I am, unsurprisingly, the first to hear the disturbance. I wake and do not move, feigning sleep and trying to discern the precise location of the scrambling, scratching noise at the side of the cave we have sheltered in. I am cold; painfully cold, when I first wake, shivering violently. My breath hitches in my chest, and I am forced to set my jaw against the shuddering. I close my eyes again and take a breath, two.

I am Vulcan, I am in control. Pain is of the mind. There is no pain. I am in control.

The shivering stops, but the noise does not. Claws, large ones, rapidly moving along the outside right wall, that do not sound like the movements of the creatures we previously encountered. They are too heavy and too slow. They remind me most acutely of I-Chaya, the Sehlat my family had owned as a child on my planet. I-Chaya had not, of course, ever climbed anything she could avoid; but the movements are correct. I push upright slowly as the sounds draw nearer, and move to the mouth of the cave. Instantly the wind hits me; it brings with it the freezing, seemingly constant rain of this planet and I draw to the side, using the cave as a breaker of sorts. It also serves as cover against the eyes of whatever beast this may be. Doctor McCoy had mockingly remarked only hours before that I was unable to know when the rain might end on this planet; I had not given him the answer I should have. I had not lied- I can not lie- but misdirection is a different thing.

I had misdirected because in truth, I am not certain the rain will cease for a very long time. Based on the behavior of the creatures and the force of the rain- is has neither slackened nor paused in the days we have been here- I can only assume that the rains here only one time a year, for the rest of the year. The creatures and animals would feed and gather reserves up until the monsoon, for lack of a better term, would begin. Then, any of them not willing to brave the storm would take shelter- very probably in a cave like our own- and either hibernate for the rest of the remaining time or simply wait.

I had no desire to argue the point with the Doctor, however. His entire stance would simply be that I had no proof, no factual way of knowing. A logical, rational deduction on my part, proof or no, and later he would concede the point; but the strain of our situation would cause him to act out at first, and I am most usually the target of his temper.

In the future it might become necessary to bring to light; at the time, it would have only caused raised voices that might have revealed our shelter to less then desirable others, and placed McCoy in a belligerent mood. It would have lingered and perhaps affected the Captain, as well; I have often noticed that they seem to feed off of each other.

I wait until I am positive that the other two stranded members of my party will be able to hear the creature before I take a knee and shake the Captain's shoulder gently. He wakes almost at my first touch, heart hammering and waves of sudden adrenaline rolling from him to knock against my shields like waves crashing against a cliff face. If I linger too long, I have the irrational and illogical thought that he will eventually wear through them with the sheer force of his spirit alone, and that, more then his wakefulness, has me drawing back perhaps more quickly then I should.

He is awake but not completely awake- he blinks blearily at me and opens his mouth to speak, confused. I quickly hold a finger to my own lips in the universal gesture for silence, and his mouth closes, head tipping to the side, listening. He lifts his gaze to me after a moment, wild and anticipatory. The feel from him has changed to excited- something I have never fully understood. He enjoys the thought of danger- even seeks it out. He does not enjoy seeing death, or injury of those people he cares for, but he will throw himself almost blindly into a situation despite that.

He reaches over to McCoy, repeating much the same process I had just completed with him, and within minutes we are all three huddled by the mouth cave, listening to the creature outside draw nearer.

And then it is here.

And we all stare, even me, unable to properly react.

What we are looking at seems to be a very, very large badger. She is easily the size of I-Chaya, which explained why her movements were so alike. I-Chaya was small for her race, standing only six foot at the shoulder when on all fours. I suspect this female does the same.

She is also very, very pregnant. Even if it wasn't for her swollen stomach I would be able to sense the kits inside her. She is close; within days. I look at McCoy, who has been able to tell the same only moments after myself. His eyes are wide with awe and no small amount of fear. I can feel it coming off him the way I could feel Jim, moments before; his projections are quieter, though, calmer.

Despite repeatedly commenting on his impulsive, irrational nature, McCoy is far more logical then he will admit to anyone. For a human, he has found a fairly centered balance of emotion and logic. It is only that it tips far too much towards emotion when pushed. All the same, being in close contact with him and being in close contact with the Capitan is the difference of standing in a room with someone speaking normally or someone yelling. McCoy feels; Jim feels loudly. He does not mean to cause me discomfort; he simply doesn't know better, and likely could not control it if he did.

The creature shuffles in, seemingly utterly unaware of us, and it only takes a moment to realize she is blind. She does not, however, lack a sense of smell. Once inside she goes very still, head raised as she attempts to pinpoint our location. None of us move or speak; we are very still and very tense as she decides we are not a threat and makes her way to the back of the cave. The captain lets out a slow breath, straightening up, but his movements are slow and cautious. "She doesn't…..know we're here?" He asks uncertainly, voice halting oddly in the unique speech patterns he demonstrates when thoughtful or considering.

