Between Feathers and Federation - 4 (NSFW) (Patreon)

Finalized Version will be on Furaffinity on the 15th; you can also go back and read the FA version of Chapter 2, you will find we added a page or two explaining the genetic modifications of Feyet and how her imprinting works.

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“Your village?” Feyet looked at Scratches with her eyes wide in shock at the very idea. The fact she had already broken every first contact and primitive directive of the Fjer Pluma Star Monarchy and the Fjer Alien Research Society was bad enough, but to fully contaminate their tribe would be a violation beyond any ethical research or morality problem. Then it hit her like a starship collision: I imprinted upon her! I’m imprinted with her! My body will register her as my mate no matter what I do now! All of my research is compromised! I threw away my life’s work for this… this… Her mind was fighting her. One part wanted to say alien. Another screamed the word primitive at her but her mind simply wouldn’t allow that. No, the word that hammered home the most wasn’t a Fjer one, it was a Terran word. This… lover.

She froze as Scratches watched her carefully, her brow furrowed in worry for her mate while Feyet just continued to give a thousand yard stare, her eyes held wide in frustration and confusion. “Feyet, yes, meet my tribe, show I have mate. We must,” Scratches insisted as Feyet tried to blink her eyes away.

The purpose of retaining imprinting was to help prevent emotional and physical abuse as well as all but eliminate divorce. You simply grew together, and your mind placed the empathy towards those you imprinted upon above your own needs via hormones and other bio-chemical processes. Her species had a domestic abuse rate of less than 3 percent, and further, you tended to have better understanding between parents and children than non-imprinting species. It did have risks, and in Feyet’s case, this was definitely an edge case outlier. She had mated with an alien and allowed herself to imprint on her. It was just one of the pitfalls of imprinting that was so extremely rare.

“I shouldn’t meet your village, not yet. I have a lot of…” She tried to find a good word that would be understood. “What is a word you use when someone has a desire for you that remains more taught or unspoken between you?”

Scratches blinked a few times. “Your calling?”

Feyet realized just how simple the word was for this. “Okay, we have a word for when it’s less about what your calling or destiny is called expectation. I expect you to hold me right now, or last night I expected you to remember to be gentle without me telling you again.”

Scratches tried to put the concept together, but for the first time, she frowned. “I do not understand? Understand is right word, yes?”

Feyet nodded and let out a sigh. “Right, we’ll work on it later, but my people, the other Fjer, would be… angry, very angry, at me, if I met your whole village.”

“What? Why? They should be happy, you have mate now.”

Feyet grimaced and felt her heart sink into her stomach. “It is very complex, but I am not even supposed to meet you. They might even kill you and burn your body when they find out,” Feyet replied with tears in her eyes, the underlying torture that she had been hiding the whole time finally seeping out. Every time she had paused throughout their evening to debate if what she was doing was right or not, the answer her society told her was NO, but the answer her heart said was yes and she did not wish to deny her heart anymore in her life.

“My people would be very unhappy, and they would kill all of you to keep the secret,” Feyet grumbled as she tried to piece together something, anything at all, and was shocked when Scratches possessively grabbed her and held her tight with a snarl of anger.

“I’d like to see them try! We kill them all for you!” Scratches snapped her jaws to emphasize her point. Feyet realized she needed to put things into perspective.

She had a backup laser pistol that would hopefully help, but right now she couldn’t access it. What she could do, however, is express something to Scratches that she would understand. “Scratches, calm down, I do not want violence between our tribes, okay? Look, your people wouldn’t know they were there until it was too late. Remember the thing you stepped on, the metal, remember how sharp it was? How deep it cut into your foot, how hard and resistant it was? How you barely scratched the floor with your claws?”

Scratches nodded. Feyet had to help her truly understand the gravity of the situation. “Remember when we met, you kicked me with the killing-claw on your good leg? It did not cut me.” Scratches nodded at this again, feeling like something else was about to come from what was being said. “Synth-thread is what it’s made of, and it is the lightest of hides we wear. There are things called armor, it is clothing, hides, made specifically to protect you from harm. The plasteel thread it is made of will stop even the jaws of a Slaughter-Gnasher.” Feyet used their word for the largest predator on the planet. Scientifically, they were called Gigaphoditus and were one thing that Feyet knew to stay completely away from. If it came near she’d have to use her laser pistol at max power to immediately repel it. “And they can shimmer-walk like I do.”

Scratches remained silent as she took in the idea that, while her tribe might kill a few of the Fjer, they would not be able to deal with enemies they could not see, whose weapons could cut through their skin better than any claw or tool. Even the jagged black onyx spears that they used for throwing as adolescents could not compare to this metal stuff. “So, is this metal?” Scratches tapped the wall with her snout a few times. Feyet nodded. “And this?” She tapped the floor with her feet dangling off of it. Feyet nodded again. “So much of your home and tools is this metal?” Feyet nodded again.

Scratches grew silent as the two of them sat there staring into each other's eyes. Scratches’ were filled with concern and a furrowed brow of heavy thinking, while Feyet’s were big and watery, her thoughts of sorrow overwhelming her in this moment. Feyet felt she finally had to make the choice; find a way to break her imprinting, or… she hesitated as the bubbling inferno of a battle between herself and her civic ethics raged. 

If you could educate her and prove they are sapient, that would make it where they would not kill her or them… You’re just saying that so you don’t have to break this off, there is no way– Feyet’s thoughts were shattered by a kiss to her forehead, the softest part of Scatches’ mouth pressed delicately between her eyes. She blinked it away as Scratches caressed her feathered horns and softly cupped her head with her free arm.

“Feyet, you be okay?” Scratches asked with a tone in her voice that Feyet had yet to hear. She suddenly perked up.

“Empathy, step one. Okay, Scratches, I cannot meet your tribe, but your tradition requires that we are witnessed, yes?” Feyet asked as she tried to imply a few things. First off, Scratches thought of the future past this moment, and second, she had the empathic capacity to understand emotional feelings beyond the current moment. That was step one and five of proof of sapience out of ten. She just had to get information to prove that at least Scratches was fully sapient without changing her too much.

“Yes, we must be witnessed by the tribe,” Scratches replied with a beam of pride that made her push her bare chest out to Feyet.

“Can an exception be made? Can you only show me to, say, a shaman or a tribe chief? Someone in charge of keeping the secret so my tribe doesn’t find out or act?” Feyet implored, trying to find a solution that would not radically change or alter the tribe’s perspective on the world and the universe.

Scratches nuzzled up against Feyet’s cheek. “I think others will become angry, over secret mate.”

Feyet shook her head. “Lover, mate is a term we do not use anymore.” Feyet took a breath as she rephrased the outdated word from a people who didn’t even have the concept of a calendar yet. “I know it’s only been one night, but Fjer imprint when mating. It is why we normally are so careful about it.” Feyet immediately realized that she really didn’t have very good ideas for words to replace for imprint, and before Scratches could ask, she cleared her throat for Scratches to wait and listen. “Imprint is something that happens with Fjer children when they are born. The moment we hatch from an egg, the first creature whom feeds us, we identify as our parent. Our parents identify us as their children as soon as they see us. We share our worry and desire to protect each other. We changed ourselves so that we do not mate randomly or without purpose. We call what we have done sex, and usually, we would not have sex without choosing to imprint upon the partner first or not. It discourages casual relationships that could cause pain and instead makes Fjer more likely to feel empathy for each other, as well as work out our problems directly.”

