Jar-hidda had gone back to the door, opened it up and was staring at the sheet of white. He had kneeled down on the knee of his broken leg, something she was sure would hurt, but he wasn't bothered. He was scanning, his mask back on and his mesh clothes keeping him warm. She wasn't sure why he was fixated by the snow. Sure, she could believe his homeworld didn't even have snow. But he had been out in it before, for nearly a whole day. Maybe it was simply because she was so used to it that she didn't see the wonder or beauty in it anymore.
His scrutiny didn't seem like awe though. He stared at the wall of frost for a few minutes before lifting up and shutting the door, a little hard, with an annoyed growl.
"Cho't," he growled, and she wondered what it meant. It was said with distaste, maybe it was an expletive, maybe it meant 'cold.' Maybe their word for 'cold' was an expletive.
"How's the leg Jolly?" Hannah asked as he moved towards the fire. He looked at her and she tapped her leg. He responded by moving the crutch and putting weight on it, growling slightly. So it hurt enough that he didn't want to abandon the crutch, but was healed enough that he could if he needed to. Good to know.
Hannah was dusting, something that needed to be done often in a wood cabin. Something she had been neglecting. She left the spiders and their webs where they were. They were more good to the cabin than harm.
"Hannah," Jar-hidda gruffed and she looked over at him. He moved his hands apart, loosely fisted as if around something, then made the sign for give. He wanted his little spear thing. She set the feather duster down, done with the chore anyway, and went to go get it. She figured that she would give him his things as he asked for them. He didn't seem eager to get them all back at once, just when they were needed. This was the first time he actually asked for a weapon though, and not one that could have a dual purpose like his knife.
She brought the spear back up, though 'spear' wasn't really a word, it was only about a foot long with two bladed ends. She handed it back to him and he nodded, putting the weapon on his back. His backpack held most of his things it seemed, seemingly magnetically. She plopped down in the chair by the fire, looking into the flames. He looked back outside and pointed. She wasn't sure what he was asking. She figured if he wanted to go outside he would have asked for all his things.
"What Jolly?" she asked, getting out of her chair and moved to the window. She parted the curtains but only saw snow one foot away from the glass. She wondered if he had noticed Weyland's people, though she couldn't fathom how, but he didn't seem ready for an attack. She didn't get it. Then she looked back. He had taken her chair!
Her mouth opened wide. He had tricked her for her chair? That clever….
"Hey!" he looked at her, "mine!" she couldn't tell what his expression was through the mask, and couldn't decipher the rattle he gave her. She threw her hands into the air but he didn't respond, just settled more into her chair. She put her hands on her hips and growled in her throat. Out of a seat, she decided to face the mess in the bathroom since he was being the way he was.
An hour later and his mess was clean. It hadn't been so bad, but she hoped that the snow would melt enough that he could go outside soon. Hopefully he wouldn't put himself through that again on her account, not that he owed her anything really. She was paying him back for saving her life, even if it was unwittingly.
When she came out Jar-hidda wasn't in the chair. She grinned and quickly swung into it, plopping down heavily. It was still very warm from his body heat. She glanced around for him then went upstairs to look. He was by the cages, peering at them. He had one of the lids open, and she felt a chill go down her spine despite the heat. She rushed in yelling, and he looked over at her. She grabbed the lid and slammed it down on the cage and he rattled in surprise, moving back up and limping.
"No, Jolly," she said shaking her head and pointed, "rattlesnake," she said and put a hand to her throat, "poison."
The alien rattled and looked at the cage, "rattlesnake, poison," he repeated. She nodded, not sure if he actually understood as she secured the clamps on the lid.
"This is Kali," she said quietly, "I found her half frozen about a year ago. Don't know why I saved her, felt bad for her I guess," kinda like him, knowing he was as dangerous as he was.
She moved up from her position on the floor, passing a hand over her brow, not to remove the sweat. She looked at Jar-hidda, who was stock still, looking at her through his mask, dead silent.
"Don't touch," she said, holding her hand over the cages and shaking her head, "don't touch."
He moved his head and rattled, turning and leaving the room. She watched him go for a minute, wondering what would have happened if she hadn't come up. She wasn't even sure if Rattlesnake venom would be venomous to him, or if it would be even deadlier. She didn't want to find out. She then pondered why it was okay for him to turn his back on her, and not the other way around?
She walked out after him, following him down the stairs. She paused at the landing and took a deep breath, composing herself. Jar-hidda turned to looked at her, holding his crutch rather than leaning on it. He tilted his head and rattled. She descended the last two steps.
"I'm okay Jolly," she assured calmly, "you just gave me a scare is all," she knew he didn't understand what she was saying, but she knew the best way to learn a language was immersion. That meant that just talking was supposed to teach him, somehow. She realized that he wouldn't be with her long enough to truly pick it up. Still, it was someone, sentient, to talk to.
She moved to the door and opened it up, throwing on a coat. Jar-hidda grunted and looked at her, "I'll be right back, I have to make sure nothing's wrong with the generator and fill it up," she stepped outside and sidled along the wall of the house. The snow outside had melted some, enough that a tunnel wouldn't be entirely necessary. It was still deeper than she was tall, but if she had to guess, she would be able to walk on top of the snow in a couple days.
