In Search Of Home - One-Shots

AU: Viktor Escapes

A/N: Along with some one-shots of other characters, I decided I wanted to try out some different ideas of how ISOH could have progressed. In this AU, the arena was never busted by the police, Vok'Rul never met Viktor at the vet, and the humans never proved their sentience. A full two years have gone by since Viktor and the others were first captured and placed in the arena.

This is very long! About 50k words! It just ran away on me, haha

Vokkran phrases are listed at the end of the chapter for your convenience! I would definitely recommend going to the bottom and copy-pasting the translations in a note (or open up another tab) so you don't have to keep scrolling back and forth :P There are quite a few of them, but they are not necessary to understand the one-shot. 

***

"Sixty-three bottles of beer on the wall," Ezekiel wailed, smacking his empty bowl on the bars. His voice was weak, tired, and really, really fucking annoying. "Sixty-three bottles of beeeeer."

"Stop," Aiko replied tonelessly. "This is the fourth time you've sung it."

"Let's make it a fifth!" Ezekiel sat up from his position on the floor. "All together now! Ninety-nine-"

"Lay back down, you imbecile," Aiko snapped with no heat. "You'll tear your stitches."

"Some stitches," Ezekiel muttered, lying back down. "No way these can be called stitches."

Viktor stared at the ceiling, feeling his wounds throb in time with his heartbeat. He breathed in deep, the familiar smell of animal musk and dung accosting him. There was a scent of chill in the air. It was getting colder again.

Nikolas told them a few days ago that they had passed the seven hundredth and sixty-fifth day in this arena. Viktor didn't really know how to feel about that. Over two years of fighting for his life on an alien planet.

Well, he did know. But his anger and offense had been chipped away to nothing but grudging acceptance and bitterness. They weren't getting out of here. They were stuck.

Viktor - Kohgrash - was still the star of the arena, even two years later. Fortunately, it seemed that some of the interest was tapering off. He didn't go out nearly every day the arena was open like he had months ago. It left him with more time than he knew what to do with, though. He could only count how many pieces of straw were in his cell before he started to seriously question his sanity.

At least he had company.

"Hey, kiddo," Pedro called, rapping his knuckles against the set of bars they shared. Viktor looked over balefully. "How are you holdin' up?"

"You ever get tired of asking that question?" Viktor replied dryly. He settled his hands over his stomach - more specifically, the gash that one of the smaller dog-like species gave him with their claws. It stung to even put the smallest amounts of pressure on it, but so long as he didn't breathe too deeply, it was easy enough to ignore.

The ointment that Lilac gave them after a particularly harsh fight didn't hurt any less years later. Viktor couldn't even lie and say he had grown used to the pain - it was so searing and abrupt that there was no chance he'd ever tolerate it - but at least it helped. This sort of wound would have pulled him out of school for weeks.

He didn't think himself as squeamish. He wouldn't have lasted as long as he did if he were. Still, when he had first looked at the wound, he felt, just a little, sick to his stomach. It did not help that his shirt was torn down the front, now. He didn't even have anything to sew it with! Not that he knew how to sew.

His dad did. He missed his dad.

"Nah, not with your charming answers," Pedro replied, bringing him back to the present. It was probably a good thing. The less he thought about his dad, the better.

Viktor rolled his eyes, painfully moving his body so that he could get a better view of Pedro. "Well, to answer you, not that great. I think it has something to do with my guts being one hard sneeze away from expelling out of my body. Or maybe a hard cough. Wanna test it and see?"

The older man frowned at him, rather severely for what was an epic joke, Viktor thought. "Don't say shit like that, kid."

"Why?" Viktor said flatly. "Or else it'll come true? It'd be a better way out than bleeding out in the fuckin' sand."

"Kid!" Pedro snapped harshly. Viktor glared and managed to roll over so that his back was facing the man. He stared hard at the wall, wishing he was anywhere but here. "Come on, Viktor. Don't be like that."

"Leave him alone, Pedro," he heard Aiko say gently. "It's been a day."

It took the rest of the day for Viktor to not feel like a colossal sack of shit, and by that time, Lilac was handing out the food bowls. He sat up, painfully, just as she got to his cell. He watched her carefully as she entered his cell.

She said something - Viktor still didn't know many words beyond kora, norish, and Kohgrash, though he had eventually figured out the words for win and lose even if they were phrases spat by the ringmaster to his henchmen when ushering the humans out to the arena - and came closer to check on his bandages. Viktor let her - not like he had much of a choice - and tried not to flinch away from her sharp claws.

Lilac was the nicest of the aliens. It still didn't mean that she couldn't hold him in a vice grip that bruised something terrible after she let go. Viktor remained as cautious as he could around her.

"Prosh, Kohgrash," she cooed after she replaced the bandages on his stomach. Viktor had pinpricks of tears burning at the backs of his eyes due to the pain. Like always, she retreated an inch. Like always, she didn't let him edge past her to get out of this hellhole. And just like always, she attempted to pet his head.

"Get away!" he snapped with a swipe at her arm. His knuckles brushed against her wrist, but she was too quick for him to land a hit. Just like always.

Lilac looked at him with those eyes. The sad, miserable ones you had for abused dogs you could do nothing about. Sympathetic but apathetic all the same.

Viktor had learned a long time ago that Lilac could be just as cruel as the ringmaster.

When she finally left, leaving a bowl of slop in her wake, Viktor relaxed. He swallowed the food quickly, barely tasting it. He pushed the bowl toward the front of his cell - not that he had to shove it far, he thought bitterly - and curled up the best he could on his cheap heating pad.

It barely offered any warmth, but it was the best he got. His hoodie - torn to shreds as it was - could barely keep his warmth in.

He looked toward Pedro's cell cautiously. The other man wasn't one to hold a grudge, but Viktor always felt a bit bad when he snapped at him. It seemed he was doing that more and more lately. Everything just seemed so pointless. Why live another day when the next could be your last?