Scratches took all of this in and had to think about what was being conveyed, She was processing but there were many foreign words there that would require some explanation, whereas others she could pick up context clues from. “I understand, you call mating sex; mate is a relationship, yes?” Feyet nodded and hoped she had gotten the concept across. “What is identify, discourages, casual, empathy… what do these mean?”

Feyet took a deep breath to center her thoughts. “Relationship can also mean friend, enemy, child, or any sort of person whom you have memories with,” Feyet said, having thrown out history and reputation for fear those would be even more new words. “We still call each other our mates, we just allow that you can have more than one single mate.” Scratches recoiled with shock from Feyet as the realization dawned upon her.

“Do you have more than me!?” Scratches asked, both question and demand.

“No, no I do not,” She reassured her.  “Identify means that you assign meaning to a single thing. As an example, this is my, Feyet’s, bed,” Feyet said, patting the bed then pointing at the hide clothing on the floor. “That is your clothes. They are not just clothes, but they have an identity of being yours.”

Scratches held her head, having started to get fatigued and a headache from all the things she had learned in but a single day. Her mind was not used to having to deal with so much new information, but she was at least absorbing it. “Discourage is telling someone NOT to do something but only if they want to obey, and you don’t do it by simply saying it out loud. You make it where doing it is harder. A casual thing is something you do when you are not taking it to heart or making it the thing you are focused on, and…” Feyet trailed off trying to remember the last word.

“Empathy, what is empathy?” Scratches asked, leaning in close, staring at Feyet. She was hanging on her lover’s every word at this moment. All else was isolated and tuned out as she waited for Feyet to explain the word.

“Empathy is feeling for someone else, feeling what they feel by having felt the same at some point. Going out of your way to talk about it or trying to make them feel better, not alone, and that someone is there to be good to them in times of need.” Feyet chose her words extremely carefully and hoped that every one would be understood. “Like, when you say I love you, and the person says I love you too back. Both of you know what love feels like, so you are sharing that feeling and empathizing with one another by returning the feeling they are having with your words and actions. When I was in distress, as I thought about what to do about meeting your tribe and what my people may do, you hadn’t even heard what was making me sad and fearful. You simply held me close and asked what was wrong. That is empathy.” Feyet felt a warm tear rolling down her cheek, matting her feathers, then another, one on the other side into the bed…

Scratches took all this in and her own simple way she said nothing. She reached over and simply wiped Feyet’s tears away, one by one. She held her close and nuzzled up against her cheek. “Morning come, I will take you to Shaman Herald of Wind. I trust him. He will meet you, in secret, know what is best for protect tribe.”

Feyet felt a pang of fear grip her heart. “If that is best, that we not—”

Scratches shook her head. “No, no, he will not tell us to part, no one can do that now. We are mated, only you can throw me out. I cannot throw you out if I wanted to, unless you hurt me with claws and teeth.” Scratches explained in just a single sentence the tribe's concept of marriage, divorce, and how it worked between them. Feyet nodded and felt her own fatigue catching up with her. 

Now that she allowed herself to completely relax, she virtually fainted into Scratches’ arms, despite the fact they were lying sideways on the bed with no covers over them. Feyet’s scientific mind was screaming about violating her directives, but also at all the valuable data it had collected, however emotionally spent she was. She could no longer keep herself awake and aware, she could only embrace Scratches and the void of sleep.

Scratches took a moment and, as gently as she could, shifted Feyet until she laid on the pillow. There was only one, and even if there were two, it would still not be big enough for Scratches’ head. She pulled the blanket over them and held Feyet close, not sure how Feyet found the temperature in here comfortable, but the blanket felt really nice, and so did Feyet’s very warm body. The two slept the night away, nothing else to bother them.

***

A strange beeping that gradually grew louder echoed around them. At first, Scratches popped her head up, thinking it was the angry commander, but Feyet reacted slowly to this beeping. It was different, less of a shrieking alarm and more just some rapid tones like the recessor, but repeating with pauses over and over again. “Feyet! Alarm! What is alarm?”

Feyet rolled over unwillingly, leaving Scratches’ grasp and pressing the button on the alarm protruding from the wall. “Just my wake up alarm… uggghh…” Feyet growled as she looked over at Scratches. It was 07:15, like it was every morning she woke up. Dawn would arrive in less than 10 minutes, and from there, she could begin to track hunters.

Today was not that kind of day. Her legs ached, her throat protested from being fucked the previous day. Her ribs were definitely bruised now that she had slept on them. Feyet slowly pulled herself away from Scratches. “Come on, Scratches, it’s time to get up.” Feyet paused as she realized she had integrated Scratches into her daily routine in her mind already. Yep, I imprinted on her, or rather her on me. There is no going back now. She paused her thoughts for a moment and admitted to herself, There was no going back the moment you did not refuse her in the lab, to be fair. 

She got up and picked up her clothes, throwing them into a pile to be washed. She gathered Scratches’ clothing, noticing the smell now that the room smelled less of sex. Feyet began to sniff the air for the source, moving closer and closer until she realized it was Scratches’ clothing and Scratches herself. She let out a sigh, remembering that the tribe of Uladon and Arrasius only bathed on special occasions. Yesterday, they had the same smells of the jungle, panting heat, and sex on them. The heavy smell was overlaid with blood and rubbing alcohol, as well as the food.

“Scratches, get out of bed and come with me.” Feyet grabbed Scratches’ hand, showing trust that Feyet was unaware of, and tugged Scratches slowly out from under the blanket. Scratches had not seen Feyet take charge like this. The level of comfort this smaller creature had to tell her what to do stunned her. Feyet led her back into the bathroom. 

Feyet looked at the standing shower, realizing that it would be a very tight fit if they got in there together. She also realized that, without her help, Scratches would not know how to operate the shower. Scratches took in the bathroom and this chamber that Feyet had opened the door to. It had a strange flat metal circle at the top and a long metal shaft attached to it. There were many holes in the circle. Further, there was a large very smooth rock with a set of red runes and blue runes in a semi-circle above it. Feyet was figuring things out, and then she realized she was just going to have to make a mess.

Finally, Feyet pointed at the small circle on the floor that Scratches hadn’t noticed, since she was busy looking at the many containers like the medical herb on shelves around this chamber. “Scratches, stand there. I need you to remain calm, okay? I promise it will feel good, but first it will be…” Feyet stopped and thought about it. “You know what rain is, right?”

Scratches nodded with a chuckle as she stepped onto the metal circle with the holes in it that led to a bigger hole. “Yes, we know of rain. We collect. Is pure water. Good for you.”

“Okay, I’m about to make it rain.” Feyet reached for the half-sphere of metal and twisted it. Before Scratches could reply, water wholly too cold shot from the circle right at her head level and cascaded onto her. She jumped back and pressed her back against the far wall of the chamber, knocking over the bottles and clattering them onto the floor. 

“Scratches, Scratches, calm, calm. It’s me, it’s your mate, the water will get warmer.” Slowly, the knob was turned to the perfect spot. Feyet tested it every few seconds until she found it comfortable, steam beginning to accumulate in the stall. It felt divine, Scratches had only seen hot water used for cooking, nothing this nice and elegant.

