TOY SOLDIER [IX] ▸ Poe Dameron

CHAPTER THIRTEEN [XIII]

ALYA SNAPPED RIGHT AWAY, HER HANDS REACHING FOR THE BLASTER AT HER BELT, BUT IT WAS TOO LATE. A BLINDING PAIN RIPPED THROUGH THE SIDE OF MY NECK AS SHARP TEETH PIERCED MY FLESH. I let out a roar, screaming for Alya, my body jerking in pain.

"Hold still! Dammit, Poe! Fuck, stop moving!" She cursed. "Hold still, I can shoot it!"

"Hurry the hell up!" I yelled impatiently, feeling the fur of the unfamiliar creature that was attached to my neck as I reached over my shoulder. I held it in place, as I was unable to loosen its vice-like grip on me. "Shoot it, dammit, this hurts!"

Alya aimed, her grip on her blaster shaky and not reassuring me at all, but fired. The creature was dead in an instant and collapsed to the floor. I looked at it in awe. Dirty, matted brown fur that smelled like no odor I had ever smelt before. This fur covered this creature that was no bigger than BB-8. Its arms were long and lanky, primatal, hanging to the floor way past its tree-climbing, reflexive knees. Its yellow eyes were rolled back in its head and its tusk-like teeth were still peeking from its cured lips. This must be a rograt, or whatever it is those foul creatures of Poyter were called that I had heard so much about. I was in my thoughts, a daze, staring down at the beast, but all of a sudden the sharp tinge of splitting pain in my neck and head made me wince and ground back to reality.

I had never seen Alya so frantic. She immediately had scrambled over to me. Her voice wavered, blabbering out, "Oh stars, are you okay? Ah, fuck! This looks bad, this looks really, really fucking bad!" She then glanced up like an owl, cocking and pivoting her head around to make sure no more were on their way, and returned her focus back onto me. She settled my head into her lap and gently moved my neck to the side to view the gash, but not without an involuntary flinch from me.

"Sorry, sorry!" She hissed quickly. She pulled out an expensive-looking, intricate and probably ancient part of her purple tunic. However valuable it may have looked, she didn't take note of this at all when she tore it away without hesitation. She balled it up in her hand and dabbed it to my neck, holding my head steady in her other hand.

"W-will there be more?" I groaned out, feeling the sting of the fabric to the ripped skin.

"No, they don't travel in packs, gratefully. Rograts aren't very social beasts. Not sure if you could tell, but they aren't the friendliest of critters." I felt the strain of her torso moving away from underneath me and I heard her voice trail as she twisted away and rummaged in her pack. She murmured to herself, "Shit, come on, I gotta have a chapter on this.."

"Just keep pressure on the wound," I told her calmly, wincing and letting out a moan of pain. She looked down at me, her eyes wild. "It's all going to be okay," I said. "I'll teach you. Is the bleeding heavy?"

"Yes, but it's subsiding."

"Not infected? No yellowing marks or discolored skin?"

"Erm, doesn't seem to be, no."

"And it's not getting in my hair, right?"

I felt Alya's abdomen jolt beneath me. She let out a noise of shock, silent until she looked down at my face. "You're smirking, aren't you!" She accused, groaning. "That was a joke?"

I snickered to myself and at the princess' outrage, despite the pain that wracked my head every time I laughed. "I thought I'd lighten the mood."

"That's not funny, Poe! I'm super fucking on-edge right now, you know!"

"I know." I said, grinning. "That's why I figured you could use the joke."

"Maybe you're right, but you are bleeding out all over my lap."

"Oh, but it's so nice to see you care for once." I joked. "You really do care, huh."

She sucked in her cheek. I could see her turning red. "If your head wasn't bleeding, I'd slap you. Consider yourself lucky."

"But is the hair okay?"

A sharp glare, and then a long, exasperated sigh. "Yes, Poe."