Chapter 13: A Lesson in Silence

After their encounter beneath the waterfall, they ate a little of the mossgrazer meat beside the fire while they dried off, then continued on their way. Everyone was cheerful, and even Murzka chimed in to join their conversations as they trudged through the dense jungle. There was nothing like a little recreational sex to raise spirits and build bonds. Cal still wasn’t certain whether what was happening between the three of them constituted a relationship or not, but he knew that he liked it. There was an ease to their interactions now that he hadn’t experienced in prior relationships, any jealousy or possessiveness somehow absent, along with any expectations that it would evolve into anything more than it needed to be. It was strange to think that he seemed to get on better with aliens than his own kind.

The sun had dipped below the horizon now, casting the jungle into darkness, Cal having to put on his night vision goggles to see where he was going. They should be stopping to make camp before long, but as they crested a small hill, Kevin paused. The dog crouched low to the ferns as Cal had taught him, letting out a low growl as his ears pricked up, scanning for something that the others could not yet see.

Cal took a knee, raising a fist as he reached for his rifle. Poppy crouched beside him while Murzka shouldered her long XMR, the Araxie’s sensitive ears swiveling as she scanned the jungle for targets.

“What is it?” Poppy hissed, shuffling closer to him. “More backstabbers?”

“I’m not sure,” Cal replied. “He’s picking up something. Kev – guard!”

Kevin retreated a little to put himself closer to Poppy, the Worker reaching up to stroke his flank.

“Murzka,” Cal whispered, gesturing to the forest ahead.

“Behind you,” she replied with a nod.

The pair began to advance, keeping their weapons trained on the trees in front of them, the rolling mist and pervasive darkness making visibility poor. There was a sound like the cry of a bird – one that Cal had never heard before, Murzka stopping in her tracks.

“Wait,” she hissed, listening for a moment. When she heard it again, she let her rifle hang from its sling, cupping her hands around her mouth and answering the strange call with one of her own. A moment later, a dark shape emerged from the mist between the trees ahead, a pair of reflective eyes picking up on Cal’s goggles.

It was an Araxie, a camouflaged cloak similar to Murzka’s draped over their head and shoulders, blending their profile with the foliage that surrounded them. Cal lifted his rifle, raising a hand to show that he wasn’t a threat. Three more of them emerged, one dropping from the branches above to land almost silently, two of them stalking through the trees to his left and right. If he had been a threat, he wouldn’t have stayed one for long...

The first Araxie threw back their hood as Murzka approached, revealing themselves to be male. The newcomer reached out to clasp her shoulder in greeting, and she returned the gesture, seeming to recognize the stranger.

“Gorz,” she began – was that his name? “I am pleased to see you.”

“Murzka,” he replied with a smile. “I should not be surprised to find you on your way home. When they told us that the settlement’s best scout might have become lost or injured, I did not truly believe it. What has delayed you so?”

“I have quite a story to tell,” she sighed.

Cal walked over to join them, stowing his rifle and peering up at the massive alien.

“Briggs,” he declared, extending a hand. The Araxie took it after a moment of confusion, raising an eyebrow when Cal shook it. “I suppose you’re our search party?”

“Indeed,” Gorz replied. “When you missed your return date and failed to call in, the Council requested that we dispatch packs to search for you. We have two more packs scouring other areas of the jungle along your expected route.”

“It’s nice to know that they care,” Cal replied.

“What happened to you?” Gorz added, directing his question at Murzka. The other three Araxie made their way over, one of them keeping well clear of Kevin, who was still guarding Poppy.

“May we show them our trophy?” Murzka asked.

“Sure,” Cal replied. “Poppy!” he added, waving her over. She hefted her pack and waddled through the ferns, Kevin sticking by her side.

“This hound is with you?” Gorz asked, doing nothing to mask his distaste.

“Kevin is a loyal beast,” Murzka replied, bristling a little. “It sustained many injuries fighting to protect our pack.”

“As you say,” Gorz mumbled, giving the dog a wary glance.

Poppy slid off her pack and unfastened the bag that contained the dead backstabber, lowering it to the forest floor as the Araxie crowded around to get a look. Cal had grown used to Murzka’s company, but being surrounded by the aliens made him feel somehow even smaller.

“Just a quick look,” he said as he knelt to unzip it. “We don’t want to expose it to the air for longer than necessary.”

An awful stench made him cover his nose as he opened the refrigerated bag, Poppy’s antennae curling in on themselves as she recoiled. He unzipped it just far enough to reveal the creature’s three-way, serrated beak, the Araxie muttering and whispering in surprise.

“Patriarch’s bow, is this ... a backstabber?” Gorz asked as he turned to Murzka. “Now I see what has waylaid you!”

