Eli dreamt of fire. He sprinted through sterile, gray corridors, their walls humming with the cold indifference of plastic and steel. Each airlock hissed open, spilling him into chasms of molten brimstone. The passages thronged with crew — faces twisted in terror, their screams melding into the thrum of his own pulse. Survive. Could they? Could he?
A flicker in his periphery halted him. He turned to face it, eyes straining against the dream's miasma. The shape was wrong — alien in its motion, its presence a jagged crack in reality. Fear coiled tight in his chest, but he stepped closer, driven by a grim need to unmask the thing that had razed his world, his friends, his future.
"Eeeee-liiiiii," it moaned, the sound scraping through the air like rusted metal. "Eeee-liiii, kʌ̂taaaa."
He jolted awake, still curled on the bed of furs he'd been pulled into the night before. Cold sweat clung to his skin, amplifying the chill that had replaced the heat from the previous day's fire. He laid motionless, eyes shut tight as he drew deep, deliberate breaths to pull himself free from the nightmare's grip. "Just a dream", he told himself. But the hollow reassurance rang false; the dream was memory, and the truth lingered: he might never go back.
It was then that he realized he was hugging something soft. Exquisitely soft. He flexed his fingers, still half asleep as he twined his fingers into the warm, downy pillow in his grasp.
"Eeelii~" a nearby voice murmured.
He pulled his eyelids open as the sound roused him from the last grips of slumber. Cream — no, Tia, he corrected — had its back pressed firmly to his chest, his arm looped around its midsection like an anchor. It cradled his wrist in its palm, twisting its neck to glance at him from an awkward angle. Tia's expression was gentle, but carried an unfamiliar expression that Eli couldn't quite place; happy, or perhaps amused?
Eyes wide, he jerked his arm away with a start. A creeping sense of unease advanced upon his mind; Tia didn't seem worried, but casually cuddling with some aliens he'd just met was much too intimate for Eli. He rolled instinctively to the side, desperate for distance — only to land squarely on something equally soft.
A shrill, distressed chirp cut through the air as Red — or Folly, he remembered — squawked with surprise and outrage beneath him. Sharp pinpricks flared along Eli's back as it flailed to dislodge him, its protests spilling into a torrent of alien curses that needed no translation. Eli yelped, scrambling off the furious creature and stumbling to his feet, pulse racing anew.
Tia sat up and giggled an airy "shi-shi-shi-shi" at the scene. Folly shot to its feet as well, and began indignantly grooming its ruffled feathers while stomping annoyedly in a tight circle of rage. Nearby, Suda and Oreo stirred, blinking sleepily at the chaos as though it were nothing more than a passing breeze.
Eli stumbled back, mind still tangled amid the haze of sleep and chaos. He frowned as he fumbled for words, looking for anything to defuse the tension. Folly's glare pinned him in place, its wings half-spread in a silent warning. Then it turned away with a sharp, dismissive click, tail flicking in irritation as it returned to grooming. Before he could process further, Tia leaned forward with a soft trill of amusement, its upper ears swiveling toward Eli as though inviting him to laugh along.
A steady hum from Suda seemed to ease the tension like a balm. Rising with calm authority, it stretched its wings in one fluid motion before padding over to Folly. A gentle exchange of chirps passed between them, and Folly's rigid stance eased. Its tail, no longer lashing, settled into slow, rhythmic sways.
Eli exhaled, shoulders sagging as the commotion settled into calm. His pulse steadied, and a faint, sheepish smile tugged at his lips despite the lingering awkwardness. He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at the group with an apologetic shrug. With a quiet sigh, he muttered to himself, "Guess I'll be more careful next time," though he doubted anyone understood the words.
Tia's giggle turned into a bright trill of approval, and even Folly looked back at him with a begrudging pout. Eli shifted in place, unsure of how to continue but relieved by the apparent levity in the situation.
As the warmth of sleep and lingering concern from the encounter faded, though, he felt a familiar gnawing grow at the back of his mind once again. His nightmare, and the grim memories of reality it drew from, refused to be ignored. He worked his jaw nervously as his gaze darted around the yurt, seeking refuge. It landed on the exit.