“This is how I disguise my smell and how I clean myself. Now, let’s get you under the water, okay?” Feyet stood outside the shower with the door open, much of the water scattering across the rest of the bathroom floor. Not that it would be a problem; there was another drain on the edge of the shower room, and Feyet could clean it up later with a janitorial drone.

Scratches stood in the water and let out a relaxing coo and a soft moan of pleasure from the embrace of the heated water. Feyet gathered one of the bottles in her talons. Scratches was surprised when she squeezed into her hands a thick, gooey, mud like liquid. The brown liquid looked like the result of a bad night of food poisoning, but it smelled like sweet fruits and sacred wood; there was a hint of sandy deep earth in with grains of dirt rolling in the liquid. Feyet began to scrub and lather it across Scratches’ body. 

The feeling of someone rubbing and roughing her feathers up was unpleasant at first, but once Feyet found the direction of her feathers and worked with them, Scratches was in heaven. The delicate thin fingers stroked her tail, bit by bit, rubbing the sensitive appendage that could be used to measure the wind or steer during running now provided waves of pleasure from the massage and preening. Feyet also made her gasp and covered her mouth from the lewd act of groping her tight thin butt at the base of her tail. Unlike Feyet’s, which was large and had meat on it, Scratchess’ was all muscle. That didn’t make it less erotic, just harder for Feyet to outright cup nothing but butt. 

“Feyet… Feyet… oh, it feels so good…” She cooed as Feyet worked on scrubbing and lathering up the soap, which filled and overwhelmed Scratches’ senses. Then, as soon as Scratches got completely relaxed and lost in Feyet’s touch exploring her hands, feet, thighs, calves, back, belly, everything… it stopped. She slowly opened her eyes, looking a bit confused and feeling slightly disappointed it was done.

“There, now step off and use this to dry yourself, and this to help preen and comb out your feathers.” Feyet held out a towel and some sort of tool that looked similar to the fork, but longer with many more points on it. They resembled her teeth but were clearly not sharp.

Scratches grabbed the towel and started to dry herself, but she looked at the comb, her hand not sure how to hold it or operate it. Feyet took the comb, pushing aside her morning irritation and realizing she would have to show Scratches how her technology worked. Even something as simple as a comb was beyond Scratches’ ability to make. They usually used a knife or their teeth in her tribe, from what she remembered of her observations.

Feyet was getting excited to touch every part of her mate as hot water cascaded over her. It felt so intimate and taboo to her kind, but the kind of taboo you wanted to violate. The moans coming from her lover echoed in her ears, driving her to try to get another moan, another groan, another gasp, any more vocal encouragement she could. The tension melting away under her touch and hot water sent small vicarious thrills through her spine. 

She got to caress every part of Scratches. She could see every part of her mate in her mind, precisely what it felt like, how it was shaped, the curves, the muscles, the bones underneath, every detail committed to memory that Feyet never wanted to forget and she wanted to cherish for the rest of her life.

She began to scrub Scratches not to clean her, but to elicit pleasure from her, to feel every part of her flesh, to rub deep down into her muscles, to feel Scratches melt under her touch. That was her purpose now.

The only sound between them now was the water hitting the tiles, draining away, and Scratches’ moans of pleasure. Feyet wanted to show her how to use the comb, but decided to do it all herself. She was not quite done listening to Scratches' lovely noises. She kept brushing, preening, and working out every feather to get them back into their proper place over the scaly skin underneath. She was surprised how vocal Scratches was about her tail feathers, both growling when it was even slightly off and then the near orgasmic moans when the feathers were worked in the correct direction.

By the time that Feyet had finished all the work, Scratches looked so much better. All the dirt of the jungle was gone, but Scratches still smelled of the jungle. The smell was more pleasant though, full of fruits and the deep wood used for the incense of the priests. When Feyet was done, Scratches looked like a well groomed mate about to go on a prom date, no longer the savage hunter that had come in here.

Feyet made a sharp whisper and fluttered her eyes at Scratches with a grin across her face. “My turn.” Feyet stepped into the water and began to shower herself but Scratches interrupted her. Having learned from Feyet’s movements, Scratches copied the bottles that Feyet used and applied them in the same order. She began to lather the soap and shampoo across her feathers. “Hey what are you—”

“No, you did this for me… I do it back. Now you be nice, let me,” Scratches declared, continuing to massage down one of Feyet’s legs and back up the other. Her hands moved back and forth slowly because she was actively avoiding using her kill-claw digit, only seeking to massage, in the way Feyet did, moving up the length of the leg in slow, gentle, loving circles with the curve and swirl of Feyet’s feathers.

Feyet let out a blushing cackle when Scratches groped her butt and lifted the two cheeks that were hidden under her tailfeathers. The same butt she had wanted to touch ever since she first saw it. It was so squishy and soft compared to an uladon’s. She kept squeezing it, listening to Feyet gasp and moan. The smell of arousal filled the air in addition to the soap and water. Feyet was getting worked up by Scratches groping her rear. She wasn’t about to tell Scratches to move on, and instead let Scratches keep going. She pressed her tongue to top of her beak, in the same way a human would bite their lip. Her eyes were closed as she embraced the feeling of bliss and worship that shot arousal through her.

Feyet melted under Scratches’ ministrations. her body became more like jello, it became almost impossible to stand up, only for Scratches to follow her mewls and moans, grip her above the waist by the back with one hand while massaging her belly of feathers and breasts, slowly peeling up the feathers to get to the skin underneath. Scratches was just following her mate’s bliss and pleasures.

She found tension in a muscle and rubbed it until the tension evaporated. Every miniscule muscle needed to be tended. She groped Feyet’s lovely breasts that rolled back into her arms when she leaned down, until Feyet’s wet, shampoo soaked plumage threatened to touch her feet. 

“Feyet, are you okay?”

“Yes, Scratches, oh yes… fuck, you have made me feel so good.”

Scratches did stop though and moved on from scrubbing her back, much to Feyet’s disappointment. The Fjer let out a long exhale of frustration from being worked up with no payout. Feyet reached between Scratches’ legs to rub at her, to try to make Scratches just as horny as she was. 

“No, save it, you may need it later, and we must get to the tribe soon,” Scratches explained, and as much as Feyet wanted to protest, she was right. If Scratches did not show up before the sun was fully up, they would begin to worry and send out a search party.

Feyet finished the shower, sexually frustrated but completely relieved of tension as she took longer to dry herself and comb out her much thicker layers of feathers across her body compared to Scratches, Despite being just over half of Scratches’ size and a third of her body weight, the smaller Feyet took longer to bathe, dry, and preen her much thicker layers of feathers.

They heated up the food from the previous night, and Feyet recessed another two meals that Scratches had particularly enjoyed. Feyet noted that she was going to have to put in the order for food in the next three days at this rate. She also took the time to clean up the kitchen with a cloth, getting Scratches to help her by drying the trays and silverware they used so that the cleaning could be done much more quickly. They got dressed, Feyet donning a fresh labcoat and a slightly thicker synth-thread suit with a small set of ceramic plates along the arms, thighs, and her front and back torso. 

Scratches raised an eyebrow and pointed at the plates. “That armor?”

