A Second Chance

Glory and Honor

Tomak, who was sitting with his back against the human headboard, snarled in anger.

He didn't understand why he purred for the vydral. He blamed it on his automatic response to when a female was upset. All yautja males understood that an upset female was potentially dangerous. Being a head taller than them, a female of his species could be in comparison to a wall of explosive strength if provoked. Thus, purring would wisely be a male's first response to pacify them. These situations rarely occurred, but when they did, delicate action was taken to prevent it from escalating further. So, although the vydral was in no way like a yautja female, her scent and distressed actions triggered his instincts to comfort.

"Vydral," he chuffed. For having the ability, she didn't act like one. If she truly were a vydral, she would have recognized what he was, and she most certainly wouldn't have hesitated to end him. And had he known what she could do, he would not have toyed with her as he had. She acted more like a human: scared, pathetic, and her tendrils were far too dark. He didn't know what she was, and he didn't care.

His anger returned as he recalled her touching him, which was done without invitation. He had not given her consent to be so bold as to touch him or enter in his space. She dared to threaten him also! If it wasn't for his present state, he would have leapt from the bed and snapped her neck!

"H'ko," he growled, closing his eyes, his dreadlocks swaying as he shook his head. He wouldn't have killed her. He couldn't now. She was untouchable. As much as he hated to admit it, the human, he decided, gave him the chance to hunt another day. It wasn't his time, not yet. He would have preferred a much grander end, one that his people would remember and whisper about amongst the other greats.

That was if he could repair his ship.

That was the complication. Even if he did heal from his wounds, it would put him back to square one. The odds were against him, for that he was certain. Had he killed the wench, finding parts wouldn't be risky, and in addition, he would have happily added another skull to his wall.

That wasn't the case however, instead he failed in both endeavors and now there was a human that had the power to alert their arbitrators of his presence. They'd kill and dissect him like he was nothing but a piece of meat or worse, they'd keep him alive, locked in a cage to be stared at like he was a valuable trinket to be shown off. "Disgraceful," he hissed in his language. Never had Tomak failed a hunt as he did yesterday, and he would pay dearly for his mistake.

Huffing in the air around him, he could no longer scent the human. She was long gone. If he was going to escape, now would be the time to do it. He may not get a second chance.

Taking a deep breath, he moved his good leg to hang over the pallet. Now was the test of strength. He slowly went to shift the leg that had been impaled, praying with every fiber of his being that he could walk, and immediately a pang of excruciating pain shot through his leg. The intensity of it was so great he slumped down. Rage filled his senses, and in an act of anger, he snarled, swiping his arm outward, sending one of the nearby lamps flying across the room. The sound of the smashing glass did nothing to release his pent-up fury, so he lifted his head and spread his mandibles wide as he roared, the volume of it shaking the very walls.

When his rage slowly subsided, he felt the weight of exhaustion replace it. His limbs for some unknown reason were getting heavier, as if he had to put more effort and strength into mere movements. While in this subdued state, Tomak closed his eyes, hoping to build up on his inner strength. As his mind drifted, he was brought back to an intense memory that required more of himself than he had originally thought.

He remembered the hot wind, blowing against him as he searched for his prospective prey. The red desert environment was harsh on his scales, as the sand and sun would make him itchy and uncomfortable. Growing up on his home planet, Yaut, he was accustomed to heat and high humidity, but he much preferred the jungle.