The Gutting of a Galka
/"Where do Galka come from?"/
Loic was bored. He had nothing interesting to do and the tavern he'd situated wasn't full of the more interesting types who should be haunting a dive like this. And to top it off, an old drifter had settled himself in the seat beside him. He'd been yammering on for four hours.
Just when Loic had begun to court the idea of using a Meteor indoors, the old man had said something that caught his ear.
"And so these funky furry 'gents go out into the forests-like and back comes this babe fresh youngun to take their place. :hic:" "But they're all males. And decrepit. Do they mate? And where do the progeny come from so swiftly?" "Well, they say them Gawkers are immortal-like, 'cept... hack-wheeze :cough-cough:...they don't 'member nuffin the last did so's 'm not t'sure." Loic left the tavern, paying off his tab with only a small Meteorite shower.
As he strolled out of town, his mind began to roll around this conundrum. Where did these perplexing creatures spawn from? Various possibilities formed then dissolved in his head until just one seemed to fit. Perhaps the Galka were asexual, despite their maleness, and developed the next generation alone. Of course, since males lack the necessary space to carry and grow their offspring, the pups or cubs -whatever they were- burst from their abdomen when they were large enough, thus killing the parent and obviously creating a filthy, gorey mess. Not that regular live births are any cleaner, of course. Which is why they go out into forests; to spare the rest of the tribe from the revolting display. And they wait as long as possible because, really, who wants to get pregnant if it's going to kill you?
It fit. It made sense, well, at least in his mind anyway. It was settled then, he'd have to test out his theory. Hell, it was something to do anyway. So Loic set out for the nearest Gawker- uh, Galka colony and awaited the elderly.
Luckily for him, not so much for his target, he didn't have to wait long. As nightfall approached on the day he'd arrived, a perfectly ancient old thing stumbled from the village and out to the conveniently nearby stand of trees. Strange, he thought. This hunched and withered man was thin in his old age, leaving a sunken cavity in his middle a bite of food couldn't fit in. This one must simply be going to die, he thought. So he aided the thing with his blade and awaited another.
It was two weeks before another came. An unrelated village had burned to the ground to pass the time. This time his subject was a rotund old geezer whose face was red from the strain of the short walk. Much better.
"How far along are you?" "Hm?" the surprised Galka stopped and considered the question, "Well I'd say I be pretty near the end, hence the trip," he answered finally in a deep throaty voice. "Perfect." "Hm? Ah!" Loic lashed out and deftly slit open the creature's abdomen, spilling intestines and various organs to the dirt. But... no... baby Galka. Oops. Shit. So much for that theory. Oh well. He left the dead and bleeding remnants in the road and wandered off to find another pub.