Tia's ears twitched as Eli forced himself to walk calmly past, its head tilting curiously. Suda rumbled softly, a sound low and soothing, but made no move to stop him. Eli ducked through the tent flap, and the cold struck him instantly, needling his skin as it chased away the lingering warmth of the yurt. He inhaled, the air crisp and frigid, clawing at his lungs with each breath. It was a welcome discomfort to him; the cold gave him something else to focus on, a real and present discomfort to anchor himself against memories of a problem he couldn't solve.
His feet crunched through the shallow drifts as he moved away from the yurt, the biting cold sinking deep into his bare skin. His breath puffed out in white plumes, rising quickly to meet the crisp morning air. The frozen earth clawed at him, stealing what little warmth remained — he'd almost forgotten that his boots had been lost in the chaos. But he pushed the discomfort aside, his thoughts still reeling.
He scanned the snowy expanse before him, searching for something, anything to ground him, to pull him from the gnawing pit in his stomach. The pale sun, barely crested above the horizon, cast jagged shadows that sliced through the empty tundra. The landscape stretched on, a vast, indifferent expanse that seemed somehow more heartless than the cold void of space itself. There was nothing to focus on. Nothing but the cold, the barren ice, the aching silence. The image of his home, broken and burning in the sky, surged to the surface once more. Eli clenched his jaw, a sharp sting of panic rising, but he shoved it back down.
Focus. Focus on something real.
He tilted his head back, eyes tracing along the wispy clouds that punctuated the wide, empty sky. His worries smothered all other thoughts as he stood, the sun pale and distant against the dull hues above. Time blurred until the cold crept into his fingers and toes, dulling them to numbness until a solemn chirp pulled him from his trance. Suda emerged from the yurt, its steps almost silent in the snow. It cradled two steaming teacups, wisps of vapor curling into the frigid air. Concern etched its features as it extended one cup to him, gently proffering it into the air before him. Gratitude surged in his chest as the caring gesture loosened dread's grip on him; he may have been stranded, but he was not alone. Tenuous as the connection was, it was enough.
He took the cup, the warmth of it seeping into his frozen hands, grounding him in a way the cold couldn't. Suda's eyes met his, the silent understanding in its eyes clear despite the chasm of language between them. Eli gave a small nod, the knot in his chest unraveling just slightly, and took a few sips of the drink. The bitter warmth cut through the haze, leaving behind a strange buzz as his thoughts sharpened with unnatural, lucid focus. He exhaled, the breath steady and deliberate, welcoming the clarity despite its unfamiliar edge.
Eli winced as his returning awareness made him acutely aware of the growing pain in his extremities. He looked back to Suda, then to the tent. The alien, as if reading his mind, gently took his free hand. Its touch was firm but careful, guiding him toward the warmth of the tent.
When he returned, he found the tent thrumming with energy. Folly and Tia chattered excitedly as they loaded the satchel from the previous day with supplies. Oreo was stationed at the brazier, grilling various foods and stuffing them into hollowed-out mushroom caps. The sight was oddly comforting to Eli, a strangely domestic routine in a world that shouldn't have felt like home.
He continued to drink as Suda called for his attention once again. It crouched by the pile of provisions, gesturing to an open sack. Eli approached and peered inside to find it nearly empty, save for a handful of dried meat scraps. Suda looked at it with a frown and let out a quiet, prolonged trill of dissatisfaction. "It's unhappy," he thought, "are they low on food?"
Suda didn't wait. It gestured to the ground as it carved clean, shallow lines into the packed earth. Eli crouched, watching as the shapes took form: first came a fat, squat hexapodal creature with flat tusks. Next, a small stick figure, clearly depicting one of Suda's kind, holding an arrow aloft. It proceeded to draw more arrows, some in flight, some sticking out of the beast. "Spears..." he murmured, ideas forming in his mind as he tried to gauge the meaning of the pictogram. Suda glanced at him curiously, but continued. With careful strokes, it etched a new figure — crude, but unmistakably human — standing alongside the smaller figure.
Eli's brow furrowed as he looked at the figures, eyes tracing the lines as he pieced together their meaning. Suda's expression seemed both patient and expectant, but there was an unmistakable undertone of something else. Urgency? The meaning was clear enough to him, at least — a hunt. The beast, the hunters, and now, a third figure — him. He pointed to the crude stick-figure, and then to himself as he tilted his head. Suda nodded in response and let out a soft but encouraging trill.