Feyet nodded. “In case the shaman is upset and attacks or something else goes wrong. I always wear it when… right, plan.”

Scratches nodded. “Plan? Like, what we are going to do?”

Feyet nodded at Scratches, proud of her for learning that word on her own. Scratches put on her hides and Feyet even helped straighten and tighten them for her. “I will be shimmer-walking, well,  what you call shimmer-walking is cloaking. I will be cloaked. If you are unsure if I am there, just twitch your kill-claw in irritation like you do normally. I will whisper in your ear, ‘I am here.’ to reassure you.” She took a moment to let all of that sink into Scratches’ mind. She holds a finger up to Scratches mouth to indicate she isn’t finished and wants Scratches to listen very carefully to what she says next.

“Find Herald of Wind and get him alone. I will be there. Talk to him first, then talk about us being mates. When he is willing to see me, I will stop the cloak and reveal myself, okay? Use your word, Shimmer-Walker, so he understands. Try to not use any of the words you learned from me, or you will have to explain them, okay?” Scratches slowly nodded to Feyet.

“We go back to village, you shimm… no, you cloak. If I worry, I twitch killing-claw, you speak to me and only me in whisper. Once I get Heralds of Wind alone, I talk to him about you and convince him to see you, then you no cloak and talk to him about us being mates, yes?” Feyet nodded when the plan was recited to her almost exactly as she described it, just in a lot fewer words and more direct.

“Okay, come on Scratches, let’s go. I will follow you.” Feyet took a second as they walked through the lab area at the entrance. She reached over and opened part of the wall with a small black panel that revealed a rack of three of the strange tools that Scratches had crushed when they first met. It was the same thing that Feyet had reached for when she realized that Scratches was attacking her.

“What is that?” Scratches asked, pointing at the strange tools with a place for a fourth that was empty.

“My weapon, just in case I need it,” She explained and took one, putting it into the holster on the side of her inner bodysuit. She put her new labcoat on and added various things to her pockets before sealing them with strange interlocking metal teeth. Just like the teeth that Scratches had pulled apart to make her naked the night before.

Feyet walked up and pressed the black panel. “Come on Scratches, we should get moving.” With that, Feyet vanished under the protection of a cloaking device with a fresh power source. The wall opened, back to where Scratches had come in, the two of them setting out together towards Scratches’ village.

Feyet walked along, silently as she processed what she’d just done. I’ve betrayed my oath as a researcher and violated several galactic treaties in a single day. Further, I have moved to not only keep this relationship but advance it. All because… Feyet trailed off as her heart skipped a beat looking at Scratches’ form. Her eyes focused upon the swaying tail and powerful thighs beyond it. Feyet stared both sexually and in the way one looks at a lover as they walk away, with a skip in her heart and lust in her mind. She looked so sweet, but Scratches looked a bit worried and confused. The cloak was at full power, so even a shimmer wasn't present.

Feyet walked right up to the worried Scratches and pressed a hand against her shoulder. Though invisible, she could feel it. She turned off the volume muter on the cloak for a moment. “Hey, I am here. You look lovely today,” Feyet commented with a smile on her face, raising her cheeks in a way she could feel but no one could see.

Scratches could hear that smile in her voice and softly pushed the hand off her shoulder. Scratches reluctantly released Feyet’s hand from her own before moving forward towards the village. The door closed behind them and the holographic cloak engaged, projecting hard light that would feel like a mountain until they returned. Slowly, with the certainty of where she was going, Scratches walked through the jungle. Now she didn’t have to move at Feyet’s pace of slow observation or occasional bug snack.

Feyet saw one of the yellow centipedes and resisted the temptation to snack on it. The things were awfully tasty and quite spicy, both of which she wanted to enjoy, but that was a tiny sacrifice as they made their way closer to the village. All the times when Feyet had infiltrated the village before, she had made sure the ground was dry to avoid leaving tracks. Every detail was planned in advance, the hunters’ routes were tracked, every single person known precisely where their locations were. This time, she’d have to wing it. They were already breaking every protocol with Feyet manually allowing the genetic imprinting and mating with Scratches, but it was too late to turn back now. You have to get evidence to prove sapience, even if she is a predatory species. If we can do that, there is hope your commanders or the courts will save you both.

They kept getting closer and closer, right up to the spot where Feyet had dropped her stylus. “Scratches, stop for a moment,” Feyet managed to say quickly before turning off the sound damping again. “Was there a small round stick that was very straight and made of metal here?”

Scratches paused and reached into one of her tailbags, pulling out the strange object that was being asked for. “You mean this?”

Feyet blinked, and now things were coming together. Her scent would be all over that stylus, and it would have been a clue that something wasn’t right. That was how Scratches initially picked up her trail and followed her back. She understood now that her simple mistake of letting the stylus go had gotten her here now. The smallest change of the wind to shift a butterfly’s wings can bring a tornado upon the world.

Scratches approached the gates to her village, though it was less a gate and more just a section of standing sharpened trees held together by rope. The palisade walls, as Feyet knew the term, were very primitive. Simple vine hemp plant rope to hold it up. A trench dug to put the base of the wooden poles in and sharpened points at the top to discourage simply climbing over. They also had angled stakes at 40-60 degrees scattered around, nearly four meters long, planted in order to repel the largest predators or provide some breathing room should one decide to charge the wall.

The tribe’s gatherers were out getting various things that were deemed necessary for today, so the village was sparsely occupied. The hunting pack was likely out looking for either a large plant eating creature or several talwartz to bring back for food today, though she had seen them come back with entire poles dangling with zaenies as well when larger prey wasn’t available. These were mostly carnivores, and considering they would not understand her without Scratches or the translator working for her, they would consider her prey.

She had brought another pair of translator ear pieces to help, but otherwise, if things went bad, it was Scratches as her guardian and her laser pistol, which she reminded herself to get a tighter grip on if it came to that.

Scratches approached the gate. Empty claws would get her jeers, but she had something more important to deal with. One of the gate guards laughed. “Ha! Here come Scratches the Wind, have not but scratch wind and treed all night by poison fangs.”

As the two hunters assigned to stay at the gate today laughed, Feyet recognized them both. Beta-3, Brute of Brutes and Beta-4, Harms Veins, both arrasius larger than Scratches. Both were also recognized as full hunters and likely staying behind today because Brute of Brutes had just gotten their mate, and Harms Veins was expecting eggs to hatch any day so he would need to be present when they hatched.

Scratches’ hackles raised, ready to fight for the repeated insults she had been dealt by Brute as she growled and snarled. Feyet calmly walked up behind her and nervously deactivated her sound damperer again. 

“Scratches, calm. Find an excuse to get past them without a fight. We have something more important to do.” Scratches heard the words and could not stop her face from morphing into the likeness of a dismayed puppy. 

Scratches had been ready to fight for such indignity. Then again, she wouldn’t have returned empty clawed if not for Feyet. She shook her head to relieve herself of the emotions of regret and the pain of failure, because that failure was actually a grand success. “Let me pass. I need to see Herald of Wind.”

Both of them looked confused, and Feyet realized why; Scratches had integrated pronouns and an article into her sentence. Already in less than a day she had picked them up and made them a part of her vocabulary. However, to the two hunters, she just used several words that made no sense. She simply hoped they were smart enough to pick up context clues or assumed that perhaps Scratches was talking in a fancier way.

