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She emphasizes as she speaks. “Oh Kay.” She pats the ankle and she grins. “Oh kay.” Then she tucks her legs beneath herself.

Oh Kay? It seems like she means the wound is mild.

I sit back. “May See. Oh Kay.”

She nods vigorously and smiles.

“If you say so, tiny female, I believe you.” I have my doubts. But it isn’t as though I have any bandages hidden away in my kilt, anyway. What can I do?

She twists her body to look back out through the entry crack. She says something, gesturing. Shakes her head and sighs. She lifts her hands and wrings water from her hair, and she winces.

“What is it?” I demand, leaning forward. She flinches away.

Then she reaches behind her, touches her back.

When she holds her fingers up to her face, they’re covered in blood.


Tags: Roxy Nash Science Fiction