He guessed it didn't really help that he was stuck in this five by five cell.

Pedro was picking at his own food, eating with less voracity than him. The Hispanic man looked over his shoulder at him, no doubt feeling his gaze. Viktor smiled sheepishly, though it probably came out as more of a grimace.

The man smiled back at him, and Viktor knew all had been forgiven, even if the other was likely reluctant to let it go.

He was proven correct when, after everyone had fallen asleep, Pedro shoved his arm through the bars and smacked Viktor's knee with a whispered, "Wake up, kid."

Viktor jerked in fright, which was a mistake since the action tore at his stomach. He groaned, trying to stifle it with a growled, "What?"

"Always so grumpy when I wake you," he swore he heard Pedro mutter fondly. He squinted in the dim light.

"Was already up," he lied with a mumble, propping himself on his elbows and trying to ignore the stiff prickling of the straw on his skin. "What'd you smack me for?"

Pedro seemed to brace himself, and Viktor got a bad feeling in his stomach. "Well," he started slowly, chewing on his lip. "I wanted to talk to you. Without the others hearing."

Ugh. Viktor suspected that this talk was about things of the emotional variety. "I'm fine," he groused.

Pedro didn't seem to hear him. "I know that living in a cell is not something most people can handle, especially with our... unique situation." The other man sounded like he was choking on the words. "But you're handling it super well, and I'm really proud of you."

Something squirmed in his stomach. Embarrassment, he thought. He quickly sat up, pulling his knees to his chest. "Um, thanks," he said, just a little touched. His dad had often said he was proud of him, and although the words had been almost as common as I love you, Viktor hasn't heard them in a while. It was not unpleasant to hear them again, even if he didn't think he's done anything to be proud of.

He's killed things - though, less often now - and beaten things to a bloody pulp so that they wouldn't be able to beat him to a bloody pulp.

"And even though you're handling this well, all things considered, I'm worried about you. You're- you're darker than the kid I met on the truck."

Viktor wished he had a blanket to wrap around himself so he could hide. As it were, he hunched his shoulders the best he could, looking away from Pedro's concerned face. "I'm not the same kid I was on the truck," he mumbled into his arms, which he had crossed over his knees.

The man nodded, "I know." There was a sigh, some shuffling, and looking up revealed that Pedro had moved closer to their shared set of bars. "Who could expect you to be? I just... I just want to make sure that when you go into the arena next time, you won't just... give up."

Pedro's voice was alarmingly choked up, and Viktor feared the man would start crying.

Viktor's mouth was suddenly really dry, and it took licking his lips a few times before he was able to speak, "Well, you don't. Gotta worry about that, I mean. I've- fought like hell to get here. I'm not going to give up."

Even if... Even if it felt like it would be the best option.

Viktor's gotten close a few times. Every time he felt his body still as a deer creature barreled toward him, either the creature would go down in a twitching mess of shocks, or his feet would move him out of the way. He never actively sought it out - the world just started to slow down when danger rushed toward him and he... hesitated.

"Bullshit, Vik," Pedro snapped, voice uncharacteristically icy. Unbidden, Viktor's eyes met his, wide and wary. "I know that's not true because- because I've come close to giving up, too."

Viktor felt a thrill of panic shoot through him. "You can't!" he cried, scrambling from his spot on the floor and grasping the bars. Pedro's hands settled over his. "Pedro- you can't give up, I need- I need you!"

Large fingers squeezed his. "I know, kid. All of us need you, too. I'm no therapist, but I can listen. Whatever you need to get off your chest, I'm here for it."

Viktor wanted to protest, to offer up already-there excuses that he was fine. But even he could admit that he wasn't. It wasn't okay that he was stuck in this dogfighting ring, forced to fight creatures he didn't know and for aliens he had no choice but to obey. But there was nothing any of them could do about it.

"We're stuck, Pedro," Viktor whispered. "We can't do anything but eat, sleep, and fight these animals. Is that all our lives are gonna amount to? Sooner or later - someone's gonna break a leg so badly they won't be able to fix it - and then what? They're gonna be put down like- like an animal, and I-"

Embarrassingly, Viktor couldn't get any more words out, emotions stuck in his throat. His eyes burned with angry, vicious tears. Pedro shoved his arms through the bars as best he could and wrapped them around his shoulders. Both of them were thin and wiry, making the endeavor easier. Still, malnutrition only highlighted the fact that they were almost fated to die in these cells.

"We'll get out," Pedro whispered into his hair. Viktor shook in his arms. Even he could hear the lack of faith in the man's voice. "I swear it, Viktor, I swear."

Hope was not something Viktor had relied heavily on in the past year. Hope is for people with a chance, and all of the humans in the arena knew that there was none to spare for them. Things could have been different. If there had been kinder aliens on the other side of the bars, if the locks weren't electronic, if the collars around their throats didn't demand obedience every time they were on the other side-

If there had been a sting operation, made possible only by one sympathetic alien.

The days passed at the same pace they always have, both slow and long. Day in and day out, Kohgrash was shoved into the arena. Sometimes, he won, and sometimes, he lost. Sometimes, he came back to the warehouse with only bruises covering his skin, and sometimes, there were bone-deep lacerations that hurt when looked at.

In another place and another time, there was a Kohgrash with healing wounds and begrudging trust for one particular alien.

But this Kohgrash was not so lucky.

"Pora," the ringmaster growled at him, looking much more surly than he had the previous day. Viktor was unimpressed, glaring at the hateful alien. If looks could kill. "Kohgrash, pora!"

"Shut your fuckin' face, I'm going," Viktor snapped back, baring his teeth at the alien as he cautiously stepped forward. He lifted his head up for Tail to snap on the leash as he crossed the threshold of the open cell door. He had learned long ago that lifting his head - and baring his throat - was much more preferable than getting his head wrenched back by eager aliens.

