Chapter 13: Grand Hunter
Nalah flexed her arm, testing the degree in which it recovered. It wasn’t back to full capacity; it would be weeks of eating well and exercise to regain what she had lost, but it was serviceable. Pan had apparently been saved by the biped, though she deviated from to her character by providing as little detail as possible in long-winded fashion. All they learned was that ‘it’ was a ‘he’, he had no kin on the planet, and had supplies enough for six additional mouths at a moment's notice.
The origins or methods to accumulate such supplies was lost on them, save for a creature that had adapted to its stealthy peers by emulating a stone to some degree. Information on the insectoids was also sparse, limited to; both being female, unlikely to be native to the planet, and much kinder than their weaponized appearance would suggest. Though likely still as deadly.
Nalah didn’t fault her for the lack of effectiveness within her report; Harrow had told Sahari her suspicions when Pan didn’t come back that moon while she thought everyone else was sleeping. Pan was likely barely cognizant to begin with before she entered the pack’s den, never mind when she was there. It was still unfortunate, as now they owed a debt, one which they had gathered for after Tel and Harrow had returned from setting up their new hunting method.
Every member was evenly spread around the fire, using the warmth to combat the rolling cold. Jax had taken to leaning against a nearby tree across from her, and Harrow had laid on the ground, facing away. The rest sat in various positions to get as comfortable as they could manage.
Sahari sat rested against a tree next to Nalah, one hand on her lowered thigh, the other hovering in front of her mouth, propped on a raised knee as she mulled over the situation. The eyes of her Huntress lay lost even when piercing through the trees, fire flickering a reflection against them. Her form slowly recovering to its more powerful visage, fur gaining back its mesmerizing sheen.
Nalah broke her own admiration and the pack’s contemplative silence. “So, how do we repay them?”
Tel leaned forward in her cross-legged seating, holding her feet with both paws. “Do we need to? They did it out of sympathy, didn’t they?”
“What do we have that they would desire?” Jax questioned, shifting his weight to the other foot. He seemed dismissive of the idea to begin with, speaking while watching the branches sway with an obvious lack of attention.
Sahari let out a deep breath, glancing at their Intel Officer. “Harrow, what say the code when an individual saves an entire squad from the brink of the Void?”
A slight shuffling sound could be heard over the muted winds. “Ah! that’s hot.” Harrow had rolled over to face Sahari, having been warming her back near the fire, quickly retreating slightly to a more comfortable distance when her face got too close to the flame, her nose scrunched at the unexpected heat. “It depends, old law or standard military doctrine?”
Sahari dropped her hovering hand as she waved it dismissively. “Our options?”
Harrow slowly rolled her eyes, seemingly searching for the memories required. “Military doctrine says he’s owed... Okay. On group efforts; each individual who participated is excused from service for six months for every life of an active military asset recovered safely, assuming individuals are not in active duty. Individual cases are rare, but I think the last time it happened, they ruled the saviour was entitled to a year-long exemption from service for every life and a sizable payout.”
“That is for enlisted citizens, correct?” Sahari scowled as she implied an underlying issue with the possibilities presented.
Harrow barked a laugh. “Find me a Lilhun that’s not enlisted and I'll find you a pirate.”
Sahari twitched as the sentence finished before exhaling through her nose.
“Doubt he’s flying our flag, Harrow.” Nalah stated flatly.
The Grand Huntress ran her paw over her face, working out the exhaustion that showed in her eyes. “And what of the old law? Before we went to war?”
Jax grew a frown at the query, but a glare from Nalah kept him from saying anything about it.
“Hmm...” The intel officer mulled it over, oblivious to the subtle discord around her, rolling her tongue over in her mouth as she thought. “If I had to say, in the latest recorded instance of it happening before mass militarization, the male in question earned himself roughly the same. Money, commendation, servants and mates.”
Sahari cocked an eyebrow. “Specifically?”
Harrow rolled to her stomach, propping herself on her elbows, taking care not to put herself closer to the fire this time. “The company had four members trapped after a mine they were sent into to investigate blew out. Couldn’t get them out themselves due to a firefight. Some guy dug them out with his bare paws. Military honour code dictated that the surviving members each send him fifteen percent of their yearly income for four years, or supply a willing servant of theirs. Failing that, supply an bondless mate in their pack. Failing that, they were to serve, if able, themselves. It’s an old case for old rules.”
