Shouta hisses out a curse. He can't even have the satisfaction of glaring at his injured limbs, his ribs creaking worryingly when he tries to twist around into a better defensible position.

He can already see Hizashi's disappointed puffing, worried and angry at his recklessness. His injuries explode in a flash of pain when he tries to drag himself away from the smoking mountain of rubble, groaning metal all that's left of his explorer shuttle. The shock of the impact has faded, and he has barely been able to crawl out from the shuttle before his injuries crept up on him and the adrenaline swept away.

He loops his scarf around his mouth and nose to win himself more time. Falling unconscious because of the toxic fumes would be inadvisable.

He left his padd and comm behind in the confusion, and he hadn't been wearing his H-strap bag at the moment of the crash. Hopefully, the shuttle should have sent a distressed signal to the main ship as soon as it sensed the reactor failure. Even then, he missed two checks-in, which means Hizashi is on his way. He's going to be saved soon.

His relief is short-lived. His ears swivel toward the sudden sound, coming from beyond the clearing. Heavy steps, coming closer. From the pattern, bipedal.

Shouta goes through what he knows about the fauna of this planet. It can't be a sentient, there has been no reports of any signs of civilization. The most dangerous apex predator here is aquatic, and the others on the mainland are too small to pose a real threat to him, even injured. As long as he stays awake, he has nothing to worry about.

It's probably one of the herbivores. If he doesn't aggravate it, it shouldn't attack him.

…now that he thinks about it, he would be easy prey to a group of hungry scavengers. He only hears one creature, but if it calls for other members of its colony, he doesn't know how long he can keep them at bay.

Shouta holds his breath, doesn't dare move, not when he's tethering on the edge of unconsciousness, but he allows his fur to stand up straight on his back, and he makes the unburned length of his scarf hover around his face.

Whatever's coming is almost here, leaves and twigs cracking under its weight.

A sing song wail rings out, unlike anything he's ever heard. His hearts quicken, trying to oxygenate his muscles in preparation for a fight he can't afford to lose. None of the native scavengers makes this type of noise. Nothing on this planet should be able to sound anything close to that.

Bushes rustle, small avians fly away with distressed calls, small critters scurry toward him, toward the instinctually frightening smoke. Shouta has to keep a tight hold on his panic, desperately tries to dig in his memories for something that could scare the local wildlife so much they would run toward fire. He barely has time to prepare himself, when two fleshy paws shoot out to part leaves.

The most hideous thing steps out, a towering creature standing on two long hind legs. Its torso is much too short, forelimbs from which are attached its paws stretched out, shoulders aligned wrong.

Beady front-facing eyes, sunken in their orbits, start scanning the clearing in intelligent hunger, and to Shouta's horror, the tiny irises making it obvious where it moves its eyes. Shouta freezes, hoping it can only see movement, but his prayers go unanswered when its gaze immediately lands on him, taking in his injured form. He lets out a hiss, warning the thing to back off. It only tilts its head, eyes still stuck on him. The fur on its head stands up straight, bright purple in warning. Beware. Venomous.

Shouta pulls his lips back when it lowers itself, thinking him to be stupid enough to not see it among the long grass. "No. Stay back."

He keeps his voice firm, the same tone he uses to scold Engine and Lamp, and sometimes rambunctious kits that run too close to weapons at trading centers. He doesn't show how much talking hurts; showing weakness only means getting eaten early. He repeats the command when the creature does stop its advance, its face stretching vertically. It opens its mouth, eggshell glistening with saliva, and then…

"Nho. Staayy bhak. Nho."

His blood runs cold when his words are echoed back to him, distorted and monstrous. Shouta can't move without showing his limp, can't run away. All he can do is stand his ground and try to appear bigger to the creature. It starts up that lilting sound again, this time with mimics of his own voice.

His stomach tightens when it calls out toward the ship. Did it think he came here with others? Was this how it hunted? Aside from its ugliness and size, it looked thin, skin easy to sink his claws into. It didn't even have scales to protect its face, and nothing was shielding the huge targets that were its eyes. It didn't look like it could take anything head on. Did it mimic voices to lure out unsuspecting prey toward it, hoping whoever was running toward the fake pained cries would be too surprised to defend themself?

Shouta, on his last nerve, opens his mouth wide to showcase his canines, hisses, hopes it'll be enough.