"Careful, Viktor," Ezekiel called. His stitches had healed up, but Lilac must have told the ringmaster to wait even more, because he still hasn't been out to fight since then. "Dude seems pissed off."

"Yeah, y'think?" Viktor muttered under his breath, flinching as the ringmaster moved a bit too quickly. The ringmaster snapped something to Tail and some other new alien that they haven't seen around much before. The new one lingered, staring at the other humans with a touch of fascination on his face.

Tail said something to the new guy with laughter in his voice. The new guy jumped, looking bashful. Viktor rolled his eyes, straining against the leash as he pulled his weight toward the arena door. The sooner he got this fight over with, the sooner he could go back into the cage.

He felt the stiff leash shift behind him oddly, and he looked over his shoulder to see Tail passing it off to the new guy. It looked gleeful, excited, and nervous all at once.

"Kohgrash," it said imperiously, pulling itself straight up. "Byr to rrnkt."

"The hell are you saying?" Viktor asked. Tail laughed at the other, shoving it with its shoulder.

A loud slam! made them all jump in fright, and Viktor got as close to the ground as he could without sitting. The others started shouting advice he's heard before - cover your head, bring your knees up to your chest, don't try to catch the leash this time, lie still - as the ringmaster stomped over to them furiously. And despite the fact that Viktor has dealt with this ongoing abuse, these fits of beatings scattered throughout his stay, he still trembled in anticipatory fear as his tormentor's footfalls grew closer.

Miraculously, the ringmaster's wrath did not fall on him, but on his two cronies, instead. He shouted at them so loudly that Viktor had to reach up to cover his ears. The newcomer hastily slapped the leash in Tail's hands, throwing up its own in surrender. The ringmaster continued to growl at them, yanking the leash into his own hands and damn near throwing Viktor off his feet in the process.

Viktor rushed to comply with the ringmaster's unasked demands. It wasn't often that he led out Viktor - or any animal, really - himself, but when he did, he expected perfect, unyielding obedience. And that meant keeping himself within arm's reach on his right side. No pulling or lagging behind. No speaking.

In every sense of the word, Viktor was the perfect animal. It made him sick to his stomach.

The ringmaster spat something at the other two, shaking the leash and making Viktor wobble on his feet. He heard his name being thrown in with what were no doubt insults, likely using him as an example. The two aliens were thoroughly rebuked when the ringmaster decided he was through with them, quickly turning on his heel and marching out of the warehouse. Viktor heard quiet calls of good luck as he scurried after the alien.

"Kohgrash," the ringmaster said. Nervously, he looked up. His face was twisted in a scowl, but his glare wasn't as heated as it usually was when Viktor has pissed him off personally. The ringmaster said a few more words, and he vaguely recognized the one for win. But he also heard the one for lose.

Tentatively, he tilted his head. He didn't try to communicate with any of the aliens anymore - baring his teeth and shouting vulgarities at them notwithstanding - but he needed clarification on this one. The ringmaster was already pissed off. If Viktor chose the wrong outcome in the arena, he could see electric shocks very clearly in his future.

But the ringmaster was not in a sharing mood. He only scoffed, pushing Viktor toward the barred doorway to the arena with the leash before disengaging the lock on it and slamming the flimsy door shut behind him.

Awesome. Super awesome. In fact, Viktor has never been in a more awesome-r situation before in his life.

He glanced behind him, the thought of ramming the door down always a fleeting one. He could easily do it. The door's been opened so many times, been railed against by angry animals so many times - there was just no way that it could survive a thought-out plan of attack by a human. He could get out of this little cage-between-cages. So easily.

And go where? That was the part that always stilled him. Out there was a stadium full of aliens. Sure, most of them would probably not raise a claw against him, but there were many who would. He would be recaptured easily. And Viktor did not want to see the consequences of that.

He wasn't sure if they would be deadly or not. He didn't want to find out.

He stared out at the arena dispassionately. It wasn't uncommon for Viktor to be put in the holding cell, but it was often him wandering the arena as he waited for his opponent, not the other way around.

His opponent this time was another one of the snake creatures. It must have been a new one. Probably because Viktor had accidentally killed the last one he had fought - it was going straight for his face and managed, not only shoving its forearm into his mouth but shoving its entire body against his jaw so that he bit down on it; it had succumbed to its injuries before the vet could even get a look at it. Viktor twitched at the remembrance of the ringmaster's fury.

The creature prowled along the sandy waste, snuffling and inspecting every bit of the oblong arena. Viktor leaned against the wall, settling in for a wait. They always let the new creatures inspect their surroundings before giving them off to Viktor. Every time, it took a while.

They never even really knew how to fight, either. Sure, they defended themselves, but they were never trained for it, like the humans, Oorah, or those deer creatures. The fights were always easy, though, which was one consolation.

But they were boring. And bored customers meant an unhappy ringmaster.

And he didn't even know if he was supposed to lose or not. Probably not, though - most bait animals were thrown in to get Viktor ready for a grueling few days.

He tried not to remember that, once upon a time, he had been the bait animal. It had only been through luck that the crowd had enjoyed his moves so much that they would have rioted should Viktor go down to the jaws of Oorah.

He's not fought the former champion too many times since then. However, whenever he did get to fight the dog creature, it always ended up in a lot of wounds for him. A hard-won victory, sure, but he ached for weeks after.

The gate opening shook him out of his thoughts, and he wasted no time stepping in. The sand sucked his feet in, cold and coarse. The snake creature whipped its head toward him, bunching up its body defensively.

"Hello," he said conversationally, stalking toward it. He didn't feel regret as often as he did when he had first started, but he always felt a bit bad for the new animals. They didn't know. Call it selfish, but he always made them attack first, just so he could live with the guilt. "You look different from the others."