Nalah spoke up, weight resting on one arm while the other picked at their new ‘snares’ that Pan had brought back with her. The device was simple, hardened wood shaped into a thin wire, a loop on one end and the other would feed through it to be attached to low bushes or trees. The specifics of construction weren’t included with the gift, but it had already more than tripled their catch. Far from enough for them to eat comfortably, but enough that it would stave off starvation. “So, anyone want to do the math on our current salary now that everyone who signs for our pay is dead?”
Sahari slumped against the tree, letting out a long sigh, chest sinking further than usual. “Our options are limited to establishing communications with our command, whom are either dead or unreachable, or supply him a servant or mate of our own.”
“Alternatively, we disregard the old laws and seize the den for ourselves.” Jax grunted, irritated that the group was entertaining the thought to begin with. “We number them twice over.”
“Great idea, Jax! Let’s piss off our saviour as well as the two living weapons he leads!” The sarcasm slathered on every word Tel offered, her arms thrown in faux excitement, as well as an accompanied wince at the effort. “You might be able to fight, but even you don’t have shit on those insects.”
He jabbed his claw towards the recon, indignation bled from his scowl. “They saw easy prey and were too weak to finish the job. I say we take it over. One ambush with our numbers and we take them as servants ourselves.”
“You only have enough energy to talk shit because of their ‘weakness’, Jax.” Nalah snapped.
“The three of you, shut up.” Sahari droned; her eyes stared at the clouds that had drifted towards them. “We follow the code. We owe them at least one life they saved.”
“What, and just hand over our manpower? Lose another of our kin? We’re struggling enough as it is, why would we wish to lose more?” Jax chopped his words, his attention pulled towards the Grand Huntress along with his seething ire.
Sahari turned her head to look at him, venom dripping off of every word. “We follow our code because the bastards that put us into this situation did not. We are at WAR because of those who do not. We have lost entire colonies because of them, entire planets. You will follow the code because I say you will. An authority that you all gave me when you made your pledge. If you still refuse, I will be the one to put you down, not them.” She finished with a sharp breath, her stare burrowing into him. “We will send one of our own as a show of our gratitude as our code demands. That is final.”
Jax faltered under the scrutiny of the Grand Huntress, breaking his own angered gaze into one of bitterness. The group fell silent as the weight of the declaration settled among them.
“What if they betray the code?” Harrow whispered, as if the words themselves would bring the wrath of the Hunt Mother.
“Then we have been cursed by their kindness.” Nalah answered. She knew Sahari did not make this judgment lightly, she would offer herself if it not for her position.
Nalah, however, was no stranger to that style of sacrifice. Years of bearing the unwanted marks and stimulants at the behest of her captors, months blending into slurry in which she was complicit in horrible crimes. When she wanted an out, to get clean and wash the sins free from her blood, Sahari had helped her escape. Gave her work, a home, a friend. When she left for her service, Nalah had almost broken. She drove herself to excel to distract from the pain, to be selected on the mission to survey a new planet just to escape her past. When that failed, she joined the military. Gruff and crass, she found no peers, only those who avoided her when her reputation preceded her.
Seeing Sahari so many years later as she walked off the ramp of the ship that abandoned them, Nalah almost wept for joy. When she seen her carrying Pan on her back, she eased Nalah of her burden. Pride burned within her as her Grand Huntress rallied their group, wearing claws to nubs and bones to dust to save even just one more person. It was no mistake to pledge herself, she just wished she could offer more. This may be the chance to.
“So...” Their recon was uncharacteristically sombre, soft spoken in contrast to her usual bombastic utterance. “Who do we send?”
The silence was uncomfortable, no one wanted to be the first to suggest another nor themselves. To accept was to abandon their vow, to be selected was to have their vow abandon them. A pop of the fire sounded out uncontested, filling the void caused by their indecision.
Nalah stared at the ground, knowing what she must do. If she must bear another mark for her Grand Huntress, she would gladly do so. “I’ll d-”
“Me.” Pan cut her off before she could finish, the word snapping like a whip. The white Lilhun remained fixated on the fire, gold woven backpack reinforced with silver plating resting between her legs.
Nalah felt her resolve deflate. Her determination all but happy to be given a safe escape. “What?”
Sahari looked to her, concerned expression plain to see. “Pan, you don’t need to-”
“I’m synchronized.” She stated flatly, dismissing the apprehension at her statement, her stare unflinching at the sparks.
