I wake up to find that I’m in a very warm and comfortable bed. I stretch out slowly, carefully as my ankle aches. Reaching out I try to find the walking stick that they had given me earlier. Then I remember the embarrassing interaction with the Healer. I shrink back in on myself. I don’t remember anything after being given medicine. So what the heck was that about?! My heart beats with adrenaline. A noise from the entrance of the tent gets my attention. I strain my ears and stare. After a long second I realize it must have been a guard or someone waiting for me to wake up. I lay back down and touch my dry throat, my stomach starts aching as well. I sigh miserably and roll over, closing my eyes tightly against the feeling of intense helplessness. I don’t know how long I slept but I wake to something changing in the environment.

I recognize the sound of the chief’s breath as he enters. He rumbles something off to a guard in German and I lay there unsure of what to do. As he approaches I hear him pick something up off the floor. ‘The walking stick.’ I flinch when it makes a noise leaning up against wood. I shiver as I flashback to when I was beaten by my own cane. 

“I haven’t even touched you yet.” The chief says. I lift an arm to protect my face, ‘Is he implying he came in here to hurt me?!’ I try to say something but only a hoarse whimper comes out. “I have some questions for you.” He says as I struggle to sit up. I lower my head, “Okay, just please, don’t hurt me I’m not-” He touches my face and I gasp stiffening, “Does this hurt,” he asks leaning forward. I feel little uncontrollable tremors. “N,no, not if you’re gentle.” His fingers are rough as they dig into my cheeks as he turns my face from one side to the other, not unlike before.“You have such little ears.” He muses, “It’s a surprise you can hear me.” I clench my teeth, jaw working to keep me calm. “Open your mouth.” I feel the shock of the situation wear off finally and lift my hands, grabbing his hand and twisting my face out of his grip. Bruising the skin. My teeth are bared out by a deeper primal rage and fear. “Don’t touch me.” 

He doesn’t respond at first and then leaning forward calmly says, “If I try to force your mouth open, I’ll break your jaw.” I shiver a little at the threat but lift my chin and glare proudly, completely different than when he entered. Yeah I’m terrified but I’m still proud.

I don’t respond and he runs a hand through my hair, leaving his hand on my head, “No horns.” He says almost as if to convince himself. “You are so similar yet so different.” The sentence triggers a memory.

My breath shudders, “The Healer you sent in here before.”   

“Yes, what about him?” His breath blows over me, ‘Oh gawd he’s so close.’ I try to turn my face away but he doesn’t let me move an inch. I feel color rush and drain from my face over and over. “Let me go.” I grit my teeth growling a little bit in anger. He does surprisingly. I scoot back further, breathing deeply, “That Healer, I’m assuming he told you about-” 

The chief laughs, “He doesn’t understand you, says you made his job difficult.” 

I feel a small amount of despair but keep forging on with anger, “So I don’t get to have any basic rights, not even privacy?”

“Exactly,” the chief says amused. “You’re a prisoner.” I’m thrown off and can’t respond immediately. 

He reaches forward, very carefully lifting one of my arms, “Does this hurt?” I can’t hide the wince as his stone-like skin scrapes down my forearm to my open palm. He places the warm stone hand against my soft clammy one. “It hurts a little if you rub your skin against it like that.” I answer wary of his intentions, he massages the soft squishy part of my hand making a pleased noise. “You really are so fragile.”  He barely brushes my other arm, “So the lightest touch, doesn’t hurt.” I bite my lip and, not understanding why he is so obsessed with this topic, shake my head that it doesn’t hurt, honestly. “Good.” He says, “I enjoy the way your skin feels.” My face flushes and my heart beats excitedly, ‘No, don’t start crushing over anyone as soon as they compliment you.’ I snap at myself, you were just threatened by him a second ago, I suddenly wonder how Kal and San are doing. Then immediately after I think about my old life. Living in a house. It feels so different from what I’m going through right now.

