Her heart was in a panic. She didn't need 250lbs of yautja pinning her down and ramming his cock into her cervix. She'd already been there, done that. It wouldn't solve any of her problems. If anything, she'd be sore afterwards and still unable to sleep.

She turned her face away, "No...Please, no."

She was surprised to find it was as easy as that-his hand immediately released her arm, and he took a step away. She ran her other hand through her blond hair nervously. He lingered for a moment, his eyes still on her, but then he eventually turned and left. She let out a distraught sigh, then sat down onto the pelt, resting her back against the wall. She was onto to plan #2 of her mission to get done rest: counting sheep.

In the morning, Amara watched the grey and black deer prance around in the tall grass as she tended to the garden. Her stomach growled, and she considered eating whatever weird vegetables were growing before her. They went into the food made for the wrinkly pigs, so she assumed they were safe to eat. She glanced around first, looking for the yautja. Then, she grabbed one and walked to the spicket.

After washing off the fruit and glancing around again, she took a bite. It looked like an eggplant, but felt like chalk with a rubbery outside. The taste wasn't so bad though, kinda like a raw potato. She grimaced at every single bite, the texture putting her off. She was hungry though, and downed the whole thing.

She buried the stem in the garden, hiding evidence. Before she could get back to work though, her stomach started to gurgle and ache. Amara ran inside, unsure if she was going to have diarrhea or puke. She ran up the stairs to her cell and stuck her fingers down her throat. She hurled over the toilet, instantly feeling better.

The metal collar and bracelet were relaying her health to his wrist controls, so as soon as she wiped her mouth, he was at the door.

"El'l aba." She quickly apologized.

"Fet'ki." He growled. Explain.

"I ate one of the vegetables in the garden."

In an instant, he attacked. She didn't even have gone to flinch. He charged at her, grabbing her throat, and threw her up against the wall. Her head spun and his bubbling growl seemed to penetrate down to her bones. Bits of the stone wall crumbled from the impact, the pieces falling to their feet.

"Yuu steal food!" He snarled.

Her chest was absolutely heaving with ragged breaths, but she was unharmed. She'd expected broken bones, but it seemed that even though he'd thrown her up against the wall, he'd held his arm behind her to cushion the blow. The stone bricks behind her were cracked, yet she was only a bit shaken up. He had immense power, and control. He could have easily killed her, yet chose not to.

"Some ed'i'ble. Some ar poi'son." He rumbled, then let her go. His arm was bleeding, dripping fluorescent green.

She stared up at him with wide eyes, "I'm sorry."

He huffed and said, "Get bak to wor-k."

When it came time for her cleaning chores, she usually avoided the kehrite if he was in there. This time though, she wandered into the back of the room, and began scrubbing the floor. He was on the other side of the long room, with a combi-stick in hand. He practiced with a hologram target that moved and reacted to his movements. He was slashing and stabbing at it with savage precision.

Amara payed little attention to him, until the room grew eerily quiet. She looked up from the splattered green stain on the floor, hoping that he wasn't staring at her. He had the hologram turned off, but still had the combi-stick. His movements were slow now, like he was practicing capoeira or something. She'd seen yautjas aggressively going through combat moves before, but not this.

He was doing slow, meditative movements, testing his balance and refining his coordination. It looked like some sort of entrancing dance, except for the moments when his weak leg made him falter. She wondered why he didn't just heal his leg. Was there some reason it couldn't be fixed? Amara was under the impression that yautja technology could do just about anything except bring things back from the dead.

He turned to her suddenly, "Spar?"

She'd sparred with yautjas before, and even when they weren't out to just beat her up, she still ended up with welts and bruises. "No thanks."

"Cle-an or spar."

She hadn't even realized that she'd stopped scrubbing, and promptly returned to her chores. He still had a combi stick in his hand that was about six foot long. She didn't want him to decide to use it on her. By the time she'd cleaned everything on that side of the *kehrite* he was still in there, training. She picked up her stuff, and headed out to clean other rooms.

However, she stopped in the doorway and quietly asked, "Are you going to go hunt for food tonight?"

His gold eyes met hers, and he slowly let his stance relax, "Will yuu pre'pare meel?"

"Yea."

Without another word, he collapsed the combi stick and left the room. Amara stayed and cleaned, dreading that he would come back with a dead animal, and yet hoping for it as well. Pretty soon, if she didn't eat, she wasn't going to have any energy for chores. Her former owners, even the nice ones, had called her fat though. Amara supposed that if he didn't bring back food, she'd just look at it as an opportunity to shed a few flabby pounds.

The yautja tracked her down and presented a small dead animal to her. It looked like a fluffy, plump ferret. He held it by its rear legs, and let it dangle lifelessly in front of her. Amara tentatively took the animal, holding it far away from her, and walked to the kitchen. The yautja opened a drawer and then handed her a small knife to use.