Stepping over to him, I slowly reach for the last remaining bandage. Understanding dawns across his face, and he lets me peel back the bandage. As I examine the wound, Ravok watches me with a quiet intensity that prickles down the back of my neck, and I can’t help but glance up to meet his gaze. I get captured in his stare momentarily before I shake myself loose. With heat rising up my neck, I turn my attention back to his shoulder.
His wounds are almost completely healed, which still blows my mind even though I was expecting it. His alien biology is mind-boggling. I go to replace the bandages, but he takes them from my fingers with a finality and tosses them into the kitchen trash can. He’s okay, which means we can’t stay holed up here, even if I want to.
After a moment of deliberation, I decide to change my clothes. I head to the bedroom. I don’t realize Ravok has followed me until I turn back to close the door. I barely manage to keep from screeching in surprise right in his face. I swallow my surprise and hold up my ‘wait a sec’ finger. Ravok looks disgruntled but doesn’t say anything as I close the door.
Once I pull on a fresh pair of underwear, jeans, and a shirt, I find him waiting exactly where I left him – practically pressed flush against the bedroom door. He follows me as I head to the mudroom. When I sit on the bench and lace up my tennis shoes, I look up to find Ravok observing me quietly. It hits me then that we don’t have shoes for him – if we head into the woods to check on his ship, he’ll have to go barefoot. Pointing at Ravok’s feet, then my own, I use a hand motion suggesting footwear. He tilts his head slightly to one side, a puzzled expression marking his silver features before he shrugs nonchalantly.
I let out a sigh. Of course, it’s not as though I carry alien-sized shoes in my suitcase. There is nothing more we can do about it.
Returning my attention to Ravok, I decide to tackle the next challenge. I head over to the coffee table and pick up his hoodie. We need to cover up his charcoal gray alien torso. We can’t exactly keep a low profile with him gently shimmering in broad daylight, looking like an Unseelie dark elf straight from a fantasy novel. Thankfully, he nods when he sees it – a part of me expected to have to argue with him again. Guiding his hands into the sleeves, Ravok watches me with an unreadable expression as I help him put on his hoodie. His impressive physique makes the task a bit more challenging than usual, but we manage.
I paw through my purse and grab a pair of sunglasses. Then rummage through my first aid kit and grab a face mask. If we somehow stumble across someone else in the woods, this is the best disguise I can think of. I’ll tell them my companion is contagious, which should keep the curious far away.
I stuff the glasses and mask in a jacket pocket and head towards the back door with Ravok in tow.
Under the soft embrace of the dawning sun, I lead Ravok through the dew-kissed shrubbery of the forest. The air carries a playful chill, raising prickles on my skin even through my jacket. Birds are up and calling, their songs threading through the early morning fog still clinging to the trees. Despite their sweet chatter, everything feels tranquil.
Ravok moves silently alongside me, looking at the forest with a curious gleam in his eyes. Each rustle of leaves, each unseen creature scampering in the underbrush, every bird whistle garners his attention. He watches with keen interest as though cataloging every foreign whisper resting in the woods.
The sun gradually creeps higher, its silken tendrils peeking over the horizon and painting the cerulean canvas above with streaks of apricot and rose.
“Ravok,” I nudge him gently, pointing at two squirrels frolicking and chasing each other across the tree branches arching over the path. “Look at them. Those are squirrels.”
He looks up as we walk under the branch where the squirrels chitter loudly at one another before scampering away. Ravok looks at me and gives me his usual grin, which is starting to do strange things to my heart.
“We’ve still got a bit of a walk, Ravok,” I warn him, observing him step over a freshly fallen log. I’m worried that it’s too soon for us to trek through the uneven terrain of the woods. He seems fine, but I will still fret like the worrywart I am. I give him a reassuring smile that tugs at my lips. It’s a pleasure to see him out in daylight. His dark silver sheen gleams spectacularly under the sun.
After a few more minutes of walking, we reach the lake’s edge, the sunlight above making the water sparkle like a sheet of pure diamonds. Ravok’s gaze locks onto the water. He walks barefoot into the water, letting the cool water lap at his ankles, causing ripples to race across the tranquil surface.
“Come on,” I murmur, gently pulling at his arm. We walk along the lake’s edge, my shoes imprinting deep into the water-softened soil, leaving a trail behind us. I point out the ducks happily swimming across the lake and the deer hoofprints in the soft mud of the shoreline.
With one last look at the lake, we plunge back into the woods, the path under our feet becoming increasingly tangled. It doesn’t take long until we reach the crash site.
The branches that cover his ship have started to dry and brown, but it’s still mostly concealed. The sunlight filters in through the sparse gaps in the branches, casting wild patterns over the ship, adding to its ethereal aura.
“There it is, Ravok,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. Seeing an alien spaceship in the middle of the woods is still weird and jarring.
