Poisonous Fox

That night, despite my weariness, slumber came poorly. I had given it a valiant effort. And while I would have rather dug out more information regarding my disfavorable circumstances, or the way of the world, when I had tried asking questions, Kissen insisted that I rest.

It was not as though she had to argue it much, for I truly was exhausted. Whatever healing I had received, that on top of my journey, had left my bones weary. My skin felt loose and my legs soft, and not soft in the good way.

That, and the emotional strain of having been stripped–

That and the emotional strain, had left me quite fatigued.

So I tried sleeping. I really did. With my head in Kissen’s lap, with her fingers tickling my scalp, I attempted it. Valiantly.

And I failed.

It grew frustrating.

It was not until Kissen began humming a melodic lullaby that I began to drift off. Somehow, her voice harmonized with the wind through the bars of the cage and I found it easier to ignore the sounds of the camp, easier to ignore everything.

I drifted off and dreamt of tropical jungles.

Perhaps I had other dreams as well, though if so, I did not remember them.

When I awoke, it was near dawn, and the camp was beginning to break. Though that all fell to the wayside as I realized that all three Kaiva were staring at me. I blinked the last of the sleep from my eyes, rubbed the sides of my face with the palms of my hands, and stared back in what I imagined to be an owlish fashion.

“In what language were your dreams?” Kissen finally asked.

“Hm?” I hummed cautiously. Was she able to look into my dreams? I thought not. That would be a bit of a stretch, even for magic. Though I still knew next to nothing on how magic worked in the first place, so it might not be outside the realm of possibility.

“These ones heard your mumbles from your sleep,” Kissen clarified.

It was still somewhat difficult for me to parse the Kaivan language, and it was not getting easier except through exposure. I wondered where my natural language comprehension had gone. Normally, only exposure had been required to ‘magically’ understand a language. Granted, it usually came with a migraine. But still, I should have had an easier time understanding and speaking the dialect.

The only difference I could think of to account for the delay was the collar. So many questions.

In a way, I was fortunate I had been exposed to Kaivan earlier, in the Red Queen’s facility. Though the dialect spoken by that feline humanoid differed slightly from the one spoken by the three I shared a cage with.

“What did these mumbles sound like?” I asked. As I now knew several languages, I could not be certain which they referred to, though I had my suspicions.

“It was too different for these ones to remember,” Kissen explained. “But it was not a language recognized, and these ones have traveled far.”

The only other two languages, besides Kaivan and the ones the humans spoke, was Hundeor, and English. Since I would have no reason to dream in Hundeor, it must have been English. Of course, admitting that would be dangerous.

So instead, I fell back on deceit. “This one cannot say.” I answered in Kaivan, butchering their language a bit more than necessary, to help draw attention away from the partial lie.

Unfortunately, the diversion failed.

“As is unsure?” Larissen pressed.

My ears laid flat in frustration. Why would they press? Surely people talked in their sleep, and surely it was largely babble. Had I said something particularly revealing?

While I wondered how to avoid answering, Kissen must have detected my frustration, for she answered for my sake.

“Your questions bother the young one, brother.” Kissen glared at him. “Surely her tribulations are heavy enough without our added weight.”

Larissen scoffed, sounding anything but convinced. However, he let the matter drop.

I could not let Kissen’s favor go unappreciated. Good behavior must be encouraged, after all.

“Thank you,” I told her, and I meant it. Answering questions around my origin were the last thing I had on my mind.

“But I–this one–have questions,” I said. The human language slipped in while I tried keeping in Kaivan. But the structure of their language just felt strange.

“Then ask,” Kissen murmured.

I took some time to figure out the best way to ask these questions of mine. For questions could reveal much about the person asking, and I would avoid revealing too much. If anything, I would avoid revealing anything at all. I decided to begin somewhere obvious, where I would not expose anything that eyes could not already determine.

“What am–is this one?” I asked, sweeping over my body with a hand to ensure they got the point. “I have not encountered any like me,” I broke my attempt at Kaivan.

“Nor my brothers,” Kissen said. “That is a question that will likely be asked by others as well.”

“Not Kaivan–” the sick one said in a scratchy and weak voice “-but maybe further south? A hidden tribe?”

“Could it be that the priests and emperors would allow such exotic beauty to go unclaimed?” Larissen said.

The fact he called me beautiful was jarring for many reasons, and left me feeling incredibly uncomfortable and ill at ease. I shifted marginally to get away from him, though not much space was available to do so. It was the thought that counted.

“No, this one thinks not,” Kissen said. “So where then?”

“Qari,” Larissen spat. “Look at her marks. It had to be the humans.”

