hello everyone! this is my first avp/predator fanfiction, so please be nice? haha orz
anyway, this will probably be a short story, i don't know yet, but i know where to go with it for a bit, so this is just a trial run, see if you guys like it or not; if i get positive feedback, i'll definitely continue and update it, thus, please please please review, comment, follow and whatever else you want, i like feedback! obviously i don't own the avp universe and all, just my oc and here's hoping you'll like her too!
italic = english
normal = yautja
bold = anything else
Patience was the best suit a hunter could wear when faced with worthy prey. It was an incredible feat to learn its patterns, their habits; deliciously enticing to watch every small reaction, deducing easily how they would end up at the end of your spear, the many possibilities, just technicalities. The predator prowled, observed, memorized, perched upon gnarly and thick branches, moving soundlessly, in tandem with its game. Under camouflaged canopy, she leaped from a gargantuan tree and landed swiftly on the jungle floor, knees bent and toes curled as she sniffed the air instinctively.
This particular prey she was after had sweet smelling blood, impossible to not feel the scent of, one that was purple, unmistakable, despite the smells of the wasteland. Granted, its tough hide offered it enough protection so that it was unbreakable, unless you knew of its weak, tender spots under the belly and knees. Luckily, she was one of the experienced hunters that knew the exact points in which to hit the mammoth with rocky reptilian skin, as this was not the first time she brought one down. Many would shy away from such big challenge, however, especially the barely blooded or un-blooded, yet she found it exciting, in a very dangerous, risky, edge of the knife sort of way.
It gave her a certain high. A high of being in complete control of her fate. Of this animal's fate.
Her head suddenly whipped to her right, mask visors looking through the treeline and then over the muddy ground after the rain, having caught sight of what she was looking for. Sure enough, big hooves led that way, a trail of purple drops, slightly foggy from being washed away by the pouring earlier, but still, a very obvious track that would get her to the beast. Like any respectable hunter, she kept her footsteps hidden to nonexistent, preferring the trees and navigating the large sturdy branches that created a whole web of wood above the floor.
Her sharp nails slid over a broken twig, her sweaty skin from the humidity in the air making the huntress shift her stance on her haunches.
She tapped the side of her mask with the tip of a finger, once, twice, until the right vision was set and she could see the creature's body through cold obstacles. She had a clear shot this way, but she refused to use a cannon. Instead, she reached over her back and pulled out her spear, collapsing it with a faint 'shink'. Another weakness of the refakir, the 10 feet large boar-like beast, were the eyes. What not many hunters knew was that a lot of creatures based their very existence on the ability to see, making sight a weakness for any foe or game. As with refakirs, they were large in shape, taking up a lot of space on top of their muzzles, enough to make the perfect target for one that had good aim.
And her aim was flawless.
She took a few silent steps back and twirled the spear over her head, pointing it through the space of brush, trees and branches, eyes narrowing underneath her mask to focus on the narrow slot. Lock. Ready.
These were the challenges that she liked to put herself through.
With a sharp inhale, she launched the weapon.
It was hurled with formidable strength through the air, making a whizzing noise as it surged through the treeline. A howl and a mangled yowl of pain shook the earth underneath her sandals only a few seconds after.
This was her cue.
The female jerked her body into motion, sprinting over roots and through shrubbery, calves burning with the sudden adrenaline rush, towards her trophy.
When she reached the spot of the kill, her mouth quirked in a grin behind the mask.
The aim was true. Her spear struck through one eye and came out through the other. She puffed out her chest with pride at her marksmanship skills, unrivaled by other females and deadly accurate after all this time she had not used them in hunts. Maybe a handful males could do the same in this clan, a few from others. Regardless, this skull was going to hang upon her wall, next to the kainde amedha queen she took down on her chiva.
Yanking her javelin back, she was pleased to see that no damage had been done to the bone, therefore, she should be able to clean it without problems. Time to sever the spine from the head and be on her way.
