Gesshru

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Chapter 9

My name is Freya Savitri, and Doth is not a hero of mice, no matter how much she wishes she could be.

“Grrnn, why can’t …” Doth muttered while moving toward the tree-line. Already those flying cat-otters were a distant speck. 

“Because you are an idiot and I hate you.” Was my response in the Gesshru language, if I could have rolled my eyes then I would have. 

“What is wrong with these legs, I know you can go faster!” She was trying. Oh boy was she trying, the jerky movements all too reminiscent of a toddler on stilts. My legs weren’t as much walking forward as they were waddling, flinging the foot outward and backward at the same time. Knees locked strait, arms held stock against my waist because that dumb pilot still couldn’t figure out what to do with them. 

“Step out of that cockpit and give me control back, I’ll show you  how fast I can move.” The ottercats were keeping a gaze on me, occasionally turning around to stare at the ungainly creature tripping over itself. I found myself wondering why they didn’t just blast me with lightning at any point since the compound, but knowing similar earth creatures it was likely they had a limited supply of energy for those blasts. Glowing balls of plasma aren’t exactly energy efficient hunting methods for a biological creature. 

“N-nooooo! They’re getting away. They’ve gotten away … wonderful, we got so close. I have got to figure out how you moved like that, there’s no way I can manage that kind of speed and reaction time if I’m scrambling to hit buttons in the right order.” Of course the cats had escaped. They were faster than me at a full sprint, yet she expected me to chase them down while exhausted, bleeding, and covered in melted plastic? Besides, if I did catch up they might well manage to kill me if pressed into combat. Especially if you get enough of them. 

“Oh no, a giant monster is eating souls. I guess next you’ll want to capture one of them to feed prisoners too, right?” Oh how I wish she could feel the bitter sting on my tongue. She was so much better than most other pilots, but better does not always equate to good. And this was a very illustrative example of such comparison. 

To be honest, I reflected almost instantly, a lot of his venom was misplaced anger at the fact I’d lost my chance to escape because of her. She was a dead woman anyway, why should I give up my one viable chance at escape in years so she could live for another few weeks? I’ve known her for less than a day and already she’s helped ruin my life. But then I might just be coming down from an adrenaline high, the pain is setting in, and on top of being battered and thirsty and miserable and mind controlled I couldn’t even scratch my nose. 

 What little I know about her objectively is that she’s a typical Gashn, fully believes their silly little religion about the planet’s core housing their souls, and she’s completely taken by Gashn propaganda. Easterners are just scum to be done away with or tools to put to work, true Gashn are the dominant race of the world. She doesn’t question that very much but at the same time isn’t malicious about it. She loves Max units, adores us, has lived her whole life wanting to be a pilot, and her being willing to take risks seems more from wishful thinking and dreams of affectionate attention rather than a keen mind probing to reveal the truth. 

“Let’s ...” She seemed to choke on the words. “I’m turning back now. I’m so sorry Maneater. You’ve done enough, I should have … should have known.” 

A scientist she was not, this was clear. But with that same mechanical awkwardness we turned away from that treeline and the last glimpse of fleeing predators, back toward a ruined compound. 

There was that soldier on the ground still, left behind in our mad chase. We stomped close. Too close …

Far too close.

I could hear his screams, hear the desperate cry for help. He was telling us he was down there, on the ground. 

Doth stomped past, my legs popping to the ground mere inches away from where the panicked sap stood. I knew he was still alive, not because I was allowed to turn and look back, or even the lack of a telltale crunch beneath my boots, but because I could hear him shouting up for me. 

Gesshru were slow after all, much slower than humans. Less than a minute’s walk for me was an exhausting trek for them.

“I can just pick the man up you know.” I grumped not long after it was already too late to expect she’d turn around. What I felt was her paws rubbing against my scalp, that strange tickle which she probably assumed would feel good. 

“There there Maneater, everything will be alright. We’ll get you water as soon as we’re back home, and then you can rest after your hard fight. Just … relax and let me do all the work.” 

“I’ve been telling myself that for years now, hasn’t worked out yet.” I growled back. Another stomp. Such clumsy walking one had to expect of a pilot, we weren’t long for the armory.

“Make sure to keep an eye out for Kepa, he’s supposed to be on the ground here somewhere.” She said this as if she couldn’t hear him shouting for her. Ohgodno she actually couldn’t hear him. 

