Chapter Fifty-Five: Non-human Communication Skills (Patreon)

“Maybe you should stay here with the cubs until I’ve spoken to Kalanthia,” I say a little hesitantly, casting an apprehensive eye up the slope. I mean, I’m pretty sure this isn’t going to be an issue – Kalanthia’s been OK with Spike after all. However, a raptorcat is a different story from a porcupig and...I’m stalling. I’ve already considered all this; I’m just letting my anxiety paralyse me.

Taking in a deep breath and refusing to look back to Bastet as if seeking approval, I walk up the hill with determination. Slowing as I get closer to the hole in the hill, I peek inside to check that the nunda is awake. I’m not actually sure if I’d rather if she was or wasn’t: on one hand it would delay the confrontation and relieve me in the moment; on the other, it would delay the confrontation and postpone even more anxiety. As it so happens, she’s awake, so I don’t have to answer that question for myself.

“Kalanthia? Is it a good time?” I ask softly – no point in getting her hackles raised from the start by interrupting her at the wrong moment. She lifts her head and fixes me with her golden eyes, her nose wrinkling and lip curling as her mouth opens slightly. I suddenly wonder if I’ve offended her somehow.

Have you been at your trade again, Binder? The question takes me off guard.

“Wait, what?” I ask, feeling completely off-kilter.

You smell of the Larnatis. Have you Bound one? How did she draw that conclusion if, as I’d have to guess, the ‘Larnatis’ are what I’d call raptorcats?

“How…?” The question is the only thing I can even half-voice. Kalanthia emanates a sense of amusement.

You have their scent all over, yet you are not bloodied: that you have found some way to Bind one to yourself without taking injury seems a lot more likely than you having taken one on in battle without being ripped to shreds.

That’s...accurate. I’m momentarily speechless – this whole conversation has left me blind-sided. It’s not like I’d imagined, not even close. I’d thought that I’d have to convince her that Bastet would be safe to have around Lathani, or not to eat Bastet and the cubs as a snack, or both. Not...whatever this is.

“So you’re OK with me bringing a raptorcat...a ‘Larnatis’ back here?” She gives the head-toss which I interpret as a shrug, a wave of indifference rolling over me.

What does it matter to me? The actions of your Bonded are your responsibility; I have faith that your appreciation for your own skin will make you ensure Lathani’s safety, so what other reservations would I have? Put like that…

“And you won’t eat her? Or the cubs I’ve brought with me who I haven’t yet Bound?” I belatedly add on. Kalanthia head-shrugs again.

As long as you claim and control them, I shall not consider them food unless you give them to me explicitly. Which...no. Just no. I might bring corpses back for Kalanthia sometime, but bringing back live creatures just to feed to my nunda landlord...no way. I don’t think my conscience could deal with that.

Still, it seems like I’ve got what I wanted, without even having to try. Still feeling a bit off-balance from how easy the conversation was when I had built it up so much in my mind, I politely excuse myself and walk down the slope.

I need to improve my non-human communication skills, I reflect as I walk. That’s twice in the last half an hour where I’ve misread the situation. It’s weird to think about, but I’m not going to have any actual humans to talk to in the next year so I’d better get used to not interpreting things in a human way. Maybe that Animal Empathy Skill will help me there.

Suddenly I realise where I’ve heard of Kalanthia’s strange facial gesture before. I can’t remember what it’s called exactly, but when a cat partly opens its mouth and looks like it’s grimacing, it’s enhancing its capacity to smell something. In that context, her behaviour makes much more sense.

Reaching the base of the hill, I approach Bastet who raises her head and sends a feeling of slightly apprehensive curiosity down the Bond.

“She’s fine with you and the cubs coming to stay,” I tell her. “Just make sure you don’t threaten her cub in any sort of way, OK? And please keep the cubs away too. Kalanthia’s very protective.”

A strange mixture of feelings roll over the Bond. A mixture of surprise, concern, and what I can only describe as a sensation that I would express with an eyeroll. Exasperation, perhaps? I try to parse through the combination as I pick up the cubs to tuck them back into my chest sling. These, incidentally, are significantly more docile with me now than they were a few hours ago. I don’t know if it’s because Bastet’s been communicating with them somehow or because they’ve been sleeping against me, surrounded in my scent. Whatever the reason, the more comfortable they are with me, the better. Once they’re settled, we set off back up the hill.

After a few minutes, I think I’ve managed to figure out what Bastet was trying to communicate. Surprise that Kalanthia has a cub of her own, concern that her defensiveness over the cub might cause problems, and the eyeroll feeling was because of course Kalanthia would be defensive if she has her own cub.

I check these conclusions with Bastet and just get a derisive tail flick and a look that from a female human would probably mean she thought I was being a bit slow. I think I’m correct in saying that the look means the exact same thing from a raptorcat. The derision that flicks briefly through the Bond certainly supports my conclusion.