That was a bit of a hassle, given the hide of the refakir, but after a good hour spent cutting with her disk and ring sword, she managed to get the head secured in a net. Trophy thrown over her shoulder, she began her treck back to the drop ship.
Most didn't know how to react to her. She was a human, after all, but she had been raised by a female yautja from the moment she was taken from Earth, some twenty-four years ago, if she counted correctly, when she was but a blubbering suckling. Her surrogate bearer had told her that she had been born in the camp, to a pregnant soldier female. Probably the result of a romp between comrades, she guessed later in life after her first hunt around a human establishment. At that time, the larger yautja female took pity on the wailing newborn and took her with, back to Yaut Prime, the homeworld.
From then on, her life had been decided. She was raised within their culture, spoke their tongue and ...was expected to become a good obedient eta when the right age hit. But that, obviously, didn't happen. She wanted to be a warrior, like her surrogate bearer was, seeing the respect and admiration the female garnered, witnessing her prowess in the kehrite on many occasions. Above all, she wanted to know the thrill of the hunt, become one of their own, for good. The need to belong won over any shred of self-preservation her human mind still had.
Her determination pushed her through years and years of training under her surrogate bearer, a female that sired many successful hunters and the best their clan had to offer. Sir'ai wasn't just her, ineloquently put, mother, but her mentor as well, and that served her well throughout the years as she made sure the little girl knew everything she was privy and not privy to, given her species.
Sir'ai was, after all, their most prolific of female hunters and warriors, that joined males on hunts when she was feeling like it, one of the few that returned from her generation's chiva, with ten ooman skulls, a kiande amedha queen skull and many other drone skulls. Her scars spoke of her glory and she was sought after throughout the mating season, not that many males managed to get close enough. Nobody dared to question her decision to train an ooman their ways, nobody dared to question her motive for adopting the suckling either.
Sir'ai had many other daughters, but each of them chose different paths. Some became priestesses to Paya, other served the politics as advisers to the matriarch on the homeworld, some chose to become healers, but none wanted the hunter's path. When the four year old human voiced her desire to be like her, the yautja female was both surprised and delighted with her spirit, but that didn't make her any less severe through the training sessions or the teachings.
After her first hunt, at the age of nine, the human managed to rip herself from the strings of a fate she didn't want. She took her chiva at the age of sixteen, following many hunts in-between from which she took plenty of trophies, yet the ultimate pride of her bearer had been when she returned home with a queen's skull and five human skulls, her own people; that was a very decisive moment in her existence. From that point on, the human girl became a sain'ja, blooded and with mating rights, something unheard of, but not impossible, as she was blessed in her path by the Matriarch when her special case was presented to the regal eldress.
It didn't mean that they liked it and there were no yautja males interested in mating her anyhow, but it was the knowledge that her sweat, blood and tears got her so far which was reward enough. The yautja were cruel but honorable, and her strength, determination, prowess, were undisputed.
From her chiva on, many had tried to challenge her, disbelieving that an ooman could have done what she did and she proved them all wrong in the kehrite, when she painted her face with their blood and made fools out of them. It took her at least four more years to make her role in their society known and set it in stone for them all to understand. Many kv'var followed after her trial and she joined without question, managing to impress warriors and elites in her wake with how efficient, dedicated and strong-willed she was. While she could never compare to the strength of a yautja, she could definitely bring one down using their own weight against them, her agility, flexibility and wit, no matter how graceful and quick they were.
And all of this was fine. Seven years had passed, she was now an adult female by human standards and hunting was all she came to know, it distracted her and kept her on her feet, because she didn't know what to do with herself otherwise.
"Ooman return," a trill to her right made her pause for just a second, to glance at the male yautja dragging his own trophies in his net, mask angled in her direction as he chittered with amusement at seeing her come out into the clearing. He was green as a leaf, with areas of lighter shades around his stomach, his chest, inner thighs and arms. Marc'te, one of the few that returned with her from the chiva, her hunt brother, was always having a good time at her expense, calling her human instead of the name she had been given by her bearer, simply because he hardly tolerated the idea of pyode amedha fighting and hunting side by side with him.
