Come From Way Above [Feral Predator&Naru]

Every Man In Sight

1729.
He is obviously a lot faster than she is as they run together through the woodlands. Still, he needs not slow down as much as he thought (whenever imaging; fantasising.) She is keeping up with him with. He thinks maybe a little too well as a wickedly taunting thought springs to his mind.

He suddenly stops dead in his tracks, already smirking under his mask before she predictably crashes into him from behind. He hears her little thud and groan and trills in delight as he turns to look down at her.

She’s glaring up at him, but the anger isn’t real, doesn’t reach her eyes. There’s even a small smile tugging at her lips when she rolls her eyes at him and says, “That was not funny.”

He shrugs casually, telling her he clearly thinks otherwise, and the sweet little sound of that laugh bubbles right out of her again. He likes making her do that. And she seems to like it, too.

He wonders what other things she would like him to do for her; to her...

He may be a feral beast on his missions, but that doesn’t mean he forgets his etiquette and manners with females of any kind. Hish-qu-ten don’t have many strict rules as such, but honour and teamwork are very important to his kind.

So, of course he extends a hand down to her. He startles slightly when she scoffs out a laugh and slaps his hand away. He’s almost disappointed, until he sees she just wanted to test out his gift–he trills quietly and happily as he watches her pole vault herself gracefully back to her feet.

He tilts his head onwards, and she nods before following him at a walking pace.

A few minutes later, he pauses when the winds shifts and he suddenly picks up the dia-shui of the last ic’jit. He holds up a hand, telling her to stop, she nods and does, watching him silently and curiously and forever in awe of his tech. She doesn’t hear the next quiet trill of amusement he gives, far too busy leaning in to watch with wide eyes as he fiddles with his wrist blade, typing away on the small keypad.

She gasps when he lets the tracker drone loose from his wrist blade. Her eyes are even wider and there’s an amazed little smile hanging from those big pyode lips. If he wasn’t so endeared by her reaction right now, he’d still be focused on those lips.

“What is it?” She asks him, eyes filled with wonder and flickering between him and his drone still hovering and waiting for its next command.

He lifts his other hand to his masked face. He points two fingers to his hidden eyes. He spreads his palm and points all five fingers out around them. He then lifts his hand to his forehead and makes a half salute gesture as he turns his head and pretends to look around.

She catches on quickly, nodding and smiling before she says, “It is your eyes where you cannot see.”

He points at her and nods, letting out a happy trill again. She’s beginning to understand him even without him trying to teach her how to physically speak to him.

It makes his skin burn with something more pyode than desire, but much more persistent.

He is fond of her beyond sexual desire or even her warrior spirit. He has found companionship with her in the tiniest spaces of time. She has crawled into his chest as well as his head.

He is done for.

He is not letting this go, he is not letting her go again.

He may have the Warrior’s Mark, but he is still technically not blooded. Because of her, his little dhi’ke-de. Because she defeated him.

He is unforgiving of this, and he will not let her go unless she puts him down again.

If she allows it, he will take her to the stars with him. If not, he will force her to end him once more, and forget he ever existed.