Fuzzies

Useful info;



Pronunciations:



Veriea: Verr-ree-a(i)



Ver’ei’a: Veh-e-ah



Forenien: For-en-ee-en



Vocabulary:



Kainde Amedha: hard meat/ xenomorph



Gaun-Thwei: night blood



Chiva: trial/ test



Setg’in kwei: tricky/ quick



Pyode Amedha: soft meat/ human (ooman)



Yeyinde: brave one



Pauk: fuck



Ell-osde c’jit: damn you



C’jit: damn/ shit/ general expletive



Pauk’de: fucking/ fucker



Hulij-bpe: crazy



Mei’hswei: brother (also use between close companions/clan mates)



Kerhite: training ground/training ring



Jehdin-jehdin: hand-to-hand combat (one-on-one)



Zazin: self-centered



Thwei’tek: blood bond (used to fuse strands of hair into dreadlocks)



M-di’h’dlak: no fear



Naxa: a kind of fruit from the Yautja home world



Enjoy the story ; P







= Chapter 5 – Scars and Dreadlocks =







It didn’t take Veriea as long as she thought it would to come grips with her new appearance.



She was definitely upset and not happy that she couldn’t change back to her forenien form but she reasoned that far worse and unpleasant things had happened to her and this was a walk in the park comparatively. It also seemed that being a yautja/fox-girl had its advantages and up sides.



Not only could she still use her magic, she had the additional yautja’s strength and could see heat like they could as well as in colour, which did take some getting use to (courtesy of a few walls and at the expense of a fair amount of her pride).



G’re’e’cha found her one of the extra sets of female clothes which consisted of an armored loincloth and a matching bra like piece, both made out of a material with the texture of soft leather but which stretched and moved with her body while still hugging firmly, almost like a second skin, putting her in the safe mind that she wasn’t going to ‘fall out’ of it. Which was a good thing considering that she had been informed by a surprisingly straight-face and also unfortunately ignorant G’re’e’cha that her (ahem) ‘milk glands’ were larger than the average female yautja’s. She had gotten the message through quite clearly that those kinds of blatant comments were not going to go unpunished.



She was considerably happier after doing so; she certainly hadn’t forgotten his idea of a good wake up call.



The clothing was decent enough, considering she usually only wore her fur but she liked that it showed off all her muscles, particularly the six-pack abs which her human form had definitely never had before – her new body certainly took after her forenien form more in that aspect.



Except for lack of fur, the heat vision and yautja hair, it was like being in her forenien form and she became comfortable with her new look fairly easily. And it did take care of the ‘exposed nipples’ problem.



It wasn’t long before their stomachs told them it was time to eat so they went down a level to the galley where Veriea was very pleased to find that a vast majority of the yautja’s diet was made up by meat, in many varying states of cooked from raw to very well done – medium rare being her favorite – and they dug in with gusto.



While they were eating though, she couldn’t help but notice the looks she was getting. Of the 21 yautja she had learnt were aboard the drop ship (7 young bloods, 6 blooded warriors, 2 honored warriors, 2 healers, the pilot, a tech worker, the Clan Leader and the Clan Elder) most of the young bloods were seen to be present, as well as a few of the blooded warriors and she felt as though they all had their eyes on her. It made her want to hide, particularly because they were all so much taller then her due to her recent change but Ma’e’ka’cha had warned her that if she showed weakness she would be more open to attack and others would be more likely to challenge her presence among them.



It seemed though, for the moment at least, that the young bloods were mostly awed by her – no doubt from the rumors that would be flying around about her – and the blooded warriors curious yet unconcerned about her. Maybe it was because they had heard the manner in which she killed the kainde amedha.



Then again, maybe it was all the scars; strange how this new body reflected all the past pains of the others.