"She knows." McCoy breaths. "She knows, alright, but apparently she's too concerned with other things to care."

"And we do not, apparently, register as predators." I add.

"How could we be? She's twice our size." Jim mutters.

"All the same, be careful. She's about to be a momma, and ladies get testy around this time." The doctor's voice has taken on a strangely affectionate lilt. I lift a brow at him, and he mimics it back at me, but I, again, do not need any help to see the affection behind it. I give him a look of what he would read as disdain and turn away, relaxing slowly. The creature has curled up in the back on the cave, unable to stand because of the cramped confines, and is 'watching' us.

While resembling earth's badger, there are significant differences. Her size is the most notable, and if she took to her back legs alone she would, indeed, be easily twice the size of any man here. Luckily, unless she and we exit the cave, this is not possible for her, and I doubt she would be inclined to do it at any rate. She also sports very large, pointed ears- no doubt this will be the source of many jokes once Doctor McCoy deduces we are in no danger, or we return to the ship- that are wide, bat-like, and end in tuffs of white fur. It leads me to realize that her entire species must be blind, and the ears are hyper sensitive. Likely her other senses are also significantly heightened. Her claws are easily six inches in length, curved slightly, and she has a very long, slender tail that seems very agile and flexible. Her coloration was wrong, too; aside from the white fur at the tips of the ears, she was various shades of blacks and browns. It was why we had not seen her until she was nearly on top of us. She has perfect camouflage for a creature that moves at night. Even her ears can be explained away as a lure for smaller creatures, much like some deep sea fish do.

Now the only concern is if her diet includes small mammals like most of her smaller models. If so, at her size, we certainly classify.

Jim is thinking the same thing, for he turns to me and jerks a hand in her direction.

"Can you-"

Ever since he discovered my ability to 'speak' with other creatures, he has cautiously been coaxing me to do so more often. In truth, it is not something that is remarkably upsetting; making 'contact' from a distance is not what can become dangerous. Or at least, not as quickly as touching them and initiating a full meld. It is illogical for me not to use my ability in situations like this; when it could be a simple misunderstanding that might result in death or injury to any of us, including her. I can prevent that. If she is intelligent and not merely a beast, it will be easier; but even a beast can be influenced.

"Of course I can." I say, deliberately taking him literally. "And I also will."

He gives me an irritated, amused look but steps back to where the Doctor is, and they confer in soft, low tones as I step forward. It will be slightly more difficult, as the invasive cold I am still keeping at bay is a distraction, but nothing spectacularly challenging. I extend my hands slowly- the motion is unnecessary, but it provides a 'focus' of sorts. As I reach out I also reach out, cautiously, taking my time. Too quickly, and it would become potentially dangerous for both of us. I am still aware of myself. There is little danger of that changing for the moment.

She is surprised at my touch, and she is intelligent, at least as intelligent as the arachnid-creatures that were hunting us before. She is not frightened by me, merely quietly impressed that I am able to speak with her. She's never met anything outside of her own race that can. Her voice is deep, a pleasant rumble that I can feel all through my body. I introduce myself and my companions, and explain our situation here. She gives me a sense of amused tolerance and suggests we come closer inside. She knows we are injured and cold. I repeat this, and the Doctor laughs a little.

"Don't forget hungry, sore, lost, and being hunted." He mutters, and while I know he is merely being difficult, I can see the logic in letting her know all these things. Perhaps she can help. I do so, more eloquently, and she wants to know why- I tell her.

"She says we should join her." I say after a pause, lowering my hands and 'pulling back' from the connection I made. "She offers us….warmth, at least, for the night."

"Does she know when the rain will stop?" The Captain asks me.

I had been correct in my assumption. She had confirmed it. "The rain will not stop, Doctor, not for many months." I resist the urge to shudder. We will have to travel in the rain tomorrow, after all. I can control myself, of course, my reactions, but that does not mean I am excited about the prospect of being made to do so. I am not used to cold.

"Two seasons." Jim grunts. "Wet and dry."

"Crude, but accurate, Captain." I reply.

"Looks like we'll have to move in the rain after all. At least for now," He straightens as much as he can and comes over, slowly, looking at me with uncertainty. I nod, and he reaches out slowly. She extends her muzzle to his hand, and he touches it lightly. She nuzzles and within moments he is scratching her and moving closer with a smile. "We have a pretty lady to keep us company."

Sometimes, I wonder if there is any woman-besides a Vulcan woman, of course- in the galaxy that Jim could not charm.