Page 16 of Larz

Without hesitation, I surged forward, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her out of death’s path as the tree shattered where she had stood moments before.

We hit the ground hard—my body shielding hers from harm. Our breaths mingled for a heartbeat before I pushed myself up to look down at her face—her cheeks flushed from adrenaline or perhaps something else entirely.

“Thank you,” she whispered with sincerity that resonated within me deeper than any Zorvian chant ever could.

“It is what anyone would do for their kin.” The word slipped out before I could catch it—kin.

Her expression softened, as if seeing me for more than just an alien warrior for the first time. We rose together, silently acknowledging that something had shifted between us—a bridge forming over an abyss we had thought impassable.

The wind howled around us as if angered by our newfound understanding, but we pressed on side by side—one no longer following or leading but simply being together amidst this alien world that was neither hers nor entirely mine anymore.

The reconnaissance had taken its toll on us all. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the ravaged landscape, we found a clearing to rest. My kin busied themselves with setting up a perimeter while I gathered supplies for a fire. The flame took life, crackling with energy that seemed to pulse with the lifeblood of Oumtera itself.

Hailee approached, her arms cradling various containers from her pack. She set them down beside the fire, the flickering light dancing across her features. I watched her movements, a silent dance of human ingenuity, as she assembled a device that produced heat without flame. She caught me observing and flashed a quick smile.

“I thought we could share what we have,” she said, gesturing to her containers and then to our traditional Zorvian provisions.

I nodded and brought forth our rations—dried meats and fruits, alongside hearty bread made from the grain of ylara plants. Wesat opposite each other around the fire as the warmth touching our faces and allowing the chill of night to recede into darkness.

Hailee opened one of her containers, revealing a mixture of colorful vegetables and grains. With careful fingers, she scooped some onto a flat piece of bread and held it out to me. “It’s called a ‘wrap’. You eat it... like this.” She showed by bringing one to her mouth and taking a bite.

I mimicked her actions, folding the bread around the strange but aromatic mixture. The first bite was an explosion of unfamiliar tastes—tangy and savory all at once. My brows must have conveyed my surprise, because Hailee let out a soft laugh.

“It’s good,” I admitted after swallowing the mouthful.

She beamed at that, pleased by my acceptance. I offered her a piece of dried yora meat, watching as she chewed thoughtfully.

“It’s... different,” she said with an awkward grimace that soon turned to amusement.

“Different good or different bad?” I asked.

She chuckled. “Different good,” she assured me.

As we continued to exchange our meals, gestures became our language. A nod here for more, a shake of the head there for enough. We used our hands to describe flavors—sweet like the nectar from blossoms or sharp like the bite of winter air.

Laughter became our common ground as we attempted to pronounce each other’s food names in our respective tongues. Her attempts at Zorvian words twisted her mouth in comical shapes while my human pronunciations sounded harsh and guttural.

At one point, she held up a red fruit from Earth—a ‘strawberry’ she called it—and explained through hand motions how it grew in fields under the sun’s kiss. I showed her how to peel the rind from a dika fruit with just a twist of the hands. She delighted in its juicy sweetness, declaring it one of her new favorites.

As we shared stories without words about our planets’ delicacies, I realized that despite our vast differences, there was an ease growing between us—a bridge built not on words but on shared experiences and laughter under Oumtera’s twin moons.

The night deepened around us; stars glittered like jewels against the velvet sky while the fire dimmed to glowing embers. The others had retreated into their tents for rest, but Hailee and I remained by the dying fire’s warmth. The silence that enveloped us now was not empty but filled with echoes of our shared mirth.

In that quiet moment, I noticed how fatigue had settled over Hailee’s features—the lines around her eyes spoke of endurance beyond what any being should bear. Yet there was strength there too—a resilience that drew me in like gravity pulls moons into orbit.

“You’re strong,” I whispered, as if speaking louder might break whatever spell had fallen over us.

Her eyes lifted to meet mine; they held depths deeper than any part of space I’d ever traversed. “We have to be,” she replied with equal quietness.

I wanted to ask why—why they pushed themselves so hard when they had already lost so much—but the words never made it past my lips. Instead, we simply looked at each other—the warrior from Oumtera and the survivor from Earth—our gazes holding questions neither of us was ready to voice just yet.

It was then that something shifted within me—a sensation as real as if someone had rewired my very essence. This human before me was no longer just an alien or even just a friend; she was someone whose spirit echoed mine in ways I couldn’t comprehend but couldn’t deny either.

My hand moved almost on its own accord—reaching across the space between us—to brush away an ash that had settled on her cheek from the fire’s whispers. Her skin was warm under my touch and my fingertips lingered longer than necessary before retreating to my side.

Her breath caught; so did mine—suspended in time like leaves before they fall to winter’s call.

The surrounding air hummed with unspoken thoughts and emotions too complex for words or gestures. We were warriors from different worlds—bound by honor and now something more delicate yet powerful burgeoning between us.

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