"And so do you, granted, with a less impressive trophy," she was quick to retort, marching at a faster pace towards the ramp of the dropship. She could hear a growl and rapid clicking behind her and knew she struck a chord, but she also knew that he wasn't foolish enough to challenge her, not after what she had done to him all those years back in the kehrite. He was one of those disbelievers, that thought they could actually one-up her, humiliate her for the species she belonged to; prove everyone that she was prey and prey was weak.
She took her seat as soon as she walked inside, tying the net ends to her belts and leaning her head back into the headrest to rest the muscles of her neck. It had been a fruitful hunt, this one. The rest of the trophies she gathered were up on the clanship, in her own quarters. Another good year and good results that her bearer surely will be proud of.
Her eyes closed and she crossed her arms over her chest plate, inhaling deeply and exhaling with an air of relaxation. The young bloods under her mother's tutelage would love to hear about her new scars, and the sucklings especially. She smiled at that thought.
After a few seconds of silence, movement began around her and she already knew the other hunters started gathering back to the ship, each with their own skulls.
A close proximity huff that fogged her visors, however, made her snap her eyes open, only to come face to face with another of the large yautja males, the firstborn of the clan leader, Lar'ja. He was named that because when he was born, he was a very dark color, an anomaly in the skin pigmentation among sucklings, bordering on black, earning him the jab from others that he was Cetanu's son in actuality. An omen of sorts, a good sign to his sire and bearer. His hunt brother, R'ka, told her this tale after a few cups of c'nlip in the mess hall of the clan ship, granted, a few years back, when his tongue loosened enough. To this day, he remained a dark color, bordering on an exotic blue fading into a lighter hue around his chest and abdomen, inner arms, legs and center of face.
As he stood there, the many thoughts flashing through her mind, she noticed absentmindedly that he was wearing a more regal type of armor, showing his status and rank among all others, eyes like embers through his now transparent visors of his mask boring into hers.
He clicked in curiosity, angling his face towards the head in her net and then up at her own figure, looking her up and down. Her mask visors were transparent as well and she daringly stared back at him with fearless ice blue eyes, fingers digging into the flesh of her arm. The only motion she made was the tilt of her head, as if in regard to his curiosity with her person.
This idiotic male had sired enough pups to last him his whole life, she knew that much, by how many females he managed to mount, including two of her surrogate sisters, a healer and a scholar. She was there when he came to rut one of them too -that alone was awkward and uncomfortable. He was too close to home for her, so she made it her mission to avoid the attention of this one, even if, during some hunts, it was impossible; he was always involved in them somehow, either by leading the group or being part of it.
"Hulij-bpe pyode amedha," he growled out, straightening up from having leaned down to be level with her and watch her closely.
"Sain'ja." she corrected with an annoyed grunt in the back of her throat. "Nain-desintje-de," the grunt became a growl as she nudged the trophy with a foot, a scoff following soon after at how he had the audacity to even call her a soft meat and a crazy one on top of that, for going after prey bigger than she was, supposedly because she was a weakling in his eyes.
But he just trilled in amusement, cocking his head to the side. The huntress felt insulted by this male, yet she couldn't exactly go against him to show him differently, so she just gave a snort and turned her head to the side, an act of ignoring him as nicely put as possible.
He bristled and puffed out his chest, a step closer into her personal space, until his tibia was pressing between her legs into the seat edge. Apprehensively, he squared his shoulders and she chirped softly, as if apologizing because she didn't want a challenge.
Truly, she didn't. He was one of the best blooded warriors, an elite in his right and she was sure it was taken into consideration to make him an arbitrator. Satisfied with having made his point, the male snarled in one last act of aggression, forcing her to cower in submission, before turning his back to her, a very disrespectful action at which she bared her teeth behind her mask.
