I do not own Predator vs. Alien

I do own the species of the little hunter, and her herself.

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    Chapter 7

Moment of Appology

When he woke up the pain was gone. his eyes fluttered open and he weakly examined his surroundings, mandibles twitching lightly. There was a little padding sound next to him and the small creature came into his view. His face contorted in anger, mandibles clicking in an unsupported threat or warning. But the small creature just moved its tail close to his face. He tensed momentairly before he realized something was balanced on it's tail...

His mask being off, he could see nothing but red and black swirls that represented depth (Or so it looks like to this author.) his nose, however, supplied the unmarred identity of what he saw. Vegetables, heated fruit, and various types of meat impaled on a thin spit.

he blinked in surprized, looking at the creature distrustfully. Was this an... appology of sorts...? Then, slowly, he reached forward and took the spit, bringing it toward him. The creature just retracted its tail and sat down, watching him innocently. He snorted, grumbling, but began tugging the food off the spit with this mandibles.

Being partial to cooked food, as we have said, he continued eating. When he had finished, it offered him another spit of meat, and so the process continued until he was full.

When that point came, surpizingly enough, the creature did not offer him more food, as if it knew...

At last he came to full conformation that, at least some of the time, this... thing... could view his mind.

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Moment of Insanity

It looked down at him quite innocently, curious in expression. He snorted at this, mandibles crinkling, and tightening. Then he felt down toward where he knew there would at least be a scar or something from the thick wound it had caused.

But there was... nothing... He blinked, looking down at himself, and feeling over his belly. nothing, not a mark. His eyes widened again as he looked down at himself. That couldn't have been a dream! That... pain... It was so real... He nearly choked on the realization that maybe he WAS crazy. Maybe he had finally crossed the line, gone mad...

If that was the truth, he'd rather be dead.

But no, there was his blood, staining the ground and wall next to him. But what if that wasn't real? He could pick some up and flick it at the theif-creature and see if it dodged or if the blood hit it... But maybe it's dodge would be unreal too, a hallucination? What if the creature wasn't REAL? What if it was just some side product of skitzophrenia or mad hallucinations? The more he swelled on it, the worse it became. After all, what other explanation was there for something THAT small that could overpower HIM?

What if all this wasn't real? What if he was some sickly dying creature in a coma somewhere, or all this was an insane dream?

He started breathing faster, hyperventilating. his vision was fogging as he started shaking with every breath. The Little Hunter, alarmed, reached forward, gently laying a hand over his taloned one, the one currently gripping his abdomen. He practically convulsed, turning his head to look at it. Gently it ran a talon over his hand, and he shivered as a line of green blood appeared, oozing down his hand. It lowered its head, its lips parting, blue fluid dripping from its mouth into the wound. Spot by spot, the pain faded, and when he calmed and lifted his hand to examine it, the last remaining indications of the wound faded before his eyes. He looked back at the theif-creature, still a little unnerved, but no longer breathing so rapidly.

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Moment of Rest.

Poor creature. He didn't even trust his own mind. That must have been the real, subconcious reason for why he lived alone, and why he suffered from paranoia. The theif-creature moved, comming up beside his face and laying down perpendicular to him., reaching forward and straking gently over the crown of his head.

He quivvered violently, but slowly relaxed, his eyes closing. He couldn't help this reaction... The Predator needed the... perhaps, 'reassurance' is the right word. He gave a sigh and his body stopped tensing. And the Yautja gave into whatever fate and truth that lay before him, his manicing subsiding.

Its talons ran gently over his forehead and the side of his cheek, strangely soft and tender. He breathed out, letting his shoulders droop, his muscles relax. So what if he was crazy? Nothing he could do about it.

After a long time his weakened mind relaxed as well, and he slipped into Slumber.

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Reviews and Such

Dont worry. I wont kill the pred. YET. BWAHAHAHAAH BWAHAHAHAHA HOOOHWAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!

.... Now that that's over with...

This chap was a bit short but the next one's already written, just have to transfer it to my comp.