“You’re sync’d? How!?” Harrow pushed herself off of her elbows and onto her pads, leaning towards Pan with eyes of astonishment. Pan ignored the questions, turning her attention to placing some supplies that had been stored in the bag onto the ground next to her. Food and a large water skin made from an animal that integrated moss as a camouflage, water many times over what they could have brought with them on their journey here.
Jax broke his disgusted veil, curiosity taking its place. “The experimental tech? What’s so interesting about something doing that it’s supposed to?”
“The fact that it’s a prototype we stole from their diplomatic envoy? The fact it worked so quickly?” Harrow’s excitement banished any apprehension she had previously.
Tel raised a paw, confusion making itself evident on her face. “What are we talking about?”
Nalah decided to answer before Harrow could rattle off specifications. “Adaptive translator. Command mandated installation on all comms officers so that they could tap enemy transmissions and relay it back to the brass. It’s what’s in that box you took. The original prototype anyway. Our people stole it when they declared war. Our entire crew had one installed before we left, if I remember correctly.”
Tel’s face paled. “Oh. You mean when they installed those update chips?”
“It was added to the suite of functions as an afterthought. Less powerful than the stolen prototype, which was less powerful than the ones they had used as a reference. All top secret, mind you.” Harrow pitched in.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Tel furrowed her brow. “And you know about this why?”
“Encryption sucked.” Harrow and Jax said in unison, glancing at each other for the first time since they had gathered.
Sahari leaned forward, resting her both arms on her knees as she adjusted her posture. “Supposedly, it was to map neurons to concepts as you were exposed to the language. Unfortunately, it was only to process incoming audio, rendering it quite useless for more physically based communications. That, in addition to its limitation to a mere singular language, rendered it little more than a paltry technological gimmick with its long adaptation process. There are more languages in our enemies ranks than we have communication officers to oversee their transmissions.”
Pan paused her unpacking, her mouth finishing voiceless syllables before speaking. “Not perfect. Not yet. His language is fractured, rules created and bent or broken at random. Idioms and contextual references far outweigh the direct.”
Harrow dropped her enthusiasm at the admittance of inadequacy, ears following suit. “Are you sure Pan? It doesn’t have to be you.”
“I see no down side. We get rid of the defect, save resources, and he gains a servant.” Jax spit, smugness oozing from his tone, stopping Harrow from suggesting anything further.
“Jax,” Sahari glared at him, pointing to the woods. “Walk.” The command was short and sharp.
He returned the glare, a snarl fighting its way out. He thought better of it, a glance at Nalah betraying his hesitation in fighting two combatants at once while he proceeded in grumbling to himself while forcefully grabbing his spear as he walked through the trees.
“I could go...” Tel’s voice held only a hint of confidence, overshadowed by uncertainty.
Pan shook her head, finally clearing her bag of any items she had in it. “I’ll act as a bridge between us. If you need help, it would be beneficial to have someone there who can act as a translator.”
“Unfortunately, i am hard pressed to propose an alternative.” Sahari admitted, her eyes lingering to ensure Jax had indeed left before filling with pain at the decision she must make to hold her honour. She glanced at Nalah with apology, a silent regret for not being able to be the great leader she strives to be. Turning to Tel, Sahari spoke again. “Your job will be to take up Pan’s task. You’ll watch over the pack to determine if they hold honour, as well as helping us put up and check those ‘snares’ she brought back.”
Tel shifted her weight, cocking her head to the side. “And if they do?”
The Grand Huntress nodded to herself; eyes closed. “Then we may have need of them.”
“And if they don’t?” Nalah questioned, letting the insinuation sit with the group.
Her voice turned cold after a pause, eyes remaining closed yet still seeming steeled. “Then they will have need of us.”
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The wires sparked as Joseph joined another set, catching himself from falling off the roof by grabbing the rope he had tied to the panel box. He grumbled about his lack of equipment as he finished adding the new connections, careful to prop his foot against the ledge of a skylight, it’s fine solar mesh shadowed by his foot.