“You slew a backstabber?” another of them repeated.

“I did not believe they were real,” another added.

“We were ambushed by a group of them deep inside the valley,” Murzka explained as Cal zipped the bag back up. “We have learned that they sometimes hunt in packs when an opportunity presents itself.”

“She slew many of them,” Cal explained as he stood back up and brushed himself off. “See that scar on her side? One of them stuck her – got her good. Show them the claw, Murzka.”

She lifted the pendant that was hanging around her neck, the other Araxie leaning in to get a closer look at the wicked implement.

“This blade pierced my belly deeply enough to reach my gut,” she explained. “Had it not been for our sherpa’s skilled hands, I would have surely succumbed shortly thereafter. She worked to heal me until sunrise that day, and I slept for several more. It was my injury and recovery that delayed us.”

“This one healed you?” Gorz asked as he lowered his gaze to Poppy.

“I just did what any Worker would do,” Poppy replied, seeming flustered by the attention.

“She saved my life,” Murzka continued. “Briggs fought valiantly and slew half of their number. His hound tore out a backstabber’s throat to defend our sherpa. We left a clearing filled with their dead and took this one as proof of our deeds.”

“More as a scientific specimen, but you do you,” Cal muttered.

“Then you have good reason to be late!” Gorz said, a deep laugh resonating in his barrel chest. “Orzi, Bolza – send word to the other packs that Murzka and her party have been found. They are to return home immediately. Yarta – make haste back to the village, and be light of foot. We should reassure the Council as soon as possible. I will remain with Murzka’s party.”

The three Araxie bowed their heads, then as quickly as they had appeared from the jungle, they slunk away into its mists. Gorz must be their Alpha.

“What word of my pack?” Murzka asked as Cal helped Poppy secure the backstabber to her rig again.

“The Council would not let them leave their posts to search for you,” Gorz replied. “Needless to say, they were not very happy with the situation. It was only by dispatching multiple search parties that the Council was able to quell their complaining.”

“That sounds like them,” Murzka chuckled.

“Can’t wait to meet them,” Cal added as he slung his rifle over his shoulder. “They sound just as stubborn as you are.”

“I am sure that you will enjoy their company,” Murzka replied, giving him a sly smile that was lost on Gorz.

“Come,” Gorz added, waving to them with a long arm. “I passed a suitable place to make camp some distance ahead. I trust that the aliens still have you resting during the night, Murzka? I will keep watch.”

They set off, following behind Gorz as he led them through the trees. Cal jogged a little to catch up to him, matching his pace.

“I hope you guys give Murzka a day off when she gets back to the settlement,” Cal began, hopping over a root that the Araxie cleared with a single stride. “She’s been pushing herself to the limit. I watched her fight one of those things in hand to hand and somehow come out on top, then we had to argue to actually get her to rest and heal.”

“They must have been ferocious opponents indeed to wound her so,” Gorz replied. “Even now, I see that she is not yet fully recovered. She speaks highly of you,” he added.

“You sound surprised.”

“I mean no disrespect, but our experience of the humans here has painted them as scholars, not warriors. It seems that you are both. I have known Murzka for many winters, and she does not give her praise so readily to those who have not earned it.”

“I’ve found that she can be pretty encouraging once the floodgates are open.”

“Thank you for protecting her,” Gorz added. “The Araxie owe you and your sherpa a debt of gratitude, Briggs. Murzka is our most celebrated scout, and her loss would have been a terrible blow to the settlement. Her knowledge will forge the next generation of hunters.”

“She’s certainly taught me a lot,” Cal replied.

They made camp in a clearing, sharing roasted meat around the fire along with stories of what they had encountered on their expedition. Gorz seemed impressed both with the seasonings and the tales, listening attentively as they spoke of their encounters with the backstabbers and Murzka’s ordeal.

“You should wear your scar proudly!” he declared, pausing to take a bite of a mossgrazer steak. “It is little surprise that the backstabbers have proven to be so elusive if they can make themselves invisible.”

“Almost invisible,” Cal corrected, waving a sandwich at him. “Their chromatophores basically allow them to mimic the colors of whatever happens to be behind them relative to your point of view.”

“Still, to take one with a blade is an impressive accolade indeed.”

“An accolade that would have been my last, were it not for the intervention of my packmates,” Murzka said from her seat across the campfire. “I remember little of what transpired after I was struck, so I will let the others speak on my behalf.”

