Fel reached over his neck and rubbed his fingers into the scales before bringing his finger pad up to the bird where it rubbed its beak against his talons and fingertips eagerly. “We all have something to give, even if small. We don’t keep pets, but we can have relationships.”
“Why is she doing that?” I watched with fascination as Fel smiled.
“They don’t have a gender. They’rehe. Strix are hermaphrodites. These in particular, callyura, mate with one another and form little colonies of two to six and bear young together. Their natural predator is a type of scrofa, and they find our venom particularly offensive. So, callyura don’t miss an opportunity to get a little beakful for their own amusement. Try.” Fel gave me a smile as I tried to remember what scrofa were. If I wasn’t mistaken, they were centipede-type things with lobster claws.
What did Noel call them? Space fuck that thing?I vaguely recalled laundry day last as some hazy sort of memory.
I thought about it.
***
Noel stared at the basket, eyes locked in amid the folded garments. He blinked once and set the container down before surreptitiously walking off with a sharp, “Nope.”
It wouldn’t have caught my attention, save for the fact that a long, segmented body with spindly legs and pincer claws moved from one side of the basket to the other to curl up into way too long of a tangle that made me involuntarily shudder. Everything about it screameddangerandwrong. Even down to its color, it revolted me, a mottled brown and neon orange. “What the fuck is that thing?”
“It’s a spacefuck-that-thing. Vil! Do the husband thing!” I rarely heard Noel raise his voice, so the experience jarred me greatly.
An amused Vil sauntered out, chest puffed as he followed my limp gesture to find the thing coiled up inside. “Oh, that’s a big, nasty one.”
“What is it?” I asked again.
Vil laughed as he found a nearby gardening implement to lift it carefully from the basket and fling it out into the garden where it snaked its way up a tree and rattled its pincers as if it could harm us so far away. The insectoid equivalent of the middle finger. “The reason I’m getting extra cuddles tonight. But they call themscrofa.”
We stared at it as its forebody lifted in a threat display, pincers clicking in a menacing pattern that made the scales on my arms ripple and twinge. “Yeah, no. Fuck that thing.”
He nodded, and I backed away, maneuvering my way inside while carefully not turning my back to the fucking terrifying thing that must have been created solely to spite the Naleucians by some angry lizard god as one finalfuck youbefore they evolved past being thankful for their creation.
***
“What eats scrofa?” I turned my head and blinked at Fel, my thoughts stuck on satan’s pet noodle.
Fel laughed. “We do. Also, why the callyura hang around us. Here.”
I stiffened as Fel leaned over with one hand, getting me to rub at my newly marked neck. As I rubbed, a little oil seemed to slick my finger, my own natural scent rising as I did so.
As if a little shark scenting blood in the deepest ocean, the little strix flicked its head toward me, fluttered over, long tail flowing beautifully, and immediately took advantage of the oil.
“Mated omegas have stronger scents. They’ll love you.” Fel preened as another set of beady eyes peeped out at me from the nest.
I suddenly had a vision of some pasty-skinned bint in a fluffy dress, singing and twirling around the wilderness as all manner of vermin flocked to her as another callyura, a pink one, fluttered up to nuzzle at my hand. The two nipped and hissed at one another for a moment before coming to an agreement to share in the way that wild creatures could.
“They’re mated. They match via color spectrum.” Fel stared at the creatures that had no interest in him anymore.
“So, it works out?” I stared at the two creatures wetting their beaks on my scent gland oil, which housed more of my venom, a deterrent that would keep another alpha from claiming me, that would protect me when I was vulnerable. Protect my unborn.
“Often. Far more often than not. It’s quite shocking when it doesn’t, if history is to be believed.” Fel reached over to flick his nail around at the ruff beneath one of the callyura’s heads. It craned its head, closing its beady little eyes as if it enjoyed it.
“If you break the bond, your venom glands don’t recover.” Fel gave me a knowing look. “Leaves you susceptible to things.
“Is that so?” I smiled at the birds. “Then I wouldn’t be able to do this, anymore.”
“Exactly. I think Friend Wallace will appreciate the importance of being able to provide protection to these little creatures, as well as provide a source of amusement for you.” Fel nodded once.
Silence spread between us as Fel continued to preen the strange animals, his face softening while his tail occasionally gripped my ankle in that comforting gesture.
“What would you do if you were me?” I found myself smiling as the two strix lost interest in my scent and preened one another instead.
“I’d reciprocate the bond and copulate with Friend Wallace until my health monitors indicated I was in dire need of sustenance or sleep.” Fel nodded once as if he’d already had the pleasure of thinking it over. “He is a very good male and his genes are very sought after. He’s not spread them at all. They are far more scarce than even Vil.”