He looked into the facilities below him, an empty room that had been given a rudimentary bed and a shelf that held their healroot and assorted medicine. Mama had really taken to her woodworking, adding furnishings to any room that needed some. She was overjoyed when he suggested making one of the rooms into a med bay, felling several trees and dragging them back through the cold meadow without complaint. He would have to talk to her about reforestation efforts at some point if she was going to open a furniture workshop like this, but she seemed so happy to have excuses to whittle her hours away that he simply smiled as she tempered her shelves over a fire in the garden, retreating back inside as soon as each piece no longer needed direct intervention and watching it through the windows.
The panel box closed with a hearty thump, the edge resealing to protect internals from the elements. He stood to his full height, closed his eyes tight to release them of their focus and stretching his back, it cracking loudly in protest of the hours spent bent over. He took a moment to just silently enjoy the brisk air, the wind cool on his body yet the afternoon sun warm on his back.
He grabbed his water bag, taking a long drink from the gift Violet had given him. She seemed excited at its success, possibly thinking about venturing out in the crafts like her mother. She had taken to skinning the animals they had caught recently, possibly to create clothes or more niche items for them all when she had enough. He opened his eyes, slouching again as he tried to picture how an Atmo would put on pants. A soft laugh rolled from his chest as he worked the stiffness out of himself from long hours of electrical work that he was pretty sure he wasn’t qualified to do.
He took in the scenery, eyes noting every bush and outcropping of the mostly flat terrain. He had been up here several times since he brought back the components of the experimental communications array as his brother requested, each day a new attempt at fixing various error codes and rewiring sections to support the absurd power draw. His last call with Robert had been a simple checkup, letting him know he found the place and was looking to move in. His contact was unable to connect to the terminal with their security clearance, so he had sent some of his people to ‘repair’ it, upgrading it to support the new tech while they were at it to bypass security entirely. Soon enough, and after a lot more maintenance and electrical rerouting, he would be able to ask some questions and get some things done.
His eyes paused at a break in the monotonous meadow, a white biped wearing a deflated backpack was walking towards their new home. He waved to the familiar creature and after a pause, received the gesture in kind.
He was pretty surprised to see Pan again. She had left with an assortment of supplies he had figured her group would need after hearing, through the broken English she could manage in her tired state, that they were likely in much the same condition he had found her. His shock at hearing his language so far from home and not projected from a terrible third-party translator was overridden by his empathy.
Pan seemed genuinely terrified that her friends were suffering, seeming almost guilty that she was the only one receiving help. The look of hope on her face when he had given her an updated backpack with enough supplies to get them by, as well as a few snares and a quick explanation on where and how to set them up, was still fresh in his mind. Seeing her by herself was worrying, as it either meant that her friends had abandoned her under the pretense of deserting them to die or she had no friends to return to.
Joseph made sure everything was sealed back up before he moved towards the front of the hub where an integrated ladder had been installed near the facilities wing. Each rung groaned under his weight, threatening to give under his comparatively denser body. The gravity here being slightly heavier than it was on Earth only accentuating the problem.
He made it to the ground and waited for Pan to approach, using the opportunity to look for blood or injury that would imply she was violently expelled from her group. Finding none, he feared for the worst, mentally reminding himself to ask Mama to make more beds in case they became needed. If Pan didn’t make it to her friends in time, then he would take her in so she would have a safe place to mourn.
He jogged up to meet her as she drew close, ready to offer her a place in their family or some more supplies if she chose to be alone, when she stopped in front of him, kneeling to the ground and prostrating herself to him. “In honour of the code, the pack has sent this lowly one as a servant to repay our gratitude for saving our lives.”
Gears halted in his head as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to a watch mechanism. He was too stunned by the fluent language at first to register the contents, then felt the same shock apply itself again when he absorbed the implications. Her group had sent her as a slave? Were they a primitive tribal society of this planet? How did she learn his language so quickly? Why did his help earn him the right to this? Why the hell did anyone think it was a good idea? All he wanted to do was help someone in need, and upon finding out, their friends.
He sputtered as the questions barraged his mouth in a fight to be voiced first. A single question valiantly battled to the forefront in a display of his vastly superior intellect. “What?”
Pan rose to her knees, her eyes not looking at him but instead the ground between them. “Am I not suitable?” The fear and anguish in her voice radiated through the soft words, whispered as if volume would give the answer for her.
He opened his mouth to speak several times, each failing after a syllable of a statement or accusation that couldn’t gain purchase. He stopped to take a breath, both hands meeting in front of him as he used them to rub the bridge of his nose. A long exhale is all he allowed himself to organize his thoughts. “Let’s go inside, get something to eat. Mama should have it ready soon. We’ll have a meal, then you can fill me in on what the fuck just happened.”