“Well, after I finished plugging the last of the bastards, we had to carry Murzka somewhere we could try to treat her,” Cal began. “At that point, I honestly had no idea what to do. I’m trained in first aid, but that wouldn’t have helped with an injury so severe. We got her inside my tent, then Poppy went to work,” he said as he reached over to give the Worker a pat on the shoulder. “I was in a panic, but she knew exactly what to do, and her hands were rock steady. She went in there like she was fixing an engine – I’ve never seen anything like it. There was so much blood,” he added with a chuckle.

“A body is just a different kind of machine,” Poppy replied with a shrug. “Some machines are made of metal, some are made of meat, and some use a little of both. All I really did was patch up the broken parts and run a small bypass on the intestine.”

“It seems that both the hive and the UAS sent their best,” Gorz mused as he took another wet bite from his steak. “It appears that you had no need of rescue after all.”

“We make a formidable pack,” Murzka replied with an appreciative glance at her friends.

“Right,” Cal said as he rose from his seat. “I think it’s about time we set up our tent and turned in for the night. It’s been nice talking with you, Gorz, but we’re still on that diurnal sleep schedule.”

“Of course,” he replied, using his prehensile tongue to lick some of the juice from his fingers as he stood up. “I will stay on watch tonight. I am sure that Murzka will sleep well knowing that a fellow hunter is keeping vigil.”

“Thank you, Gorz,” Murzka replied.

He bounded up into the canopy and disappeared, a match for Murzka’s grace and speed, leaving them to set up their large tent. Cal used the paracord to suspend a tarp between two trees as he had done the prior night, laying out his bivvy bag to act as their mattress. He wondered what Gorz would make of their relationship, such as it was. Were interspecies relations normal for Araxie, or might he find it unusual? The way that Poppy talked, it sounded like both Jarilans and humans had mingled with Araxie in the settlement, so perhaps it was commonplace by now.

They lay down beneath the slanting roof of the tent, Poppy cuddling up close to Cal as Murzka lay at his side, Kevin curling up at their feet. Despite her earlier insinuations, she seemed tired now. It had been a long day, the little Worker lying her head on his chest as she drifted off to sleep.

Cal awoke to someone covering his mouth with a furry hand. Alarmed, he jolted awake to find a pair of green eyes peering down at him through the darkness. It was Murzka – crouched over him in the tent like a gargoyle. She slowly slid her hand from his mouth, raising a finger to shush him – a gesture that she had seen him make while hunting. He glanced around, wondering if anything was amiss. Poppy was nearby – fast asleep with her head leaning against Kevin’s flank, his slow breathing making her rise and fall gently.

“What is it?” Cal hissed, keeping his voice low. “Is something wrong?”

“Would you like to learn another lesson?” she asked, the tone of her voice leaving little to interpretation. When he nodded in reply, she took his hand, helping him up. There was a quiet rustle from the bag as she swept him off his feet, easily supporting his weight, Cal peering up at her in surprise. Like a bride being carried over the threshold, she held him to her chest, her soft bust cushioning him through the insubstantial leather sling.

Moving as quietly as a mouse on her soft paw pads, she crept out of the tent, choosing every step carefully so as not to snap a twig or rustle a fern. Cal had no idea where she was taking him, and he dared not ask for fear of making noise, but he trusted her.

Weaving through the jungle like a shadow given form, she reached the roots of a tree, lifting her head as she stared into its branches. From Cal’s perspective, he could see up into the canopy, the trunk stretching some two hundred feet into the air. He wrapped his arms around her neck and held on tightly, his stomach turning as she monkeyed her way up the tree, even the sound of her claws penetrating the wood so quiet that he could barely hear it. The creaking of her leather clothing was louder.

She swung herself up onto a large branch, the pair now surrounded by leaves and hanging vines, Murzka somehow avoiding making too much noise as she pushed through them slowly. When she set Cal down, it took him a moment to get his bearings as he glanced around at his new surroundings. They were shielded from view by the dense foliage, the branch that he was now sitting on wide enough that there wasn’t much chance of falling off, the mossy trunk rising up behind him. They must be high in the canopy, because when he looked over the edge, he couldn’t see the forest floor past the branches below him. It had been engulfed in swirling mist, making him feel like he was staring down at an ocean.

“What are we doing up here?” Cal breathed, confident that her sensitive ears could pick up his voice.

Murzka leaned closer to him, bringing her lips to his ear as she whispered.

“A hunter must learn to be stealthy, even in times of stress,” she purred as she reached down to cup his cheek in her hand. “If we allow ourselves to become distracted, even for a moment, we risk alerting our enemy or startling our quarry. Show me how silent you can be.”

It didn’t take a genius to realize that this was just a pretense to get him alone for a while, but he wasn’t complaining, parting his lips obediently as Murzka leaned in for a kiss. Those fat, fleshy coils filled his mouth, licking his inner cheeks and probing his throat as she locked him in one of her ravenous embraces. Up in the trees, where the only noise came from the rustling of leaves in the wind, the lurid sounds of her wet smacking and the slithering of her tongue filled his ears.

