18. Rin

18

Rin

Fear is an emotion I am well acquainted with.

At first, I was scared of the dark. Then, as I got older, I became afraid of my immediate surroundings and eventually, that fear grew into feeling scared for my life every time I stepped outside my door. After that, I tried to cover it up with conviction.

It was still there, just buried beneath something more important.

If you had asked me before I was brought to this alien planet, I would have said I had conquered my fears and could face most situations with my head held high.

Still, nothing compares to the kind of fear that has gripped me in the chest since the moment I found myself inside that silver cage. Every moment since then has been a terrifying, spine-chilling experience.

My heart is pounding so loudly that I can hear it in my ears, and tips of my fingers are growing cold. My body still hurts all over from that fall, leaving me in no shape to do anything—let alone defend myself if the situation calls for it.

Then I think over his words instead of just letting fear take control of my wandering mind. He talked about Roshan as if he was part of our group—not just some dumb work animal, like Tehlmar saw him.

Maybe that's a good sign? But then I see another rivulet of blood drip from him and am reminded that he is clearly insane.

The only one I can trust is Roshan. I shudder and twine my fingers in his fur. Roshan seems to feel the same, except he is more angry than frightened. I'm pretty sure he's trying to figure out a way to chase him off.

I can't blame him. No one that violent, that cruel, could be anything but trouble personified.

When he stands up, his height and massive size intimidates me, but I don't show it—or try not to anyway—and move to stand as well.

First, I slowly sit up, placing a hand on the boulder behind me and wincing as pain radiates throughout my body. I grunt under my breath before I settle back down, breathing hard. Everything hurts but I don't think I have broken anything.

Ya Allah, I hope, anyway. Who knows where would I find any sort of medical attention here?

I look at the man and see that he and Roshan are in some kind of intense staring contest. I want to lash out at him again, but I know that it could make things worse, especially considering how confused I am about being around Tehlmar and now this guy.

I don't understand the difference between alien cultures, and I don't want to get my throat cut. I shudder when I remember the way he dismembered Tehlmar like some sort of demented surgeon.

Roshan snarls; I tap his side to get his attention as the alien catches my gaze. He is looking directly at Roshan, his face blank and calculating. Whatever he is thinking about, I already know I don't like it.

I need to get up. I repeat this to myself, biting my lip as I look around for something sturdier to hold on to.

Roshan's body is in front of me and I decide he will be my crutch. I hold on to one of his fuzzy legs and push myself up, pressing my lips together when the pain rushes through me, making me feel lightheaded. It creeps up my legs and shoots through my body as I exert myself.

I want to scream and collapse back to the ground, but I shut my brain off, screw up my face, and pull myself into a standing position. My elbows are scuffed and raw, my joints groan, and I struggle to stay on my feet.

Now is not the time to show weakness.

The corners of my eyes burn with tears and my entire body feels raw. I suck in a breath and adjust myself against Roshan, opening my eyes again. Black dots cloud my vision and my hands feel cold.

" Keke… " I huff out.

Roshan pushes his mouth against my side and nibbles softly, making me suck in a quick breath at how painful the normally gentle gesture is.

I rub his head and put a hand to his mouth so that he can nibble at it while I search for a spot on his vast body to lean against. My eyes catch the long cut on his back, open and clotted blue, and it reminds me why I don't want to go anywhere with this alien.

I face him, imagining my eyes to be guns and my glare bullets. His broad shoulders slump and he looks away from me, guilt flooding his features.

That's right, he should feel guilty for hurting such a sweet animal.

Looking at the cut again, I wonder how I am going to treat it. I know he is an animal, and they get wounded all the time, but this was from an already bloodied and maybe even rusty knife. I don't know what kind of diseases they have on this planet and because Roshan is not native to the place, it might turn out even worse for him.

My brain feels like it is being stomped on, but I focus on Roshan, while trying to figure out how I can help him.

My unwanted companion notices how worried I am about Roshan. "I have something to help with his wounds," he says, his voice low.

I snarl at him, and he averts his gaze. "Is it another weapon?" I hiss at him, not feeling any remorse for my tone.

His brow lowers again, his skin moving differently than a humans, and on a different arc because of his rounded forehead, but instead of saying something back, his shoulders slump even further.

He shifts the buckle, which I didn't notice before, to the back of him and a large stuffed pack appears in front. He opens it, pulls out a weird, slim silver tool and tries to hand it to me.

Roshan didn't like this and bleats loudly as his head pushes my hand back. He is such a good boy, looking out for me, but right now I need him to be still. I put my full weight against him and try to distract him by grabbing on to his muzzle.

I stroke my hand over the surface of his fur to calm him, then go back to holding his mouth, pushing it gently to the other side. While he's distracted, I stretch my other hand to collect the silver item, but Roshan interrupts again and this time pushes the man away from me and snarls out a warning.