Pan nodded, getting to her feet without looking at him.
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“So,” Joseph interjected, Pan didn’t like to talk much, but when she did it usually involved as much information as possible so that she wouldn’t need to do it again for a while. “I saved you, and gave you the supplies to save them. By doing that, saving them. Okay, with you so far.”
Mama laid out a tray of meat in front of Pan first, likely giving her the guest treatment. She scuttled off back to the facilities wing to grab the food for Joseph and grab her daughter from the ‘gym’. Pan stared down at the food quietly as he continued his summary. “In thanks for my actions, you guys decide to follow the closest available thing you have to an active law. That being an exemption from your military service and monetary compensation. Given that I'm not a member of your military; I can’t be exempted from it and none of you have money to reward me with nor the means in which to acquire it. Am I following you so far?”
Pan nodded. Violet entered the hub, sheaths slung over her shoulder after having been practising their latest set of movements. She bowed slightly towards Pan, resting herself next to him to his right at the table to wait for Mama to return.
“Okay. No exemption, no payout.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “So, your only recourse is an older law that hasn’t been active in God knows how long that states I am to receive a servant of your house. Lucky me, you guys have no homes nor servants. Which leads us to this. Is that right?”
Another nod from Pan, this one taking a moment as she tenses up at the irritation in his voice.
“And a simple alliance or peace agreement wasn’t on that table? Maybe just a portion of your hunting?” The clarifying question was met with further silence and a shake of the head at the last proposition.
Joseph took a deep breath. “No.” The word used every bit of air he had stored.
Pan shoots her eyes towards him, fear and hurt in equal portions. “I-if this l-lowly one is not t-to-” She sputtered, tears welling in her eyes.
Joseph cut her off before she could finish the thought with a raised palm. “Stop. Indentured servitude is a thing of the past for my people, so much so that it is distasteful if not taboo.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “If you guys are really that fucked for supplies and can’t support your numbers, I don’t mind putting up a friend or two for a while until everyone gets their feet under them. Hell, I wouldn’t mind if you had simply asked me if you could stay, we have more than enough room here for the three of us, and another set of hands is always nice to have around here.”
He leaned forward again, placing his elbows on the table as he fought to get comfortable on the awkwardly shaped chair. “What I will not do, is engage in any form of slavery. Traditions of your people be damned.”
Mama returned with trays for the rest of them resting against her blade, sliding them off in front of everyone’s chosen seating arrangement before taking her place on Joseph’s left. Violet presumably gave her the cliff notes for what she had missed. He cut Pan off again before she could dig herself into a hole. “These two saved my life,” He gestured to the two Atmo. “And asked nothing in return. I’m with them, not because I wished to serve them as repayment, but because I grew fond of them and wished to see them as my family. They were kind enough to treat me the same.”
He picked up a piece of leaf-squirrel, holding it in front of him, pointing at her with three fingers not needed to grip it. “I’ll extend that kindness to you. I don’t know why specifically you were chosen for this or what reasons you accepted it so readily, but obviously you’re too scared to go back now.”
Pan’s tears began running down her face, her mostly composed mask cracking at the seams. “But I'm defective. Surely you can tell by my scent.”
Joseph popped the chunk into his mouth, eyebrow raised. “whum du yew... sorry. What do you mean? I can’t smell anything besides the food. Thank you, Mama, by the way. Sorry, I forgot to say that.” Mama nodded appreciatively, purring at the recognition for her efforts. Violet quietly ate as she observed the conversation that didn’t involve either of them for once.
“You... You can’t smell it?” Pan’s voice was a mix of hope and doubt, an interesting combination to roll off her tongue.
“Nope.” He said simply, raising a hand to pet Violet. The Atmo purred under his scratching. “These assholes knew you were female before I did. I only found out when I...” His cheeks reddened slightly as he remembered. He cleared his throat in embarrassment. “Humans don’t use pheromones as extensively as some races. Almost to the point where it’s effectively a moot point. I think there’s some subconscious fuckery to do with comparing immune systems and the like when we kiss but it’s a non-factor. I’m only vaguely recalling reading that once so don’t quote me.”
Pan stared at the table, doubtful realization taking hold. “So, if I never said anything...”