The two hunters kept looking at each other, confused and then back at Scratches, then each other again. “Why you need see Herald of Winds?” Harms Veins, clearly the more intelligent of the two, asked.

Feyet noted that there were five shamanastic leaders. Herald of Winds was the one who consulted with relationships of friends, foes, partners, mates, and children. He was more or less the most reasonable of them, though he was getting old and would be passing on his knowledge to someone to take his place soon, yet he still had another year to finally decide whom. Herald of Winds wasn’t his original name, but Feyet did not know him before he had that name.

There were also Heralds of Earth, Fire, Water, and Sky. Sky was technically what one might consider a tribal chieftain, responsible for communion with spirits, and also the one creature in this village that might be considered fully psychically awakened. Feyet could not be sure without further close study that she hadn’t been able to do. Earth was responsible for keeping tribal supplies and logistics sorted. Fire was the herald responsible for hunters and defense, since they did not have contact with another tribe due to distance. The Heralds of Fire from three generations ago were why the two species lived together now. Then there was Herald of Water, responsible for healing and children. She was required to be female, the only herald that had a sex requirement.

Scratches considered things for a bit, then knew what she needed to say without telling a lie. “Scratches found something strange. Herald of Wind best to under… know, best to know what to do about strange new not-prey.”

The hunters looked at each other and then burst into laughter. “You come back empty-claw and expect let in? Bad hunter, make up shit-pile!”

Scratches gnashed her teeth, stepping forward with her claws on full display as she dropped into a stance to challenge them both if she needed. “Is not shit-pile! Is not lie! Important! Move, I will speak with Herald then go get prey for tribe without whining, or I will gut you over it!” Scratches snarled at them both.

Brute of Brutes stepped forward with their laughter becoming more menacing as they got close and looked down at Scratches. “You think what?”

A small arrasius gatherer interrupted from the other side of the gateway. Hotel-7, according to Feyet’s computer pad, someone it did not have a tribal name for. . “Herald of Wind say Scratches lie or not, not Brute.”

Brute leaned down to Scratches’ eye level. “Good. when Herald say Scratches liar, Brute break. Make Scratches no hunter ever again.” At this range, they noticed the translator on Scratches’ ear and looked at it with curiosity. When they reached for it, Scratches lept back and knocked Feyet down onto her ass and tailfeathers, even pulling two of them in the impact, which hurt like a hornet sting into her spine.

“No! Is mine! Is why I need to see Herald of Winds!” Scratches snarled as she glared at Brute, who looked both stunned that Scratches had moved so quickly and even more perplexed by what such a piece of jewelry could be.

Hotel-7 and Brute both looked confused at Scratches, shielding the translator on her ear with one hand like her life depended upon it. Feyet would never really admit it, but it might just be the case if they needed more than 2 spares. “Get, go Herald of Wind. Come back when say liar.”

Scratches had felt herself bump into Feyet and sent her sprawling. Feyet was just glad that her cloak would keep both sounds and track marks hidden, at least until she was a few feet away. She had left a very big impression on the ground. She was quickly collecting her pulled feathers with one hand, while rubbing her aching tailbone and butt with the other. When we’re done here, I’m going to make Scratches massage my tailfeathers to get over this.

Feyet quickly caught up to Scratches who was walking a bit slowly towards the winding circle that would lead to the Herald’s Hut. Feyet carefully avoided anyone that walked by, many of whom were walking faster than Scratches. What is she.. Oh! She can’t see me. Feyet just now noticed the irritation of the kill-claw twitching every few seconds. She saw how nervous Scratches was with her eyes rolling around, looking for some sign of the shimmer from the cloak. Her teeth were tensed and her body looked like it was about to snap from the extra torque in her muscles, but with this cloak at full power, there would be no shimmer; so Feyet had to act as promised.

Feyet calmly got as close as she dared to Scratches and disabled the volume mask of her cloak. “Scratches, I am here,” She whispered into the translator against Scratches’ ear. Scratches’ kill-claw stopped twitching and she felt the tension leave her body. Scratches sped up and began to run towards the herald’s yurt. Feyet was desperately trying to keep up, but she was the older one who also lived a docile life. She could only manage to keep up when Scratches had to turn. They went past winding pathways and yurts until they came to the center where the herald’s huts were.

Thankfully it was early in the morning. The hunter pack had just left minutes before they arrived and everyone would be concerned with morning tasks. No one would be here yet. Feyet noted the Herald of Winds was usually busy in the afternoon when the sun was brutally hot and people wanted to be indoors. I just called them people, Feyet thought to herself as she looked for the opportunity to slip past the hide of the door Scratches had entered.

She eventually just decided to say screw it and pushed through the hide, hoping they would attribute it to the wind. Scratches stood there as the uladon herald diverted his eyes towards the door when Feyet came in. “Winds strong today, or odd. Think odd, since Scratches the Wind is here.” Herald of Wind went to sit on a log.

Feyet took in the yurt carefully as Scratches stood at what she could only describe as attention, waiting for the Herald to give her permission to speak or move.

This yurt was large enough to have three rooms. The central one had a small firepit in the center with four large logs that had been cut in half and smoothed around it, then layered with hides to make seating places. Feyet estimated the room to be around eight or nine square meters. Two additional doors led to the east and west, cutting the yurt into equal parts. They were both covered with hides from ceiling to floor to conceal the entryways. Feyet estimated the creatures used for those hides were likely a stag-like creature Feyet had seen, but it was too skittish of even her to get proper data on, almost like it had a sixth sense to avoid being caught she did not understand. One hide was a deep vibrant green, and the other a harsh sandy yellow. 

The floor was lined with flattened logs that had been smoothed with work and effort, then dirt piled upon them in order to make sure no one would get a splinter. Feyet tried to not move and hoped that no one had noticed her irregularly shaped tracks leading in here. Afterall, it would be very easy to see the much smaller and with more her three toes front and one back bird feet instead of the raptor running feat of the tribe with all toes forward.

Herald of Winds was themselves an arrasius-uladon mix. One of the reasons Feyet had found them so interesting was the fact they could interbreed. There was a single chromosome difference between the species in terms of number, but in terms of genes, there were a whole lot more. Winds had several patches of skin not covered with navy blue feathers. His scales were a hot pink. His eyes were mixed, but not in the sense that one eye was one color and the other a different. His eyes were split horizontally, as if a knife sliced them at a 90 degree angle across his head. The top half were an icy blue, while the bottom were a crimson-orange, the line separating them so fine that Feyet couldn’t actually see any fading between the top and bottom halves.

The interesting part was that he had the large jaw with more teeth of the arrasius, as well as their pseudo horns on the top of his head ending in flat circles; as if they were tiny tree trunks. He also possessed the kill claws that Scratches did.  He was a strange hybrid creature, and Feyet wasn’t certain how they were viable but he was not the only instance of this cross-breeding. He wore hides that covered his abdomen, crotch, and upper thighs, in addition to his shoulders, with wrist pieces and ankle pieces to show his station. The hides were all from different animals, likely things he did not kill himself, as she knew that Herald of Winds was a gatherer before a herald.

“Alright Scratches, Herald of Winds humor. Share reason of strange gem on ear. Sit,” Herald of Wind took a primitive rock cup with several leaves inside of it and poured some clear water from a pot into it. “Drink tea, speak tale.”