"Pauk'de zazin…" she muttered under her breath, more to calm herself than anything else. Before anything else could go down and with all hunters buckled up, the pilot started their ascension to the clan ship. Her mask visors turned opaque, in an act of refusing to let any other see her eyes, but also to be able to rest them, because they hurt after so much time spent alert.
That pompous royal bitch across from her was the third reason why, just because he was watching her as if he wanted to rip her throat out. Did she make an enemy of him by being too brazen? Humans like her should be thankful for what they were able to achieve and she should say her prayers to Paya for blessing her with such a path, but there was that growing fire within her chest, that swell in her belly that made her want to break every known rule and known fact about humans being unable to match to this species when it was obvious that she could.
And if she could, they could pose a threat as well.
As soon as the drop ship locked in and the ramp was down, the huntress yanked herself out of the seat with furious purpose and squeezed her way to be the first off, hauling the net with her trophy back on her shoulder.
"Kali'adah!"
She turned almost relieved, her waist long braids, adorned with rings, clinking as they swayed with her movement. Her shoulder was shook in a welcoming gesture by one of her hunt sisters, coming from another drop ship that docked at the same time as hers, the yautja female taller by one foot, muscular and painted in a beige color with brown stripes down her back and crest. Kali'adah returned the gesture, reaching up and giving the female as strong shake of her arm. "Jac'in."
"Good hunt, mei-jadhi?"
"Sei-i," the female trilled with joy and quickly made to remove her mask, pulling the tubes and detaching it from her face, allowing Kali to see the deep golden eyes behind it. "You? Worthy prey?" the human also removed her mask, alas in a more simple manner, doing the same by attaching it to her hip. "Let us walk, there is much we must talk of," Jac'in chirped, a click in between as she pushed her friend along.
There was a sudden curious chittering behind them, as they made to move, prompting both to look back, only to see Lar'ja staring after them with his mask off. He was watching them with off putting intent, something Jac'in bristled at and pushed Kali onwards again, a rumble in her chest.
"Kha'bj-te males. They cannot even wait for the mating season to officially begin," the yautja shook her head, a gesture so human that Kali couldn't help but mimic. Jac'in was a female that prefered the life of a hunter, much like her, having done her duty and giving birth to twenty sucklings in her lifetime before she retreated completely from the mating rituals. In fact, the female owned a human servant, a woman called Amelia, that she was incredibly fond of and grew attracted to beyond the comprehension of others.
It was from Amelia that Kali knew most things human, her native tongue and the swears that came with it. Apparently, the woman had been with the yautja since she was fourteen, passed from master to master, which is how she learned their language. Jac'in often asked Kali trivial questions about how her body worked, how her eyes could see, mostly because she was embarrassed of asking this of the servant female. It was really heartwarming to watch them interact and see how Jac'in protectively strayed no far than a foot away from Amelia.
She was her savior, after all.
"Will you participate in the mating season this rotation? I see you have gained another worthy trophy to hang on your wall," it was an innocent question, but it had Kali tense and hold the net tighter in her calloused hands. "I don't believe so. Even if a male, voluntarily, genuinely, would be interested in rutting me simply for the exoticism of pauking an ooman, I am not able to have sucklings. Besides, I do not think I wish for only that…" Kali paused in the hallway towards the lift, glancing up at the yautja female "...I yearn...I feel like I would wish more than…" but she stopped before going further. Feelings were lost on yautja and they mated each year simply for reproduction, life mates were rare and few inbetween, Jac'in's emotions were an exception, but even so, she was reluctant to say more.
They were non-monogamous, after all, they found different partners every season and only the most worthy of males could breed a female of their choosing. Generally, females could also choose their males, and fight other females for mating rights, but in the end, it was all about having the strongest pups.
"Ki'sei. We live the same, but we are different, mei-jadhi," the two stepped into the lift, among three other yautja males. "It is no shame to admit to that," the female continued, glancing down at the human huntress.