Of course there was the one across her stomach from the kainde amedha’s tail blade and on her shoulders and hands from its claws but there were many, many more. Very few she had gotten in human form, they were only small, barely there ones; the rest she had gained in 3 short human years. Veriea forced the memories that started to rise up away, mad at herself for letting them creep forward and then noticed that one of the young bloods was behind her, obviously staring intently at her scars.



“What do you want?” She snapped, her voice coming out harder and angrier than she had intended as she turned to face him. The yautja started and backed away hastily.



“Nothing.” He said quickly and moved off, looking over his shoulder as though he expected to se her chase after him.



“You don’t like people looking at your scars?” G’re’e’cha asked conversationally.



“Not that closely.” She growled.



“Aww, and I wanted to see if there were any under that fur…” He grinned.



Veriea groaned.



Great. Just what she needed.



A yautja Furry.



“I have two words for you G’re’e’cha; testicle relocation.” Veriea realized that she had said the last part a little too loudly when she saw everyone in ear-shot flinch. Kind of made her wonder about the females of the species; they obviously they took these kind of threats seriously.



Except for G’re’e’cha, of course. He just laughed.



“That’s a new one! I can’t wait to see you use that on the older warriors once we get to the main ship.” He trilled.



“Yeah, right. Like they’d even be interested in me; I’m a completely different species.” She scoffed. “Well, sort of.” She added, frowning at G’re’e’cha’s open amusement.



“I wouldn’t be too sure.” Ma’e’ka’cha put in. “I’ve heard of some clans accepting oomans as warriors and having yautja mates. Ooman females at least.”



“Yeah and you look very tasty…” G’re’e’cha purred in her ear. Veriea kicked him in the shin and he started hopping around on one leg, supposedly howling in pain while many of the other yautja shook their heads and made incensed utterances.



“But that actually works?” Veriea asked over the noise G’re’e’cha was making as he floundered around. “Biologically?”



“From what I’ve heard.” Ma’e’ka’cha shrugged. “And given your new appearance as well as what you’ve done, to be perfectly honest, you probably would be rather appealing.”



“I don’t know of I should take that as a compliment or be grossed out ‘cause you’re my brother.”



“Just take it as a compliment, it’s easier and you should be aware that it is a likely possibility.” He shrugged again. “And you, stop over acting!” He growled at G’re’e’cha, who immediately stopped, as if nothing had happened in the first place.



“Oh well, she wasn’t paying any attention anyway.”



“And the reason you haven’t killed him yet is…?” Veriea asked Ma’e’ka’cha calmly, ignoring G’re’e’cha.



“I often wonder that myself.”



CCCCCCC



After having had their fill, the trio returned to Ma’e’ka’cha and Veriea’s quarters to plan the rest of their day. It was only a drop ship so there was no kerhite onboard, which meant there wasn’t much to do until they rejoined the main Clan Ship.



First they fixed the broken shelf (with many dirty looks in G’re’e’cha’s direction) and then they settled to the task of dread-locking Veriea’s hair, a very time consuming activity, while giving her a crash course on how she had to behave if she wanted to continue living once they rejoined the rest of yautja society.



“Never turn your back on someone, especially an Elder or another female.” G’re’e’cha emphasized, his fingers nimbly working through her hair. “That’s one of the most insulting things you can do and people won’t let you off with just a warning.”



“Well that’s easy enough to remember. Are the females really nine feet tall?” She asked, starting to piece together the reason behind the reactions to her earlier comment. It seemed that females were more than something to be reckoned with, particularly for any male concerned; it was a wonder to her, really, how the race managed to reproduce if this was the males’ outlook on the females.



“On average and more dangerous than the males, at least for other males; females have got a quicker temper and tend to want to settle the score straight away rather than wait to challenge an offender to jehdin-jehdin.” Ma’e’ka’cha said seriously, finishing a dreadlock. “It’s surprising that you’re so short.” He added thoughtfully.



“Well I’m younger than you two aren’t I? Only – what was it? – seven and a half rotations in your years?” She said logically.



