It had been a very trying day for Nehzgal so far. She had woken up without the kind eliksni broodmother. In fact the only person she could smell was the eliksni who had poked her a while ago. The room was very bright and the nest she was in, while quite soft, was very exposed. She did not wish to be poked again, so it was probably best to hide. She waited till the pokey eliksni left and darted out through the door. Immediately, searing light near blinded her, but she could hear and sense people nearby. Blinking, eyes streaming, she ran, away from the noise and light, until she reached a place that contained only the slow placid sounds and thoughts of some kind of animal. Nehzgal ran inside. The room she found herself in contained no animals, only piles of thick, soft furs. A perfect place to hide, rest, and plan.
Well, there were about to be more exciting thoughts added to the mix. Sermik stepped into the room, arms loaded up well with the implements for washing the flufferpillar furs to make actual clothes out of them. She'd heard about the commotion of course - Preehar was quite concerned about her missing patient, and so was Saleekskel, but...well, they told her that said patient was another hybird, perhaps a nest mate of hers. They'd asked her to help look for the little thrall, and she'd only told them that as long as people were actively looking, their new guest was going to hide in the deepest corner she could find. It was important for thralls to be able to hide well, least they got eaten. If she wanted to be found, if she wanted to talk to someone - and it sounded like she liked Saleekskel a lot - she would come back out on their own, and probably be less scared than if someone dragged her kicking and screaming. So instead of looking, Sermik had nudged the door close with a secondary arm, humming an Eliksni lullaby under her breath. They tended to get stuck in her head after helping with the hatchlings. She put her collection of combs and brushes down and reached for the first fur to card into shape.
The piles of furs were a perfect hiding place, nice and soft and deep enough she wouldnt make a bump. At least until someone walked in! The stranger was hummimg something. Not a spell or melody Nehzgal had ever heard her mother use, this was much quiter, softer. She settled down, preparing to keep a mental eye on the stranger till they left, when the stranger began dismanteling her hiding place! Nehzgal hissed/projected "I am very big and you are scared of me!" And tried to scramble even deeper under the furs
Wh- Those weren't her thoughts. The lullaby cut of sharply. Sermik's hand jerked back from the fur without taking any but. Well. She had been born Hive. If you showed fear, you died. If you fought, you had a chance to live, and something had clearly just tried to burrow deeper into the fur pile. "Come out of there." She crouched down in front of the pile, hands sstill kept to herself but ready to pounce. You couldn't hide anthing that big inside the fur pile. Certainly nothing bigger than the warbeasts she took out on her hunts.
A set of seven bright green eyes peered back at her. "I'll bite if you try to eat me!/I'm a sharp stinging plant" Wordless concepts are dropped directly into Shermihs mind. Nehzgal lifts her head and clacks her fangs, for emphasis. Mostly because she can feel the wall at her toes. Nowhere to run. Not unless the stranger moves.
Oh that feels so, so weird. Sure they have two Psions living here now too, but they don't....they don't feel like this. This seems...clumsier, like hatchlings playing with little rocks before they're given proper writing tools. It kind of makes her head hurt, really. "I don't want to eat you, I bet you're boney and terrible-tasting." She sniffed and shifted her weight backwards a little. "I'm-" She wants to say Sermik, her Eliksni name, but- but something about this reminds her of when she'd first arrived at the Enclave and Darhek had to fish her out of te compost bin. "I'm Shermih."
The stranger, Shermih, says they dont want to eat her but what if theyre lying? But they dont smell like lies. After some consideration, Nehzgal wriggled all the way back and crawls up behind the furs, almost toppling the stack before perching on it. Maybe she should offer Shermih a name? "Nehzgal. I'm Nehzgal. Do you know where the broodqueen is?" An image of Saleeks is dropped into Shermihs mind
Oh. Yeah that sure is a Thrall. Sort of. That's a lot of eyes, and she can definitely see why Saleekskel thought this might be a nest sibling of hers. But she doesn't smell right, there's no trace of Ether on her like she'd expect from someone part Eliksni or even part Scorn. But clearly she's not fully Hive either, and the eyes aren't the only giveaway, just the obvious one. "Hello Nehzgal." Yeah there almost certainly had to be Psion in there too? At least the way images slipped into her mind were very like that. It was so, so strange to have that happen while looking at...well, Hive. "Saleekskel is away at the market." She tried to pull the image of the Ref market into her mind, the riot of colors and scent and Saleeks and her people loaded with things to sell for supplies, flufferpillar furs and herbs, soaps and powders made by the resident Awoken, warbeast leathers...everything. "She will be back later today."