"It is for me. Thar'n-da s' yin'tekai is all I must know…"
Jac'in lowered her gaze in thought, her tusks clicking together. For the rest of the journey, they both remained silent, until they reached Kali's chamber, a few rooms down from Jac'in's own. Despite the female yautja's previous words, they had barely scratched the surface of having a conversation, but there was enough time for that. Jac'in nodded to her friend curtly "N'dhi-ja." probably sensing that the ooman was in no mood to converse further.
"N'dhi-ja, Jac'in."
While her hunt sister was returning to someone within her room, Kali returned to no one, only the empty and clinical smell greeting her as her doors slid open. Placing her palm on the screen by the doorway, she had them close and lock for everyone that tried to bother her, even though, she was aware that not many would. It was time to clean her new trophy and put it up on her wall, among all the others.
For a yautja, loneliness was never a problem, they weren't social creatures, they didn't need to interact on a daily basis or be in each other's presence at all times, but with humans, as Kali discovered, loneliness was a funny thing that made her feel the oddest stirrings. She sighed to herself and dragged her feet to the middle of the room, eyes moving over her suspended hammock, layered with pelts, then to the table at the far end, a spectacular view of the space stretching from one end of her room to the other, in an elegant arch. Her trophy wall was actually just a wall of the room, a depression in it to be specific with a desk underneath for her cleaning kit, not a separate room like the quarters of other hunters. Then there was the small bathroom, not accessorized with a bathtub like most of the others, but with something resembling a cubicle and something above that had water sprinkle down on the occupant.
Was she treated equally now that she was a hunter and held a rank above a lot of them? No. There were discriminations, there were a lot of suspicious stares and sneers when she walked around, mellowing with the years mostly. She didn't respond to them unless challenged directly, because that was their way and she respected the honor code like nothing else. The proof of inequality was her room, in fact. Much smaller and fit for an eta, with very few pluses here and there, like the existence of a trophy wall. When she ran out of space, she started spreading the skulls all over the room, a few above her hammock and some around the other walls.
They thought she didn't need a big place for them because she was lesser and surely not able to fill one. Boy, were they wrong. Jac'in was often amused by this, even suggested making a request to get a room worthy of a warrior of her rank.
After her deeds, she should have been named an elite, by what her friend told her, considering the hunts she went on and the number of trophies she gathered; she was eligible for the trial to become one as high in rank, yet...she was human, the only defect that made her seem incapable in the eyes of the elders.
It wasn't as if she went and demanded she be included either.
Truthfully, she learned to be satisfied with even this. This was comfortable and familiar. Besides, this was better than eta, than slave, than pet, than anything that other humans were for the yautja on the homeworld. She had considered taking a male human as servant or...or pet...but then she felt filthy. This wasn't her and she stubbornly kicked that idea from her head. No, she didn't need males of any species. Fuck the mating season.
...
Much later, in the mess hall, Kali shoved her way through muscles and testosterone, taking her share of meat and greens before she sat down at one of the far-end tables. Usually the best of the elites and blooded clustered into the center, sharing stories of their adventures and hunts and making too much noise for her liking. Among them was, of course, Lar'ja, R'ka and all the other pairs of biceps, chittering loudly and clicking with excitment.
Probably talking about what females to bend over as soon as they touched ground. When they would arrive, it would be one day away from the official beginning of the mating season celebrations. That meant a lot of musk flowing around and a lot of rutting happening virtually everywhere.
And Kali was not looking forward to that. The tension in the air was already getting higher, every male and female waiting in anticipation. Many already started sniffing around and showing intention here and there, but females were relentless, they would shut them off in the next second.
Absentmindedly, Kali traced the new scar on her shoulder, all while munching on a piece of purple meat, eyes staring blankly at the food on her tray. Her body was full of scars like that one, something that males found extremely arousing in females, but not her, never her. She was human, no matter how strong her body was, no matter how many beasts she conquered or how many scars she showed with pride. It was that kind of thinking that also made Kali stray away from even considering a yautja in the first place. Besides, their mating was something to be desired. Short, hard and painful.
