Citrine (Deliverance #3)

17. Wroahk

17

Wroahk

Slinking out of the cove she has claimed, I venture back into the dark cave. I can taste the remnants of my blood and feel my tentacles healing from the earlier attacks.

I sigh, resting my back against the moss in the cave and dipping my tentacles into the water and using them to splash more across my body.

It moisturizes me, taking away the feeling of thirst and dryness I've had since I got on land.

I don't know how that female exists solely on land. From what I've seen, she prefers to stay above the water and rarely ventures near it, making her a completely foreign concept to me.

There is land on my home, but it is only occupied by thoughtless beasts. None of them can speak, let alone steal my voice.

I can't fathom staying above water for an extended period. It's not something I ever thought I would have to do, and then it's something I vowed I never would after almost dying from being beached so far from water by my captors.

The cave is still and quiet. I don't feel anything else in my immediate environment, reassuring me that I've at least scared off the Many Teeth to abandon their nest and not breach the area on land.

If she is my prey, the surrounding area is my territory. I know better than to let other predators roam freely around it.

The large cave just beside the cove has a much larger opening I can fit myself into, and from that opening, I can watch her closely. If I walk just a little farther, she'll be within my reach. My tentacles twitch agitatedly as I hear her voice. It is rather loud, and she might as well be notifying the surrounding predators of her presence in the area. My presence is the only deterrence she has.

I didn't understand her words, or why she would want to talk about how I killed the Many Teeth.

She wasn't praising my skills. She wasn't talking about her own weakness. It was like she was trying to tell me she liked what I did, but there was a meaning beyond that I know I am missing.

I don't like feeling like a fool.

I truly did not mean to save her. It is forbidden, especially considering she was on land.

My body moved before I could understand what I was doing, and I was reaching out to break what was trying to steal my prey from me. My instinct to hunt, my most basic and useful instinct, felt like it was snatched from me in an instant and I was moving to use it to protect her.

Still, it doesn't explain why I didn't kill her myself afterward. It was like I was being controlled.

I move to the front of the cave and look back at her. As usual, she's doing something strange.

She gathers parts of the trees with one limb, stopping and panting for a few minutes before she continues to walk around the large trees. She picks up more parts of the trees before she goes back to settle at the base of the large tree.

I can't figure out why she's doing something as useless as that. Will she continue to get more bizarre? Driving me to insanity, even as I think I have a grasp on her strange behaviors?

The sounds of her groans pull my attention back to her. She's trying to dampen them, clamping her lips shut. I hear her labored breaths all the way from the cave, making my ear drums itch.

She's trying to tie her limb to a tree. Why? Is this a trick?

It's going on for too long for it to be, and it looks far too painful for deceit. She's a weak creature who needs to rely on her mobility to escape from predators. Tying herself down is a terrible idea.

She moves her grasper slightly, moans in pain and shakes her head, whispering words I can't understand under her breath. She doesn't seem to be making any progress, and her energy will only dwindle the more she tries.

Why do such a useless thing? Is she trying to pull my attention? Is this a trap mechanism for her species? Why must she be so impossible to understand?

I move closer to the cave opening, a moment away from breaching into where she is. I haven't absorbed enough water, and my tentacles are still healing. Yet, my body doesn't seem to listen as it leans into her voice, desperately trying to escape my self-restraint and move to her.

I cannot let that happen.

She stops again, breathing heavily. It's irregular and I'm beginning to question how she's even still conscious. It's hard for prey to endure extended pain.

Is it to attract my attention? Does she want to control my body? Get a predator to do her own hunting?

I don't know nearly enough, and I keep watching, despite the struggle within me. She holds one end of the vine in her teeth and the other with her free grasper, taking slow, deliberate breaths. She pulls both ends of the vine and the most gut-wrenching scream erupts from her throat.

I've heard prey scream many times as I sunk my teeth into their flesh, enjoying the sounds of their terror before the life departs from their eyes. I should enjoy her screams, but I don't.

I need her to stop. Right now.

Her entire body trembles as she falls to her knees and pants. Why is she going through all this pain? I look at the limb she has tied to the tree and see it's the one that looked broken before.

What's the use of her actions? She can just shed it and grow it back. It might be better for her to cut it off. It is what I do for all my limbs.

Then a prickle of awareness creeps over me. Of… fear? What if she can't?

She uses her free grasper to feel the one tied to the tree, shivering as she does. I can tell it hurts, but she is relentless. Her expressions makes it easy to tell that she's going through more pain than she can handle.

So why do it? I have protected her all this time. Why does she want to harm herself?

She pulls against the tie again, screaming out in pain. Her face contorts, bodily fluids leaking from her eyes, which roll in their sockets, brimming at the edge with more fluid. My desire to go to her fights harder against my restraint, but I prevail once more.

Just barely. I shouldn't care. I don't care.

She mutters something under her breath again, moving her body upright as she slowly moves one end of the vine to her mouth. It is strange to watch, like time is moving slower than it should be. She rests her back against the giant tree, her eyes barely open as she pants. My grasper clenches unconsciously, even though she isn't doing anything.

Her voice gets louder as she speaks to herself in the same strange language, pulling the vine with her teeth, holding it taut like she's giving herself strength, then moves back to where she was.

I recognize it almost too late. She's about to do it again.

She pulls again and screams, her voice becoming raw. Her groans rile up something in me, a burning urge I can't ignore, and no longer care that I don't understand. My instincts crash against my restraint like an overflowing river, and my body moves, ignoring the protests of my mind.

Nothing is allowed to hurt her. Ever. Not even herself.

With that in mind, I lunge out of the cave, fully set on stopping her before she hurts herself even further. Every rational thought in my head screams at me to stop, to consider my dignity. Time slows again as I'm rushing toward her.

And then even my mind stops holding me back. I have decided to protect her, and I will be as effective and ruthless at it as I am in my hunting.

Not even she will stop me.

Her face looks pale, like all the blood has been drained from it as I get close to her.

I like my prey intact and healthy, for a good chase. I cannot chase her with a faulty limb, neither can I fully gorge myself on a proper meal.

Yes, that feels right. This is what I will keep telling myself. That she's a meal worth saving.

From the moment I move onto the dry, scratchy weeds, the burning behind my throat reminds me I shouldn't stay for too long, shouldn't linger. However, the rest of my body is intent on writhing to her.

I'm caught between a cliff and a deep plunge, and I already chose to jump. There's no stopping it now. I know I'm choosing to interact with this female.

Whatever happens next, I am sure it is a decision I will regret.