“Selene?” His voice pulls me from my thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.” He ducks his head. “For letting me join you. For sharing your stories. I don’t… I don’t often get to do things like this.”
“Things like what?”
“Things that are just…” He gestures at the pumpkins, the mess, the room full of laughing guests. “Fun.”
The word sounds almost foreign coming from him, like he’s testing it out for the first time.
You and me both, buddy, I think to myself.
“There’s something I wanted to ask you, if that’s okay,” he says, hesitancy creeping into his voice.
“Shoot,” I tell him.
“Does that mean I can ask?” he says.
“Yeah.”
“Well, the thing is, I was hoping...”
But before he can say more, Elana’s voice rings out across the room. “Alright everyone! Time to show the group your creations!”
Chatter fills the space as guests begin lifting their finished pumpkins, turning them to face the center of the tables. To my left, a Drakoon guest has carved an intricate snout into their pumpkin, complete with carved scales and fearsome teeth protruding from the mouth. Beyond them, a Nakar has somehow carved into the skin of their pumpkin to form a coiled serpent, multiple eyes gleaming in the hollow shell.
Row after row of terrifying creations. Monsters and demons and creatures from nightmares.
Damn. This was supposed to be a beginner class. These aliens with claws and extra appendages make it look easy to create masterpieces.
My own creation? He’s a bit misshapen, a streak of purple running across his flesh sideways, contrasting nicely with the yellow. His eyes are lopsided, one definitely smaller than the other. And maybe he’s got three teeth because I accidentally cut the fourth clean off when I was trying to carve it.
He’s great. Who cares if he doesn’t look as good as theirs? I’m not some alien out trying to impress the others in the room. I did this for myself. He’s my pumpkin and I had fun making him and right now that’s all that matters.
Khatak lifts his pumpkin reverently, turning it to face towards the crowd.
Someone snorts. Then another.
My breath catches. Are they laughing?
I look down at Khatak’s pumpkin—a simple, slightly crooked face with a wide smile. Not scary at all, really. Just… happy.
“Are your claws that dull, or are you that incapable of a simple carving? You could have at least included scales,” the Drakoon guest asks, barely suppressing a laugh. He waves a hand to encompass himself, all the while pointedly looking at me. “After all, a truly fearsome male has scales and wings.”
“It’s supposed to be frightening,” a Nakar adds, their tone condescending. “You know, for the humans’ Halloween event? It’s supposed to show them who’s the most powerful here.”
More chuckles ripple around the room, each alien taking pride in what I am belatedly realizing is their miniature-me sculptures. Each one having carved likenesses of their own races. My gaze travels around the table, taking in the terrifying faces, the monstrous snouts, the rows of sharp teeth carved into orange flesh.
Their pumpkins are terrifying. And worthy to be put into competitions.
Khatak’s expression falls.
Not dramatically. Not with any attempt to hide it. Just… falls. His shoulders drop slightly, his tail goes still, and something that looks painfully like disappointment crosses his features. Maybe even embarrassment.
He thinks he’s done it wrong.
It’s written clearly across his face. Just honest emotion, playing out in real-time for anyone to see.