The snake hissed at him warningly, revealing sharp fangs. Unlike the others who had two, this one had four fangs. Its mouth was a vivid green, throwing its yellow sludgy venom into sharp contrast. It was a bit bigger than the others of its kind he's fought. Its six legs were meatier, coiled under its body and waiting to pounce. Its tail was a bit longer but thinner than the ones he's seen.

Viktor stepped closer, baring his teeth. As expected, the snake creature became even more hostile but it still wouldn't attack, shuffling backward until it hit the wall.

Ugh, he thought disparagingly. The crowd was murmuring unhappily behind him. Now he had to attack first.

He lunged forward, surprised that the snake skittered out of reach. Viktor pivoted on the sand, managing to wrap his fingers around its tail. He quickly adjusted his grip, yanking the creature backward.

Its claws dug uselessly in the sand, hissing and screeching what were no doubt snake swears.

He wondered, idly, what a snake would use as a swear, as he used every bit of strength he had in him to throw the snake over his head and onto the sand behind him. It stilled for a moment, dazed. The crowd roared. Sssshit?

Viktor pressed his foot against the snake's back, pinning it to the ground. It writhed and shrieked, which only served to heighten the crowd's excitement.

He paused when he heard the ringmaster's voice over the loudspeakers, but he couldn't pick out any words that he knew, so he figured the alien was just giving commentary. He reached down, digging his fingers into the snake's mouth.

It was slimy and unpleasant but proving that this creature's venom didn't harm him always seemed to rile up the crowd even more. Today was no exception.

He kept its mouth wrenched open, switching out his foot for his knee. Its many legs were scrabbling for purchase, scratching him when they landed. A particularly nasty gash on his other leg made him lose his grip on the snake's mouth.

The creature promptly turned around and started biting his arms. Even though the venom didn't work, its many teeth hurt, and Viktor reeled backward. He grabbed a fistful of sand, spraying it in the creature's open mouth. It wailed, swiping at its mouth to get the sand out.

Viktor took that time to take a few steps back, catching his breath. There were no shocks to his system, so he assumed that the ringmaster wanted him to -

He fell to his knees as something collided with his back. Sharp claws dug into his back as hissing fill his ears. He elbowed whatever creature was on him in the sternum, kicking it off him with difficulty. He whirled around to see another snake creature in the pit, and this one was trained to fight.

What the hell? It was never two on one! He glanced nervously at the ringmaster, but the alien looked pleased, like he had wanted this to happen.

Okay, Viktor, he tried to hype himself up. It's just a pair of snake creatures. And one of them is cowering and not really a threat right now. Just... subdue the second one.

He had just lunged at the second one, intent on thumping it into unconsciousness as quickly as he could when the first one snapped its jaws at his feet. He wrenched his foot free, yelping as its teeth scraped against his Achilles tendon painfully, and kicked it in the head.

It whimpered and skittered backward for a moment before snapping at him again. This time, it missed, but only because the second snake creature collided straight with his chest and knocked him flat on his ass.

He swung his fist at the one on top of him, knuckles connecting solidly with his neck. It let out a strangled, pained yip but didn't let him go. He kept wailing on it, frantically trying to suppress the panic of experiencing something new.

Since the second one was trained, it knew that Viktor was a threat - it knew that it needed to take him out of the picture. And he was pretty certain that the first one just had a grudge against him, now, if the sharp pain of its fangs digging deep into his arm was anything to go by.

He screamed at the pair, thrashing wildly. He finally felt one of the snake's legs slip off of him, and he quickly used that to his advantage. Tearing his arm out of the first snake's grip - and God, it hurt - he grasped the creature's leg by the joint, using adrenaline-fueled strength to pry the creature off him.

He shoved the second snake into the first, getting to his feet in the interim. He kicked sand at them before turning tail and jumping onto the first obstacle in the arena. It was a branch that looked older than Viktor, rotted and flimsy. Still, it held his weight and that's all he wanted.

The snake creatures were terrible climbers. Which was fortunate for Viktor. He supposed that it was due to all of the legs - probably didn't make for a coordinated attempt of clambering up vertically. What a relief.

A warning shock fizzled through his collar and down his bones. It made him stutter in his climb, but it wasn't painful, mercifully. His whole body was throbbing with the snake's sloppily coordinated attacks. He ran down the length of the log before jumping to the ground, trying to think.

He needed to take out the second snake creature first since it was the deadlier of the two. But the first snake was pissed off and likely to go barreling after him no matter what. The second one was less likely to do that - trained as well as him - it'd likely wait for an opening. An opening that the first creature would give it as soon as it attacked.

Viktor suppressed the urge to start screaming in frustration. He didn't have time to do that, anyway. The first snake creature was rushing at him, feral fury in its eyes. Its movements were broadcasted for everyone to see, so Viktor wasn't surprised when it bunched up its legs and jumped at his face.

Viktor grabbed it by the throat, slamming it down on the sand. It yelped and writhed, so Viktor squeezed its throat harder.

Just stop breathing, he thought pleadingly, eyes flicking toward the other animal, who was slowly stalking toward him. Green sludge was dripping out of its jaws. "Stop breathing!" he shouted. The crowd howled in reply.

The snake under him squirmed, scratching his arms with its legs and hissing loudly. Viktor saw the other bunch up its legs, and in a fit of genius, he lifted the other in front of him with effort, arms straining.

The three went down in a flurry of limbs, fangs, and screams. The second snake creature bit into the first, and Viktor watched with sick fascination as it started howling in pain. The venom was dissolving the creature right in front of his eyes! He didn't know it could do that!

No wonder the aliens were always so impressed they were immune.

The first creature incapacitated, Viktor was left with no distractions in taking out the second. They fought, mere inches from the writhing, dying bait animal. The creature scratched and bit him relentlessly, spilling even more of his blood onto the floor.