"He is very protective," the man says, but I don't respond to him.

My only concern now is Roshan; this alien can go stuff himself.

Instead, I try to pull Roshan's large head toward me and my throat tightens. "You are such a sweet boy, aren't you, Roshan?" I coo in Farsi.

I can see that he is still suspicious of the man and the thing in his hand, so I muster strength and pull his head a little harder. It strains my body, but it works.

"Oh, my sweet little angel. Well, you're not little," I chuckle painfully mid-sentence. "But you sure are a cute little weirdo, my sweet little star. You'll stay still for me, won't you?"

He doesn't understand a word of my babbling, but he loves it, shaking the fur on his head and bleating softly.

I wonder if he understands any languages at all because he did not seem to respond to Tehlmar, whose soul I hope is suffering in the deepest parts of Jahannam , when he spoke his language to me or mentioned certain phrases, not until he hit him with that whip.

I have to work hard to keep rage out of my nonsense babbling, which seems to be working, but I can't get the image of that whip out of my mind.

The thought of it stresses me, remembering how he hurt the poor argila. I should have known then that he was complete filth. I shake the thought away. There was no way to know the plans that the haroomzade schemed in his dirty mind.

I can't start blaming myself for another person's untrustworthiness. Considering no one can be trusted, I'd be drowning in guilt.

While Roshan is distracted, I take the tool from the alien and sigh in relief.

Roshan nudges against me a little too hard and I grunt in pain as I take a step back. Thankfully, the pain seems to be lessening, because the argila isn't making this easy. I can feel the alien's gaze on me as he watches me struggle to get Roshan to stay in one place and try to close his wound. Roshan is more interested in playing with the tool and my fingers than listening to my pleas to stay still.

"Roshan, please. I can't struggle with you so much. It hurts," I plead with him.

"I don't know what you're saying, but it doesn't seem to be working."

I refuse to dignify his words with a response. I bite down hard on my tongue as a punishment for being too weak to do this by myself.

I try to take a deep breath to settle my pride down before I ask for his help. It hurts as bad as the words' taste coming out of my mouth. "I'm a little too battered. Can you do it?"

There is not an ounce of politeness in my voice when I ask, but his ears shift up and the patterns in his cheeks glow distractingly.

When Tehlmar was pummeling me against that tree, I promised myself that I would not speak to another male on this planet unless it was absolutely necessary and that I'd only look for allies among females. But now, I revoke that promise because I just have to ask him later whether those are natural or tattooed.

My stupid curiosity.

"If you can find a way to get him still, I will do it."

I stare at him blankly and my voice is monotone when I speak. "That is what I have been trying to do."

The alien reaches for the tool while Roshan leans on my hand that's digging into his fur. "Distract him, like you are doing now. I can stitch him up quickly if he is calm."

I nod my head and place my hand on the other side of the creature's face. "You will stay still for me, won't you?"

Roshan lifts his head from my hand and looks at me questioningly.

I look up and see that the alien is about to use the tool. I try to watch closely and see how he is using it, but the second his fingers touch Roshan's back, he growls and kicks out at him.

The alien dodges it swiftly and then darts toward us, grabbing the tool from the argila's back.

"Roshan, stop it," I say in a sharper tone. "He is trying to help."

The shift in tone startles him and he freezes. I refuse to coo at him, and he tilts his head to the corner, his nose going to nudge my shoulder when I continue to look at him sternly. The alien works swiftly while I try to keep a straight face with the creature nuzzling me, its soft fur tickling against my neck.

"I am finished. Does he have any other wounds?"

I start to say no, then I remember that Tehlmar speared him in the chest with his weird, pointy feet. It was the first time that Roshan left my side, in fear of his own life. I'm glad he saved himself.

"Yes, on his chest. Tehlmar hit him."

He looks at me, confused.

"The male you killed," I spit out, my tone venomous.

"He deserved it."

That is something we both agree on, but I refuse to admit it to him. I inspect the wound he just stitched and appreciate his neat work, then scoff. A skill learned from a life of violence, no doubt.

"Will these have to be removed by hand when the wound heals?" I ask, my tone still stiff.

He crouches to look under Roshan, but the animal is not having it, shifting his body and snapping out at the alien.

"They will disappear."

The alien hisses, and we struggle for a few more long minutes until he can get a few stitches in.

"That will have to be good enough," the large male grunts out and the aching in my body once again agrees with him.

My mind seethes at the mere thought of that agreement, but holding a grudge never helped anyone, as my māmān always said. I nod my head and kiss Roshan's nose.

"Thank you," I say hesitantly.

I know that I don't have to, but I do it anyway because my parents raised me right, which is more than I can say for him.