I wondered who could have been strong enough—or trusted enough—to have gotten close enough to wound him like that. He’d crashed into a planet like an asteroid and clawed his way out of the hole unscathed, right before my eyes. Who could have possibly caused a being like him any damage?

Then I remembered that there were others somewhat like him. Like the being who’d appeared on the first planet, throwing tsunamis of snow against the soldiers like he was tossing bits of paper. I thought about Torrance left behind there, no doubt killed by him, and wanted to break down.

There was still no sign of the alien waking. My bladder throbbed. Cautiously and as quietly as possible, I scooted down his body, wriggling out from the canopy of his wing and the warm weights of his arm and tail. Frankly, I was kind of shocked that none of my moving had woken him. If he always slept this deeply, I might actually have a shot at getting away from him if I tried.

I decided that right now I’d start with something small: getting away from him long enough to pee in private.

I crawled out of the lean-to, then shakily stood. I winced, immediately regretting the fact I hadn’t taken off my sodden boots last night. They felt awful and squishy and my feet were clammy and gross. I kicked them off and peeled off the damp socks, placing them all in a sunny patch in the grove of trees. I picked a tree on the other side of the grove, near the edge closest to the river, and went around it before pulling my pants and underwear down and crouching. I breathed out slowly and peed, using that quiet moment to take in my surroundings.

This really was a beautiful place. Everything that had been bronze and black and silver last night was now golden green. Long blades of grass and the stalks of the reeds and rushes near the river were lush and verdant. The rocks at the shore almost looked like slabs of marble, blue and gold streaking and swirling together. The sandy soil was golden brown, and the river ahead shone like a liquid mirror. Buzzing insects and the calls of cawing birds filled the air in a way that felt at once alien and familiar.

After crouching for a while, my legs began to protest. I hadn’t thought ahead to what I’d use to wipe and sighed. One of the cottony puffs would probably work, but I’d have to get over there first. After a quick glance around told me nothing appeared to be ready to jump out and swallow me whole, I crouch-waddled out of the grove of trees to a patch of rushes, grabbing the tall green stalk of the nearest one and bending its fluffy tip down to my level. The cottony puff at the top was slightly tapered, shaped like the flame of a candle. I fingered the soft fluff of it, marvelling at the way thin threads of copper-coloured metal seemed to grow right from the plant itself.

I examined the soft puff thoroughly, gently pulling it apart with my fingers and bending the threads of metal. The last thing I wanted was to dab this between my legs only to find out too late that there was some kind of stinging insect inside. Or to find out that I’d just put the alien version of a Toxicodendron species like poison ivy directly against my pussy.

But as far as my eyes and fingers could tell, the cottony stuff was just as benign as it appeared. I waited another few moments, making sure no irritation cropped up on my hands. I knew that something like a Toxicendron reaction could show up hours or even days after exposure, so I was still taking a bit of a chance, but there didn’t seem to be any oil or sap coming off the soft fluff that could cause a problem.

I carefully peeled away the metal bits (because wouldn’t jabbing myself with one of those just be lovely?) and quickly dabbed between my legs. My thighs burned, shaking beneath me after remaining crouched for so long. I dropped the puff, steadying my hands on my knees and preparing to stand, when a sudden crashing sound startled me, causing me to fall forward onto my hands and knees. Panicking, I wrenched my head backwards, only to find the alien standing at the edge of the grove behind me, his chest heaving with ragged breaths and his eye fastened to my bare ass.

CHAPTER TEN

Skallagrim

I’d forgotten what it was to sleep. I could not even remember the last time I’d done it. I had no idea how long I’d been in darkness, but in that darkness, I did not rest. At least, not like this. Not the way I rested wrapped around my little star. Clutching that small creature to my chest was a comfort that nearly defied words, and my worn-out body had immediately slipped into a deep, restorative slumber.

But perhaps the slumber was too deep. Because I did not feel or hear the little star disappear. I did not know if it had fled, or it was taken. I only knew, as I awoke, that something was very wrong. So wrong it seemed to screw my bones too tight against each other. A sense of terror gripped me. Terror that something had befallen the little star. That it was hurt somewhere, or dying, and that I wouldn’t get to it in time.

And then I would be lost in the darkness once again.

I rose with a swallowed roar, sending the side of the lean-to crashing outwards as my wings snapped open. I wanted to run, to fly, to find. To appease the deafening dread with pure might and anger and speed. But I forced myself not to jump into the air. I lifted my snout and breathed in deeply, though rather raggedly, catching the sweet scent of the little star on the air, alongside another new scent that reminded me vaguely of urine. Both fresh.

I followed the trail, sprinting through the grove until I reached its edge and stopped.

There was the little star. It stared back at me from a position on all fours, eyes huge. My own eye was likely just as wide as it settled on the exposed backside of the creature. No tail obscured the sight of its plump, luscious flesh, its backside and thighs a creamy white that made my jaw ache. And nestled between those thighs...

A glistening area of ruffled pink flesh with a slit at the centre, framed with soft golden hair.

A strange tightness entered the area of my throat. And my groin. The river in my head crashed against a rock made of bone and sent droplets of water flying, each one a single word.

Female. Cunt. Wet. Rut. She. Her.

Cocks.

That’s what I had. Cocks. Tucked away in my slit, I’d barely remembered them as I’d tried to reorient myself in a world and a body that made so little sense.

I remembered them now.

I tightened the muscles of my slit, ignoring the engorgement happening beneath with a hiss.

The little star, she, scrambled into a seated position, yanking up the clothing that had covered her legs and soft little cunt up until this point. We stared at each other, and I marvelled at the fact that even though I had not been touching her for some time, the darkness did not seem to be coming back for me as quickly as it had when she had first run from me in that rocky valley. It was as if being curled around her all night had filled me up in some way, like a rock being warmed by the sun so thoroughly it gave off heat even after nightfall.

I wondered how long I could go without touching her.

I was not willing to test it.

Even now my fingers were twitching to reach for her. My tail snapped back and forth as tension gathered in my spine. I crossed the distance between us in quick strides, bent, and clasped my hands around her shoulders, lifting her to her feet. I realized her feet were uncovered now, and I stared in fascination at the tiny, clawless toes while my hands stroked absentmindedly up and down her plush arms. The tiny, sensitive scales on my fingertips and palms prickled, registering just how deliciously soft she was.