Scratches gave a bow first, going through the ritual. She took the offered cup and began to suck the liquid down. Feyet noted that she had seen these sorts of confessions before. The tea was an aphrodisiac that would also induce feelings of trust inhibitions, as a way for the shamans to try to get more truth out of these sorts of discussions than would be expected. Feyet groaned, remembering the report she wrote when she tried the drug herself to see its effects first hand. I was horny for three days when I did that.

Scratches calmly took a seat and let out a long, worried sigh as she bowed her head and looked away from Wind. “No no, Scratches, let me see eyes, tell me your tale.” Scratches looked up and met her fellow predator’s eyes. 

Scratches took a breath and began to speak. “Herald of Winds, I need to speak to you because I have mated.”

Herald of Winds looked genuinely shocked by this, dropping the higher than thou act he had been doing since Scratches walked in. Clearly, his peace was disturbed. “Why bring to Wind, why not Herald of Water? You mated, no witness? Winds heard no talk, you not passed hunter trial yet, this is very strange and bad. Who you mate with?”

Scratches took a second, realizing to herself that this must seem crazy to anyone else. Un-tried hunters were not supposed to take a mate. Further, mating before this had always been public. She had broken several rules by going with Feyet yesterday, and now she had to answer for them. “With one called Feyet, a Fjer shimmer-walker.”

Water heard the words but did not seem to process them. Then he started to smile and finally burst into laughter. “No, shimmer-walker? Scratches, you very are Scratch the W—” 

Scratches snapped her jaws at Winds and stood with the aggression and fury of someone about to kill. “No, not lie, not scratching the wind. I serious. She is here, right now, with us.”

Wind seemed to pick up on a couple of things. “Scratches words strange, need more think to think. You say she? Here? Who Feyet?”

Scratches nodded. Wind’s response was to get up and look around the hut. Feyet had to move a couple of times to avoid the scrambling Wind from bumping into her. Then he looked outside, and Feyet could see his eyes from her vantage point next to the door. They slowly narrowed as he looked around, until they focused on something on the ground. Feyet leaned away from the wall to see what he was looking at. She could see a couple of her tracks in the soft earth. It had rained just a few days ago, and the ground was still wet due to the humidity. 

“Winds see,” He spoke, leaning back as Winds put together the movement of the yurt flap, and now the tracks outside that no one had really taken notice of but the tracks did disappear just outside his hut. “Tell shimmer-walker show, then.”

Scratches, who had been watching this elder scramble, felt ill at ease from Wind's initial reaction. Feyet could tell if she decloaked right now, she would be attacked, of that she had no doubt. She slowly made her way over to Scratches as she and Wind stared each other down. She disabled the sound dampener, knowing that Wind would not understand her as anything but bird chirping noises and galactic universal, which would be gibberish to them. “Scratches, tell him I will only show myself if he sits back down and puts this on his ear.” Feyet softly pushed a translator into Scratches’ hand. “Also, a promise not to attack me or call for anyone to help.”

Winds heard the chirping and strange noises from behind Scratches and saw her left hand close, only to move forward and offer him a small white gem like the one on her ear. “She says you need to sit down, put this in ear, and agree to not hurt her or call for others.” The tension in the room could be cut with a knife as Scratches and Wind stared each other down. Finally, Wind reached over and tied the hide on the door in place so it would not move easily, a way of locking the hide down to indicate for others to not come in.

Winds took the translator and put it on his ear, slowly walking back to where he had been sitting. “Okay, if shimmer-walker here, reveal. No harm, no call others.”

Feyet looked at Scratches and whispered, “Do you believe him?”

Scratches took a measure of Winds, despite the altered inhibitions of the tea about her. She slowly lowered her head and returned to her seat. “Yes,” She spoke to what appeared to be no one.

Feyet walked to the other side of the room from the door, pressing her back against the wall. If she needed to go, she could stun Wind or let Scratches hold him off while she blew out the wall behind her. Further, if someone else tried to come in, she could turn the cloak back on before anyone saw her. She let out a long, slow breath, releasing all the air in her lungs, her heart heavy. Her nerves were making her shake all over. She could see her hand trembling as she reached down towards the inside of her labcoat where the cloak was controlled, built into the jacket. She flipped the switch and prayed as the cloak powered down.

Electric arcs crackled around her as Feyet materialized from thin air to stand before them. “Hello, the tool on your ear should make it where you can under… know me.” She realized that she would have to use simpler words, or she and Scratches would spend more time explaining what was being said instead of dealing with their predicament. 

Winds simply stared at her in awe. He took in every detail, every feature. He couldn’t look his two-toned eyes away. His mouth hung open, almost agape as he kept looking at her. Finally, he whispered but one word, “Shimmer-walker.”

Feyet went to speak, but he held up his hand. “How did you mate? Did she approach you, Scratches?”

“No, Scratches hunted, able to track, very hard, but her shimmer fail and I strike. Feyet clothing protect, prevent kill-claw from ripping. We talk, she use medicine, heal me, heal herself. Scratches found her…” Scratches searched for the right word among all the words she had learned, but couldn’t find one. “Feyet, what you call pretty pretty pretty.”

Feyet blushed unconsciously, but her scientific mind kept her from acting like a giddy school-girl. “We call it beautiful.”

Scratches nodded. “She beautiful, acceptable as mate, but, shimmer-walker, not part of tribe.”

Wind took all this in. The tale wasn’t nearly as complex as what actually happened, but it was the gist of it. Scratches’ vocabulary varied between simple and the new more complex words, depending on how nervous she was. Feyet noticed, but she had to speak before Wind had a chance to say something. “I offered, and Scratches said yes. We mated as my people do. My tribe would be very upset i—” Wind threw up his hand to get Feyet to stop and twitched his killing-claw irritatingly.

“Scratches, you are hunter soon. Tell Wind, did Feyet satisfy? Is Feyet acceptable? Why come secret?” Wind clearly did not like Feyet, and further was very clearly not trusting anything she said or did right now. Feyet didn’t really think she could blame him, but it would make keeping Scratches alive and any further breaking of the barriers difficult.

“Yes, Feyet very good. Feyet good girl.” Feyet felt her blush burning again at that comment. She also felt herself getting a little hot under her armor-suit, in the way that had left her smelling like she wanted to mate to Scratches the day before. “Fjer Shimmer-walkers will angry if find out about Feyet choice, or if find we know about shimmer-walkers. Think, they shimmer-walk if they want and have hard stones they wear for hides.”

Scratches paused for a minute as she tried to look for how to bridge her new knowledge of language with what Wind would understand. “Feyet no want to give me up. She feels like child feel for parent, but as mate.” Feyet had to suppress a groan when Scratches explained imprinting to Wind, but she had to admit, without having to explain imprinting, that would likely suffice as an explanation.

“Is this true, Feyet Fjer Shimmer-Walker?” Wind spoke without looking at her.

“Yes, and just Feyet is fine.” Feyet saw the eye snap at her as if to tell her that anything besides yes was too much.

“Scratches go get Herald of Water, bring here. Feyet, shimmer-walk until I tell you to.” Wind motioned his hand as if he had the authority to order her around. Scratches moved without hesitation, taking the yurt flap from its ties and pushing it aside to go get Herald of Water.