“I suppose that would make you a tetchy little thing wouldn’t it?” G’re’e’cha teased, trying to ruffle her hair and messing up the dreadlock he was currently working on.



“I hate being little.” She growled sulkily and batted away his hand. “I’m always little.”



“You were bigger than us in your other form.”



“Not by much, and you two aren’t full grown yet. Even for a forenien I’m short; usually we’re around eight foot like you but I’m only just over seven. Now I’m barely over five.”



“You’ll probably grow too, you know and you’re part yautja now so that’s got to mean something.” G’re’e’cha commented, then looked thoughtful for a moment. “It might be a sore spot once we get to the main ship though; the Un-bloods will probably have a go at you. They always pick on the little ones.”



“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.” Veriea sympathized.



“Yeah. No one is your friend when you’re in the Pitts and the bottom of the pecking order. You don’t want to be the smallest in there.”



“We won’t have to stay there, will we?”



“No. The Pitts are for the un-bloods, perfect place for their training and squabbles. They might have a go at you but unless they actually challenge you, you can just ignore them; being blooded, those zazin pauk’des are below are notice.” G’re’e’cha grinned.



“That’s probably best since you aren’t actually trained yet.” Ma’e’ka’cha said, finishing another dreadlock.



“I am trained, just not in the same way as the yautja. I know plenty of un-armed combat; clean fighting, dirty fighting and otherwise.” Veriea insisted.



“Just prey you aren’t required to use it.” He looked over their work. “We’ve almost finished this. Put the thwei’tek on now, G’re’e’cha, so it’ll be dry when I get back with the clasps. Do you want gold or silver?” He asked, getting up and resting a hand on her shoulder. “If you want bone, you’ll have to hunt for them yourself.”



Gold, it’ll go well with the red and brown.” She answered as he walked out. The door slid shut after him just as G’re’e’cha slathered the thwei’tek onto her hair and started spreading it down the length of the dreadlocks.



“Finally.” He huffed.



“What?”



“We can talk about your scars.” He answered as he worked.



“And what makes you think I want to talk about them?” Veriea growled, warningly.



“They aren’t battle scars. Or at least most of them aren’t.” He clicked softly.



“How do you know?” She snarled in return, moving away as he finished his task. He gently touched one of the scars on her right upper arm, which circled around it.



“That was made by a binding being left and struggled against long enough to cut into the flesh, several times over. You have more like it on your legs and other arm.”



“So?”



“So, it takes weeks for something like that to form the kind of wound that leaves a scar as distinct as this; you were someone’s captive for a very long time.”



“What do you care?” Veriea hissed, his evaluation hitting to close to home. “You don’t even know me!”



“I respect you and consider you mei’hswei. I also believe that no female should be treated in such a way as to leave such marks.”



She could think of no reply and he continued. “I saw you take down the kainde amedha; your face showed the warrior inside; m-di’h’dlak. Even when faced with certain death you showed no fear and drove your opponent down, in a resourceful way no less, considering you were bound and un-armed. Yet when the other creatures had you, when you seemed so brave as you taunted them, any one who looked closely would be able to tell, you were really afraid. Why?”



“There are worse things than death, G’re’e’cha. Worse even than dishonor.” She whispered, not looking at him.



“Is that what happened here?” He reached over her shoulder, touching a set of scars which were high on her chest, below her collar bone. “These long ones were self-inflicted – hesitation marks and they match the correct angle – you were trying to get something out…and this one,” He traced one talon around the semi-circular mark in the middle of the others. “I noticed there’s a matching scar on your back, below the shoulder blade; whatever did this must have very nearly pierced your heart.” He reached down to her right arm again, to the long spiraling and dashed scar which was on her forearm.



She flinched reflexively. “This one still confuses me. The nearest thing I can think of would be some kind of branding but it’s not a burn mark…”



“How do you know all of this?” She asked softly.



“My bearer is a healer. I used to watch her tend to the injured and so I learnt a few things. Originally, I was going to follow in her foot steps but I decided I like the idea of having mates too much.”