"You want me to join?" Eli replied more out of reflex than expectation. Suda's eyes narrowed in something that might have been amusement, but it was difficult to tell through the alien expression. It gestured with clawed hands toward the open landscape outside the yurt.
The quiet between them stretched as Eli paused to think. He knew the aliens could hunt without him — they'd clearly done so before he'd arrived — but there was something else in the offer. It wasn't a demand, but a request. A gesture of inclusion, perhaps? Or simply a curiosity about him, about humans? Eli could feel his thoughts shift within himself as the tea continued to hum in his system, helping him focus through the unknowns.
He paused as understanding crystallized in his mind. The urge to reclaim control — not for the others, but for himself — rose to the surface. He realized his dread stemmed from the helplessness that had torn at him since the crash, and this hunt offered a chance to fight back, to stop existing as a passive survivor. He exhaled as the weight of his thoughts settled into resolve, and gave Suda a quiet but resolute nod.
It trilled happily in response to his nod, then stepped in close to his chest. It planted both palms on his midsection to gently urge him closer to Folly and Tia. The two had finished packing, and now stood with crude spears slung over their backs; sleek, tarnished metal with freshly sharpened blades, the kind of weapons that told a story of necessity rather than design. Eli let out a nervous hum, at first unthinkingly but then intentionally as he realized it would mean going out into the cold without protection.
Suda caught his hesitation and immediately turned, motioning for him to wait. It moved swiftly to a nondescript sack in the corner, rummaging through it for a moment before retrieving the overalls and boots Eli had worn when they first met. It presented them to him, holding it out with an innocent, gentle smile.
His eyes flicked over the garments. They were folded with deliberate care, as though they had taken care to preserve them long before they knew they would be returning them. It wasn't a gift, not in the traditional sense — but it carried a quiet respect, a recognition that these were his, and they were being returned to him. A fleeting but genuine smile flashed across his face before he let it fade and stepped forward to dress.
His gaze drifted to Oreo, who was fiddling with a small, gleaming tool. He blinked, then patted his overall pockets — empty. That was his multi-tool, the same one his engineering crew had gifted him on the day he was hired. The urge to retrieve it stirred in his mind, but he quickly set the thought aside. He would trust them for now, and think of it later.
Once he finished reassembling himself, Suda presented a round cloth with a hole in the center, clearly cut for him while he was dressing. It was too small to serve as a proper cloak, but Eli quickly realized it was meant to be worn like a poncho. He slipped it over his head, the rough fabric barely reaching his chest. Suda nodded approvingly as Eli adjusted it, tucking the edges in to keep it from slipping. Then, without hesitation, it moved to wrap strips of cloth around Eli's arms, swaddling them until only his fingers remained exposed. Once done with the arm wraps, Suda presented a large sash. Eli draped it over his shoulders and tied it around his torso, securing it with Suda's help.
Stolen story; please report.
The patchwork garments were too small and awkward, but the cold grew less insistent with each layer. He stood, taking in his ragged appearance in the rough fabrics, and couldn't help but feel a disoriented sense of amusement. He looked like something the wind might have left behind — nothing more than scraps of humanity stitched together by necessity. But warmth spread beneath the absurdity, a quiet comfort in its own strange way.
Folly and Tia approached as Suda stepped back. Folly extended a hand, offering Eli a steaming stuffed mushroom. The fungal, savory scent reminded him he hadn't yet eaten, momentarily distracting him from the cold. He accepted it with a nod
Evidently satisfied, Folly pointed toward the exit with a quick, decisive motion. The meaning was clear: it was time to go.
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Eli nibbled on the warm food as they traveled. His gaze was turned skyward, watching Tia fly as it scouted in gentle arcs a hundred or so meters in the air. Folly walked with him, though out of pity, companionship, or routine he couldn't say. The quiet camaraderie felt strangely natural, though, and as he trudged forward he realized how starkly this trek differed from the harrowing walk he'd endured before. With Folly and Tia nearby, even at a distance, the oppressive isolation was gone, replaced by an alien but unmistakable sense of safety.