“Take a moment without stomping and you might actually hear something besides my footsteps. Oh, I’m sorry. Your footsteps.” Why oh why did she have to respond to scathing anger with head rubs and gentle petting? Rubbing behind my ears wasn’t going to make up for losing control again and she should know this. 

“Good girl, thaaats a good girl.” Doth cooed all too sweetly. “Now how abou-Oh. This is Doth Renfi, reporting for after battle action. Sir!”

A flick of the switch. Her voice behind my head becomes a projection from my throat, that tiny speaker attached to my now shattered helmet washing over the remains of a battlefield. 

Tents were knocked over, there were smatters of blood that most likely came from the fluttercats exclusively. The rooftop to an ‘armored bunker’ was torn from its bindings, shattered and scorched by lightning, then just tossed aside as so much scrap rubble. An imprint of my body still marked their landfill, and I was pleased to see none of the footprints my boots had left behind contained any dead Gesshru in them. Their cargo, all of their supplies, were knocked into haphazard piles with crunched edges and paw or teeth marks. Most of the weapons themselves deliberately snapped, the band throwers and spears especially. 

I could see a handful of charred corpses. A literal handful in this case, maybe three. I wasn’t even sure if the third one was dead yet, knowing Gesshru biology they might manage to live through it. 

Then I noticed the scraps of plastic, some as intact shards and others as now cooled globs of melted material. Scattered over the walls or dripping into places on the compound, it showed how sorry a state my armor was after that beating. None of my blood seemed to leak out. Electrical burns don’t bleed much, and most of what I did leak was directly into the armor padding.

Oh joy. 

Then my eyes twitched. Oh I still wasn’t allowed to turn them, but I spotted movement to the left. Orange. Wings. Wait, swarmed? There were Gashn soldiers all around it while carrying ropes. Some were carrying rubber bands without a thrower to launch them from. 

“Doth, that was incredible!” I heard his first shout. Doth didn’t turn my head to gaze at him until the second, when the man as clambering atop a stacked supply crate and shouting as loud as he could. “Rusted core, someone give me a speakerphone. Ah, thank you. DOTH! That was incredible!” 

“No twitch, I was only performing my duty as expected sir. May I please recount a damage report, so that I may relay these events to our superiors back at Ontal.” She didn’t phrase it as a question. When piloting a human and covered in this many wounds, was there any doubt a mid level commander would refuse? 

“Very minimal considering the force we were up against and the sheer gain we’ve received in return. It’s astounding!” I didn’t like the way he said that. “In total we’ve only lost about half our force, embarrassingly humiliated losses if we were facing the easterner scum or some silly tribals, but a miracle compared to typical reports from other SoulEater attacks. Sadly less than half of these supplies actually survived, sheer dumb luck on the beasts part had them destroying our weapons above all else.”

Dumb luck.

Right … 

“So on top of a requisition for more soldiers, this supply run will need to be carried out again. Within the week. A pity.” Doth spoke with such an authoritarian air it left me wondering about what exactly enticed her to be a Max pilot. She was clearly enjoying this opportunity to look down on people. 

“Y-yes, quite. Actually If you will offer an hour to take in damages and review our surroundings, I will also send back a requisition to move to a new location. The ruins of Scando may be more defensible considering the coral spires are harder to damage than mere lumber, and overhead protection is vital when fighting against beasts of the sky who rain starlight down from above.” 

For a moment I was actually interested in this man’s words. Raining starlight? I’ve never heard that one. I know Gashn as a culture particularly dislikes the stars, but I thought lightning balls were called ‘godbolts’ … maybe a region specific slang word. Or something specific to these fluttercat things. 

“Denied, I do not have an hour. I shall deliver your requests upon my return. What else?” 

“My commemoration of your exemplary skill in combat against the mightiest of foes.” As much as I wanted to scoff at the idea of calling a cat-otter mighty, they were dangerous if pressed. 

“Ah, yes. I sha- …” 

“It is because of you and your skill alone miss Doth, that we’ve actually managed to capture a soul eater for the first time in generations!” 

“What?” 