Kalanthia is standing outside the cave. As I start walking over towards her, Bastet runs in front of me and stops, making me halt abruptly. The raptorcat lays her ears back against her head and hisses, crouching low to the ground. The much bigger nunda strolls over and slumps to a half-lying position just in front. She lifts a paw and starts grooming it casually, making it clear just how unthreatened she feels by the defensive raptorcat between us.

For a moment I’m flattered that Bastet’s already trying to defend me, though thinking that the raptorcat should know better since I’d just gone to speak with the nunda on my own. Then reality reasserts itself, and I realise that she’s not defending me; she’s defending the cubs. About to reassure Bastet, and hopefully prevent her from attacking Kalanthia completely unnecessarily – not to mention causing a major incident with a being that’s far more powerful than either of us – I’m interrupted by Kalanthia.

Peace, small one, she says. I’m almost offended – I know I’m a lot smaller than she is, but does she really need to highlight that? A moment later, I once more realise I’ve got the wrong end of the stick: she’s talking to Bastet but she must be sending the mental message to both of us. How that’s possible, I don’t really know, but then I don’t understand how her telepathy works to begin with. Alternatively, I’m receiving the mental message through my Bond with Bastet, though if the message has to be translated through the mental perceptions of two different species, I would be worried about its accuracy. Like Chinese Whispers, but way worse.

Kalanthia keeps speaking. I have an agreement with your Binder and as long as that stays intact, I shall not hurt him or his. He has claimed you and your cubs as his, so you have nothing to fear, for now. Then she yawns, showing her great fangs, her canines almost as long as my forearm. However, bear in mind that I am a mother.

She needs say nothing more: the sheer protectiveness and retributive vengefulness that she impresses into such a simple sentence is deeply impressive – in both senses of the word. Bastet actually cowers, her body language changing from defensive into submissive. Somehow I don’t think I’ll have any problems with either her or the cubs harassing Lathani…

“Sure, we’ll keep that in mind,” I tell Kalanthia neutrally. “Come on, Bastet, let’s get you and the cubs settled.” The raptorcat, once so threatening for me, scuttles after me, her plumed tail tucked between her legs like a scared dog.

The cubs obviously weren’t included in the mental communication as they’re not at all worried, instead wriggling around the sling violently enough to almost fall out a couple of times. I figure they’ve probably had enough of sitting around and want to go and explore a bit. They will be able to shortly, but we need to figure out where everyone is sleeping first.

“I guess you’d prefer to sleep inside?” I half-question Bastet. She sends me a complicated emotional combination that seems to indicate a preference for sleeping undercover, but not wanting to risk angering Kalanthia. “No, I doubt that would be an issue,” I comment absent-mindedly, considering whether I want them to share my space – and whether I really have a choice.

After all, I’m the one who decided to Bind Bastet, in doing so taking on responsibility for her and the cubs. For sure the cubs would be better off inside, and I can’t really expect Bastet to be alright with being separated from them, especially in a new place with a significant threat right next door. I’m going to have to share a bedroom with four raptorcats, aren’t I, I sigh to myself.

“Come on,” I tell her with resignation, setting a path for the cave. I feel Kalanthia’s attention on me, though when I look back she’s studiously washing herself. “Our space is over here,” I tell my companion, indicating my alcove with my head, my hands fully occupied with keeping three wriggling raptorcat cubs from falling out and hurting themselves.

As I head for my bedroom, I feel a set of sharp teeth set themselves into my thumb and bite. I let out a surprised yelp of pain – that hurts! Not as much as the wolvezard, I tell myself grimly as I refuse to jerk away and let the adorable, though sharp-toothed, bundles of fur fall. Still, I hasten my steps until I’m fully inside before kneeling down and letting the cubs tumble out of the sling. I’ve leant down close enough to the ground that they’re not in any sort of danger of being hurt when they half-climb, half-fall out.

Grimacing, I inspect the bloody holes one of them left in my thumb, casting a Lay-on-hands to close the pinpricks. Ouch! I turn to see Bastet hesitating in the doorway, then throw myself sideways to push one inquisitive cub away from the fire. It’s just burning embers by this point given how long I’ve been absent, but even embers are too hot to risk the cubs near. Checking that the other cubs aren’t currently anywhere near anything potentially dangerous, I turn back to Bastet.

“Come on in – this is my space. The big cave is Kalanthia’s and Lathani’s, but you can stay in here. Just make sure the cubs stay away from this fire,” I tell her, indicating the fireplace. Then I spot one cub precariously close to my balanced pots and dive for it, only just managing to catch one of the drying pieces of pottery from both falling on the cub and probably breaking. “And away from these pots.”

On the other side, a cub has started batting at one of the hanging pieces of drying sinew. This time, I’m not fast enough: the cub catches the end with its claws and drags the piece towards it. Unfortunately, my drying rack isn’t designed to stand up to a raptorcat’s strength, not even a cub’s, and I watch in dismay as the whole lot is pulled over to crash to the ground, sending drying bits of sinew everywhere.

I raise one hand to my forehead and massage my temples. Clearly, I didn’t think this through.