What in the seven moons am I doing?
I thought my mind was set, that it was clear—or at least that it would be once the human was
gone.
Tracking her down wasn't hard. She either didn't know how to cover her trail or didn't care
to. Though as I tracked her, I noticed she had strayed from the path I initially expected her to
take. I had assumed she would return to that dirt burrow or back to wherever she originally
came from, but instead she had wandered deeper into fang-cat territory.
I couldn't think of any reason why the human would walk into such a dangerous area as
darkness began to fall over the forest, but I was even more stunned to find her sleeping there.
Was this human trying to get herself killed?
The only reasonable explanation for everything I'd seen was that she was lost. Why else
would she be out here wandering alone, putting herself in danger?
As darkness swallowed the forest and the fang-cats descended upon their prey, I found
myself acting before I could even think.
I sent my spear flying toward the closest fang-cat, scaring off all the others in the process.
Her shock and fear were evident as I made myself known and approached. But as I got closer,
I noticed something about her I hadn't before, and it made my blood boil.
Her hair—long white strands that stood out in the moonlight—was braided.
She merely stared at me in uncertainty as I gazed upon the worn and disheveled braid, held
together by a small, flimsy cord at the end.
This female was claimed by a male, and yet here she was, lost and alone, surrounded by
dangers far beyond what she was capable of handling, with her mate nowhere in sight.
Having a mate is a blessing. We are meant to protect and provide for them, and yet her mate
was nowhere to be found.
What possible reason could there be for her to be out here defenseless and unguarded by the
one who should be protecting her with his life?
Something about the whole situation set me off, and I couldn't think rationally. Instead I took
the female to a nearby hunting cave to rest while I nearly tore off my horns trying to decide
what to do next.
By sunrise my conflicting thoughts had only grown worse.
A large part of me felt like a fool for saving the human again, for helping her at all—while
another part of me couldn't accept the idea of leaving her to fend for herself when she so
clearly was struggling.
I knew I shouldn't involve myself with a human no matter what. There was no point, no
benefit in doing so, and yet the idea of walking away unsettled me.
But what was I supposed to do? I needed to return home, and taking the human with me was
out of the question. So what was I meant to do with her?
I pondered it throughout the morning and eventually decided I would try to find her mate, or
at least reunite her with another of her kind—one that would not attempt to harm or eat her,
of course.
If I could find a capable human male, I could be rid of this female without burdening my
conscience.
With that in mind I set out toward my village with the human following behind me. The
journey would take a couple of days, and I was sure I could find another human along the
way.
But as we traveled, my frustration rose. I was forced to slow my pace so the female could
keep up. She was uncoordinated and struggled to navigate the forest, much like a kit learning
to walk.
It was causing considerable delay, and the longer we walked, the slower she became.
When I noticed her pace had dropped to nearly nothing, I stopped. Perhaps the female needed
a rest—and some food.
She had refused to eat the meat I gathered the night before, and I doubted she had eaten
anything since the night I killed the other human.
I found myself questioning, once more, why I was even helping her.
Noticing a fruit-bearing tree nearby, I directed us toward it and stopped, looking at the
female. "Stay," I told her, then set down my spear and turned my attention upward.
High in the branches above were clusters of kabiet fruit, far out of reach of most forest
creatures.
Kabiet was not the most appetizing food, but it was better than nothing.
With little effort I scaled the tree, cut loose some of the fruit, and tossed it down to the female
below.
She caught the pieces and set them on the ground, studying them curiously as I climbed back
down.
Landing on my feet, I walked over and took half the fruit before sitting a few paces away to
eat.
I couldn't help but notice the way the female watched my movements as I carefully sliced
open the fruit and ate.
She quickly turned her attention to her own share and attempted to do the same, only to fail
and make a mess of it.
I scoffed, unable to comprehend how she couldn't manage something so simple.
But rather than being discouraged, she seemed intrigued. The sweet scent of the kabiet hit her
nose, and when she tasted it, her eyes lit up with wonder.
I watched, surprised, as she ate with startling enthusiasm while I slowly worked through my
own share.
Before I knew it she had finished her portion and was licking the residue from her fingers.
The sight was peculiar. Kabiet was usually the last thing anyone wanted to eat because of its
sickly sweet flavor, and yet this female had devoured two whole fruits in mere minutes as
though it were the finest meal she'd ever had.
Was she starving?
My gaze dropped to the uneaten fruit in my hand. How long had she gone without a proper
meal? Why hadn't she eaten the meat last night if she was this hungry?
The longer I was around this human, the more unsettled I became by her situation.
Without a second thought I called out to get her attention and tossed her the last fruit.
She looked surprised as she caught it, then looked at me with a curious expression.
"Hurry and eat. We have a lot of ground to cover," I said, retrieving my spear and turning to
gaze out into the forest. I had too many unnecessary, unanswered questions crowding my
head.
After a moment I noticed her approach hesitantly from my side, like a skittish animal.
I watched as she held out half the fruit I had just given her, offering it to me.
I stared at the fruit in her hand, then looked at her face. Her lips curved into a smile.