Kissen and the sick one murmured in agreement. There was much that I was missing. And this provided the perfect in-road to the next topic, and perhaps one of the greatest ones.

“Why? What are these marks?” I asked. Because while I could infer much regarding the markings, there was still plenty I lacked. Such as how they worked, why they changed, how that change was affected by my actions, by my surroundings, and what limitations they might have. Such as if they served as a tracker for a malign entity.

“Stolen arts,” Kissen said, almost in a growl.

“Abominations,” Larissen spat at the same time.

The sick brother meant to say something as well, likely to that same effect, but he broke out into a fit of coughing instead. Kissen leaned over and patted him on the back.

“From where did the humans steal them?” I asked, trying to fit in as much as possible to build rapport and empathy.

“From the Great Spirits of the earth,” Kissen said.

“And what do these marks do?” I asked, avoiding the entire topic of religious origins. While the origins likely affected culture, I had no interest in sparking a debate at the time. Besides, I had more practical interests.

“Depends on the spirit robbed, on the defiler’s skill, on the stone crushed and inked… almost always the marks enhance. This is how the humans have prevailed thus far against the Kaiva.”

There was both pride and a hint of admiration in Kissen’s voice, although not nearly enough to overcome the loathing that was plain. And that loathing I could understand. I tapped my collar.

“What of this?”

She hissed but hesitated from immediately answering.

“A seal–” the sick one said “-on your marks. Weakens–” he coughed.

“Rest brother!” Kissen scolded.

“Sister is right,” Larissen added, concern evident.

Both siblings must have cared deeply for the sick one. It was nice to see that family dynamic. I had a sister too.

“If that is so,” I said after a pause, “then why do you three also have collars?” Again, I used a pidgin speak. Kaivan was anything but easy to wrap my head around.

“These are not the same,” Kissen said. “These are plain steel. Yours is artificed. Ours restrain through force, despite our strength. Yours restrains through force and soul.”

Again, there was that hint of religion or spirituality peeking its way in. And again, I wanted nothing to do with the uncomfortable topic.

The only thing left to learn, as they had little to truly offer in the way of explaining my marks or collar, was in the specifics of our confinement. Or of the broader world. There was fortunately an easy way to broach the subject. Especially as a proper introduction was never done. By that point in time, light had begun to leak through the overcast skies, and I could see all three Kaivan much better. I decided to examine them a bit more closely. The action would fit in well for my cover of having never encountered true Kaivans before.

All four of us were in the nude, with the exception of the collars and our fur. And there were many similarities. Enough so, that I almost considered myself one of them, at least in body. Our feet were clawed, with four toes to the front, and a fifth hooking near where our ankles were. And our ankles had a strange almost second joint to them. It made running as a quadruped possible, as well as standing and walking like a proper humanoid. Our legs were shorter as well, or perhaps it was the rest of us that was taller. Each of us had a tail. Though theirs were straight and of consistent width, mine flared widely at the top third. The difference could be explained by fur alone. Unfortunately, as we were all in the nude, genitalia were exposed. This was the worst of it. I did not know how the brothers handled the shame. At least Kissen and I had fur to cover most of it. I could pretend I wore a bodysuit of fur. It helped ease the discomfort.

So far as sexual dimorphism went, the genitalia were the only obvious tells. In humans, one of the greatest tells was typically the breasts. This had been one of the worst things about my new body. One of the worst, glaring differences. And it appeared it was a trait I shared with the Kaivan as well.

Six nipples.

Ugh. Even the thought of it disgusted me. I hated it. Loathed it. But there it was. Six of them. No breasts. I felt the urge to vomit.

In regards to the differences, they seemed mostly superficial: their claws were sharper than mine; their muzzle shorter and flatter than mine; their ears smaller and more triangular than mine; their whiskers more pronounced than mine.

The most obvious difference was also the most superficial of all: our fur color. Theirs was a tawny gold and brown and mine a deep lilac.

Kissen at some point became aware that I was staring, and she chuffed in amusement.

“Drink your fill, Kitten?” she asked.

“Sorry,” I said, feigning embarrassment. “It’s just… I–this one–has never really had a chance to see other Kaivan before.”

I lumped myself into the same group as theirs, at least while I was with them. Larissen tensed up slightly though, while Kissen chuffed. “Perhaps, perhaps. That remains to be discovered, but discovered it will be. In the meantime, what further questions are on your mind?”

“You! Cat!” a boisterous voice interrupted us. “You were to let her rest! I didn’t give you permission to talk with her!”

Sir Kate. What a ridiculous girl, I thought.