The First Hunter

The Unspoken Language

Bet-khar wasn't just frustrated, he was tired and hungry, and didn't need more complications. He tried to focus on the task ahead when he heard light footsteps approaching. He instantly knew the human female was coming with more questions, and more crying. 'Why do they cry' Bet-khar muttered. 'What can they possibly achieve with eye water? Humans are weak and useless', he decided.

He kept on typing the coordinates sent by his brothers, hoping to leave earth's atmosphere before getting detected. Through his helmet's wide vision he watched as the female's eyes filled with more water. Without a warning, she moved closer, wrapped her arms around his torso and mumbled something unintelligible against his armor. Bet-khar's body tensed in surprise.

The hunter knew about weaker tribes that wrapped their arms around one another for comfort or support. His kind, however, was the strongest in the galaxy, and being entrapped inside someone's embrace seemed rather insulting. The most intimate exchanged among his brothers was a brief grasp of forearms. He knew domesticated animals did enjoy touch to some degree or another, and he might have played with animals when he was much younger. However, touching others for comfort or reassurance was not common in his age.

The human looked up at him expectantly. He simply stared back at her exasperated. His frustration was ignored by the tinny creature who sighed and resumed the entrapment, a little tighter this time. Bet-khar didn't move. Instead, he let the human bury her face in his abdomen. Regardless of the species, he knew nonverbal communication conveyed far more about one's true emotions than any words could. She was grateful, and he understood that her species showed gratitude by touching. He gave her the yautja version of a sigh, and awkwardly pet the female in the head, filling in the gaps of the unspoken language.