“Gorz is quite the seasoned scout,” she whispered when she broke away, wetting her dark lips to make them shine in the starlight. It was so dark in the absence of any light sources that he could barely see her face, even scant inches away. “Not one of my students, but skilled nonetheless. He does not know that we are here, and I challenge you to keep it that way.”

They were only hiding from Gorz for sport, then, not because he might object. Cal nodded his head silently, a smile curling Murzka’s lips.

“Always so eager to learn, my little bird,” she purred as she nuzzled his cheek. Crouching over him, she dug her claws into the soft wood above his head for purchase, bringing her lips to his neck. A soft kiss gave way to a gentle bite, Cal tensing as he felt her prick his skin. His every instinct should have been screaming for him to pull away with those sharp teeth pressing against his jugular, but it only made his heart race, her warm tongue sliding out to lap at his throat almost apologetically.

The only sound coming from her creaking clothing, she placed a large hand on his bare chest, letting her claws drag against his wet skin on their way down. Her touch was so light, as gentle as a feather, yet her talons were sharp enough to leave little pink trails that rapidly faded.

Cal was wearing only his shorts thanks to the heat, his erection already tenting the fabric, inviting Murzka’s covetous gaze. She placed a solitary finger pad on its tip, teasing him through the cotton, making a slow circle that had him shifting his hips in frustration.

“I have seen you cry out in the throes of pleasure,” she hissed, her reflective eyes shining like jewels as they rose to meet his longing gaze. “Can you stifle your voice, I wonder? Can you endure without revealing us as an Araxie would?”

“Try me,” he whispered, Murzka exposing her teeth in a grin.

Using a hooked claw, she caught his elastic waistband, pulling his shorts down to let his member bounce free. It pulsed in the humid air, Murzka bringing her lips down close to it, letting her warm breath blow across its tip. She was so agile, even in such a precarious position, having no fear of losing her balance as she contorted herself to reach him. Cal felt practically immobile in comparison, scared to move too much lest he fall from the branch.

The coils of her tongue snaked out to caress him, curling around his shaft like a tentacle, her damp flesh glistening as it began to wind and slither its way down. It was far more reflective than her fur in these lighting conditions, sparkling as the stars reflected off it. Using it like an appendage to guide his cock, she brought it to her lips, wasting no time as she slid him past them. They pursed around his head, the satin-smooth, slippery underside of her organ dragging across it. In a single motion, she took him deep into her throat, her muscles clenching around him tightly as if in protest. She let strands of her drool dribble past her lips, her glowing eyes locked to his.

Cal reached down to delve a hand into her silky hair as she swallowed and sucked, every gulp caressing him, the suction gluing her inner cheeks to his shaft. In the silence, he could hear the sordid, wet sounds of her tongue jostling for space as it wrestled with his member.

She began to bob her head, rising and falling in his lap, keeping her pillowy cheeks tight as her tongue swirled around his length and teased his glans. He was ever in awe of how flexible and precise it was, the Araxie able to slide it beneath his foreskin and draw shapes on his flesh without even needing to look at what she was doing. It put the old joke about tying a cherry stem to shame – Murzka could probably have built a ship in a bottle with that thing.

He began to thrust into her mouth, and she allowed it, her gag reflex apparently long gone as he pumped into her throat. She let him glide against the velvet underside of her tongue on his way in and out, lubricated by her gooey saliva, her gullet sealing around him in a dizzying squeeze whenever her lips kissed his base. He had to cover his mouth to stifle a moan as her tongue slid out to stroke his balls, painting his sensitive skin with her drool.

Cal would have been content to finish right there, but she hadn’t brought him all this way solely for his benefit. Murzka kept her lips tightly pursed as she slid them back up his shaft, pausing at his glans to give him another teasing stroke before releasing him, his cock coated with her saliva as it bobbed in the comparatively cool night air.

“You are doing well so far,” she purred, her voice barely a whisper above the breeze. “Let us see how you fare now...”

Murzka rose to her feet, reaching up to hold onto a branch above her to steady herself, the other hand disappearing behind her back. She removed her sling top, letting her breasts bounce free, the way that the light reflected off her wet coat picking them out against her onyx fur. Her nipples were pink and swollen with desire, droplets of sweat and humidity crawling their way down her midriff, sparkling as they followed the channels that her muscles chiseled into her belly. She hung it from a nearby twig like she was drying her clothes on a line, the shorts soon following, Murzka peeling off the tight garment and stepping out of it deftly. She had taken off her belts and pouches before bed, leaving them in the tent far below.