When the Light of Breastmilk's kitchen stopped stabbing me in the retinas, I took in the tableau of the room. Two Mortons sat, tense, opposite the door to their female tribemate's bower. The Mortons were a strange bunch to my eyes - with three arms - one on each side, one in the center from their vaguely humanoid torso, and four legs positioned equidistant from one another around their radial, broad-based bodies. Their arms were long and spindly, and ended in four-fingered hands, positioned much like their legs were on their round-ish forearms, equidistant from each other. Their idea of clothing was a drape, something like a poncho, with their heads sticking out of the hole at the top. They had hairy or fuzzy undersides, and hair grew on the sides of their heads and on their faces, but nowhere else. Breastmilk was pale, not like snow but like cream, but the two males had a darker, ruddy bluish color to their skin.

Leader, a much larger figure than anyone else in the room, was probably older. His deep whiskey-colored hair was braided, and he had many scars - lighter lines and marks on his heavy frame. He was the one that Breastmilk showed me to first, and I felt somehow even MORE naked as the massive figure looked at me, leaning down with scarlet eyes to peer into my face.

Interpreter told me his expression was one of concern, and mildest disgust. He found me alien, I supposed, and I could not blame him at all. After all, he looked weird to me, so... fair enough. I was interested though, despite my discomfort, and my ears swiveled towards him as his eyes tracked their motion.

"Hello!" I said, and my voice sounded awful to me, gravely, raspy, and painful - it was, after breathing the fumes earlier. Their language... was a trilling, burbling thing - probably because they were cave dwellers, with thick percussive noises I could manage and whistling hisses I struggled with. Interpreter was incredible - it really was such a helpful Program!

Leader was taken aback, and he'd have agreed if he knew about it! "You speak as we the Bunglings do!" he said, and swallowed a mouthful of what smelled.. amazing. Analysis told me that food on the table had a lot of the building blocks that Maintenance needed, and the little control room of my head, in my semi-dazed state, let out a ragged cheer.

"Yes, Leader." I said haltingly, punctuated by my belly giving another gurgle of gimme!

Social took in the look he gave me, and told me he was satisfied with that response. He nodded at Breastmilk, and she set me beside the silent, watchful Sunwatcher carefully, propping me up to sit as I had done before. A plate of what looked very much like eggplants was set in front of me, and Breastmilk hooked a fingernail into one, splitting it carefully for me with a deliciously crispy noise - Social told me it was to let me see, and to show me how they did things.

Analysis went to town on it as my little nose wiggled excitedly - the casing was some kind of mycellium-based polymer that had been made by the reaction I'd seen earlier in her cooking pot, creating a crispy crust that was edible as well. The contents were... a lot like an egg roll - there was a fluffy plant matter inside made of shredded purple-blue succulent leaves that had a lot of good stuff in them. These were accompanied by bits of the same mushroom that had made the casing, and a root vegetable. This, Analysis informed me, was a staple foodstuff - it had everything it could tell that the Bunglings - the Mortons - needed, nutritionally.

The fact that a bowl of something sweet smelling and thick - and nutritionally unneccesary to them, but probably delicious - was placed in front of me as well, told me a lot about their culture in one go. They had specialized members of their society that did different things, and they cultivated a lot of different foodstuffs. Primitive was relative - the Mortons lived with the comforts of home.

Breastmilk was sharp, I decided, a clever lady. After I hesitated, she picked up one of the sausage things from her plate, and held the steaming morsel it in front of her mouth so I could see. With exaggerated motions, she darted her tongue out and pulled little fluffy blue clusters into her mouth. This was food, Social told me she was saying, you should eat some - and this is how!

As the two males and the female watched, I did so. I picked up the warm, heavy morsel she'd split for me, and lacking her dynamic tongue, used my lips and my own, simpler tongue to pull in some of the fluffy stuff too.

The taste took me a moment to process. On one hand, the tartness of the dish was a big surprise - the purplish-blue fibers had a zesty, lime-like quality, the root vegetable added a hearty, earthy note. The mushroom itself... well, had a mushroomy flavor! The gestalt of it was pleasant though, brought it all together into something, Analysis told me, was quite wholesome and... delicious, my tongue agreed!

"Sho goob!" I said, their language muffled and garbled by the morsel, but I couldn't help myself "omugoff!" and couldn't stop myself from tearing into the morsel of delicious food for anything - I was just too hungry.

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With a little squeek of delight, I took another bit and went to town, and Breastmilk sat straighter, lips drawing back from her teeth and eyes wrinkling in delight. The other two made the same expression, and we set to our meals. It seemed like the sauce... was for after we ate the interior of our sausages - which they called simply Baglets. The crust was tougher - even for them - and the sauce softened the mycellium back up again as it soaked into the nooks and crannies. They did so.. and I tried it too.