She cleared off and checked the generator, topping it off just so that she wouldn't have to do it tomorrow. She put the gas can back by the house and huffed. She moved around the house and to the ladder, climbing up. She got onto the roof and looked out through the trees. There was a faint paranoia after Jar-hidda's trick that Weyland was out there, waiting. She saw nothing though. A forest thick with different trees, some bare-limbed waiting for spring, some evergreens cloaked in snow. Her mother had bought this land, had the cabin built here as a place they could go to whenever she was not away on contract. They had 'discovered' the cave on the mountain together, named it after themselves. This place had been theirs, now it was only hers.
She looked up at the blue sky, the sun had recently made it over the peak of the mountain and would shine on this side for a short while before setting. Even in the brisk cold, the sun felt warm against her cheeks, coloring her breath gold. She inhaled the cold, closed her eyes. After her mother's death, all she had wanted was to be alone. It was too much to ask for. Even after Jar-hidda was healed, his ship would certainly need to be repaired, taking more time. Possibly it would never be fixed. What then?
Hannah opened her eyes. She could not imagine the future, living as she did, thinking ahead usually didn't extend past the next winter. She imagined that Jar-hidda would not tolerate wintering here ever again; he would probably leave of his own accord, to warmer climates, driven by instincts she could not comprehend.
She stared out over her home for a while, before she hopped over the edge of the house. There was enough snow she was uninjured by the fall, and she waded back to her house. She shook off the snow and entered through the door. She began to shed her coat, looking over at Jar-hidda who was exploring again, closer than his previous once around.
He was bent over the table by the window, looking at her entrance with a sharp turn of his head and a grunt, before going back to looking through the drawer he had discovered. She had put her gun back within, but there was also her wallet, the keys to her truck, several packs of batteries, and a few envelopes.
"Nosey alien," Hannah scoffed as she hung up the coat. Jar-hidda rattled and pulled out a picture frame. He rattled, looking at Hannah, pointing at it then at where it probably should be, on the table with the other pictures.
"That's uh, Bishop," she said and walked over, pointing at the man in the picture, "and that's my mother," she pointed at the woman. They were all together with a number of other people, including a dark-skinned man, another Caucasians with a scarred face. They were standing, and a few kneeling, in front of a tropical backdrop surrounded by a village and many young children with skin much darker than the man standing next to Bishop.
"My mother worked for Weyland Industries, well, worked more for Bishop himself really. She was a mercenary but she had taken several contracts from him. They were pretty close, not as close as him and Max, but Bishop was a decent guy, not like his prick of a son who's in charge now. They all died together in the same expedition about… twenty-five years ago. They never told me how."
Hannah ran a thumb over the glass pane over the picture, "I was fourteen," she said distantly, "when Weyland told me that my mother had died. I remember sitting in that guy's office, being told repeatedly that my mother wasn't coming home. I would get the money from the contract, and her life insurance when I was eighteen, but they wouldn't give me, what I wanted most. I wanted to know why or how they had died, but they kept telling me it had just been an accident.
"They were lying to me, hiding things, telling half-truths. Eventually Weyland was tired of my demands and had me escorted out," Hannah sighed, "in the hallway, I crossed paths with one of the people who had been hired for the expedition, some environmentalist, she was the only one who had survived. I remember…," she narrowed her eyes, "I started crying, I grabbed her arm and begged her to tell me what happened. Even as they were dragging me away I kept crying, wanting to know. They didn't give her the chance to answer either, pushed her away down the hall. She kept looking over her shoulder though. I saw in her face that she was sorry. Never heard of her after that, figured Weyland made her disappear."
She sighed. Jar-hidda was silent beside her. She moved her hand to put the picture back into the drawer, hesitated, then flipped out the support and put it on the table, "I guess this can go here now," she let go of the picture, Jar-hidda looking at it, rattling and tilting his head. He looked down sharply as she roughly shut the drawer with a loud slam.
"Stop being nosey," she half-teased and walked away to take her wet boots off by the door. She stripped off the wet socks, making an uncomfortable noise and looking at her already wrinkling toes. She looked over at the bathroom, hesitant, but ultimately decided on taking a hot shower. She hardly ever did so, the plumbing to the cabin was complicated, being fed by the natural water from the mountain, and heating it up took quite a bit of energy from the generator. But she felt like she had earned herself a bit of indulgence.
She turned on the water heater downstairs and moved back up, gathering a change of clothes and a towel and locating Jar-hidda in the kitchen, inspecting a spoon.
"Hey, Jolly," she called and he looked up. She pointed to herself then where the bathroom was, "I'm going in there," she said and walked over, indicating him to follow, "if you," she pointed, "need me," she pointed at herself, "knock," she rapped on the door three times and watched him. He tilted his head and she decided she was clear enough. She half-wanted to leave the door open to keep tabs on him, sure that he wouldn't have the reservations humans did about the body in its natural state. She was probably as ugly to him as he was to her. If anything he may be offended because she was showing off her hideous form unashamed.
But privacy was so ingrained into her mind as 'proper,' that the idea of leaving the door open while she showered made her uncomfortable, nevermind him. He eventually turned away from her and she frowned at his hipocrasy, but then disappeared behind the door. She came out a minute later wrapped in a towel and scooping up Smaug, who was threatening the alien again, and took him into the room with her. She didn't need two incidents in one day.