Thinking this fight has gone on long enough, Viktor opened his mouth and lunged for the snake's throat. As soon as his teeth sunk into its tough hide, painful shocks erupted from his collar, making his muscles seize.

Too late, he thought through tears, feeling his muscles clench his jaws even tighter.

The animal bellowed in agony, thrashing to get away. Its venomous sludge was dripping onto Viktor's face, leaking into his eyes and mouth. He felt queasy but held on nonetheless. It was either him or the animal, and Viktor hadn't gotten this far in the fight to give up now by something as superficial as disgust.

His collar stopped shocking him, and he pulled away, pushing the creature onto the floor. Death throes were not something he saw too often - the ringmaster hated when he killed his product - and they never got easier to see.

He chanced a glance at the master of the arena, wary of what he would see. The crowd was thumping and caterwauling in joyful glee, so at least there was that going for him. But he had also killed two of the venomous creatures.

And, Viktor thought as he looked at the melted skin of the first creature, considering how lethal they seemed to be, they probably weren't too easy to come by.

The ringmaster's expression was perfectly blank, which only made Viktor more nervous.

He got to his feet unsteadily, throwing up his arms and shouting wordlessly at the crowd. They loved that part.

Venom pooled in his mouth, curdling and tasting like blood.

Viktor was struck with an idea.

He hurried to the exit before they could shock him again, keeping his mouth firmly shut. The leash was snapped in place, and Viktor was half-dragged, half-yanked back to the warehouse. As expected, instead of being ushered back into his cell, Viktor was kept out. He resisted the urge to collapse onto the floor. He was really tired.

The others' questions buzzed against his ears, inaudible. He slowly took stock of his injuries. A bunch of scratches and puncture wounds on his arms. There was a nasty slice down his leg that hurt whenever he put pressure on it. He was dripping blood somewhere - he could feel it sliding down his neck, stomach, and leg, a welcomed warmth against the cool temperature of the warehouse.

He was dragged out of his post-battle fog when the door cracked open. He flinched, already slumping to the floor. The ringmaster thundered over to him, speaking briskly to the aliens holding his leash. Viktor was jostled for a moment as they unclasped it from his collar, and barely had time to brace himself before the ringmaster used it to haul him off the ground.

He dangled in front of the alien like a kitten, trying to breathe through his nose as the collar dug uncomfortably into his neck. His mouth was still full of venom.

He wasn't surprised when the ringmaster started shouting in his face, shaking him to emphasize his fury. Viktor's limbs shook, though he wasn't sure if it was from fear, exertion, or the alien himself. Probably a bit of everything.

"Kora, Kohgrash, ta ka sh kora!" The words made him flinch, and he had to consciously work on keeping his mouth shut as the ringmaster's other hand slapped him across the head. His vision swam.

The ringmaster muttered something else under his breath, glaring at Viktor with irritation. Viktor glared right back, which wasn't really a smart move, considering how it only incensed the alien further.

But Viktor was done with being tossed around like a ragdoll, done being treated like nothing more than an object for him to vent his frustrations on, done being Kohgrash.

So, in one swift decision, he decided to put an end to it. He took a deep breath, and as soon as the ringmaster put his face in his to shout at him some more, Viktor spat the venom he carried in his mouth right on his ugly, fucking face.

The scream that tore its way out of the ringmaster's throat was like nothing he's heard before.

He dropped to the floor in a heap as the ringmaster let go of him to clutch at his face. He screamed and shouted, clawing at his face as the venom disintegrated his skin. Viktor watched in sadistic horror as his skin fell off in clumps, revealing muscle, tissue, and eventually bone.

The other aliens shouted and yelled, a few fleeing the warehouse while others ran to grab the ringmaster before he could fall to the floor.

The other humans were shouting, but Viktor could only hear the ringmaster's tormented screams. He felt so ridiculously vindictive.

The ringmaster's scream started to die and splutter, choked by his blood as the alien started to cough and heave. The venom sunk into his muscles, branching out with black, spindly arms into the alien's veins. The two aliens holding onto the ringmaster weren't strong enough when the alien went down with a thump.

His lifeless eyes stared at Viktor. Empty.

A silence so heavy Viktor could feel it descended onto the warehouse before all hell broke loose.

"Get the hell out of here, kid!" Pedro screamed, quickly joined in by the others. Viktor's legs were moving before his mind could consciously come up with a decision. He bolted past the two aliens, who barely made an attempt to swipe at him.

The warehouse doors were still open, and Viktor slipped through them easily. Heart pounding in his chest, he ran toward the closest exit he could find. There were still throngs of aliens mulling about the arena, and he took their presence to his advantage. They shouted in alarm as he pushed through their legs - some in pain as the remnants of the snake creature's venom on his hands and clothes brushed against them.

By some sort of miracle, he didn't come across any of the arena's staff until he was at the exit.

"Kohgrash!" he heard Lilac's voice shout behind him. He looked over his shoulder, eyes wide and crazed.

"Go away!" he shouted hoarsely, slamming into the door with all his might. Someone on the other side opened it, and he shouted, getting them to back up in fright. He scrambled past them, hyperaware of the hulking steps of several aliens behind them.

His shock collar remote was likely with the ringmaster. Hopefully, no one grew enough brain cells to realize that. Otherwise, he was toast.

He tripped over his feet in his haste to get away, looking around frantically. He saw familiar barrels filled with gray slop pushed against the wall, and he quickly dove behind them. He scrunched himself into as tight a ball as he could imagine, breathing harshly through his nose.

His luck must not be out yet - the aliens chasing him ran right past him. Though, he didn't see any sign of Lilac. She must have gone to the warehouse. With the ringmaster.

Who was dead, he gleefully reminded himself. Dead! DeaddeaddeaddeadDEAD!

But he wasn't out of the woods yet.