It's not. Its eyes flit between the ship, his swollen limbs, his shallow breaths. It doesn't stop imitating him, its head constantly turning on its thin neck to look for other easy meals, others that might come, while it stalks closer.

It stops a tail away, too far for Shouta to reach out and claw it, too far to bite. Not that it would have done him any good—he can only reach its hind limbs.

Shouta eyes the furless predator, leaning away when it edges too close, biting down on his pained whine when his ribs creak. Thankfully, it doesn't come any closer, scared away by the smoke that has started pouring out from his ship. It crouches low and calls out again. Does it think Shouta's dumb enough to come closer? He's lucky it doesn't seem to understand he can't move, probably thinking Shouta is staying put out of stubbornness.

"Staayy bhak. Bhack. Stayy Bak." It gives up to go back to making those odd lilting sounds.

It won't stop staring at him, the white of its eyes unnaturally visible, making it apparent when its tiny pupils scans his body, fixating on his injuries in hunger. Shouta doesn't know how long it'll stay afraid of the smoke, when it'll realize he isn't able to retaliate if it decides to attack.

He hisses when their beady eyes linger on his sprained back limbs, relieved when it scuttles back, the fur on its head swaying but not falling out of its flare.

His blaster is its holster, back in what's left of his scavenger shuttle, lost in the crushed pile of metal. Crushed pile of metal that's starting to glow from the inside, the heavy smoke pouring out turning black. He lets out a curse as his throat seizes up. He has to get out of the toxic fumes' reach, far enough to not get caught in the potential blast perimeter, but the smoke is the only thing keeping the fleshy creature away.

It had to be an invasive species or it would have been reported in the community database. And, he thinks, glancing at the creature who goes to investigate his shuttle, circling it until it's upwind, it's too familiar with him and technology. From experience, non-contact wildlife were more wary, instinctually cautious of the unknown, the shuttle's loud noises and blinking lights sending the most vicious apex predator running. Could it be an imported exotic pet, forgotten on an expedition? It would explain the sheets of fabric covering its torso and lower limbs.

Or they had been abandoned here, far away from any sentient life, only posing a danger for what most considered an unimportant dwarf planet.

It unfortunately happens too often. A rich sentient buys exotic wildlife on a whim, parades the poor animal around for a while only to realize it requires too much care, that it needs more space than the small cramped room it's usually placed in, is too loud for their liking, too aggressive. Whoever was its owner probably didn't anticipate its needs, only thinking about being the talk of their quadrant. Shouta doesn't understand why anyone would do this when there's already so many types of pets designed for space travel. Whoever had it didn't even have the decency to bring it back to its natural habitat.

If it doesn't eat him and Hizashi manages to pick him up before he dies from smoke inhalation, he'll try to find where it came from. Maybe Nemuri can try to sedate it?

No matter. Shouta takes advantage of the creature's distracted state to limp away, doing his best to keep his weight off the worse of his injuries. If he gets to the forest, he can maybe find a burrow or a nook in a tree he can hide, anywhere the creature won't be able to reach him if it finds him.

He barely manages to get past the treeline when the creature comes running back, long hind limbs bending and stretching in sickening movements.

He ups his pace, hobbling away and gritting his teeth when each step jolts his ribs, and now that he's looking, there's an odd concavity at his middle left limb's shoulder that screams dislocation. He doesn't have time to dwell on it; the animal follows him from a few s'phars away, and everytime Shouta thinks it lost interest and he can take a break, he hears it come close, spots purple fur among the greenery.

It's the start of a grueling game of chase. It's toying with him, Shouta knows it. He's going to exhaust himself if he doesn't escape the creature or find a hiding place.

There's nothing he can squeeze into. Everything is too shallow, or within the creature's limb's reach. Shouta doesn't dare stop, but his body's limits are clouding his mind, making him stumble on every mount of dirt, choosing to let small branches slap his face instead of ducking under. In his haze and the unnatural silence, the shadows stretch out like grasping fingers under him as the planet's main star moves on the other side of the sky. Despite the heat of highstar receding, Shouta's too warm, the underside of his paws all sweaty. His despair is fueled by every glimpse of the creature, revealing it doesn't even look tired, while Shouta has to plough through his exhaustion. He's hungry, he's thirsty, he's in pain.

He can't go on any longer. He has to fight before he collapses.