Both me and Doth said this at the same time. My head turned. At my voice, in English, the entire compound was stunned. A flash of Orange, but Doth looked past only to double back again. There in the dirt and grime just outside the mud brick walls was a fluttercat. Tied in hair-string ropes, with a rubber band around it’s muzzle, around its wings, and tying it’s front paws together. As me and Doth watched more soldiers were working in unison to loop that band around it’s legs and tail, struggling to fit all three inside a single band and then breaking into an argument of how best to do it. 

“Never before in my entire military career have I ever seen a Max Pilot move that quickly. I can’t even imagine how you managed to jack in while Soul Eaters hounded your every move, but it’s a good thing she was placed panel down. Were you left in open air at the time trying to slip inside you might have been snatched away before managing to turn your Max on.” 

“I … wh …” Doth didn’t seem especially high and mighty at the moment, and her gaze shifted down toward the compound at her feet. Once more the ruined remains of a mud castle that mice were trying to tidy up. 

“Until you jacked in, this hunk of junk fleshpuppet was just sitting there, useless. But the moment you started fight, oh by the core you were amazing! Picking up a roofing panel to use it as a shield? Dancing around like you owned the place without stepping on a single soldier? Batting Soul Eaters out of the sky? That isn’t even getting me started on how accurate you were with a thrown missile or just how insanely fast you could run. Having seen your performance I’d actually recommend we start using Max units to supplement existing ground forces, you made fancy movement and fast paced combat look easy even with us all underfoot.”

Do. Not. Snicker.

Or. Get. Enraged. 

The fact I couldn’t tell which emotion I should even be feeling at the moment was far too telling. 

“That wasn’t me!” Doth balked. My arms locked to my side in a distinct lack of emoting while that projected voice of my pilot cracked in alarm.

“Yes, of course.” The command rolls his eyes. “You were just the piloting force, but your meat-puppet did all the hard work. I know how humble you pilot types can be. Please! Step down though, your max can go back into the trash heap while we celebrate a true hero!” 

“I …” Doth seemed to pause. “I don’t feel like this is a cause for celebration, we need to clean up first.” 

“Very well. We can simply let the lower grunts do the hard work, but if you insist.” The man stepped down onto the floor. I could hear his voice lowering, putting the megaphone down to mutter “Get me a quill and paper, I need to start onto my report.” 

“And I’d very much like to leave. Right now.”

“What?” the commander said aloud, only to get no response. He puts his lips to the megaphone again and repeats the word. “Why would you leave now? I haven’t even gotten started on writing.” 

“While I have no problem remaining to sort out paperwork and logistics, my Max has had a very long day and her armor is all but ruined. Some of these wounds may get infected if not treated properly within a reasonable time-frame, and the closest facilities that can outfit her in new armor and dress her burn marks are back at Ontal.”

“The max is female?” He seemed more surprised than confused. 

“Yes, and very badly hurt. If she falls here before we can get her back to Ontal, I highly doubt even your combined soldiers could carry her across a week’s walk of open desert.” 

“Point taken. You are …” he appeared to choose his words carefully. “You are dismissed, Pilot Doth Renfi.” 

I found this amusing.

Doth stepped away from the center compound, my gaze scanning over the wide damage survey. That fluttercat thingy was already bound tight in as many rubber bands as they could fit, and still the nervous soldiers were trying to apply more. Rubber might hamper some of their electrical abilities. The idea that they might be enough to counter a beast’s strength and size was dubious at best, a bit like an elephant hander hoping his ropes hold out.

The cat monster was small enough that they might be able to drag it, but no one had a place to put it yet. 

Already there was discomfort and second thoughts over my choosing to defend the compound, I’d much rather have the cat beasts as an ally if they are fighting the Gashn empire. More to the point, I did not appreciate the idea of these cat monsters being made prisoner. 

Can they be controlled?

I know their Tech has diminished a bit in some ways since we first contacted them, but does the knowledge of how to create a control module for the fluttercats exist somewhere? And would these people try it to make some variant of an air force? 

“That’s fine Maneater, everything is fine. Listen to me. Listen? Just listen to my voice.” Doth spoke sweet nonsense into the back of my head while forcefully tearing my gaze away.

Another stomp, walking back out the open desert we came from. Rocks and bits of coral all around an open sand basin. It appears that whatever Kepa meant to her, Doth didn’t think of him highly enough to make sure he walked back alive.

“You don’t like people much, do you.” And that’s when I caught on. 

“There, keep talking and the pain will go away soon. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” she forces herself to giggle. 

