I'm trying to smell through my clothes.

If I make the suit recede and don't picture what I want correctly, I might be naked in front of him again. It's already strange enough that I tried to jump his bones yesterday.

Not that he seems to have many of those.

"Are you hurt?" he asks me.

There's concern at the corner of his eyes. Why? Why does he care? Because I touch him kindly? Because I'm the only other intelligent being here? Why does he want to keep me alive?

"Yes, it hurts," I grumble out. "I didn't want your stupid gills."

"You look less pathetic this way. Less pathetic means you're less likely to be abandoned," he responds, his voice cold.

"Abandoned?"

He looks me in the eye, his words unflinching.

"The weak and useless are always cast away, including those who cannot breathe underwater when they are born."

"What? You just abandon your young?"

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