the things you learn about yourself in the average day.
“That smell you believe you recognize? That would be my hands,” Jonohkada offers a little glumly. He’s looking down at the gel pack pinched in his fingers when he shares, “We’ve found that your fire-crisped human treat bears an unsettling resemblance to baked hob flesh.”
I gape at him. “You got burned?! And you didn’t say anything?” I turn a horrified look on Bash.
Bash is unperturbed. “Jonohkada?”
The hob’s eyes dart to the Rakhii.
Bash spits on him.
On his hands, but still. I know that it’s not the insult it would be on Earth, but I’d swear Bash thoroughly enjoys spitting on the other male.
“Thank you,” Jonohkada says with absolutely no sarcasm, with no reserve of irritation. He’s inhumanely polite. “Here, Isla,” he hands me the still very-hot gel thing from his saliva-coated hands. “Apply this to your back muscles, and reheat every two…” He checks what looks like a watch on his wrist, “human owwers,” he finally settles on. Then he gives me a grave look. “Reheat very carefully by Rakhii fire.”
“I would never burn Isla,” Bash claims, sounding seriously offended.
I stare at Jonohkada. “For real?”
He nods. “It’s designed for Rakhii field-use.”
“Like, what, I just lift up my shirt and have Bash blow on my back?” I ask in disbelief.
The loudest, dirtiest cackle erupts from not far away.
I can feel Bash bristle. See it too, but even his tail—where it’s snaking down my other arm now, circling around my limb as it goes, snaps tense. “Gracie,” is what Bash growls in acknowledgement of the eavesdropper.
Gracie calls, “Just imagining Bash blowing on your back, Isla. The image—oh man!”
Several girls titter nearby for all of half a second before Bash’s glare slices around us and everyone goes dead quiet. “I take it that this phrase is open to an indecent interpretation. Care to explain what about that image is humorous to you humans?” he asks through his teeth.
“Nope!” Gracie chirps, and the leathery sound of Dohrein’s wings means she’s getting dragged off before she can get into real trouble. Or her mate starts to drag her off, but Gracie shouts, “Wait! Rein—do you smell… s’mores?” I can’t see her around Bash, but I know the moment she confirms that what she’s smelling does indeed smell like burnt marshmallows and chocolate. “Bash!” she hollers. “You arse! Did you burn Jonoh? You better not have—!” she sounds like she continues snarling, but the sound fades because Dohrein has picked her up and flown her back to the safety of her stolen throne.
Jonohkada watches in her direction, a soft smile playing on his face as he listens to his friend’s concern for his wellbeing. Then he turns, takes in Bash’s freshly irritated mood, and starts to cringe once again, clearly nervous. Still, he sallies forth, making eye contact with me. “Light movement for the rest of the day with gentle stretching.”
“Guess I should have stayed for that Pilates class this morning.”
The compound offers some pretty nifty amenities. Silly me, I didn’t know I needed to turn myself into a noodle today for my health and wellness.
He nods. “Research on humans who partake in Pilates proves it’s very beneficial for you. Walking would be good. Staying still could make your muscle stiffness increase which may exacerbate the problem.” He’s freezing up, his gaze darting up and behind me, his face taking on a rattled look.
I sigh. Bash has that effect on people. I pinch his tail since it’s in handy reach. “Would you stop?” I ask the Rakhii who’s got me tail-trussed. I glance up at him before sending a meaningful look to Jonoh. “He dropped everything to be nice and help. Thank you, Jonoh.”
Bash doesn’t thank him, but his tail begins to uncoil from me. It does it sluggishly, even sullenly. The coils drop heavily off of me, one loop by one. When I’m freed, he’s not even looking at me. He’s staring at Jonohkada.
Jonohkada gulps and gives me a small bow. “I hope you feel recovered soon, Isla.”
“Thanks again!” I tell him sincerely and watch him leave.
Bash’s hand, which had been locked under my shirt care of his tail ropes, slides free from my clothing, making my skin sad to feel it go. The heat pack is applied, and big claws carefully pinch my shirt and tug it back down. “How do you feel?”
I heave a grateful breath. “You are so horrible to Jonoh, but I’m supercalifragilistic now, thanks.”
Bash sounds uncharacteristically hesitant. “Half the time I don’t