Another swirl of flavors assaulted my senses - the liquid was faintly luminescent and milky colored, and scooped up like a hearty jam. I had no idea what made this stuff... but it did indeed soften the hardened polymer casing of the Baglet into something I could eat without gnawing. Sweetness like a gummy bear mixed with the tingle of a carbonated beverage, a milky heartiness, and the thickness had me scooping it out with bits of baglet shell, and I could see the others were doing the same.

"Breastmilk, that was delicious." Leader said, and I could only agree mutely as I cleaned the bowl with my tingling tongue.

"Ears likes it, that is certain, oh Leader! Look how her ears sway." Sunwatcher said, and they made the puttering, barking noise of their laughter. I blinked at the set of them, and they only laughed more. Breastmilk though, she leaned down and...

... cleaned my face. As she got that close, as those lips parted and she let me see her many needle-sharp teeth, my body froze in fear, and on automatic my ears slicked back. The tongue came out, and she... well, she cleaned me up carefully, wicking stickiness from my snout with her many-phlanged and cilia-covered tongue with delicate motions as my heart raced like mad in purely prey animal terror.

She must have noticed - because when she stopped, she gave me a look that my Interpreter told me was concern.

"You are shaking, Ears. Did I hurt you?" she asked softly, and it took me a beat to get my rattling heart under control. I'm sure the Creators had reason to base components of my design on an ancient prey creature, a hearty little survivor called a Rabbit, but in moments like these, it was a heel.

"I'm- I'm ok" I managed. She glanced at my ears, and her lips pursed - a frown, Interpreter told me. "Just... startled me" I added. She assented to that, and placed her hand upon my head, right between the ears.

"Her ears are back. Does that mean she is angry?" Leader asked Breastmilk, who looked thoughtful.

"Tense, I think. Scared. She is shaking." she replied, still frowning.

"And I can understand you. I am sorry to worry you, it is alright - just startled me." I said, and the three of them stared. I smiled, showing my teeth and let my eyes wrinkle at the corners, and let my ears perk up again. This, Social judged, went over well, and thawed things a fair bit.

"Ears, there are things I want to know about you. You are in the care of Breastmilk, and we will not harm you, but I want to know things before more of my people are shown Ears." Leader said, and made direct eye contact.

"I will answer any question you ask me, Leader. Thank you for helping me." I said, and meant it.

This seemed to please Leader, who leaned all three arms onto the table. The other two mimiced the gesture, and so I did as well, my face drawing close to theirs.

Well... my ears did. I was a good two feet shorter than them, and I had to sit up a bit. Even so, Breastmilk and Sunwatcher smiled. Leader... just looked sternly at me.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

Why lie? "I am from... beyond the Sun, from a place past there." I said, because I'd never heard them talk about space, or planets. Maybe they had no concept? This news was met with a flaring of their eyes and a buzzing noise - shock, Interpreter told me.

"You are... not from Bunghole?" he said, and I shook my head. Social told me sternly he hadn't understood, and I affirmed it to him - he was right.

"How did you come? How do you travel in the sky?" his voice, social told me, was as shocked as he looked, undercut by that buzzing noise. Sunwatcher looked at me, and added in his tenor voice

"I saw a falling star, two tens and two days ago, and then Eight days ago, we met you! Was that you?"

"Probably. I have a..." how do you explain a starship to people like these? A knotty problem. I picked up the bowl I'd eaten from, and held it up in the circle for inspection. "Like this. It is like a bowl meant for flying, and for keeping me safe inside of it. There are many rocks around Bunghole, in the sky - and my flying bowl hit some, hurting it." I explained, to a circle of increasingly amused Mortons.

Breastmilk took her bowl gently from my hand, and gave me a look that Interpreter told me was teasing mistrust, eyes wrinkled in a smile at me. "Do not crash my bowl." she teased, and the other two seemed to think this was quite amusing. I gave them another exaggerated smile, and nodded.

"Your... flying bowl. It does not work now?" he said, leaning forward towards me again once the chuckles had subsided.

"No... it just needs me to bring it some things so it can heal." I said, and he made a 'huh' kind of gesture with his eyes and posture.

"It can heal?" he asked.

"Oh - yes. But it is badly hurt - and that will take a long time, I think. If I can help it, it will take less time." I said. We were getting there, I was certain!

Leader sat back, and looked... calculating. He was taking this in - he was no dull thinker, I was sure, but that look.. it worried me just a bit. Would he help?

"Sometimes we trade." he said at last. "There are other Bungling families, and they sometimes need things, and sometimes we need things. Sometimes they need fighting, but when they need fighting, they do not trade - they try to take, and so we take from them." he nodded. Social told me that he wanted to trade - that he intended to have me prove my good intentions against, what I felt, was reasonable mistrust given the apparent dubious friendliness of his neighbors. In exchange, implicit was the understanding he'd help me too.

I could work with that!

"I would be happy to trade." I affirmed, and gave a nod, ears and dark hair bobbing with the motion. Leader smiled at last, and placed a hand upon the top of my head.

"Then, we will trade. When you are better, I will take you to see Storyteller."

And that was that.