“I’d never know.” He pointed his free hand loosely towards her as he completed the sentence. “Still don’t. I have no context for what makes you ‘defective’ nor do I care to ask. We all have our baggage and far be it from me to give a fuck what skeletons you have in your closet.” He finished pointedly, eating another chunk of meat.
Mama clicked at Pan in a reassuring tone, moving over to pat Pan on the back with her blade softly before returning to her meal. Pan, for her part, seemed stuck on what to say to that information, not registering the reassurance of the Atmo while silently mouthing something. Eventually she steeled her nerves. “Joseph?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“May I join your pack?” The voice was timid, weak, yet held the smallest of conviction.
He stopped himself from instantly accepting, as nice as it was to finally be able to understand the responses to his ramblings, he wanted to know what he was getting himself involved with. “I’ll assume that means you wish to be a part of our little family here?”
She nodded. “I would follow you under your leadership and your authority as the pack’s Grand Hunter.”
The additional information had him raise both eyebrows. “Grand Hunter? I take it that’s different from a simple authority figure in a group.”
“It is a title given to those who have allegiance sworn to them by their pack. Usually reserved for those who lead one of the greatest forces in a territory.” she confirmed.
“’Greatest forces in a territory’, huh? You are aware that we’re just a small group here, right? And I don’t lead these two, no oaths are in play. I treat them as if they were my own flesh and blood. We’re a family. Everyone’s thoughts get respected here.”
“Then that qualifies you even more. Caring for those under their protection is a foundation of the title.” She replied, shaking her head to dismiss his denial. “You lead these two from perilous times to prosperous residence here, if your stories are to be believed. You may not consider yourself their leader, but they certainly do, if not in different terms. Your pack would likely best the one I belonged to. Where you have thrived in this land, we have starved. Where we have but weak members consisting of only three experienced combatants, you have two with weapons far exceeding our ability to defend and we have watched you help them hone their skills, likely from your own experience.” She gestured to the two Atmo.
“So that was you guys.” He mulled the words over as he rubbed his neck, remembering the feeling of eyes being on him at various points in time. She nodded.
“I have no doubts in this. I would like to join you, if you would have me. I wish to stay, if not as a servant, then as a member of your ‘family’.” She finished quietly.
He dropped his head to the table, the small thump startling Pan. He felt like they were skipping over the ‘guest’ and ‘friend’ options, but at this point she was just as likely to wander off after seemingly being abandoned twice over in short order.
“Fuck it. We need someone to set up snares while I do the repairs and these two hate the cold.” He said into the table with an exasperated sigh. “Ground rules;” He tilted his head to look at her without removing his face from the cool metal. “No ‘lowly one’ bullshit. No throwing yourself into the fire on some self-sacrificing ploy for glory or honour, you’re better to us alive than dead, even if it’s on less-than-ideal terms. No servitude shit, but I expect you to pull your weight in some shape or form, and finally; I’m not infallible. I fuck up. I need someone to tell me when I'm about to shit the bed before I need to call a dry cleaner. Luckily for me, there’s someone here who can tell me that in a way I can understand.”
“You will accept me?” Her voice cracked as the tears ran through her dampened fur.
Joseph sat back up; a tired smile formed on his face as he rubbed the redness from his forehead. “Welcome to the family, Pan.”
She dropped to the floor, kneeling down with one fist pressed to the steel tiling below her. Her words rattled off in a foreign language, pausing near the end and staring at him expectantly before she caught on that he didn’t understand her. “Joseph, will you accept me under your care with the authority in which you hold?”
Noticing that the speech was likely much longer than the translated question, he stared for a moment. “That seems… formal. Do I need to? I didn’t think there would be more to this, thought it was pretty straight forward.”
Her unwavering stare was all that answered him.
He forced his eyes closed, hoping he wouldn’t regret accepting the terms and conditions or whatever she was saying. He prepared a deep breath, letting it all flow into his response. “I do.”
She closed her eyes and mumbled something in her native tongue before returning to her seat, eating for the first time since her food had been delivered. The weight that had been evident on her shoulders the whole time lessened as she finally relaxed, a small smile affixed to her face until one of curiosity superseded it. “Joseph?”
“Mmh?” He hummed, answering back.
“What does ‘fuck’ mean?”
He swallowed his food, taking yet another deep breath and sighing it out. “That... that is a fucking question.”