15. Kuret

15

Kuret

The human female startles me when she suddenly she gets up and runs in crooked, desperate steps. I stand there, momentarily frozen, my eyes rapidly blinking as I watch her get away. Why is she running?

I don't need her adoration or praise, but I didn't expect her to flee instead of letting me ensure her safety.

Ree never mentioned how vastly different her friends are from her in temperament. A part of my brain pushes back at the thought.

Ree was rescued by a manticorid and she feels safe. This poor human, however, has been through torment, first captured by genali hunters, and then confronted by that unspeakable creature. Its no wonder she assumes everything wants to harm her.

Yet, It's baffling. She seems more afraid of me than of the green-haired male, and I can't understand why.

Grunting in frustration, I start walking in her direction, wiping the thick, sticky blood off my body. His blood is thicker and much stickier than mine. Its musty smell fills my nostrils with its disgusting stench. While I typically take pride in wearing the blood of my enemies, this particular smell is terrible, a true reflection of the filth he was.

I spot her wobbling ahead in the distance. She's in visible pain, yet still desperately trying to escape me. I decide not to chase her outright, fearing her panic might lead her to harm herself. I simply stalk behind, keeping a steady pace.

Her white hair and loud movements act as a beacon, impossible to miss.

She calls out, her voice strained and desperate, and I glance around, alert for anything her cries might attract. She shouldn't be making this much noise in a place like this, where hunters might still be lurking. If something does come, though, I'll deal with it.

Moments later, she teeters and stumbles into a bush, falling out of my sight. Alarmed, I quicken my steps, only to see her rise shakily, looking around, as if checking whether she's being followed. Does she think I can't hear her calling out?

She cries out again, and continues dragging herself forward. I watch her pitiful movement, unsure of how to approach her. I feel like I'm a predator stalking its prey, even though I have no intention of harming her.

Perhaps I should explain myself once I catch up. But would she even listen? She had screamed for help earlier, so why is she running now?

Her white hair disappears from my view again.

I hear her let out an agonized sound, and I pick up my pace and run in her direction. My hearts pound, not with exertion, but with the fear I didn't expect; the fear of killing a woman I was only trying to save from a rapist.

As I approach the spot where she disappeared, I see it is a rocky edge. My stomach tightens. It does not look like a big fall, but the injuries she has already sustained from the aggressive male might be the thing that sends her to her death.

I carefully pick my way around the jutting edge of the rock so I don't end up in the same situation she is. No one will help the both of us if I find myself wounded at the bottom of the ravine.

Peering down, I spot her. Her small, frail form is pinned beneath a hideous creature. Six spindly legs protrude from its body, its broad head hovering over hers, its large blue lips parting to reveal terrifying teeth.. That is all I need to alert my sense of danger, running toward her with my knife in my hands.

From this angle, I can see a hideous creature open its mouth over her head, its large blue lips and large teeth going to gnaw at her even though her hands are covering her face. She is uncharacteristically still for somebody being attacked by a large animal.

My chest constricts with the realization that she might already be dead, but then I notice faint movement.

Relief surges within me. I have a chance to save her. Maybe I can redeem myself by saving her from a wild animal, and she will trust me. At least I hope that's what will happen. I must be careful not to harm her further or let her harm herself out of fear.

The human woman raises her head as she hears me approaching. Her half-lidded, bright eyes lock onto mine. Her eyes widen when they spot my weapon. I want to tell her that the knife is not for her and that she will be fine if she just stays still and lets me kill the animal before it hurts her.

"Stop!" she yells, her voice trembling.

Do humans from her planet pride themselves so much on independence that they'd rather run into danger than accept protection? Her reaction baffles me, but I know what I must do.

The creature glances at me for a moment before crouching lower, pressing protectively over her. Stupid animal, offering its back to me to directly hit. I will strike at it with great violence and save her from herself once more.

I close the distance in three strides, my knife raised, ready to strike. I will end this creature and prove that I am here to help.

But just as my blade is about to connect, the creature shuts its eyes and makes a low bellow toward the wailing female, and it dawns on me. I pause. The realization hits me like a blow, it's not trying to harm her, it's protecting her.

The swing of my blade lands despite my attempt to pull back. Though I manage to divert the strike slightly, the blade cuts deep into the animal's back. Bright blue blood seeps out of the injury as the animal makes a sound of pain but does not move.

I take a step back. The wound is deep, but hopefully not deadly.

The animal bleats again as the human female wails louder, a long keening sound that causes my hearts to constrict painfully on either side of my chest. Her cry cuts through me more painfully than any blade, filled not with physical agony but an emotion far deeper.

Her hand goes around the short neck of the creature, her tiny fingers digging into the fur of its head as she pulls it closer to her.

The creature's legs are so low that it is nearly sitting on her midriff, but she does not seem to care about that in the slightest. She continues to howl, and I take a few steps away from them. She soon runs out of breath and all I can hear is panting, interrupted by a low whine from her and quiet braying from the animal.

The creature turns its gaze to me, protective and fierce, with its large dark yellow eyes and lurches forward aggressively, hissing at me.

The human female mumbles something to it and it turns back to her, crouching even lower than I thought it could. How has she managed to inspire such loyalty from an animal who can't even speak?

Its legs tremble visibly, yet the creature remains steadfast, its body a protective barrier around her. As it turns to face me again, its large dark lips curled into a snarl, I take another step away from them and look down at my blade, watching as the blue blood on it starts to dry against the brown from the male.

I can see the fear in its eyes mixed with a sort of determination, intelligence clear in its gaze.

It dawns on me that this animal is the one whose tracks I saw earlier, then I notice the rope tied looped around its neck. It's what was pulling the cart, I realize.

"I have no honor," I mutter to myself as my dagger falls out of my grasp and lands on the ground.

The creature hisses at me again, but I do not pay it any heed.

I drop to my knees before the human female and her unwavering protector, the sting of a sharp rock slicing into my left knee going unnoticed. I do not deserve to feel pain or even speak of it. My judgment has led to harm, both to the woman I vowed to safeguard and the loyal creature that stood by her side.

Any honor I gained from saving her from the rapist is gone, and I do not know how to get it back. At this rate, she will never put her trust in me.

Maybe Ree is wrong to trust me too, and I am wrong for thinking I could do this. Why did I even think I was capable of such a task? They should have found someone better suited for this. What do I know about females that I thought I was qualified for such a delicate mission? I am ashamed.

The pain in my knee is nothing compared to the burning shame in my chest as I gaze upon the scene before me.

I should have known better.