“You’re an animal person, you get along with things that don’t talk back to you. But have disdain for the people around you.” Doth suddenly reminded me of certain people I used to know back on earth. 

“I have no idea what you did, but you were amazing.” She keeps walking. My legs stiff and sore, everything hurts and the warm blood trickles down to my feet. 

“Always so loving and fascinated by the giant animal things, but the moment it can talk back you’re rude and cold and distant.” Have you ever had sandy water from say, a lake or a beach squishing into your socks? Okay. Try that only replace water with blood. Specifically your blood. 

“True you might have done more damage to the outpost than the Soul Eaters would have, but you saved a lot of soldiers.” Why was that spoken in an ‘I told you so’ tone of voice?

“At first I thought it was just Tasgal, because I mean. Duh. Anyone with a brain would hate him.” Mygodno this was horrible, she wasn’t letting me pull the boots off. Blood leaking from my butt was pouring down into my boots, and everything on the inside of this armor was squishy and absorbent. 

“You did that all without anyone having to tell you to. I mean, I know everyone says you are the hardest max to control, that you resist neural dampening somehow. But I left you on lockdown!” She squealed in girlish delight. This was a happy moment for her somehow. 

“I’m seeing it now though, you’d rather talk with me than with another Gesshru. You emote more when next to me, you share your history with me.” Another stomp. A loud stomp. A wet stomp. The sweat from so much exertion wasn’t merely draped over my skin to soak, but the smelly salt was ground and smeared directly into open wounds. 

Let me say this now. Abrasions on a burn wound are not a pleasant experience. 

Neither was my inability to even tend to them, it wasn’t just the fact Doth was in control but it was also the armor that would get in the way regardless. 

“On lockdown. Did you hear that? I had you completely locked down, and you still somehow managed to get up, fight expertly, and save lives all with amazing skill. When by every right you should have been entirely paralyzed until someone turned you on!” She was way too excited by this.

Also amusingly wrong. But there was no point in telling her that. 

“If you are so willing to look past what everyone else says about humans, why are you so reluctant to see this war for what it really is?” Words on deaf ears. Immediately after I’d asked the question I had to remind myself that I wouldn’t care about the answer. Another three years and everything she knew will have changed all over again, and at best Doth would be a memory jotted down into the history books. More likely is that no one will even remember her name. 

“No wonder Tasgal has such a hard time, you can outright ignore the control panel whenever you have enough motivation.” She acted like this was some grand revelation. All humans could, to an extent, that was the whole point of a neural dampener and those weird injections. Second line of control to weaken the slave’s resolve and disrupt chemical signals. 

“Those Soul Eater things weren’t just dumb animals and you know it. You should know it, if you had even a tiniest bit of awareness or common sense. But no. I’m talking to a toddler who’s barely a year old. Why on earth would I expect you to have a keen grasp on anything.” My words were unfair to the rodent creatures with such short lives, but if no one could understand them who was I hurting? 

“We have to get the word out, tell everyone that a Max is more powerful when you aren’t controlling them.” 

If I thought this plan would work I’d have encouraged Doth to press for this somehow, but even for the sake of power Gashn military leaders don’t like to give up control. Better a weak soldier who follows orders than a skilled soldier who asks too many questions.

I was silent …

The crunch of boots into sand, the squish of blood soaked socks.

I think I stopped bleeding at one point, but it wouldn’t be terribly long before reaching Ontal. Home sweet prison. 

Doth seemed to want for food and water, and I was parched alongside the sheer exhaustion. Aches welling in my knees an arms, a dull pain in my arms and my waist. Still that scrape and rub, grinding soft padding over electrified skin. 

“So how was your day?” I brought up sarcastically. Licking my lips to clear away a bit of dried sand.

At least through the cracked helmet I could feel a bit of wind on my face, and from the gaping holes in my armor there was a gentle breeze coming through. Not a cool breeze or a comfortable, this dry heat was downright terrible, but a gentle one at least. 

“I thought I was going to die.” Doth answers. 

“Would have been better for me if you had. In all honesty.” I answered back with as much truth as I’d hoped she could understand. 

“That’s just the worst way to die, you know? Because it doesn’t just stop there.” Doth shuddered. “It isn’t just death and then a new beginning, see all of your old relatives again and talk with the ancients. Its … its worse than being Starflung. Trapped inside a monster, helpless and watching as it does disgusting monster things. Forever! If you get eaten alive, your soul never reaches the core and that’s it, you never get to have a restful afterlife.” 