My claws dug into my arm as I fought to keep my expression neutral, hiding my surprise.
Why would she offer to share when she so obviously needed it more? Did she think it would
lower my guard? Was she simply a fool with no sense of self-preservation?
Did she think this would make us friends?
Not wanting my inner turmoil to show, I reluctantly held out my hand and took the fruit in a
way that made clear it was no gesture of friendship—I wanted no misunderstandings.
Somehow her smile only grew brighter as she handed it over, then happily finished the last of
her own.
I eyed my half, reluctant to eat it, but if I didn't—my gaze flicked briefly to the small female
beside me.
It would be wrong to let it go to waste.
I ate it quickly.
After a short rest we continued on. I chose an easier path this time—animal trails and flatter
terrain. It would add some time to our journey, but it was better than being slowed every few
minutes because the human was struggling to climb over a fallen tree or kept losing her
footing.
Thinking about how hungry she had been, I also considered that she would likely need water
soon. The closest source was the nearby river that marked the border. But did I dare go that
way?
I was pulled from my thoughts when the female suddenly caught up to me and fell into step at
my side. I barely glanced at her as she watched me closely. Why couldn't she have kept this
pace from the start?
I did my best to ignore the strange looks she kept giving me as we walked side by side
through the dense forest. After a long moment she cleared her throat, and my eyes briefly met
hers. A small smile pulled at her lips. She stepped in front of me and began walking
backward along the trail, then stopped and placed her hand on her chest with an air of pride.
"Ah-lee-ta." She gestured to herself and repeated it. "Ahh-leet-ahh."
Was this her name?
My frustration was growing. At this rate it would take twice as long to reach home. What was
the point of exchanging names? We were not companions, and we were certainly not friends.
The last thing I wanted was to be acquainted with a human.
I stepped around her and kept walking. A moment later she jogged to catch up and fell into
step beside me again. "Meh nume siz 'ahh-lee-tahh!'" She gestured to herself once more and
looked at me expectantly.
This time I didn't even glance at her and simply kept walking. That seemed to discourage
her—the smile faded from her lips and she fell back a few paces. There was a strange itch at
the back of my mind as I walked, an irritating pull that made me want to look back despite
how little I should have cared.
Wanting nothing more than to be rid of it, I glanced back. Her pace had slowed considerably,
and she looked almost saddened by my indifference. For some reason, seeing that shift in her
stirred something inside me—something unfamiliar.
The feeling was uncomfortable.
Sighing, I attempted her name. "Ah-le-da?"
The female perked up immediately, lifting her head. I could see her eyes light up as she
caught up to me and said her name again, slowly.
"Al-ee-ta."
"Al-ita... Alita?" She beamed with excitement as I finally got it right, and I felt my tail twitch
behind me as she smiled.
Alita. Her name is Alita.
She seemed so happy after such a simple exchange. It was interesting how little it took to
excite her—she had been just as overjoyed eating the fruit.
"Su nume?" she asked, pulling me from my thoughts. When she realized I had no idea what
she was saying, she repeated her own name, gestured to herself, then gestured to me.
She wanted my name.
I hesitated, but seeing the excitement in her expression and her eagerness to know who I was,
I found I could hardly stop myself from answering.
"Azriel. You can call me Azriel."
EPISODE: 10: Names
POV: ALITA
This was the first time since my arrival that I felt somewhat safe—after everything that's
happened, it made sense I'd be on edge 24/7, but with the stranger, it's not so bad...
We were finally communicating. It wasn't much, but I was still overwhelmed with
excitement at the prospect of what this could mean for us. Learning each other's names was
just the first step; we still had a long way to go before we could properly communicate, and I
knew that much for certain. But if there was one thing my father had taught me, it was that
even the smallest improvements could lead to big changes.
"As-rel... no, az-ray-il?" I tried to mimic the sounds he'd made before. He had some kind of
purr in his speech that made it difficult to repeat his name exactly as he said it. "Azrayel?"
He shook his head and looked at me, saying his name again slowly. "Azriel."
"Az-re-il... Azriel!" I smiled once I got it right, and he nodded before placing his hand to his
chest and repeating his name. "Azriel."
I pointed to him and spoke his name—"Azriel"—before pointing back to myself. In turn, he
spoke my name. "Alita."
It was nice to finally have a name for the person who had saved my life, even if he didn't
seem nearly as enthusiastic about it. I felt like I had just made a friend, a very grumpy
friend...
I tested his name a few times as we continued our journey. I wasn't sure if it was intentional,
but his pace seemed to have slowed considerably compared to before, though Azriel still
seemed like he was in a rush to get somewhere—and soon.
Glancing toward the sky as we traveled, I noticed the sun drawing closer to the horizon and
the moons becoming more apparent.
Perhaps he was looking for shelter before night set in?
We had traveled a long way from the cave we'd slept in before. I hoped he wasn't planning
for us to keep walking after nightfall. Although he seemed to have no issue traversing in the
dark, I struggled without proper lighting.
Not to mention I needed rest. I may have managed to get some food earlier thanks to Azriel,
but it was far from a proper meal, and I didn't have much energy to spare.