“Whatever.” She muttered. “I don’t want to remember where these scars came from. Don’t mention them again and don’t tell Ma’e’ka’cha what you know, please.”



“Why?”



Veriea stood, getting angry with his intense inquisitiveness and rounded on him.



“You know nothing about my past! These scars are not honorable! They’re the marks of someone who was too weak!”



G’re’e’cha stood too, towering over her but remaining calm.



“If you were weak, you would not be here. You survived whatever gave you those marks. You escaped from those creatures you were running from, even though they were bigger and out numbered you and even though you were injured, ill-equipped and unprepared, you finished off the kainde amedha. If that does not prove that you are honorable, then no one is honorable.”



Again, she could not find something to say or more accurately, couldn’t find the words and she sank to the floor, her tail curling around her protectively of it’s own accord, as if trying to shield her from her own memories. How could she make him understand, realize, that it was only out of sheer stubbornness and desperation that she had killed the kainde amedha in what she had believed would be her last defiant act? That it was not, by any small amount, the first time she had attempted to escape what he had so aptly deemed ‘creatures’? That she hadn’t survived the processes that had marked her skin?



Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice G’re’e’cha’s approach and started with a jolt as gently rested his chin on her shoulder, after sitting quietly behind her.



“You’re in my personal space.” She mumbled half-heartedly.



“No, you’re in mine.” He smirked, his mandibles tickling her cheek as he spoke. She shot a glare at him. “Fine, so I am. So gut me. Your personal space is nice.”



She couldn’t help but grin and then shoved him away in a friendly manner.



“Trust you to turn that into an innuendo.”



“A what?”



“A suggestion.” She said pointedly, her mood picking up now that he had dropped the subject of her scars. He quirked the mandible again, understanding.



“It cheered you up though.”



“Of course. It’s hilarious that a person who’s known me less that a day is hitting on me.” She laughed.



“I’m not hitting you.” He said, confused. She shook her head in disbelief.



“It’s a slang term for…hinting at being interested in a female, like…more obvious flirting.” She tried to explain, hoping that he did know what flirting was.



“Ohhhhhhh.” A look of realization crossed his face before becoming confused again. “Why is that funny? You are interesting and it’s fun being able to tease a female without getting beat up.”



“You are really weird.” Veriea chuckled.



“Thank you.” G’re’e’cha smirked.



“Geeze, are all yautja like you?”



“No, most of them act like they have a naxa lodged in their butt or at least most of the males do. The females are usually ok unless you piss them off and the k’cha’ku females are really serious about training and hunts, like scary serious.”



“I thought all yautja were serious about the hunt?”



“We are but…you’ll know what I mean once you meet one.”



Veriea was about to reply when the door opened and Ma’e’ka’cha walked in.



“I’ve got the clasps. We’ll be docking with the Clan ship soon.” He announced. Veriea quickly forgot the earlier incident as they rushed to fix the clasps in her dreadlocks and prepared for docking.



She was feeling very bare walking beside them as they made their way to the air-lock, both of them fully decked out in their armor and weaponry. She felt especially small next to the large kainde amedha skull she was carrying, hanging down her back, her trophy. It wasn’t heavy, really, but she was very conscious of how ridiculous she looked toting something that was more than half her height around on her back, particularly when compared to the impressive sight her friends made doing the same thing.



When they joined the other yautja in the air lock, many gave her looks, some sympathetic, others cocky smirks. As they waited, a young blood behind her sniggered so she jammed her elbow into his stomach, which happened to be at the perfect striking height. He shut up, not making a sound past the ‘oof’ the air rushing from his lungs had made.



She smirked.



Maybe being little wasn’t quite so bad.



End - Ch 5



A/N: Hey! I hope you like this chapter. It's not really a cliffy ending but there's something fairly big comming in the next chapter so be excited! And did any get the clue droped in the last chapter? It was only small, but it was there!