I shake my head, nervous but still stubbornly ask, “Is San okay?”

“Why?” the chief asks. 

“Because he saved me, I’m worried about him.” 

“He is being treated the same as you.”

I stare down at the covers. ‘I’m hungry, thirsty, and scared. But I’m in a really nice, warm, and well furnished tent. “You’re not going to hurt us are you?” 

“It depends on if you were telling the truth or not.” He says with a small irritating smirk in his voice.

My face falls and I consider whether or not I should confess, ‘I guess it depends on whether or not he wanted to punish and banish San, he seemed pretty eager to punish him.’ I fumble with the corner of the blanket. “Will you know the answer soon?”

The chief is quiet for a second and then slowly answers, “It depends on how quickly the spies get back.” I curl in on myself and rub my leg nervously. 

The chief gets up and, sounding like he was getting ready to leave, asks, “I have things to do. Do you need anything?”

I wasn’t expecting him to ask that but thirst and hunger give me confidence to answer. “Yes, please, can I have water and something to eat?” 

“There’s some right there.” The chief answers surprised. I start, embarrassed and then reach out for him to put it in my hands. He sounds like he doesn’t go very far away in the tent then returns and puts a bowl in my lap. I reach for the contents and realize ecstatic that it’s food. I sniff each fruit and possibly the biggest mushrooms I’ve ever felt carefully. Nervous, I take a nibble out of each one. The flavors are each very different and very intense. I know I should wait to see if I have an adverse reaction to any of it but I’m so hungry that I choose the least odd tasting one and scarf it down. 

I wonder what I must look like sitting pathetically, scarfing down food like I was starving. I can easily imagine that the species difference would also make me seem like an exotic pet. Unfortunately the sticky sweet aftertaste makes my need for water almost to the point I can’t breathe. I swallow heavily, coughing, I’m almost tempted to ask for help. 

“Here.” The chief says, placing a cup against my mouth. I try to take the cup but he refuses to let go as I drink desperately from it. I was inadvertently grabbing his hands so he wouldn’t take the water away from me. “Do you need more?” He asks and I nod looking where I assume his eyes are, wondering if I’d ever put my well-being over my pride. ‘At least I didn’t say, no duh.’ 

“Use your words.” He orders. ‘Now I wish I did say it.’

I turn my head away, swallowing, voice thick with spite, “Can I have some more water, please?”

“Better.” He says monotone. I feel my forehead scrunch up and irritation building up under my skin like an itch. He stands once the water is gone and then without saying anything, touches my lips. I sit there on the bed in shock. “Please open your mouth so I can examine your teeth.” My brain processes what is happening a little slower than usual so the chief almost gives up stepping back with a sigh. 

“Why?” I ask.

I listen to him breathe. 

“Because I asked you nicely.” He crouches so he’s face to face with me. 

“Then let me… touch yours,” I say back. I force myself not to cringe, ‘I meant to say let me see yours but he would probably take it literally. And not that I just wanted to say, ‘you too then’, essentially.

“Fine. If that’s all it takes to make you comply.” He takes my hand without any chance for me to pull away and places it on one of his bottom fangs. They’re like tusks. So big that they protrude out of the bottom of his mouth. Curiosity and the fact that I’m trapped there make me bite my bottom lip and reach out my other hand, touching the other fang with it. I just know I have a stupid wowed face. I reach up and this time letting out a solidifying breath touch his horns as well. I can’t believe how big they are. It just happened. I follow the length of them trying to reach the tips and then he grabs my hands, “Alright that’s enough.”

He waits expectantly and I swallow, opening my mouth. He asks me to tilt my head up and silently observes for a long minute. My heart is racing. I flinch when he puts his hand on the side of my face, “That’s enough, thank you.” I close my mouth quickly and look somewhere in the distance, face hot and red. I hope I don’t have to do anything like this again. I was so worried he’d suddenly shove his fingers or medicine in my mouth.