The sun slowly started to set. Viktor's wounds slowly started to clot. He was tired and aching, but if he slept, there'd be no telling where he'd wake up. He was completely on his own, now.

The thought sent a thrill of panic down his spine. When it got dark and the aliens left for the night, he'd... try his hand at talking with the others. There were small windows in the warehouse - surely, he could climb up to one of them and shout through it? He didn't know what else to do.

The arena was all he knew. And now, the ringmaster was dead. Even though the thought set off warm fuzzies in his stomach, Viktor was apprehensive about what his future held.

The sun had set beneath the horizon, and cold darkness settled onto the planet instead. He hasn't heard any sort of rustling in the building, aside from the faint yelping and hooting of the other animals, so he tried his luck at standing up.

He immediately collapsed against the barrels as pain raced through his legs. "Ouch, ouch, ouch," he whispered, nearly keening in pain. He panted through the pain, groaning into the red wooden barrel.

Once the worst of it had passed, he straightened up, ignoring the pain as best as he could. He wasn't very successful. His fingers dug into the lip of the barrels, which were almost as tall as he was.

The lid scooted at his fingertips, and his stomach growled hungrily. He'd be a fool not to eat what he could, especially since... well, since he wouldn't be having regular access to meals anymore. Because there was just no way he was going to go back in that cage.

Heaving himself up onto the barrel was possibly one of the hardest things he's done in his life, but he was rewarded with the stomach-turning sight of gray slop.

"I hate you," he groaned but dipped his cupped hand into the barrel and began eating his fill. Stale bread.

He felt better with some food in his stomach. He crept out from behind the safety of the barrels and carefully began searching for the windows.

It was easier than he thought - the sounds of the animals were like a beacon to him - and he found a low-lying window. Shattering the glass was harder than he thought, though. The glass was bulletproof or something! Still, nothing could withstand his sheer force of will and the large rock he found nearby.

"Hey!" he whispered loudly. "Guys? Can you hear me?"

"Viktor!" Pedro shouted. Viktor could only see the deer creatures from the window he had chosen, and they snuffed and pawed the ground of their cells at the sight of him, uneasy. "Viktor, oh my God, are you alright? Hey, Aiko, wake up the others."

"Yeah- yeah, I'm fine, just beaten up from the fight," he replied, giving his surroundings another glance before he carefully shoved his head through the broken window. He wouldn't be able to fit - for one, his shoulders were surprisingly too broad to fit in the window he had chosen, and for two, he didn't want to go back in - but he could hear a lot better like this. "Is- he dead?"

"Yes!" Ezekiel shouted. Viktor could easily imagine him jumping up and down in celebration. "You fuckin' killed him, kid! Good job!"

Viktor grinned. He thought he'd feel some regret by now, but there was nothing but cold satisfaction running through his veins. "Good, that's... that's really good. Are you guys okay? They didn't come after you?"

"No, Viktor - don't worry about us, seriously. You've gotta get out of here." Pedro's voice was stern, but Viktor could hear the underlying threads of panic.

"Don't worry, Pedro, no one's out here. I made sure."

"They're probably looking for you," Aiko spoke up. For some reason, her voice made tears spring to his eyes. Would he see them again? "You gotta get far from here."

"I-" he started, choking up. "I don't know where to go."

"Choose a direction and start walking, Vik," Pedro said assuredly. "Just keep walking - don't worry about us. We'll be fine."

"I'll come back for you," he started to promise. "I'll-"

"No, you will not," Nikolas said sternly. "You will never come back here, Viktor. If the opportunity arises that they can catch you, they will take it. You must never come back here. They will kill you."

Fear leaped into his throat. "Won't they kill you guys?!"

Ezekiel said, "No way, kid. They've just lost their biggest source of income. They're going to want the new species to pick up the slack. I don't know how their little alien hierarchy works around here, but they're going to be hurting for a while. Getting some more money won't hurt. They'll run us ragged, but they won't kill us."

But how could Ezekiel be so sure? Before he could protest, Pedro spoke up again. "Vik, you need to leave. Right now! Get as far away from here as you possibly can. Find shelter, find food, and stay warm. You'll be okay. You're a smart kid."

Viktor sniffed wetly. He didn't know if he could do this. Surviving the arena was one thing - all he really had to do was kick ass until the ringmaster blew the whistle - but surviving in the wild? He didn't know how to do that. "I don't know..."

"You do know," Pedro snapped. Viktor frowned. "Go, kid. Seriously. If they find you, they'll kill you."

Frustrated tears started leaking out of his eyes. "Fine!" he shouted. "Let's just ask the kid to go fuck off and leave his friends to die!"

But Viktor, deep down, knew they were right. If there was any chance that he would survive another day, it wasn't by waiting around the arena. The aliens would snatch him up and put him down like an animal. But he didn't want to leave his friends behind. He didn't want to be alone.

"I know you're scared," Aiko said, and Viktor started to protest. He wasn't scared- that was ridiculous! "It's okay, Viktor, I'd be scared, too. But you can do this, okay? I believe in you."

Belief won't get me nowhere, he wanted to say. But he had to suck it up. He needed to leave.

After a moment's struggle, he opened his mouth and said, "Okay. I'll go. I'll-" He'll what? Find help? Prove his species' sentience to some random alien so that they could come to rescue his friends? No, like that'd ever happen. "I'll-"

"You'll go somewhere very far from here and live," Pedro told him. "The rest will come later."

Viktor nodded jerkily before remembering they probably couldn't see him either. "Okay. I'll... see you guys later, okay?"

"You just get out of here, kid. We love you," was the response. Viktor worried his lip for a second before he pulled his head out of the window. He gave one last glance at the prison he's been trapped in for years before he turned around and started running.

He didn't get very far before he had to slow his gait from a staggered sprint to a labored jog. His everything hurt. He needed sleep.

