The chime sounded again,
signaling the end of the lecture, and meal-time. He sighed as he gathered up
his view-glyphographic, his satchel, and his texts, and prepared himself for
another awkward, harrowing meal, enduring her advances. Ro-Becilo’Ran was not
in this lecture with him. That meant he had to get by Gotra Pelani’Dun by
himself, as she had managed to get to the exit first. But when he got to the
entrance, she was nowhere to be seen.
Whorl Sixteen
In the meal hall, Ro-Becilo’Ran
waved to him, and he went over to the seat his friends had saved for him. Gotra
Pelani’Dun was not there, at the crowded table, but was seated farther away.
Breathing a sigh of relief, he sat and smiled. His elytra-pace, clamped tight
with stress, relaxed.
“Oh ha, Kreceno’Tiv,” Thynnu
Alciai’Res said, smiling back at him. “You look good.”
He gestured
self-deprecatingly. “As opposed to short and under-developed?”
She clacked her elytra-pace,
turned a shoulder. “You still looked good, short. You were just so – involved
with Gotra Pelani’Dun, none of the rest of us had a chance to fix your
interest!”
He raised a vuu-brow at her,
un-tucked a vuu’erio tennae. Her scent was sweet, and subtle, inviting. “And do
you want to fix my interest?” he asked, intrigued. She was pretty, and smart –
he would not mind a pre-mating with her, though he doubted it would go
anywhere. The prospect of Tertius generally terminated many pre-matings.
“Perhaps,” she said, coyly,
waving her vuu’erio tennae at him, her scent becoming a little stronger. He let
himself react to it, taking on the faint blue and black Thynnu markings that
would match her. Then she threw a look over her shoulder at Gotra Pelani’Dun,
and her scent faded. “Though, I’m not sure I want to brave Gotra anger. But for
you – perhaps.”
He smiled thinly, feeling
anger bubble up again as the color and physique changes went away. Now Gotra
Pelani’Dun was affecting his chances with other girls? He wanted to clack his elytra-pace
in that anger, but he did not. Instead he turned his mind to what the others in
the group were talking about. Maybe Thynnu Alciai’Res would pursue her interest
of him, despite Gotra Pelani’Dun’s interference.
“And you should see the
newest exhibits at Bustani ,” Yaliano’Wis was saying, his vuu’erio tennae
waving. “They have sentients from other worlds there! You can actually
talk to them, though they can’t speak a word of our language!”
Sentients? Kreceno’Tiv felt a strange, unpleasant jolt at that, anger forgotten. That
sounded a little too much like mfanya-slaves from the long-ago times. But he
said nothing, not right then, too shocked to think of anything to say.
Whorl Seventeen
“Krece,” a soft voice said
behind him, as he made his way to his locked cubby at the end of another long
five-turn, to leave the texts he did not require here at the Secondus sub-Hives.
He stiffened. An icy-hot indignation made his elytra-pace tighten at the familiar
voice and the too-familiar appellation. Gotra Pelani’Dun. He did not react to
her chemi-scent marker, but he did react to being addressed so, by her.
She had once had the freedom to use the affectionate appellation. But she had ended
their relationship, and now had no right to call him that, since he was not Gotrar-marked
or physiqued for her anymore. It was unseemly, disrespectful, implying a
closeness that was no longer there. The disapprobation he felt projected
clearly, as he slowly opened the cubby, put his texts in, closed it, and turned
to face her.
Gotra Pelani’Dun looked abashed
at his scowl of disapproval, taking a step back. “Kreceno’Tiv,” she said more
formally, lifting her shoulders in a contrite gesture. This made other parts of
her anatomy rise and move, but he was not distracted by them, and kept his eyes
on
signaling the end of the lecture, and meal-time. He sighed as he gathered up
his view-glyphographic, his satchel, and his texts, and prepared himself for
another awkward, harrowing meal, enduring her advances. Ro-Becilo’Ran was not
in this lecture with him. That meant he had to get by Gotra Pelani’Dun by
himself, as she had managed to get to the exit first. But when he got to the
entrance, she was nowhere to be seen.
Whorl Sixteen
In the meal hall, Ro-Becilo’Ran
waved to him, and he went over to the seat his friends had saved for him. Gotra
Pelani’Dun was not there, at the crowded table, but was seated farther away.
Breathing a sigh of relief, he sat and smiled. His elytra-pace, clamped tight
with stress, relaxed.
“Oh ha, Kreceno’Tiv,” Thynnu
Alciai’Res said, smiling back at him. “You look good.”
He gestured
self-deprecatingly. “As opposed to short and under-developed?”
She clacked her elytra-pace,
turned a shoulder. “You still looked good, short. You were just so – involved
with Gotra Pelani’Dun, none of the rest of us had a chance to fix your
interest!”
He raised a vuu-brow at her,
un-tucked a vuu’erio tennae. Her scent was sweet, and subtle, inviting. “And do
you want to fix my interest?” he asked, intrigued. She was pretty, and smart –
he would not mind a pre-mating with her, though he doubted it would go
anywhere. The prospect of Tertius generally terminated many pre-matings.
“Perhaps,” she said, coyly,
waving her vuu’erio tennae at him, her scent becoming a little stronger. He let
himself react to it, taking on the faint blue and black Thynnu markings that
would match her. Then she threw a look over her shoulder at Gotra Pelani’Dun,
and her scent faded. “Though, I’m not sure I want to brave Gotra anger. But for
you – perhaps.”
He smiled thinly, feeling
anger bubble up again as the color and physique changes went away. Now Gotra
Pelani’Dun was affecting his chances with other girls? He wanted to clack his elytra-pace
in that anger, but he did not. Instead he turned his mind to what the others in
the group were talking about. Maybe Thynnu Alciai’Res would pursue her interest
of him, despite Gotra Pelani’Dun’s interference.
“And you should see the
newest exhibits at Bustani ,” Yaliano’Wis was saying, his vuu’erio tennae
waving. “They have sentients from other worlds there! You can actually
talk to them, though they can’t speak a word of our language!”
Sentients? Kreceno’Tiv felt a strange, unpleasant jolt at that, anger forgotten. That
sounded a little too much like mfanya-slaves from the long-ago times. But he
said nothing, not right then, too shocked to think of anything to say.
Whorl Seventeen
“Krece,” a soft voice said
behind him, as he made his way to his locked cubby at the end of another long
five-turn, to leave the texts he did not require here at the Secondus sub-Hives.
He stiffened. An icy-hot indignation made his elytra-pace tighten at the familiar
voice and the too-familiar appellation. Gotra Pelani’Dun. He did not react to
her chemi-scent marker, but he did react to being addressed so, by her.
She had once had the freedom to use the affectionate appellation. But she had ended
their relationship, and now had no right to call him that, since he was not Gotrar-marked
or physiqued for her anymore. It was unseemly, disrespectful, implying a
closeness that was no longer there. The disapprobation he felt projected
clearly, as he slowly opened the cubby, put his texts in, closed it, and turned
to face her.
Gotra Pelani’Dun looked abashed
at his scowl of disapproval, taking a step back. “Kreceno’Tiv,” she said more
formally, lifting her shoulders in a contrite gesture. This made other parts of
her anatomy rise and move, but he was not distracted by them, and kept his eyes
on
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