“Why Water? I thought they were about children an—”

“You be quiet, Shimmer-walker! Unless Wind speak. Feyet, you are hunter’s mate, why you breathe. Test, and Wind kill!” Wind snarled at her and got within range to strike. Feyet felt herself wanting to reach for her gun, but at this range, she would never draw it in time. Not to mention her head, hands, and feet were still exposed, and no doubt Wind would go for her head. The question was whether she could move fast enough and if her neck armor would stop her neck from snapping if he hit it instead.

Wind exhaled as he loomed over Feyet. “Now, shimmer-walk before Water arrive.”

Feyet decided twice was enough and immediately pressed the cloak, turning invisible once again. Scratches entered first, holding open the tent for Herald of Water, who was talking with another female uladon, her successor.

The Herald of Water leaned on a large branch she used as a cane. She had developed a hunch in her back from her age and strain. The scales were wrinkled, and most of her feather pattern had fallen out. She was on her last days, and it was very clear to everyone this was the case. She was an arrasius. One of her horns was gone, a scar in its place from having once angered someone. She wore long heavy hides that had been sown together in order to conceal most of her body. Though, judging from her arm being nearly as thin as Feyet’s, it was clear most of her strength had passed.

The uladon apprentice held her hand, guiding her into the tent and letting Herald of Water lean on her. “Yes, thank you, Walks Nights, you soon wonderful Herald of Water.” The female uladon blushed at this. Feyet could see she was middle-aged, perhaps around forty years from what she remembered of her notes. She had solid black feathers mixed with stripes that were more swirls around body parts, and very straight for a naturally occurring stripe. 

Walks Nights had neon blue edges to her feathers, just as Feyet did, only slightly less vibrant than hers.

Her feathers had swirls of soft baby blue. Unlike Herald of Water, her eyes were not covered by a hood. Instead, she had a simple thin cap that dangled over her head. Walks Nights had pearl white irises inside spheres of black. “Herald of Wind, this had best be good, Water does not have much left. Any strain will shorten that time,” Walks Nights said with a snarl on her lips.

Scratches entered behind them once they were clear of the door and waited in the doorway as the two heralds sat across from each other. Walks Nights stood as she helped Water sit down. Feyet observed all of this and realized she had never seen two heralds in a hut together. She knew it happened, but she had never managed to get one of her drones in here or be inside herself when that happened.

“Yes, much talk, weighs heavy on me. Water, brace heart. Tell me what you know of shimmer-walkers.” Water looked at Wind with alarm in her eyes, then at Scratches, who was still present.

“Scratches go, we—”

“No, Scratches stay. Shimmer-walker her mate.” Wind wasn’t being subtle at all and had a commanding voice in the room. Water looked at Wind in disbelief while Walks Nights stood upright.

“No, stop joking, not funny.” Walks Nights got ready to take Water away by grabbing Water’s arm, only for Water to push her hand away carefully and gently.

“Wind, true?”

Wind nodded and remained quiet. The two seemed to be exchanging some sort of unseen communication. Feyet turned on her datapad’s sensors and displayed the full spectrum scan before her eyes. There was a psionic flow between Water and Wind. Something was happening with their communication that was much bigger than words were conveying. They stared at each other, until Water recoiled away from Wind in shock and turned her head immediately to where Feyet was standing. She hadn’t moved in order to not offend Wind, at least any more than she already had.

Suddenly, Feyet felt something pressing against the front of her forehead, like an invisible hand was trying to press its way into her. The hand kept trying to push forward as if it could feel her there, but wasn’t able to make a connection. Feyet pushed back with her own mind, having been trained to resist psionic pressure.

“Oh, yes, Feyet here. Unsure where exactly, but mind cut-off. Water no can press or read,” Water intoned as the feeling against Feyet’s forehead receded. “Or, no press without pain.”

Scratches snapped her jaws at Water at the mention of the word pain. “Scratches, no need for that. Water no harm mate.”

How did she know my name? Did Wind tell her? How? Their psionics are that complicated?

“I sorry, I do not want Feyet to suffer.”

Water turned to Scratches. “What are these strange words you use?”

“Feyet teach, Feyet good teacher. She taught Scratches many new words in just one night.” Scratches looked very proud as she puffed up her chest and smiled.

Water let out a laugh and nodded. “Always big mind, but no gift, not yet. Scratches The Wind, name fits. Scratches scratched wind and found mate. Feyet, come, no more shimmer, show us. No harm.” Water was laughing and tickled to bits with herself.

Feyet hesitated. Walks Nights turned to Water looking shocked. “You believe?”

Water put a hand on Walks Nights and patted her softly several times. “Oh, Walks, gift weaker than mine, even weaker than wind. It grow strong yet. Need time, practice. Wind showed Water. Wind show Walks what show Water. Feyet, come out, we talk while others talk.”

Feyet felt apprehensive and skittish. The newcomers had not yet talked to her or promised her safety. She was worried now. Water, she had no doubt she could protect herself against, but Walks Nights was a veteran hunter and now transitioning into her life as a herald. She was a warrior.

Scratches got up and walked over to where she thought Feyet was, leaning in close. Feyet did not want to tell Scratches, but as cute as she was leaning down to her, she was about a full body width off, so even to her, it looked like Scratches was staring at a wall. She removed the sound damper and had to stifle her giggle. “Scratches, I’m over here.”

When she spoke, Walks Nights suddenly sat up, very alert, breaking off the psionic connection with Wind and looking extremely alert for where the voice came from. Scratches turned her head to the left and looked at Feyet with a piercing stare that slowly softened towards her. “Feyet, it is okay, I will protect you. You will be safe, I promise.”

Feyet felt that in her heart, her need to conceal herself from these creatures slowly waning. The years of training for how to be impartial, how to disassociate, how to remove herself from the emotional connection and do what she was supposed to as a scientist were shattered by Scratches’ words. She felt something welling up inside her, a tear in her eye.

Feyet felt that same desperate need she felt last night for connection, for being seen and known, one she had suppressed for nearly fifteen galactic standard months, 28 whole 26.5 hour days fifteen times. She had no contact beyond her own voice and the intent to focus on the species she was studying. Now, she was fighting with herself. She saw her finger shaking, ready to press her cloaking device and press her thumbprint into it to turn the device off completely. The spirals and segmentation of her thumb pad would allow the device to ID her and take the command to decloak.

“Scratches, I’m scared. I don’t… Scratches, do you…”

Scratches reached through the cloak and found the shoulder of Feyet’s armor against her neck. She pressed her hand close but kept her killing claw away.. She felt the armor plate and rubbed a claw against it, feeling the plasteel armor and its firm durability. Scratches felt like even Brute could not hope to penetrate that metal plate. “Is that why you wear armor? Why you are shim… cloaked?”

Feyet nodded and then realized Scratches could not see her. “Yes.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

Everyone else heard their conversation but Feyet’s words were just chirps and caws that made no sense to them. They were calming down as Wind and Walks went back into a psionic sharing between their minds. Finally, Feyet let out a long, low sigh. “Okay.” Feyet pressed the button and revealed herself once again. She wasn’t doing it to protect Scratches like she had before.

Water smiled across her very large snout with lots of her serrated teeth missing. “Oh, there Feyet. Feyet look beautiful to Water old eyes.”