He allowed himself to look over his shoulder just once. To see the looming, square building that housed him and his friends. To see what was his unwilling home for the past two years. He stared at it for one, long second before he looked forward.

He started walking.

The ground hurt his feet. Rocks and sticks and leaves dug into the threadbare bottoms of his socks, tearing the already hole-ridden garments further. The road he followed was curvy and barren - there was hardly any life aside from the sparse grass and occasional tree - but Viktor adored it. This was more than he's ever seen since getting abducted. It's always been the same four walls, the same sandy pit, the same animals.

But this, this was new, and Viktor reveled in it.

He drank up the sights and sounds greedily. There were bird noises like nothing he's ever heard before, squawking and hooting. The faint rumble of cars grew louder as he ventured further into the city limits. There was the faintest of breezes that brought a cold chill to his bones, swiftly reminding him that it was turning to winter.

But his sightseeing was brought to an abrupt halt as he heard the rumble of several cars heading his way. Heart in his throat, Viktor dove behind the closest thing he could get behind. It was a twiggy shrub, barely taller than him when he crouched. Viktor counted himself lucky that his outfit was dark. He blended right in.

Still, he held himself stiffly, barely daring to breathe, as the cars whizzed past. He was certain they weren't with the arena - they had just closed, after all - but he was sure that a human on the side of the road would get some unwanted attention.

The danger soon passed, and Viktor scurried along the ditch of the road - not that it was much of one. The roads were flat, marked up with designs and signals that he couldn't hope to decipher. There was barely-there shrubbery on the side of the road, and Viktor stuck to it like a lifeline, ducking behind it whenever a stray car would go by.

He didn't seem to be on the edges of whatever city he was in, but the arena hadn't been in the heart of it. The clamorous night life of the city only grew as Viktor ventured forward, and after chancing an encounter with a car where he remained upright and the car breezed past him without slowing, he grew bolder.

By the time he reached the suburbs of the alien city, he felt pretty confident. Even if humans were a hot commodity in the arena, it didn't seem to be an uncommon sight in the real world, so that was a plus.

Viktor was alone, but living on the streets wouldn't be too hard if he could blend in, right?

God, he didn't want to think about the long term.

"Short-term plan first," he muttered to himself. His feet ached and some of his wounds were itchy. "Find a place to sleep that won't be immediately ambushed by aliens." Easy enough, right?

He looked around skeptically. It was still firmly nighttime, so there weren't any aliens milling about. He did see the occasional one walking down the street, but he gave them an extremely wide berth. They didn't look in his direction, which was a relief.

He stuck to the buildings. They weren't as oddly shaped as he expected them to be, though they were about twice the size he was used to. Blockish, square buildings were just as common as open-domed ones, and the street lights gave off just enough light to see that they were also pretty bland in color. There were one or two that were brightly colored, but they usually stuck to gray, black, or brown.

The wind was less biting the further he walked into the city, but he was still freezing. His clothes were damp with his blood - fresh and old - and ripped to shreds, so Viktor couldn't really expect much warmth from them. They usually depended on the scratchy straw and flimsy heating pad to keep them warm. The warehouse hadn't had central heating, but it had kept the elements out.

Okay, Viktor worried his lip between his teeth, glancing around the corner of a building. Should he find an abandoned building and sleep in there? He didn't know if he'd find anything like that here - there didn't seem to be any hint of the more less-than-acceptable parts of society.

Just as Viktor was considering ducking into an alley and trying to find a safe spot to sleep there, someone called out, "Ro!"

Freezing at the loud shout, Viktor quickly dropped into a half-crouch, locating the source of the shout. The alien was large and extremely menacing in the dark. They were across the street, and Viktor tried to convince himself that they were just yelling randomly into the night, when they said "Kohgrash!"

"Fuck!" he yelped, taking off in the opposite direction as they started crossing the road to get to him. "Fuckfuckfuck!"

He needed to get the hell away from the arena! Fuck sleeping!

He ran through the streets and buildings like a man possessed. He didn't even know he could go that fast until he realized the high-pitched noise he heard was the wind whistling in his ears. Viktor lost the alien quickly, but even though he couldn't see it coming after him, he still ran. What if they had a remote? They could easily take him out with one shock to his collar.

He only stopped when his legs kept falling out from underneath him, and on a particularly hard crash to the coarse sidewalk, he didn't get up right away. He struggled to catch his breath, ragged and uneven, and it occured to him, in the middle of an alien street on an alien planet far away from anyone that he knew, that he was having a panic attack.

Hands trembling, he dug his fingers viciously into his collar, into the soft flesh of his skin underneath it, and viciously tugged at it. The metal tore at his skin where it had fused with the prongs, sending rivulets of warm blood down into his shirt.

"Fuck you," he gasped, tears streaking down his face. "Get off me!"

But the metal was unyielding, and even opening the clasp gave him no answers. Not that he expected it to do. They had wired the damn thing so that opening it would give a nasty shock. Unsurprisingly, the shock was what pulled him out of his fit. Hands on his knees, Viktor sucked in lungfuls of air, trying to calm down.

He couldn't do this. He was way out of his depth.

Don't be stupid, something that sounded like Pedro told him. He was Kohgrash, the prized animal of the arena.

He pressed the heels of his hands to his burning, aching eyes for a brief moment before getting to his feet. No matter his feelings about the matter, he knew that he had to get as far away from the arena and its possible customers as fast as he possibly could. Even if it meant forgoing sleep for a little while.

And so, he walked.

He walked further into the city, only getting waylaid by large stretches of road he didn't dare cross and the occasional, simple water fountain that looked like it was made for animals considering how low to the ground it was. He walked until his legs shook with the effort, but the fear of being caught and shoved back into the cages at the arena shook him even more, so he continued putting one foot in front of the other.