The makeshift wrappings proved their worth as the group pressed onward. They couldn't fend off the chill completely, but paired with his overalls and boots they softened the air's frigid bite into a bearable, gnawing chill. His breath puffed into fleeting clouds as his eyes wandered across the tundra, taking in jagged ridges that stretched into the horizon, their sharp outlines softened by distance and broken only by the occasional tuft of stubborn vegetation. In the far distance, a faint plume of smoke curled into the sky from behind a ridge. Eli lingered on it for a moment, guessing it came from another raptor pack, but the sight didn't strike him as unusual — just another raptor pack, he thought as he dismissed it and pressed on.
Folly's gaze remained fixed ahead, ears flicking restlessly as it tracked Tia's faint, barely perceptible chirps from above. A mix of emotion and impatience underscored its every movement as it seemed to prepare itself for the hunt. Eli glanced at it, watching the way its feathers shimmered in the bright sunlight. The raptor turned to meet his eyes, determination written on its face, and let out a low, resonant hum. He nodded back and repeated the sound, earning a proud puff of Folly's chest before it pressed forward, undaunted.
The air grew quieter as Tia's shadow passed over them once again, its sharp eyes combing the terrain below. Without warning, it screeched — a piercing cry even Eli could hear — and swooped low, wings cutting through the air as it began to circle around in the middle distance. Folly picked up the pace, feet slamming into the ground as it broke into a run. Eli scrambled to keep pace while scanning the area ahead of him. In the distance, a creature came into view. It seemed to match Suda's depiction: it stood almost at his own height, supported by six stubby legs. Its smooth, domed head bore two wide, flat tusks, which it was using to dig methodically at the clay earth.
Folly slowed as they approached, coming to a stop a short distance from the beast. It turned to Eli, then back to the beast, and shook its head slowly. A soft, almost pleading trill came from its lips as it gestured for Eli to hold back and watch. "Pùuh!", it said with a firm shake of its lower ears. Its tone was clear, even without words — it wanted him to stay put. Eli wrestled with the urge to step forward, to contribute, to claim some agency bubbling just beneath the surface. But he could see the sense in Folly's caution. Unarmed, and with little understanding of the hunt, charging in felt too reckless. Swallowing his frustration, he gave Folly a reluctant nod and hung back, watching intently as the raptor readied itself.
The wind picked up, slicing through the stillness with a frigid bite, but he barely noticed. His focus was locked on the creature ahead, its dark, beady eyes focused on furrowing the ground for food, unaware of the imminent threat. Folly slung the spear from its back, gripping it loosely in both clawed hands. Tia didn't seem to be able to while in flight, given that its wings were attached to its arms. Instead, it let out a loud, piercing whistle — a signal which prompted Folly into action. It sprinted forwards, directly into the beast's field of vision. The beast reared as Folly approached and turned away, frantically attempting to run from the much smaller threat. Eli's chest tightened for a moment at the brash tactic, until he flicked his eyes up to Tia. Without the need for its wings, it gripped its own spear tightly, diving with precision toward the now-panicked prey.
Tia accelerated as the beast fled, its attention locked on the predator at its heels, oblivious to the danger descending from above. Without slowing or bracing for impact, Tia drove its gleaming spear into the creature's leathery hide. The beast let out a piercing squeal, twisting in pain as Tia raked its sharp foot claws down its flank in a calculated, relentless strike.
The savage display made Eli gasp in awe. The raptors' small stature belied their ability to hunt, and this maneuver seemed so well-practiced it might as well have been second nature. He watched with rapt attention as Folly seized the distraction to launch forwards, its powerful legs leaving depressions in the ground from the force of its movement. It lifted its own spear over its head, aiming for the creature's neck.
The leatherback reared again, forcing Tia to pull its spear free and take flight to avoid a counter-attack. Folly adjusted, but not quickly enough. The spear struck true, burying itself in the creature's neck, but it wasn't deep enough to be fatal. The beast let out another agonized squeal, stumbling but still on its feet, blood darkening the frosted ground beneath it.
Trickles of blood welled from its wounds, but the pain seemed to fuel its rage rather than subdue it. With a guttural bellow it stumbled and swung its bulk wildly, nearly slamming into Folly, who was forced to tumble backward to avoid the crushing impact. The raptor landed on its haunches several meters away, breath heaving as it scrambled to recover, but with its spear still lodged in the beast's neck, it was left defenseless except for its talons.