Wind and Walks broke off their trace, staring at each other. Feyet glanced her datapad, which showed the psionic phenomenon stop between them. Walks looked at Feyet, rather taken aback. She turned to get up when Water grabbed her arm and tugged her back down to sit. “No, Walks, we must not tell tribe or anyone.”

“Why? Shimmer-walker intruder! Tr—”

“Shimmer-walker Feyet invited by Scratches. Scratches and Feyet mates, yes?” Water asked of the two creatures in the partial shadows of the yurt. Wind turned back to face Feyet and Scratches.

“Feyet, speak. Tell of self.” It was now Feyet realized that Water lacked a translator. She fumbled with her jacket and approached Water to give the device to her. Walks lashed out at her hand and made Feyet stumble back in surprise. Scratches and Walks stanced up at each other, gnashing their teeth and raking at the air between them in a show of intimidation. “No! Shimmer-walker, no touch herald elder! No!”

“Walks, sit!” Water raised her voice and then let out a cough, the strain on her body making her wheeze. Everyone, including Feyet, turned to her, concerned. Walks pet her back to help with the breathing and congestion. “Now, what Feyet offering?”

Wind pointed at the device on his ear. “Some sort of gem, talks when Feyet talk, make know her.”

Water let out a laugh. “Oh, yes, yes, give give.” Feyet looked at Scratches who was holding her back with her tail while keeping her lips curled in a snarl and her claws raised up, ready to strike. Feyet offered the device again. Water picked it up and put it on her ear.

“Now, Feyet, Speak.” Water motioned with a claw, doing a circle in the air as if to get Feyet to hurry up.

“Hello, Herald of Water, I am sorry for the stress. It is nice to meet you.” Water looked at her, perplexed, then excited.

“My, my my! I never thought I’d see another shimmer-walker! So different from other shimmer-walker.” Feyet’s mind raced with possibilities of who what and where and how. She remembered that the Fjer had only taken this planet when the humans had left the system due to a treaty agreement and swapping of interspecies territory. Had the humans put down scientists here as well?

“That one, they saved me, but killed by injuries. No feathers, no scales.” Feyet now fully understood that the human scientist on this planet had perished for some reason and Water had been there. “Before Herald of Water, met shimmer-walker when injured, shimmer-walker fixed back, healed head. Even after Water slashed and gnashed, still help, kind. Honored to Water. Water agreed to burn them and keep secret.” She turned to Walks Nights and reached up to put her older hand against her face.  Water’s hand held several bruises, and the scales showed signs of an imperfect molt, now that Feyet was patently aware of it.

“Walks Nights, soon witness something very secret, your first secret. Now, Feyet, Scratches, did you mate?”

Scratches nodded and Feyet sighed. “Yes, we did, and I imprinted.” Feyet explained to them what imprinting was and how it worked with her species. They seemed to receive it well, then Water turned back to her as the three sitting around the pot shared a psionic exchange.

“Water see. Feyet love with but one night, simple.” Feyet wanted to correct Water, as it was not simple. She had imprinted upon Scratches purposefully, willfully. She had lowered her defense enough to allow for her mind to take Scratches and push her permanently into her mind. It would not do to call it simple; that was an act of will and a violation of everything she was supposed to stand for.

Feyet felt tears in her eyes well up as she gazed at the ground. She realized that everyone was staring at her.

Scratches sensed the distress and turned her head to look at her mate. She wondered if she should move towards her. She did not, not yet. Water and Wind could sense the conflict inside Feyet. She was not shielding her mind as she had done before, and the cloak wasn’t interfering either. “Feyet, why cry?”

Water cleared her throat. “Her heralds upset she has taken Scratches as mate. Heralds no know, but find out, go bad. Feyet afraid for Scratches. Feyet afraid for self now, too,” Water explained to Scratches, the only one in the room that hadn’t caught on by now.

Scratches moved to kiss Feyet on the forehead, her claw gripping Feyet’s shoulder while her arm was wrapped around her neck. She pulled Feyet in close and pressed against her, bending down and exposing her back to everyone else in the room as she shielded Feyet entirely from everyone else. 

Water laughed and slapped her thigh. She was excited, happy and thrilled for the first time in a long time. “Oh Scratches, Feyet, no. We protect secret. But there rule.”

“What rule?” Scratches snarled, trying to understand.

“In legend of Shimmer-walker, three different but once mate found. Different shimmer-walk, different kind, like my shimmer-walker who saved me, brown skin, big black hair, nice beard. Lovely soft skin, wish not die. They made mate, but tragic. Now you do same, no turn back now. Scratches must mate Feyet where we see, but keep secret.”

Wind snapped his head to Water, shocked and stunned at the thought. “What? Where would they mate?”

Water nodded, “Here, now, prove this imprint. We witness, we keep secret, we keep Feyet safe. That is what Feyet ask, and this is how we ask to prove.”

Walks Nights looked at Water and shook her head. “No, we not approve this.”

Water laughed louder. “Feyet, can you bear child?”

Scratches stopped holding Feyet against her chest like a tight plushie and slowly let her out. Scratches stood behind her, hands on her shoulders. She leaned over to place her head against Feyet’s, softly purring in her ear. “Feyet, it safe, answer. I will not let harm, no matter what you say. You are mine, I am yours.”

Feyet felt those words touch a part of herself, deeper than anything had before. Finally, she took her belief in her code of ethics in mind, speaking to something more instinctual, something that could not be so easily taught away. She looked at Scratches, the imprint in her mind telling her to speak truthfully. “Yes, I can have children.”

Water slapped her leg, laughing. “Good good! Mating approved by Water. What you think, Wind?”

Wind nodded to her. “Yes, way Scratches defend. Why Feyet, feel, Feyet burst with conflict, but her… imprint, will win out. We keep secret.”

Wind turned to Walks Nights. “Your first true test of being a herald. Sometimes, tribe bring things that make no sense. You must make sense, you must decide. Tribe made stronger by Feyet, but at risk. Walks Nights, Herald of Water right, one mind. Wind agree. We see mating, Feyet and Scratches mate. We tell no one. Walks agree, or Walks no want to be herald anymore?”

Walks looked at the two heralds as every eye in the room turned to her and zoomed in to study every detail. Walks Nights looked at Water, then at Wind. She looked at Feyet, then at Scratches, then back to Water. “What you ask? Be clear.”

Water nodded to her. “Water speak, not mind talk, for Feyet to hear. Walks Nights, first duty above all now, protect Feyet.”

Walks looked at Feyet and then at Water, then at Feyet. “You mean Feyet and Scratches secret?”

Water shook her head. “No, protect Feyet. She small, clearly weaker than all in tribe, maybe even Water.” She said the last part to give them all a smile. “When Water was many many moons ago, perhaps weaker. Now Walks, promise protect, no matter what, any way you can.”

Water stared at Walks and waited. Walks finally nodded very slowly and deliberately. “Walks will protect Feyet, no matter what. No one will know of her, save us.”

“Good, we are one-mind. Now, you two must mate before us. No exception, tribe must have witness to mate.” Wind nodded as he spoke and turned to Water who was smiling like a schoolgirl who had just gotten a date night with a sports team captain. She was beaming with pride that she had organized this and motioned for Scratches to start.

“Scratches the Wind, take your mate.”