Turning around toward where he last saw the creature, he plants his less injured limbs on the ground and shows off his teeth. He doesn't have to wait long; the fleshy predator catches up easily. Dread claws at his inside when his hissing and lashing tail doesn't even slow it down. It's closer than ever before, and Shouta realizes that he doesn't stand a chance—it's tall, three times his height. Even when it brings its limbs closer to its middle, it's bigger than Shouta with puffed out fur.

It lifts its paw up, fingers curled into its palm. Shouta freezes when it comes close to his face, blanking for a click at its carelessness, before he snaps his jaw around the animal's upper limb.

Blood wells up in his mouth as he sinks his teeth into flesh, the strong iron taste nauseatingly coating his tongue. He can feel its paw twitch in his mouth, like worms wiggling behind his gums, and it's almost enough to make him gag.

It's breathing hard, keeping its forelimb still, a wild gleam in its eyes. It lifts its other paw, and Shouta's dead, he can't do anything to prevent it from prying his jaws open and claw at his face. In a last ditch effort, he sends out his scarf to wrap around its head, hoping he can strangle it, or maybe knock it out before it can retaliate. The burns pulse hot as soon as his muscles tenses and they scrap alongside his fur, the grass, the animal's fabric, blisters and sheets of skin dragging until his mind blanks white.


There's a moment when his muddled brain, beyond the burning and the painful pressure around his limbs, realizes he's being held against something warm, two points of pressure supporting his weight from his chest and the back of his hind legs.

The last thing he hears before he falls back into unconsciousness is a gentle 'shhh' noise.


The first thing Shouta notices when he wakes up is the way his body's one single pulsing ball of pain. Even breathing is difficult; anything more than shallow inhales sets his chest ablaze. He's laying on something uncomfortable, lumps of dirt and leaves digging under his hips and keeping his head elevated.

The second thing he notices is that he isn't dead.

There's the lilting sound, to his right. It's the fleshy animal, moving around him, and Shouta has to force himself not to react when it comes closer. It stands silently over him, two holes boring into his face while it stares , why is it staring? The presence weights onto him, presses him down into the ground and only alleviates when it steps away.

Shouta takes the opportunity to crack his eyes open, just enough to see where he has been taken.

It brought him to its den and dumped him next to its food stash, consisting of berries and dead avians.The entrance is close, only seven s'phars away. If the animal goes out before it eats him, he can crawl out, hide in a bush while he waits for Hizashi. For that plan to work, he'll have to be able to move though. Bracing himself, he looks down to see what's left of his body.

He expects to find a gnawed limb, or maybe to be missing parts of his scarf. To his disbelief, he's whole. Nothing is missing. His wounds are even somewhat cleaner than he remembers. His sprains are worse though, all swollen with distended skin. His run around must have worsened his wounds.

Just as he's about to close his eyes again, the animal turns around, immediately zoning in on his eyes reflecting the low light. It stands there, still, before it suddenly crouches until its head is level with Shouta's, soft sounds coming out of its mouth.

Shouta hisses instinctively, even if he knows it isn't scared by him anymore. It stops its chattering at the very least, even if it doesn't back away. Of course, with Shouta's luck, it doesn't last long—it starts advancing without care, confident in its superiority. Its movements are bold, unafraid, even if Shouta can see that its paw is still bloody. The creature crouches lower, no doubt so it can take a bite out of him.

Shouta is prepared to bite it again when its forelimb moves forward. Instead of striking him, it pulls out a furry lump, grasped in its stretched out fingers.

The creature lets the lump roll off its paw, landing right in front of him. It's a critter, one he recognizes as native from this part of the planet. It's crushed and mangled, blood foaming up its mouth, eyes staring emptily into space.

He stops hissing, looking straight into its dead eyes. How much did it need to restock on food before it eats? Did it think the cold season was near?

The fleshy animal makes the same nk'h nk'h nk'h sound, over and over, pushing the critter closer to his face.

It's not restocking. It's—it's trying to feed him. It looks at him expectantly and he realizes with a start that if he listens carefully, the sound they make sounds like a coo.

The ugly thing is cooing at him.

His brain blanks in bewilderment.

The animal pushes the critter until it almost touches him. Shouta automatically recoils in disgust, immediately regretting it when his ribs shift in a way they definitely shouldn't. He squeezes his eyes shut, tries to ride the wave of pain squeezing his lungs. When the vice around his chest finally lets out, the critter isn't there anymore. Instead, there's a curved scrap of metal filled with water.

