When Dumala left, it had a profound effect on her, though she didn't exactly understand why. Dumala had rejected her. The alien female checked her health and made sure no permanent damage had been done to her ears, then she was led back to her cell. After that, Nicole began to mope. She tried not to think of Earth, but she couldn't help it now.

Nicole had been given up for adoption. It wasn't at infancy, her mother tried hard to keep her, but at age five she finally committed to the decision. She had little memory of her mother, but she had been very young. She remembered reading the reports when she was older though. Her mothers name was confidential.

The reports were kept simple, noting the date that the mother surrendered custody. They said that the noncustodial mother wanted to see the child. The noncustodial mother had been crying. She had pictures of herself as a child with the foster families, but their faces had been cut out. That way, when she was adopted her new family would have photos of her growing up, and they won't have strangers faces in them.

The problem was, she was never adopted. She went from foster family to family, until she was eighteen. On Earth, she had kept pictures of her youth, with no one in them. Though she had great memories with the foster families and the other children, she never felt like she ever had a family. Now, she was on an alien planet with no chance of returning to Earth, with no chance of creating her own family.

Dumala sat in the huge pool bath filled with cleansing water . His mind was on the delicate ooman. In his prime, during the mating season, if he stumbled upon others mating the females would shove off the other male to mate Dumala instead. Females would lock eyes with him from down the streets, across rooms, and during ceremonies with the intent to mate. Some females traveled from other clans just to sire his offspring.

Some bearers asked that his sucklings be trained by their great sire, but Dumala always declined. Now, he regretted it. If he had trained just one pup maybe they could have bonded and he'd have someone to converse with. No females approached him anymore. The only female that he thought might be genuinely interested in him was the ooman, and he'd made her eyes water.

That didn't mean that he couldn't make it up to her. Dumala rose from the bath and began rubbing scented oil on his skin, and on his dreds. He usually wore the same brown tattered loincloth, but instead tied on a black langot. It looked more stylish than a simple loincloth, and showed off his package more. Then, he adorned himself with jewelry made up of small bones and tiny skulls.

Before he left, he looked up ooman greetings. He wanted to surprise her by saying something in her language. However, more then six thousand different languages appeared, and he realized that oomans didn't have just one language for their planet. Since he didn't know which one she spoke, he picked the top three most spoken languages. He quickly memorized the three different greetings, then went to the brothel.

When he got there, the yautja female tried to get rid of him, "Your little ooman isn't available. Come back later."

"I want to see her."

The female looked up at him, scoffing at his attire, "Your serious?" Her amber eyes looked him over curiously for a moment, but then she looked back down at a tablet in her hands, "The ooman is busy."

"I am more important. Whatever she is doing can wait."

"She is getting ready for a customer."

The female could have kicked his ass, but Dumala grabbed the tablet out of her hands, "Cancel her appointment. She will see only me."

The female growled as she towered over him and snatched back the tablet, "That is bad for business."

"I will compensate you every time someone tries to make an appointment with her."

The female backed away, lightly tapping her nails on the tablet, "Alright, I will set the youngblood up with a different ooman."

The female stamped his palm with the ink that would trigger the sensor and unlock the door, then went to go retrieve the ooman. Dumala went into the room, climbed on the bed, and waited for her. The yautja female slid the door open and shook her head at Dumala's suggestive posture. Dumala was laying in the bed with his arms behind his head. Nicole stepped inside and crossed her arms.

He tried the first greeting, "Ni hao."

Her eyes were focused on a wall.

"O'la."

Her brows pulled inwards as she turned to him.

He let out a rumbling purr, being that she would recognize the last greeting he'd memorized, "Hel'low."

Her lips almost curved into a smile, and she said, "Hello."

Dumala trilled. Now that he knew which language she spoke, he could memorize more words, buy a cheap translator, or even learn her language. He tipped his hips suggestively and motioned with his hand for her to come to him. Nicole shuffled to the bed, trying her best not to look at him. Her cheeks were already burning red.

He grunted and motioned her closer. She didn't want to push her luck with this guy. She didn't know if denying him would get her punished or not anymore. She shouldn't have rushed it. Still, he had been so mean the last time, for no reason, and so she didn't climb into the bed.

Dumala just wanted to feel her soft flesh against his, but the ooman was avoiding him. He'd dressed up for her, and spoken her language, but that apparently was not enough. He had to else to win her favor. He sat up, and moved to the edge of the bed. She backed away.

He gestured down the length of his body, "Dumala." Then he pointed at her.

He was asking her name, "Nicole."

Dumala didn't try pronouncing it right away, but committed it to memory. When he tried to reach for her, she moved away. He clicked his mandibles, unsure of how to apologize to her for last time. He purred and advanced towards her. He pursued her as she backed away, just hoping she'd touch him and he'd gain consent.

He quickly had her in a corner, and Nicole wanted to shove him away but resisted the urge. He pressed so close that when he inhaled his chest was nearly touching her. She grit her teeth, trying to ignore his smell. It was different from last time. His musky smell was tainted with cinnamon.

It smelled amazing on him. As she waited for him to back away, she took notice of his clothes and jewelry. It was different from last time. He still had the metal collar around his neck, but also wore metal bracelets, a string of small bones, and even a ring. She wondered if he'd dressed better for her.

He hunched down to lower his face to hers. She stood utterly still as hit hot breath landed on her face, on her neck, then down on her chest. That rattling purring began again, weakening her resolve. That heady musk assaulted her, making her body yearn for him. She tried not to breathe.

Dumala took a step away. The ooman was rejecting him. His chest felt painfully tight at the realization of his failure. There was nothing else he could do if he couldn't speak an apology. If she did not give consent, then he could not press her hands to his dreds to try that again.

Nicole watched his orange eyes as they flickered away from her. She should have just touched him, as that's what she really wanted to do. She sighed as he turned his back to her and went for the door. She almost said his name to get him to come back, but decided against it. She didn't know what good it would do.

Suddenly though, he turned around and headed back to her. He took off his cloth covering and her stomach knotted with fear. Dumala took off his string of skulls and laid it on the ground. She watched as he removed all of his other jewelry, and even kicked off his scandals. Then, he took off even the metal collar.

She was ready to be attacked by him, but instead, he lowered to his knees. He motioned her closer. She was skeptical, but same to stand in front of him. He purred deeply, and lifted one of his dreds out to her. He was offering her to touch him again.

Nicole didn't trust him, but she reached out her fingers and touched a metal bead in his dreds. She cautiously looked into his eyes, then wrapped her fist around the fleshy strand. Dumala deepened his purrs, trying to keep her sedate, hoping she wouldn't try to harm him. The strands were more sensitive than she could know.