Yeah, she wasn't exactly enchanting the idea. Amelia told her why she felt so against it, because it simply wasn't in her nature to submit to that kind of 'rutting'. Humans weren't made for that.
That made her think of one incident in her early days, when a yautja male breeded a human slave in public, out of desperation to end his heat, having been rejected many times, defeated and with no option left, he preyed on the weak servant. The female's body was broken and mangled, dead, obviously, and thrown out like she had been nothing but trash. The most terrifying fact was that...no one stopped to at least push the corpse aside from the middle of the market, they all just stepped over or around her, not sparing a glance. All this happened during a mating season, that's when she understood just how little humans mattered in their eyes, as if they were not sentient beings capable of thought, but only animals to be hunted and owned.
A shiver ran down her spine and she swallowed the hard-to-chew meat, shaking the memory from her mind. No reason to dwell on the past -suddenly, a tray was slid under her nose, startling and making her jerk back; she was almost sure it had to be Jac'in for the briefest moment, until she saw the skin color of the hand, up the arm and then the face. Lar'ja stood there across her table, chest puffed out and shoulders squared, with a tray full of all kinds of meat and naxa fruit, shoved in her face.
What...the fuck? Elites were privy to more food than those of her rank or the barely blooded, so she knew he had the privilege to choose from a wider variety, but this didn't -why was he even standing like that, as if he was putting on a show for her, like he was -
Courting her? Males that wanted a specific female were extremely doting at first, right before the mating season, showing them that they could provide, that they were worthy and then that they had strong genes, that they were potent and strong.
But this wasn't it, was it? This was payback for her earlier misbehaving, this was Lar'ja mocking her, making fun of her, humiliating her by trying to play a cruel joke on her obvious unattractiveness and lack of appeal for the males.
Make her see that she was human. That she didn't belong here. Any moment now, she expected him to just start laughing in her face, call her less than a lou-dte kale, because she couldn't even bear sucklings, his peers joining in on the fun. And it wasn't as if she wasn't used to Lar'ja calling her names and being an asshole to her whenever they happened to be on the hunt in the same group, but this...this crossed a line.
There was silence, eyes on them, faint chittering and clicking from several individuals, but otherwise, eerily quiet. Kali swallowed the knot in her throat, feeling the bite of anger rising in her belly like fire as she glared up in his eyes. It was a crime to kill a honorable yautja.
Her fingers twitched and they clenched in fists on the table, the familiar rage bubbling up through her whole body and she suddenly felt so wronged and hurt and...so fucking angry. She shot up and smacked the tray from his hand, sending it flying on the floor, before she roared at him, back arched and eyes wild with fury.
He didn't see it coming, because she saw his lower mandibles spread out in surprise, yet he had no time to fend her off, Kali had already leaped up over the table and at him, her knees knocking him over a table behind, using her weight on their most vulnerable spot, the neck. She didn't move when she had him pinned under her kneecaps, she glared down in his eyes with wrath as she sat there, one hand gripping a mandible and the other raised with her fingers spread, ready to slash him down, even though her nails weren't strong enough for that. "You find this amusing?! Do you believe I cannot see what I am? I will not accept this insult from you, yautja!"
The firstborn had enough time to process what was happening, though. He clicked rapidly just before he released a deafening roar, effortlessly throwing her off with a strong punch to her side, making her body hit the wall on his left with a crash and grunt from her throat when she made contact. But the human was relentless, she got back on her feet and lunged right back at him, ducking when he tried to grab her and sliding through his defense with an uppercut straight under his jaw. It momentarily stunned him, but it didn't hurt enough to get much out of him other than a deep rumbling growl with a step back. He caught the opportunity, however, using her proximity, to grab her by one arm just as she was aiming another punch his way.
Then he rose her up and slammed her down on a table, breaking it with her back. She let her guard down, Kali chided herself in a second of catching her breath, only to whine at the throbbing of her muscles. Lar'ja stood tall and hostile over her sprawled body, as if he won the game. With disgust, she realized that she was the so called 'glorified win'. However, Kali was not done, she was not going to accept this defeat.