But what could I do? I doubted we would just happen upon another cave like the one from
last night, and without shelter, where could we possibly sleep? It wasn't safe to camp out in
the open.
I glanced around the surrounding area, thinking about how I had unknowingly wandered into
the territory of giant, man-eating felines. Had he not come back for me, I wouldn't have made
it through the night.
Too lost in my thoughts, I failed to notice Azriel had stopped in his tracks and ended up
bumping into him from behind. "Ow—s-sorry!"
He flinched as I stumbled but otherwise remained stoic, gazing out toward the forest. I
watched him, confused. I had expected him to snap at me again for touching him, but he
didn't even spare me a glance. He was just frozen in place.
Following his gaze, I looked out toward the forest ahead of us. I couldn't see anything out of
the ordinary, but something about how dark and quiet it had become unsettled me.
Wait—when did it get so quiet?
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Azriel tense before he suddenly turned, grabbed my arm,
and pulled me with him. I squeaked in surprise as he dragged me through the treeline and
behind some cover, then pressed his back against a tree and pulled me against his chest.
I whimpered as his grip closed painfully tight around my injured arm and tried to speak—to
tell him he was hurting me—but Azriel cut me off with a harsh whisper.
I didn't even get a chance to respond before I heard something approaching from behind the
tree. I could feel Azriel tense, and his grip on my injured wrist only tightened in response.
I couldn't stop the pained whimper that slipped past my lips. Azriel released his spear with
his other hand and quickly covered my mouth, giving me a whispered hiss as if trying to
shush me. I grabbed at his arm with my free hand, trying to pull it away so I could speak or at
least show him he was hurting me—but I froze completely as a clicking sound rang out from
somewhere nearby.
Holding me against his chest with my mouth covered, Azriel peered around the tree before
pulling back and pressing himself even harder against its surface. Tilting my head up, I was
met with a new and worrisome expression on his usually stoic face. He looked... nervous.
Azriel was strong—far stronger than anyone I had ever met. He could take down a grown
man with ease, scale giant trees with little effort, and move fast and agile even on uneven
terrain. He could throw a spear hard enough to bring down a giant cat nearly as big as
himself. There was little he couldn't do.
Until now, he had only ever shown confusion, anger, or indifference. Truthfully, I hadn't
thought there was anything this man would be afraid of—or even the slightest bit worried
about.
What kind of monster could possibly drive someone like Azriel to hide in fear?
As the clicking sound grew closer, Azriel slid down the base of the tree, dragging me with
him, until I was practically sitting in his lap with my back held against his chest and his hand
still covering my mouth.
His grip on my arm tightened again. I winced as tears stung my eyes and beat my fist quietly
against his arm to get his attention.
He finally looked down at me, and I glanced toward his hand on my arm to show him what he
was doing. His eyes widened, and he released my wrist, letting me cradle it against my chest.
His gaze locked onto the crimson blood now painting his palm from where he had squeezed
my injury, and I heard him curse quietly under his breath before he looked back around the
tree.
The clicking grew closer. Azriel's eyes swept the area before landing on a strange fern
growing just a few feet away.
His tail lashed out and sliced one of the fern's leaves from its stalk. He snatched it up and
crushed it in his hand. A greenish oil oozed from the plant, reeking of something like burning
hair. The worst part came when he grabbed my injured arm and began smearing the oil across
the wound, sending a searing, burning pain radiating up my arm.
My cries were muffled as Azriel kept his hand firmly over my mouth, whispering something
under his breath.
It burns! Tears welled in my eyes as he held me securely against his chest to keep me from
making any more noise.
The burning sensation was quickly overruled by fear as the clicking sounded again—this
time, right behind us. My breath caught in my throat. I tilted my head up to look at Azriel and
watched a bead of sweat roll down the side of his face as he held us perfectly still, watching
and waiting.
We could hear something big sniffing around the area, its low growl wrapped in that deep,
echoing click. I dared not make a sound or move as whatever we were hiding from drew
closer. I could feel Azriel's heart racing against my back as the creature searched the area.
Its shadow fell over our hiding place. The clicking slowed, dropping lower in frequency,
growing almost thoughtful—and then silence washed over the forest.
The only sound was my own frantic heartbeat pounding in my ears as the creature stood
there, looming over our hiding place as if it knew exactly where we were.
A roar in the distance broke the silence. The creature seemed to respond, turning and walking
away from us. We listened as it moved off, no doubt heading toward whatever had roared.
We stayed still and silent even after the sounds faded completely. I hadn't realized how badly
I was shaking until Azriel finally moved to peer around the tree.
Finding the coast clear, he slowly let me go, removing his hand from my mouth as I cradled
my injured arm against my chest.
I turned to look at him. He met my eyes with an expression I couldn't quite
read—somewhere between remorse and concern.
"What was that?" I managed to whisper, still shaken from the encounter.
Azriel couldn't understand my words, but I knew he could understand my fear from the look
in his eyes.
He glanced back toward where the creature had been standing moments before, then returned
his gaze to me and uttered a single word.
"Draven."