Eli's pulse quickened as he watched the scene unfold. The leatherback, bleeding and enraged, pawed at the ground with nervous energy, its beady eyes flicking between its tormentors. Tia, circling overhead, dove again with its spear aimed for the beast's exposed flank. Just as it committed to the strike, the leatherback let out an enraged screech and surged into a sudden charge directly at Folly.
The sudden shift in its movements threw Tia off course. It let out a frenetic chirp and hastily unfurled its wings, aborting the dive into a rough glide to avoid colliding with the ground where the beast previously stood. The beast paid no notice to it, however, and kept its focus on Folly, its tusks low to the ground, the sheer bulk of its frame barreling forward like a battering ram.
Folly tried to scramble out of the way, claws digging into the icy soil, but it was too late. The beast's tusk slammed into the small raptor's side, the impact sending a sickening thud reverberating through the air. A pained scream tore from his friend's throat as a little red streak flew across his vision. Eli's breath hitched in his throat as he saw it land in a crumpled heap a dozen meters away.
The beast skidded to a halt, throwing chunks of permafrost in its wake, and barely a heartbeat later began another charge at Folly's unmoving body.
Eli's heart pounded like a sledgehammer against steel, each beat deafening in his ears as time stretched into a surreal crawl. The wind howled and the ground trembled with the beast's charge, but all Eli could hear was his own shallow, rapid breathing. His thoughts spun in a storm of panic — Folly was down, vulnerable, about to be trampled. Every instinct screamed at him to act, to rush in and do something, anything, but his limbs felt like lead, frozen by the weight of fear. This wasn't his world, these weren't his rules. He was an engineer, he was never taught how to fight, and yet beneath the panic a quiet fury began to simmer. He wasn't going to freeze now. He needed to act, not just for his new friends, but for himself — for the raw need to not be powerless. His hands clenched at his sides. "Move," he commanded himself, fear be damned.
He flung the half-eaten food to the side and broke into a dead sprint. Each step tore into the ground, the planet's low gravity turning each step into a leaping catapult. He had no clue what he'd do, but he was approaching fast. His mind surged as he grasped at his options. Then he saw it — Folly's spear, still lodged in the beast's neck. "The spear," he thought, legs burning as he pushed himself forward. It seemed almost simple — grab it, thrust, just like Tia. But as his hand reached out, the sheer momentum of his movement outpaced his ability to control it. His fingers brushed the spear's handle, but instead of securing it, his body slammed into the butt of the weapon with bone-jarring impact.
Pain exploded in his chest as the force of the impact pushed the spear deeper into the beast's neck with a sickening crunch as something vital snapped inside. The creature let out a gurgling wheeze, legs wobbling, before rattling out a final, desperate wheeze and collapsing lifeless onto the frozen tundra. Eli stood there for a moment, stunned and wheezing, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. The rush of adrenaline arced through his limbs, leaving him quaking, but his stunned stillness was brief — his thoughts jolted back to Folly. Without another moment's hesitation, he turned toward his fallen friend, raw fear giving way to concern.
He rushed to Folly’s side just as Tia swooped to land nearby. Relief washed over him as he saw the raptor still breathing. He extended a trembling hand, fingers shaking as much from the cold as the adrenaline still coursing through him. Folly's eyes met his, a complex blend of pain and gratitude within them. After a moment of hesitation it extended a clawed hand, gripping Eli's firmly despite the effort it took. Eli pulled gently, mindful of Folly's injuries, and eased the creature to its feet.
Folly leaned heavily against him, breaths shallow and labored, but it managed a faint chirp of thanks. Tia approached, its feathers puffed up in concern, and lowered its head to Folly. The two exchanged a slow, deliberate nuzzle, Tia's movements tender, almost apologetic. The moment stretched as the three shared a moment to breathe, leaning on each other as best they could while the rush of combat faded.