Now that it seemed like Shermih wasnt going to eat her, Nehzgal took a moment to really look at her. What she saw was hive, but not, and she didnt smell like a sibling, she smelled like the kind Broodmother. Maybe one of her clutch? She claimed the Broodmother was elsewhere, but not fighting. How odd. However, in between all the many memory impressions, Nehzgal caught a smell of food, and her stomach growled. "Will she bring food?"
She was indeed not going to eat her, but oh, Sermik remembered arriving at the Enclave and being hungry and not understanding how food worked here. Not having to fight for it, or scavenge, or steal, or any of those things. How confusing all of that had been, and how disorienting. Maybe working on the furs could wait for a bit. People would understand if this took a bit longer, in exchange of getting Nehzgal some snacks. "She will, but we have food right now. You're hungry, yes?" And maybe had been for a while. Scrawny little Thrallpsion.
"Yes!" The look she gives Shermih does not require telepathy to translate. Of course shes hungry shes a thrall. Is water wet? More importantly, does Shermih have food? This is, in fact, important enough to risk creeping a little closer, within arms reach. Still, Nehzgal is tense as spring, ready to run at a moments notice
Was water wet indeed. Thralls were always hungry, it was a fact of life. She remembers that part of her life just barely, but acolytes were barely better fed. "Alright, we'll get you food then." She stands slowly, making sure not to scare or startle Nehzgal. "Do you want to come along? Or stay here while I get something?" There should still be stew leftover from yesterday, and the fresh ether spiral harvest...though maybe not that, Psions reacted strangely to it, and Nehzgal seems to be one, at least partially. But maybe the star apples were ripe already...
Oh, choices. This building seemed very safe, and the outside very loud, but on the other hand, if she went along with Shermih there would be food much faster than if she stayed. In the end, her hunger won out and Nehzgal hopped off the pile. Standing up she was rather taller than most thrall, but just as thin.
Almost as tall as Shermih herself, which was not what she's expected from the folded-up thrall impression just now. But good, time to feed the newcomer. "Good, just follow me? We'll go to the kitchen, everyone gets their food there. If you're hungry, you can just go and get some as well." That was the part that she'd needed taught too, after all. But maybe Nehzgal could avoid compost incidents like hers.
The outside was still loud, and bright, ans Nehzgal did her best to hide in Shermihs shadow on the way to the kitchen and its delicious food smells. In a hive nest, an intelligent thrall could sometimes scavenge not only choice bit of food, but also information about the nest and its lines of power. Shermih was odd. People stopped and greeted her as if she was of high standing, but no one cowered or tasted of fear.
She greeted them in turn, but didn't stop for long. Nehzgal would probably be more comfortable in a confined space. She still got twitchy out in the open sometimes, it had to be worse for her. The kitchen at least contained a lot less people. Darhek was the unchallenged ruler of it, after all, and he didn't want people getting in the way - or the cookies. "Right. Sit here, wait, i'll get you some stew." She pointed at one of the stools by the chopping table, which looked like it could be a comfortable height for a little thrallion and Shermih...well, she'd find a bowl she could and start feeding the newcomer. Looking at how scrawny Nehzgal was, a big bowl seemed like a good idea. Biggest bowl they had, in fact.
The kitchen smelled wonderful, and Nehzgal had to take a momrnt to stare. She didnt think she'd ever seen that much food in one place without anyone fighting over it. The stool worked, more or less, once she figured out how to fold her legs up. But it felt awfully exposed. "How do I keep the food safe?"
"You don't have to. You can just come and get more food if you want to." She started laddling stew into a bowl. This was going to be a good one, lots of vegetables, insect protein, and roots, the steam smelling intensely of spices and herbs and just...home. It smelled like home and comfort to her, and maybe it would be the same for Nehzgal. She held the bowl out to her, together with a spoon. "Here. Eat."
On one hand, food. Right there. On the other, Nehzgal was pretty sure she'd just heard Shermih claim no one was going to take her food, which meant a parade of singing ogres in flower crowns was going to start any minute now. It made about the same amount of sense., and she let Shermih know as much. On the third eliksni, hand, food was food and she was hungry, so Nehzgal took the bowl and began eating, hunched over it to protect it as best she could on the wide open table. Eating made her thirsty, so she watched the movements of the kitchen till she spied a chance, then started to a sink to pushed her head under a running tap, gulping water as fast as possible.
Shermih had indeed claimed that, and once the bowl was out of her hands, simply went to get herself something to snack on as well, nibbling some of the dried star apple slices she'd saved up until now. Would Nehzgal perhaps like something sweet? It wasn't a flavour hive were overly familiar with, but she found herself enjoying it... Though of course that would have to wait, apparently because oh dear. "You can have a glass." The water wasn't going anywhere either, though she was familiar with the delight of clean, fresh water. Not the tepid, often concerningly alive stuff you could find in a hive nest that was at least half some sort of body fluid.
