11. Kuret

11

Kuret

She backs up, he steps up, the distance between them closing until her back is pressed against the tree . She pushes out her hand, as if telling him to stay away, but he only closes in on her.

A part of me wants to look away. This is starting to look like an intimate moment between them, But I can't tear my eyes away; it feels like something is about to happen.

Something's not right.

I hope that I am wrong—that I'm overthinking these things, as I have no experience to compare these interactions. Maybe this nagging feeling is just a false alarm. An instinct from years of keeping an eye on females, making sure they were safe from predators while staying distant.

The male moves himself up against her rather roughly. One shiny hand pushes his hair back from his face while his free hand rises to grab her chin.

I expect a tender touch—some sign that I'm mistaken, just confused about females and donors. But I catch his hands pressing her chin with considerable force and I know there is no tenderness in his actions.

The human female lets out a shriek of fear. I hop to my feet and dash in a straight line toward them.