My heart thumps a tumultuous rhythm as I shadow Ravok’s fluid strides, watching him scrutinize every inch of his ship. Considering that it crashed landed, the exterior doesn’t even seem dented. Besides the dirt, soot, smudges, and the branches I piled over it, it looks ready to fly away. I must admit to myself that a part of me doesn’t like that idea.
Ravok drags his fingers across the alien metal surface, checking over the shiny hull, his brows knotted in thought. I have no idea what he’s looking for or how to help, so I follow him around the ship, keeping an eye out on the surrounding area. The odds of someone stumbling upon us are low, but not zero. Plus, it gives me something to do.
He tugs off a fir branch that I’d draped over the entrance to the ship. A clumsy attempt on my part to camouflage the vessel. Ravok holds it up, turning to look at me with his sharp eyebrows raised in question.
I respond with a modest shrug, somehow feeling both proud and embarrassed. “All me,” I admit in a murmur, “I’ve watched enough movies to know that a spaceship landing in your backyard is a one-way ticket to unwanted attention.”
Ravok tosses the branch that I’d barely been able to carry aside with an almost casual gesture.
Damn. My goodness, his strength. It had taken all my strength to drag and heave that branch to the ship, and he’d just tossed it aside one-handed.
Ravok heads inside the ship’s shadowed entrance. I trail after him like a tethered kite caught in his orbit. I step tentatively into the ship, the coolness of alien metal seeping into my soles.
The interior is dark, the weak morning light hardly reaching past the entrance. The walls are bathed in a soft, eerie glow, casting dancing shadows around the heart of the craft. The walls, dark and shiny, glisten with a muted sheen. There are a few sporadic lighted symbols on a few panels that look more like hieroglyphs than a language to me. They pulse with a rhythm just out of sync with my heartbeat. The slick, metallic floor swallows the echo of my cautious footsteps. The air tastes different in here – sharp and infused with a strange kind of electricity that reminds me of ozone.
Ravok quickly strides towards the cockpit. Rows of blinking lights, unfamiliar symbols, and glowing holographic screens line the walls, creating an elaborate control panel. I frown at the abundance of alien text, a bunch of squiggling lines that bear no resemblance to any language I’ve ever encountered.
This ship, Ravok’s ship, is a testament to a civilization light years ahead of human technology.
Taking a step back, I allow myself to merely observe as Ravok takes a seat in the cockpit. His tall, imposing frame cuts a striking figure against the gleaming shimmer of the alien technology. He settles into the chair easily, smoothly sliding his hands across the console in a practiced fashion.
Arrays of buttons flicker to life under his touch, the soft glow painting his skin in tones of sapphire and amethyst, accentuating the sharp contours of his face. Suddenly, an enormous screen fills with a flurry of alien texts and symbols.
The alien words twist and scroll across the screen in a beautiful way while simultaneously feeling threatening – maybe it’s the harsh slashes that make up Ravok’s language. He seems unaware of my wariness and observation as he intently studies the strange symbols.
His fingers are almost a blur as he flicks through levers and clicks various buttons. His luminous eyes never leave the screen as he works.
After a few minutes that feel like an eternity, Ravok rises from his seat, and a chill slides down my spine at the look of worry painted across his stoic face. It’s a stark contrast to the confident figure he had presented minutes ago – the contrast drives a punch of fear into my gut.
Ravok then approaches the glass-encased chair or bed – I’m not sure what it is. However, when I look around, I don’t see any other place where he can sleep. Although maybe there’s a bed behind one of the gleaming, almost seamless panels lining the spaceship’s walls. However, the ship is pretty tiny and spartan, so I can’t imagine how there are any additional living spaces other than what I can see. I stand back, giving him room. He runs his fingers over the odd spherical indentations on the side of the dome. A tablet slides out of the side of the dome, alien characters dancing across its surface.
Those eerie white eyes of his dart run over the characters on the screen, and I can see the worry drop from his forehead. He seems relieved, which reassures me.
Ravok glances back at me where I’m hovering near a wall and holds my gaze, his white eyes shining with resolution. He raises a hand, palm out, signaling me to stay put. I can’t help but swallow hard. His serious expression does little to calm my frazzled nerves.
“Purdunkt forn, Leelee.” His deep voice rings clear in the still air. Although I don’t understand the alien words, I get sit-stay vibes. A silent nod is all I can offer him because staying and not touching anything aligns perfectly with my existing plans. Knowing me, I’d hit a button and launch us into space or explode the moon or something.
My breath catches in my throat when Ravok taps a button on the screen, and the glass dome slides open. The only sound is a sleek whisper against the silent cabin ambiance. Its smooth movement reminds me of those sci-fi shows I used to binge-watch when life was simpler, when aliens were only figments of Hollywood’s imagination.
Ravok turns to give me another look, his gaze softening briefly before sliding into the chair. His impressive physique makes the chair seem small, but he settles with apparent ease, entirely at home.