He's suddenly aware of how thirsty he is. His throat is parched, and when the creature pushes the water in his face, Shouta barely hesitates before letting his snout flop into the makeshift plate. He gulps the water down, feeling like his mouth's as dry as Hizashi's native desert.

When Shouta lays his head back down, water drips down his chin and wets the dirt under his head. It lowers his guard, so when the animal lifts its paw up, Shouta doesn't notice until it rests on his fragile skull.

Shouta doesn't dare move. It starts stroking his brow, its claws scratching lightly behind his ears. What the fuck is it doing?

When he looks at it, the furless creature is cooing again, lips turned upwards.

Shouta can't react, his thoughts racing against each other. Was it a social animal? Shouta knows some animals sometimes take in other species, but in all the cases he's heard of, the two species happen to look similar. Shouta doesn't look like the creature in any shape or form.

It hits him at that moment; the feeding, the caring, being cooed at, he's seen this before.

It thinks he's a young. He's never heard of any species having furry young that lose their coat as they grow, but he has also never seen an animal that had such a weird repartition of fur. Completely naked, aside from the mass of fur on its head and two lines over its eyes. Its previous owner might have shaved it, but surely it would have grown its coat back by now. Its pet clothes are teared up and dirty, showing the passage of time.

He has to take advantage of its confusion before it realizes Shouta's not only an adult, but a totally different species. Shouta will do anything to survive this and see his partner again. He swallows his pride and does his best impression of an Eer'ahseer kit.

Shouta's luck must be turning around because the creature looks absolutely delighted. It meows back at him and Shouta has to keep his grimace away. It sounds just like a kit, and if he hadn't seen its mouth move, Shouta would have fallen for the lure. What were the odds of falling on an animal whose youngs sound exactly like an Eer'ahseer kit?

It keeps petting his head. It makes sense, Shouta supposes. The parents must concentrate all their grooming efforts on the only patches of fur that their youngs will keep.

Shouta awkwardly lays there, in pain, while the creature grooms him, until he gathers enough strength. Waiting longer will risk depleting his forces. He has to move now.

The creature doesn't take notice of his dilemma, too preoccupied by his refusal to eat the critter. Shouta noses the metal plate and tries to give his most pitiful meow.

His plan works. It coos one last time at him before it picks up the plate and heads out to collect more water.

He waits several clicks, to be sure it won't come back, before dragging himself toward the exit.

Or at least he tries to. His limbs explode, stars dancing around the black creeping into his peripherals when he shifts. There's a pained whine he realizes comes from him.

When he opens his eyes, panting, he almost cries. Half of his body is still laying on the dry leaves. He's never going to make it before it comes back.

He makes another attempt, but stops immediately when he feels himself tether on the edge of unconsciousness, letting his head fall—softly, or as soft as he can—on one of his front limbs.

The animal is going to come back any time now and Shouta doesn't know how it'll react when it'll find him reaching for the entrance. It probably won't even notice, Shouta thinks deprecatingly.

It makes its lilting noise when it enters, chattering as it places the water in front of him. It doesn't notice Shouta's attempt to escape, cooing and carding its claws through his fur while Shouta laps the water.

When he's done, it takes the metal away, replacing it with the dead critter again.

Shouta turns his head away. He doesn't understand why it can even mistake him for a kit. It's smart, able to use tools and survive on this planet.

The creature leans forward to inspect him. Shouta takes the opportunity to examine it back and realizes with a startle that with its eyes too big for its flat face, its smooth skin devoid of wrinkles, and its comically large head, it looks startlingly like a young.

It makes so much more sense than the creature thinking he's its kit. A young is easier to tame and train, more sought after, and if it's this ugly now, Shouta can't imagine anyone paying for what its species would look like at maturity.

It hadn't grown into its viciousness yet and it has the curious explorative nature of a kit, prone to take things that catches its likings back to its den. He looks around and sees everything in a new light. The den is lumpy not from lack of care but inexperience, the ceiling threatening to collapse at the next downpour. It isn't in an elevated place either, risking getting flooded and wet. Without an older figure to teach it how to survive in the wilderness, without someone to copy, the only reason it hasn't died yet is because of the lack of predators. It calls for its parent like an Eer'ahseer kit for crying out loud.

Poor thing. It was all alone here, in a completely unknown place, trying its best to survive what was clearly not their natural habitat. It didn't even have all of its coat yet. How did it keep warm?