Once the dust settled, the raptors' attention shifted from Eli to the carcass of the beast sprawled on the frozen ground, their eyes flicking back and forth between the lifeless creature and him with mouths agape. Folly cautiously approached the fallen beast, reaching for the spear still embedded in its thick neck, but after a brief tug, the weapon barely budged, the creature's hide clinging stubbornly to the blade. Folly tried again, straining harder this time, but its strength faltered under the weight of its injuries, and with a chirp of frustration it turned back to Eli, eyes pleading. Tia chirped, stepping closer as though ready to assist, but stopped short, its gaze lingering expectantly on Eli instead.
He approached cautiously, his own muscles still trembling from exertion. The spear loomed before him, its shaft slick with blood, wedged deep into bone and flesh. He hesitated, unsure if he could succeed where Folly had failed, but their eyes on him stirred something in his chest. Without a word, he gripped the spear tightly, bracing himself. The metal shaft felt solid, stalwart against his grasp. He planted his boots firmly and pulled. At first, nothing happened, and he thought perhaps he would fail, but then something shifted. With a sudden jerk, the spear came free, the force nearly throwing him off balance. A wet, crunching sound accompanied its release, and Eli stumbled back a step, holding the bloody weapon aloft.
Folly and Tia both trilled loudly, their expressions a mixture of awe and surprise. Tia's tail swayed with excitement, while Folly tilted its head, blinking as though it were witnessing something profound. Eli let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, then lowered the spear and handed it carefully back to Folly.
Without further hesitation, the pair moved to the beast's body. Tia began making quick, precise cuts with its talons and spear, while Folly slowly labored to eviscerate the remains. Eli stood and watched, unsure of how to help, but they didn't seem to expect him to. Every motion of theirs was deliberate and practiced as they worked together to discard the parts of the beast they couldn't eat. He tightened his wrappings against the wind, clutching his arms, and watched as his companions worked, preparing for whatever came next.
Minutes passed in quiet, determined silence as Eli's gaze wandered to the growing pile of discarded flesh and entrails. Despite their efficiency, it became clear they were leaving behind a substantial portion — perfectly edible, from what he could tell. Tia carved away sections with deft precision, while Folly set aside only what could be easily carried. The rest — whole slabs of muscle and sinew — was tossed aside without ceremony. Eli frowned, his practical instincts stirring. The low gravity seemed like it'd work in his favor, and even with the creature's massive size, he doubted it would be impossible for him to carry the remains.
Before he could second guess himself, Eli stepped forward and knelt by the carcass. Both Tia and Folly froze mid-motion, watching as he reached out and grabbed hold of the remaining large carcass, gutted and separated from most of its limbs. The raw, wet texture of freshly butchered meat made his stomach churn, and the visceral squelch as he gripped the body was almost enough to make him recoil. He paused, swallowing his discomfort, and pushed forward. With a grunt, he squatted low and hoisted the gutted creature onto his shoulders. Its weight pressed down against him, heavier than anything he'd ever carried back home, but manageable here on this planet. He adjusted his footing, trying to ignore the warm slickness seeping through his wrappings, and slowly stood.
Tia let out a sharp, trilling chirp, its wings half-spread in surprise. Folly blinked rapidly, its crest rising and falling as it stared at Eli in shock. The two exchanged quick, urgent words, as though they were trying to comprehend what they'd just witnessed. Eli glanced at them, offering a weak, strained smile as he shifted the weight on his shoulders. His legs burned slightly with the effort, but he found he could still walk.
He took a few steps forward, the gutted carcass wobbling slightly with each motion. "We can take it all," Eli said aloud, knowing they couldn't understand him but hoping his actions would bridge the gap. He gestured toward the discarded meat with his head, then back at the creature on his shoulders. Tia and Folly exchanged another series of whistles, this time softer, tinged with what Eli guessed was a mix of disbelief and admiration. The two jumped to work; Tia unfurled a tightly-folded sack from its satchel, and the two began cramming much of the discarded meat into it.
The three set off without further delay, the low gravity making the trek barely manageable for Eli despite his awkward, blood-slick burden. The gutted creature's weight pressed down on him with every step, but he focused on his breathing and the steady crunch of the frozen ground beneath his boots. Folly limped beside him, leaning slightly on its spear for support, and Tia joined them on foot, constantly checking to make sure the two of them could continue. Slowly, but surely, they made their way back to the yurt.
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image [https://cdn.foxy.art/AvaliStickFigure_Leatherback.png]