I could feel her palm in the back of my hair.

“One would suspect earth rarely expresses similar believes about our version of the afterlife, given how few creatures are large enough to devour us whole.” 

“If it had just bitten down or blasted me or something, at least my soul would be okay. But eaten alive?” her petting gets more frantic. “I was in its mouth Maneater. Hah, yes I know you’ve eaten people before.” 

“Never while they were still alive. I tend to chew.” 

“No one was coming to save me. You were strapped in lockdown, no one else in this area was a trained max pilot. The Soul Eaters are too fast for anything but heavy artillery …” what she called artillery is what I would call throwing rocks. And I’m pretty sure I can throw rocks harder than their siege engines. 

“Then I did come for you. Lucky me.” She wouldn’t catch my scoff. I knew she wouldn’t. 

“My entire time was spent talking to that Kepa guy. Ask his name and tell him mine, holding on tight to keep that beast from swallowing. It was so gentle! It was keeping us alive deliberately, carrying us off to enjoy later or give to a mate as some primitive bonding ritual.” She seemed hysterical now. The petting intensified to the point of annoyance, I couldn’t just force her to stop rubbing my head. 

“Oh poor baby, that must have been so hard on you.” My sarcasm heard by no one. The tone might come through if she was catching on. 

“But then out of nowhere you just appear? I’ve never heard anything like that from a Max unit. Operating on your own, shoving past lockdown, and just … gaah! I’ve never even heard tale of Max units deployed against soul eaters and you took on an entire pack of them!” 

“Just five.” I muttered. “And it’s interesting that even after getting to know this Kapa whatever you still didn’t put much effort into making sure he got back safely.” 

“When we get back you need to have the best  food, the best care. We might even petition to get you down to the nearest lake for a bath.” She kept rubbing, and when she only had that same small spot at my skull it didn’t feel all that comfortable. Might have been nice for her, but the touch of a rat in your hair wasn’t the feel-good, warm fuzzy feelings one might have expected.  

“I mean sure, you wanted me to save him. But that was still my putting in the effort. Hah! And if you want me to take a bath then I am more than willing to accept this generosity. Just so long as I get free reign to clean my own wounds.” Infection wasn’t something I worried too heavily about, if I died then at least this would mean I was finally granted release. But water? All of their equipment was electronic and I highly doubt they put as much effort into shielding the remote control as they did to my collar.

Second or third generation knockoffs, with the Gashn empire getting cheaper and dumber the further away they went from the original scientists who captured us. Hard to make improvements when you don’t let anyone review the work that came before in the name of security. Or in this case, propaganda. 

One good splash. That might be all I needed, a way to splash the controller and then just run off without them closing the doors on me.

“Gosh this is going to make so many waves through the resource management division. Just imagine what it could mean once the Cavni Federation is actually crushed? Then we can turn away from fighting lesser Gesshru and start clearing the jungles. The JUNGLES maneater! That’s going to be huge!” 

“So instead of stepping on children you can go kick puppies instead. Wonderful.” Yes I was fully aware that a puppy could destroy their entire garrison and eat a small village if you let it, but the principle still stands. 

“The only people who live in jungles are the unorganized tribes. Savage cannibal things that are barely even Gesshru. They won’t put up a fight at all really, but the animals of that forest make it impassable. We’d have the entire coastline open if we could push through the trees somehow, but there’s no way an army can make it through unnoticed.” 

Another stomp. Another crunch, the blood of my aching wounds splashing forward to leave a few telltale drops. They wouldn’t be seen among the open rocky landscape, a dry and arid waste only slightly more hospitable than the frigid cold one finds to the south. If I were to run I’d have to be running north, that’s my escape plan. Go where the Gashn armies and their remote controls can’t follow, and hope none of the wild animals or ‘disorganized’ tribes know how to pilot a human. From there … I don’t know, and I don’t really care. Probably just make weapons of my own and then find some way to storm the Ontal military base. 

At the very least it would be a welcome break from killing people and a chance to talk to someone who isn’t brainwashed or an idiot.

