Steph's Outcast

I feel I have to further emphasize the point. It's my brain, leaf-drunk and probably more than a little skewed from pain and the day's terror, but it's very important that I stress to him just how much woman I am. "I have tits larger than your kid," I say. "Like, triple D cups back on Earth. I think they've shrunk a little here but really not much. I was kinda hoping I'd turn all leggy like Lauren or Raven, but I'm still me." I sigh, watching the knife hack through my pants. "Big boobs and all. So don't take that away from me."

"You are very talkative," Juth points out as he cuts. "Here I thought you were quiet."

"You also thought I was small!" It annoys me that he can't understand me. "Look at these grandiose breasts," I say, cupping them through the leather cross-over I wear. "I mean, I'm not gorgeous like Sam or Flor, and I'm not sexy, but I've got great boobs. Great ones." I look down at them sadly. "Great boobs that no one will see because I'm not resonating and no other girl is even a smidge gay."

He watches my hands as I grope my chest, pausing over my knees as he cuts. "Do your teats hurt?"

"Teats. Oh god. That's so unsexy. Why does it turn me on? Why is your dick still staring at me?" I swear, the head of it looks like a great big, judgy eye.

"Is the pain in just your leg?" he asks, touching my chin to get my attention. When I nod, he grunts and goes back to cutting. "This is the part that is going to hurt. Be mindful."

What do I have to be mindful of? He's the one that's cu—

Hot fire blasts through my brain. I whimper, clutching at my breasts hard. "Oh fuuuuuck."

"I know," he says, his voice sympathetic. "It will be over soon." And he cuts more, and with every brush of the leather against my skin, it feels like fresh agony. I'm barely aware that I'm crying, sobbing aloud until Juth reaches out and touches my cheek again. "It is done. Your pants are gone. But…you should not look, Steff."

I keep my eyes closed, because what he says makes perfect sense. "S'bad?"

"Pak, hold her hand," he tells his son. "Steff, the bone is in the wrong place in your ankle. I can tell just from looking at it that it will not heal proper unless we set it. Are you ready?"

I shake my head even as Pak's small hand grips mine. "No. No. Not ready—"

Something crunches in my leg. It's a horrific feeling, and I suck in so hard I choke on my own saliva. Colors sheet behind my eyelids, and I wonder if I'm going to pass out. I never pass out. Never, never. The pain seems unending, and I'm whimpering and crying and hurting so bad I just want to scream with all of it. I'm like those creatures outside, bellowing and rolling in the sand with pain.

"She's still clutching her teats, Papa," Pak says in warning.

"It's because they're great teats!" I bellow. "Jesus."

Juth chuckles. "Steff is just lost in the medicine, my son. Remember old Ezz? He would shout when he ate the pain leaves, too."

"All right." Pak doesn't sound convinced, though. "Did you fix her foot?"

That makes me open my eyes. Immediately I regret it, because his cock and balls are definitely staring at me. I force myself not to make eye contact with them. "Yeah, did you?"

"It is set for now. We will let the khui do the rest once it is wrapped." And he holds up a long strip of my chopped up pants. His gaze meets mine and his expression is apologetic. "This will hurt, Steff."

Oh fuck.

13

JUTH

When the twin suns go down, the cave becomes cold. After I wrapped her ankle, Steff cried herself to sleep like a kit, and even now is on her back in the cave. Pak is curled up on the floor at her side, sharing warmth, and they both sleep heavily.

For me, there is no sleep. Not when, if I look out onto the beach, I see it alive with the shells of the strange creatures. Not when their bellows fill the night. Not when everything is unsafe and uncertain. I head out to get more water, because I know both Pak and the female will be thirsty when they wake up, and the sands feel as warm as they did back home. They are almost as red as blood and my every step crunches with the shells of the strange red sea-insects. These sands are not warm. They are always cold.

It is such a strange mystery. I wonder what Ezz would think. I wonder what advice he would have to give. I wish he were here. I could use guidance. I try to be a good father to Pak, but I break the rules. I take food from the clans. I speak to the female even though I should not. It seems as if everything I do is wrong. These thoughts churn in my head, filling me with frustration.