Is it even supposed to be weaned yet? It has to be, it wouldn't have survived this long.

Shouta lets it pet his head. It seems to bring it comfort by the way its face stops scrunching you. If it hadn't been taken away from its home, would it be laying with its parent, snuggling into a furry embrace, in a strong den, protected from the weather and predators? Or is it old enough to have started exploring its surroundings with members of its litter, play fighting and hunting together, sleeping in warm piles until it's strong enough to strike on its own?

The creature makes an inquisitive noise, nudging the critter one last time before it pats Shouta's head and gets up to head outside again.

Hunting? So soon again?

He watches bushes rustling behind the animal, until the leaves settle down. He's about to close his eyes to rest when something momentarily flits in the entrance of the den. Gold, with accents of red and black.

Several clicks pass where Shouta stays silent, staring at the entrance. Doubt starts to creep in and he's about to put it off as a trick of the light when Hizashi's peeks from the side.

"Shou, love?" Hizashi looks frantic, stress marks dotting his back. He has none of his jewelry on and he's breathing heavily.

Shouta lets out a weak chirp to help guide his partner. He can't move enough to sign, and the bottom of the den where Shouta lays is too dark for Hizashi's eyes.

Hizashi makes his way to him, only stumbling once. He pulls out a handheld med repair and a painkiller that he feeds Shouta. "Shou, are you alright, love? Are you okay?"

Shouta swallows the pill dry. He can't answer, and he knows Hizashi knows it. He flicks his ears in the entrance's direction to urge Hizashi to hurry up.

"I'm going as fast as I can, stop stressing me out." Hizashi starts with the burns on his scarf since they're the easiest to monitor and surface level. Shouta sighs in relief when he can finally coil his scarf back into his slit, only leaving enough length to loop around his neck two times. "You gotta stop being so unconcerned with your life. You really worried me, ya know?"

"Not fault crashed."

It's the wrong thing to sign. Hizashi's gular pouch expands in anger. He keeps his touch gentle, but his movements are jerkier by the time he gets to Shouta's ribs. "The shuttle and everything around it was gone when I came down. Do you know how long I looked for your body?"

Shouta's rising indignation deflates. The shuttle must have exploded while he was unconscious. Shouta can't imagine what he would have done if their roles were reversed and he was the one to stumble onto the crash site, thinking his partner was incinerated.

The ground is suddenly very interesting. He can't even apologize; his middle limbs can't move.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Hizashi's angry rasping stutters in the middle. His ribs mend and each breath should be easier than the one before, but the lump in his throat is getting harder to ignore. "You have to be more careful. What am I supposed to do without you? What if I'm too dumb in my next life to recognize you?"

Shouta hisses in protest.

"Actually, you're totally right. Out of the two of us, you're the one who would be stupid enough to not remember."

Anger is better than desperation. It's still unpleasant to be lectured by Hizashi without being able to defend himself.

Hizashi is moving the med repair to his limbs now. His sides still twinge, but the bruising and swelling has gone down, and it's enough for Shouta to shift over without blacking out from the pain.

"Do you think you can walk?"

He only has one front limb, one middle one, but if Hizashi repairs his back legs, Shouta can last until Hizashi's shuttle.

He's about to answer when the damned familiar silhouette blocks the entrance of the den. Shouta realizes the predicament he's put his partner in when the animal jolts, head snapping toward Hizashi. It immediately starts shouting, threateningly waving its forelimbs. In one of its paws is a small aquatic animal that the predator brandishes. The prey flops around, as if to entice Hizashi away.

Hizashi startles back, immediately dropping everything so he can make himself bigger, puffing himself up until he's double his own size. The creature isn't impressed, takes a threatening step forward. Shouta aches to crawl closer to his partner, but his swollen limbs won't let him. He meows in an attempt to distract the creature, to call it back. It stops in its tracks, shifting the weight of its eyes onto him. "Sthayy bak? Staay bak."

It crouches to stalk toward Hizashi. It purses its lips and starts speaking Standard.

Hizashi's entire head has turned black. "What the fuck is that? What the fuck is that?"

Speaking might be generous. It's only saying a random series of words, butchering half of them beyond recognition.

His partner opens his mouth, unhinging his jaw wide to show deep black. It's usually a good intimidating method, but the animal only lets its lip curl on the side.

"It's an abandoned pet. A young one too. Do you have a sedative?"

