Page 81 of Citrine

All these things she's saying, it sounds more like it applies to her than it does to me. She's the one who needs someone constantly by her, listening to her never-ending words. She's the one afraid of no one else being there.

Why? Why is she so afraid? Because she's weak? It might be. Before she gained the gills to swim underwater, protecting her was even harder. I had to switch from land to water, risking drying my skin out. My body constantly felt sluggish and my tentacles felt like rocks I was dragging around.

Is that how she feels? No wonder she needs others.

Now that I can bring her into the water, it's much easier.

Except she might be a creature who cannot be left alone and the idea of never finding solace to let my mind rest sounds… terrible.

There are many like that who roam the oceans, many who die without the attention of another one in their species. Sure, their overwhelming numbers ensure their survival and accelerated breeding ensures they won't die out but separate one from the group and it dies.

She must be one of those, though I never thought a species capable of speech and reasoning would be among their number.It makes sense that she would develop such an obsession with this idea ofcommunity, though.

Separated from her kind, she craves to fill a missing presence in her existence with my presence. She constantly talks to me, even though I can't understand most of what she's saying. She's doing everything with reckless abandon just because I'm the only one she sees.

She won't let go of me because I'm the only one. Her idea ofcommunitydoes not matter to me, but to her, it is essential for her survival. What that all comes down to, in the end, is that her survival is dependent on me, and not just to hunt for her.

How did I get myself into this position?

I swim up as the sun sinks down on the horizon, finding its way out of the sky. As the dark approaches, I find her still by the corner of the shore, her gaze directed up. I push my tentacle in her direction to signal that I am back, and she turns in my direction.

"Did you have a good swim?"

She always asks such completely useless questions.

"It was good," I answer, surprising myself.

It was, actually, despite the fact I couldn't stray far or she might be in danger of a Many Teeth moving past my constantly established territory. It was quiet, just like I needed, but eventually I felt that pull back to her.

"That's nice. My skin feels like it's on fire. I've been itching since you left. I don't like this feeling, Wroahk."

I swim closer to her and see that she's scratching at her limbs ferociously. I hold her grasper to stop her and notice something else on her arm. I look in her eyes and see another emotion in them. Despair.

"When did this happen?" I point to the fins on her arm.

"I don't know. I didn't even feel it. I just looked down at the water and saw it. My body's been itching so much."

Her voice is trembling again. I wrap my tentacle around her and bring her down into the water, holding her close to me.

She clings to me, silently resting on my torso. She's quiet, which is just strange. She's almost never quiet.

"Are you hurt?" I ask quietly.

"… yes."

She doesn't say anything more, unnerving me. I thought I wouldn't miss the chatter, but I do. Her silence is unnatural, signaling pain that she is not allowed to feel. I don't want to admit that she's right, though, so I say nothing.

"I don't want to stay in the water tonight, Wroahk."

"Does your skin still itch in the water?"

"… no."

"You must stay here so you won't dry out."

"Why would I dry out, Wroahk? I'm aterrestrialspecies. I don't belong in the water. Why… why is this happening to me? Of all thebillionsofhumanson theplanet, why me?"

She is constantly making me feel like I know nothing. And there is… fear. Yes, she makes me afraid.

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