Gritting her teeth, she pulled her body up and stumbled back up to her feet, her muscles quivering. This had to be the most stupid thing she ever did. Not only was she exhausted from training and therefore, not in top shape to consider a fight, but she was going against one of the strongest yautja in the mess hall. With false bravado, she squared her shoulders and set her jaw, standing up to him in the most daring way she knew. He took a step closer to her, but she didn't budge, so he made another, his upper abdomen touching her chest as their eyes met.
This was it. She was about to issue a challenge, shove his shoulder back, when his hand shot up and caught hers in a vice grip before she could seal her fate "Ki'cte, l'ulij-bpe pauk!" did he really call her mad fuck? Her body went rigid, eyes widened and cheeks reddening in embarrassment.
"Ell-osde' pauk!" she snarled as she yanked her hand free, only for his head to lower at her, a snarl rippling through his mandibles. Instinctively, she responded with a growl of her own, not as loud as their species were capable of, but still very much there. The twitch in his muscles, the flare of his mandibles, the tense hostility he emmanated, it made her instinctively raise her hand and place it on his chest as if to keep him back from her personal space, uncomfortable enough with her chest pressed to his abdomen in daring. Her gesture, however, had a different effect. His growl broke abruptly into curious chirping and then a docile clicking of his tusks as his eyes fell on her outstretched arm.
His demeanor changed instantly, because he straightened up, puffed out his chest and let a warbled growl come out of his throat continuously, the vibration going through her arm and body in the weirdest possible way. Kali pulled her hand away immediately and inched away from him as if she had been burned. What the fuck did she do? The sound stopped and he watched her closely, with interest, not another soul making noise around them, all other yautja remaining silent throughout their encounter. Why was he giving her those….those bedroom eyes?
It was as if her mind blanked.
Amazing how she could kill something with her bare hands and spring into action in a second, but when faced with this, she couldn't even form words. A snarl and a growl came from behind her, which she was thankful for, especially when she saw it was Jac'in. The female's body was tense, mandibles flared and back arched, ready to leap in and rip his throat out if he took one step closer to Kali. When Lar'ja clicked and cocked his head, the yautja female marched to the human and grabbed her arm protectively, forcing her behind the large body of the huntress.
One last seething glare at the firstborn and she ushered Kali away in a very angry and incredulous series of clicks and warbled grunts. Kali'adah was foreign to the way the mating rituals happened, she just knew the down and dirty middle of it, didn't care to watch the interactions between a male and female before the whole rutting took place. It wasn't as if those would serve her in the future, therefore, that part of their culture, she didn't wish to know or understand very much. She did know the courting, because males threw their trophies at females and offered them stuff, she knew because it happened to her surrogate sisters. But after that, she didn't know there was an accepting the offer or rejecting it, she just knew that if the male was rejected, the female was going to beat him up, if not, she was going to...well, beat him up regardless, only difference was that she was going to beat him up while his dick was inside or at least trying...to get inside.
Nevertheless, she was dazed and confused when Jac'in walked with her in fast strides through the hallways of the ship, an urgency that made her agitated. "What...what happened...why…" the human female started, unsure how to even ask, yet her friend was quick to reply. "I knew there was something with that pauk'de male, I did not expect him to -"
"To what?" Kali stopped abruptly "Let us continue in my chamber, after I look upon the bruising."
well, hope you liked it! review please!
pauk'de = fucking
Ell-osde' pauk = fuck you
Ki'cte, l'ulij-bpe pauk = enough, mad fuck
N'dhi-ja = farewell
lou-dte kale = child-bearer
Thar'n-da s' yin'tekai = strength and honor
Ki'sei = i understand
mei-jadhi = sister
Sain'ja = warrior
Kha'bj-te = reckless
eta= servant
Sei-i = yes
Pauk'de zazin = fucking pompous.../ fucking bastard
Nain-desintje-de = absolute victory
Hulij-bpe pyode amedha = crazy soft meat
ooman = human