Hizashi lets his mouth fall even wider, refusing to let it out of his sight. The creature flinches back this time, paws coming up to rub the lower part of its face. "Sho, darling, that's a human. Why is there a human here?"

A human? That can't be a human, can it? Shouta squints at the creature. The persistence hunting would make sense, but—"It didn't even try to eat me."

Hizashi shifts to hide him away, hitting his tail on the ground to create a cloud of dust, but the soil is too wet for the trick to work.

"Mhyne?"

Shouta gapes at the creature. It's looking right at him while it says it too.

"No. Mine," says Hizashi. To emphasize his point, he places his tail over Shouta's back, pulling himself closer.

The creature's eyes flick between the two, before it tilts its head. Its voice turns clickety, like it's repeating something it heard many times before. "Ug'y fuquer."

Judging by the accent, its previous owner comes from quadrant B34. They were also an asshole.

"Let's get back to the ship," Hizashi says in Standard so he can keep his tail and limbs ready to defend Shouta.

The creature—Shouta refuses to accept it's a human—mouths Hizashi's words. For a click, its eyes go wide before settling back into a neutral expression. It repeats the last word in Hizashi's sentence.

After a slight pause, it says, words all jumbled with different voices, "Seet." They plop on the floor.

It waits to see if Hizashi and Shouta witnessed what it did, before saying in another accent, "Rol."

It twists until it's on its back, exposing its stomach for longer than necessary, before getting back up. "Dephend."

Hizashi jumps when it suddenly shows its teeth, snarling and spitting at an invisible enemy.

It turns to them, breath coming in quicker after their demonstration. Finally, it says, "Pholo."

It doesn't do anything, only continues staring at Hizashi intensely.

"Oookay." Hizashi slowly reaches for the med repair, and when it doesn't move, he starts healing Shouta's limbs. The edema goes down, and when he looks, his ankles are less deformed.

Shouta leans his weight onto Hizashi, trying to control his wobble. It still hurts when he walks, but it's bearable.

The human gets out of the way when they hobble out of the den, but they get the human's meaning when it starts trailing behind them. Hizashi tries to shoo it away, but it's persistent, ignoring all of his orders. Hizashi tries to help him progress faster, but a pained hiss makes him stop with whispered apologies.

"I don't think we can get rid of it."

Shouta glances back at the creature. It tilts its head to the side, before it says, "Follow. Ship."

"We can't leave it here." At Hizashi's incredulous expression, Shouta continues, "It's an invasive species."

Hizashi's tail lashes out. "Shou, Light of my sky, Warmth of my nights, are you suggesting we let a human, a Deathworlder, onboard our tiny ship?" The creature repeats itself, unaware of the conversation they're having. Hizashi ignores it to sign, low and slightly annoyed, "You and your stays."

"It's not my stray."

"Yeah, yeah, just like Engine wasn't your stray, or Lamp, or that kit that got lost in that market at E90, or the—"

Shouta nips his partner right over the angle of his jaw. "How far?"

Hizashi stops his teasing to sign, "It's about five feeps away. We're almost there. Do you need a break?"

Shouta doesn't answer. Hizashi gets the message and they continue in silence, only interrupted by twigs breaking and branches rustling behind, where the human's keeping pace, and the occasional call of a native avian. Soon, but not soon enough for Shouta's limbs, a shuttle comes into view. A passerelle lowers itself, flattening the tall grass.

"Almost there, Shou."

Hizashi pauses right in front of the ramp to shift more of Shouta's weight onto himself. Hizashi tries to command the human to 'Stay' a few times before abandoning when it clearly has selective obedience. It shuffles close enough that Hizashi can't close the ship on it.

"Pholow."

Shouta represses a shiver. For some reason, it doesn't sound like it's repeating someone this time, like it truly understands what it's saying instead of mindlessly repeating words. It can't be though. The hunger and dehydration mixed with the painkiller are making him imagine things that aren't there.

It has to bend its head to get inside, the ceiling not tall enough for it to stand completely straight. It looks excited though, rocking back and forth. It seems comfortable, like it's spent a lot of time on ships before.

Shouta is lowered to the closest cot. The human coos at him, saying gibberish in his direction until Hizashi orders it to sit.

It plops down on the floor, right next to Shouta. Hizashi tenses when its paw reaches out, but it only pets him lightly.

Hizashi buries his face in his wings. "How do you even get in these situations?"