Page 10 of Larz

“You see something in them—something worth protecting.”

It was not an accusation, but an observation—one that pierced deeper than expected.

“Perhaps,” I conceded after a long pause, filled with the whispering leaves around us.

Jalen nodded once before turning to leave me with my thoughts again—thoughts now swirling like leaves caught in an unseen current.

As he disappeared into the night, I pondered his words and found within them an uncomfortable truth: The humans had kindled something within me—a flicker of kinship born from their plight and their resilience in facing it head-on.

I glanced at the glowing flora around me, which served as a reminder of life’s tenacity. I stood and made my way back toward civilization, with heavy steps laden with uncertainty and newfound understanding alike.

The night wrapped around me like a cloak as I made my way toward the human encampment, a shadow among shadows. I carefully made my decision to observe them; I needed to understand these beings that had fallen from the stars.

Nestled in the underbrush, I watched the survivors gathered around a flickering fire. Their hurried movements and their voices fused with strands of tension and fatigue. A woman, her hair reflecting the firelight like strands of polished copper, gestured animatedly as she spoke.

“We need to set up proper shelters,” she insisted, her hands carving shapes in the air. “This planet may be hospitable now, but we don’t know what weather it brings.”

A man with lines of worry etched into his face nodded. “She’s right. We can’t assume anything. We need to be prepared.”

Their words stirred a grudging respect within me. They were thinkers and planners, much like my people when faced with adversity.

Another figure stepped into the light—a young man with eyes that seemed to take in more than he let on. “We should also try to learn more about the flora and fauna here,” he suggested. “There could be resources we haven’t even considered.”

A murmur of agreement rose from the group, and I nodded along from my hidden vantage point. These humans were not merely survivors; they were explorers at heart.

As I observed them further, I noted their camaraderie, how they shared their provisions and tended to one another’s wounds with care that spoke of deep bonds. This was not the behavior of conquerors but of a community holding together against the odds.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the quiet of the night—a child’s voice, trembling yet filled with wonder. “Look at the stars! They’re different here.”

I followed her gaze upward and for a moment shared in her awe as I saw familiar constellations from an alien perspective.

A woman knelt beside the child, her voice gentle like a soothing balm. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they? Just think of all the fresh stories we can tell under these skies.”

The child nodded vigorously, her earlier fear forgotten beneath a blanket of stars and stories yet to be told.

Their capacity for hope struck a chord within me; it was something precious and rare, a commodity even more valuable than the strongest Oumtera steel.

As time passed, their conversation turned to tales of Earth—their lost home—and though their voices quivered with sorrow, there was strength there too; resilience that resonated within me.

“I miss the rain,” one confessed softly, staring into the flames as if they held answers.

Another laughed bitterly. “I miss traffic jams—can you believe that?”

Laughter rippled through the group—a sound that seemed too fragile for this world yet persisted against all odds.

Their shared memories created an invisible tapestry that wove them tightly together even as they sat vulnerable in an alien world.

I shifted slightly in my hiding place when Hailee’s voice pierced the night. “We have to keep looking forward,” she said firmly. “Our past is gone; we build anew here.”

The firelight danced across her features—casting shadows that played upon her determined expression—and I felt an unexpected kinship with her resolve.

A man with skin bronzed by many suns nodded in agreement. “Hailee’s right,” he said resolutely. “We’ve got second chances in our hands; let’s not waste them.”

I couldn’t help but admire their ability to look beyond loss—to see potential where others might only see despair.

I realized then that these humans carried within them not just fear or hope, but also an indomitable spirit—one that refused to be extinguished by hardship or grief.

They were far more complex than I had first assumed and deserved more than mere observation from afar.

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