“I think the moment you start trying to tame that jungle you will find there are more players here than just the Cavni Federation. You know they were deliberately snapping your weapons right? They know what a weapon is. They know you can’t hurt them if you don’t have weapons.” She was talking tactics and I was listening, was this what it’s like to the pet dog of an idiot general? 

“Treats.” Doth said suddenly. “For all of your hard today we need to get you a treat. What is it Maxes eat besides nutriment paste?” 

A heavy sigh escaped my lips. 

“On this planet I’m not entirely certain, I know some of the fruits might be edible but we didn’t have any time to explore and verify before my whole team was captured. The nutriment paste is part of our rations for the trip here you know, and I’m sure the only reason you know how to replicate it is by copying our shipboard food processor.”

“Normally getting a treat means a nice, fresh prisoner to chow down on. Gobble up the tasty little easterner like it was nothing.” She leans forward and hugs, still talking in that sickly sweet pet owner voice. 

She must have a very high opinion of her species if she expects all Gesshru to be tasty. 

“If you keep talking like that I will feel more inclined to nibble on you for a bit. Hop out of that control panel and find out. It’d be a real treat, I assure you.” If only she would think to try that on her own. If only … 

“But every Max I’ve actually seen finds live Gesshru a punishment. Even despite being designed to eat meat with high efficiency, you don’t actually like eating meat. It’s just so odd. So then what do we give you instead?” She was brainstorming. A mind control alien mouse was trying to think. Another crunch, I almost tripped over a rock and Doth was horrifically clumsy in keeping my body upright and stable. No pilot ever did a good job of that. 

“You could try offering chocolate instead, I’m sure you know how to synthesize it.” What I wouldn’t give for a bit of cheesecake right now. Not that I’ll ever tell them that, I don’t need people assuming I’ve turned to the mouse side. Chocolate would do.

“We both know you enjoyed having free control to roam around. Especially for a long walk. Maybe walks around the compound?”  She muses quietly.

“Now there’s an idea. I would love to scout your military base for security holes I can exploit.” If she could pull that off it actually would be a treat.

More crunching, boots through the sand as loomed into view over the distance. How many miles was it? Far enough that I’d rather rest here than walk all the way back, but I didn’t have much say in how or where my legs moved. Doth had this inane idea that her being in control meant I could have a break. It was still my legs, my energy, my blood on display, she was simply making sure I couldn’t pace myself or ease any of the pain. 

“But simple animals want food as treats, not more work and exercise. I’m sure you’d much rather a tasty meal than a silly old walk.” Her sickly sweet tone was more than grating by now. 

“Give me ten seconds alone with Tasgal and I’ll have myself a lovely little treat.” My own reply was just as sweet.

“I know!” she shouts suddenly, the high pitched chirp of a rodent right behind my ears. She wasn’t exactly all that loud but it still made my hair tingle. “Seeds. You can eat them, can’t you? So what if we just sprinkle some people food in your mush to give it a better flavor?” 

“Give me the seeds outside of the mush thank you, different colored foods aren’t supposed to touch.” I replied in deadpan. 

“Eerrgn, but then that would take up week’s worth of food just to give you a tiny bit of flavoring. I don’t know if any supply manager will sign off on that. Maybe something cheaper, something we already have a lot of. Oh! You guys don’t eat live Gesshru …” 

“Most of the time.” I cut her off.

“MOST Max units don’t eat a live Gesshru, but none of you guys seem to have a problem eating dead ones.” 

“No.” 

“If we chop up a prisoner into little pieces first then they could spread out over a lot of food, flavoring the whole batch.” 

“Whatever you are thinking, stop it. No. Bad mouse alien! Don’t make me smack you.” 

She rubs into the back of my head with all the care and adoration of a loving pet owner. Hair mussed about, her paws massaging my scalp while that irritatingly happy voice whispers behind my ears. It sounds like someone inside my head whenever she does this, whenever any pilot does this, and just leaves me thankful that the collar and helmet are external and tapping into my spine. If they had the capacity to tear my skull open and plug the access panels directly into my brain I’m sure these things would have done so by now. 

“Won’t that make you feel good? You won’t even have to kill the cute little easterners. Just get the juicy blood all over your food, lap it up like water.” 

“Shut up. SHUT UP!” 

“Who’s an excited little maneater. Aaawwww haha, you sound so cute when you’re happy.” 

I screamed. She kept talking and I couldn’t drown it out. 

This was a very long walk back to Ontal.