Business buildings slowly filtered into residential buildings, houses, and apartments that looked strange yet so familiar. He had to be more careful in these areas, head on a constant swivel for aliens. He didn't know exactly how popular the arena was, but he'd been there for two years and had to fight nearly every day. He could only assume that it was popular and that everyone was out to get him. It'd keep him safer.

He walked until the city started thinning, stretches of sandy wastes littered between buildings before he came, quite suddenly, to the edges of it.

The faint glow of a nearby city told him that there was a civilization on the horizon, but he wasn't sure quite how far. There was a road that connected this city and the next, but other than that, it was simply a barren wasteland. Definitely not the kind of place Viktor wanted to go out into without being a bit more prepared.

Like what, he thought sardonically to himself. This was as prepared as he was going to get. The sun was beginning to rise - and wasn't that something to marvel at; a sunrise from the actual ground and not just slats of a window - and the city was going to wake up soon. Which meant the arena's aliens were going to get their shit together after he killed the ringmaster and either send out aliens to kill him or take him back to the arena.

And Viktor was not going to let them do either, thanks.

But Viktor needed sleep, food, and water. He didn't know how hot it was going to get, but he knew that deserts and sun didn't make for a tropical wonderland. He glanced over his shoulder, stepping in place nervously.

If he went out into the desert, he'd surely die, but if he stuck to the roads, he wouldn't get lost. Viktor wasn't opposed to the theoretical idea of scrounging for food, and litter had to be common here, didn't it?

He did get a pretty good drink of water earlier, but he was already feeling a bit parched from all the walking he's had to do. He was reluctant to turn back into the city, the back of his neck itching something fierce. The farther away he got from the arena, the better.

It was either dying with freedom or dying in a cage, Viktor realized, and he already knew which one he was going to choose.

Walking alongside the road wasn't the most terrible thing he's ever done. As the sun rose, so did commuters, and while there weren't nearly as many cars as he expected there'd be - and they all seemed to be going toward the same city he was rather than the other way around - there were still more than he was comfortable with.

Unfortunately, there was absolutely nothing to hide behind in the desert, so every time a car started approaching, he'd duck as low to the ground and hope to every god in the universe that no one would stop and investigate a random human trekking through the sand.

The sand sucked at his feet and reminded him uncomfortably of the arena. It didn't help that every time he heard the rumble of a hovering car - and Viktor would never get used to those, he thought - a spike of adrenaline would shoot through him, sinking him further into the arena's close clutches. His only mercy was that no other animal seemed crazy enough to brave the wastes between cities, so while he was incredibly close to freaking out, nothing really set him over the edge.

It was a long, boring walk.

He tugged anxiously at his collar, wishing that he could pry it off. He didn't think he'd ever truly relax until that thing was off him and he was miles away from the arena.

The city behind him was getting smaller with every step, and the sun was hanging high in the sky when he stepped foot in the next city.

Dear god, Viktor thought, blinking at the sheer size of it.

If he thought the city behind him was big, then this one was a metropolis. 'Course, standing on the edge of it was one thing, but considering the road he had followed had slowly widened into a large highway (with many more places to hide, thankfully), he could assume that this one was going to be much bigger.

Bigger cities meant more aliens, but it meant more chances to blend in. Surely, he wasn't the only wild human on the planet? Maybe he could find some people.

Throat burning with hope, he scurried quickly into the depths of it, grateful to be out of the sun. He found the closest water fountain he could - the water tasted like shit and he sincerely hoped that he wouldn't get sick later on - and drank his fill. Was there some sort of water shortage on this planet or something? Now that he thought about it - did he ever really see the other animals in the arena drink? Apart from the snake creatures, there weren't troughs in the other cages.

Not that he really looked. Seeing them in the arena was enough for him.

Shaking away the thoughts of the arena, Viktor suddenly realized that he was really tired. Adrenaline still hummed under his skin, but every step made his feet scrape against the ground painfully, sluggish with exhaustion. Hiking across a desert for half the day sapped the energy out of him. Who knew?

He walked away from the highway, quickly finding himself in a business district. Or something similar, he assumed. There were a lot of aliens milling around, which made Viktor extremely nervous. He stuck to the backs of the buildings as much as he could, but he still stumbled across some.

"Ohhh," one alien cooed once it caught sight of him. It crouched down, extending its hand and gesturing for Viktor to come here. Its partner looked intrigued, but long-suffering as if it's done this before many, many times. "Pora, cho'k."

"Go touch a live wire, you freak," he snarled, baring his teeth. The alien was taken aback by his aggression and quickly carried on, shooting wary looks back at him. Viktor watched them go cautiously.

Other aliens glanced at him, some observed him long enough to make his skin crawl, and on one memorable occasion, someone actually said his name.

"Kohgrash!" it shouted in confused excitement. Viktor didn't even glance at them - he was already sprinting down the back alleys of the buildings. He didn't stop until the stitch in his side was unbearable.

"Fuck," he panted, gasping in great, heaving breaths with little success. "Fuck!"

He needed to get somewhere safe. Somewhere secluded. The woods? Were there woods on this planet? Shit, he didn't even know what could grow here. So far, he's seen nothing but shrubbery bushes and a few scraggly trees. Deeper into the city would be his best bet - maybe there'd be some sort of nature reserve or park he could camp at - but deeper into the city meant deeper into the thick of it. More aliens meant more trouble. More recognition.

Maybe trekking further into the city would be better at night, he thought, peering into the crowded streets of the city. There were aliens galore, walking with families and dog-like creatures. Some had bags, others had nothing, but every one of them made him anxious. Like they'd recognize him on sight and capture him.

He needed sleep desperately, something his body was reminding him of rather fiercely. His eyes drooped whenever he stalled for a moment, and his adrenaline started to rush out of him. Viktor looked at the alley he was in. It smelled pretty bad, but that could be attested to by the odd containers he figured were alien dumpsters.

Could he sleep here for a few hours undisturbed? It was doubtful, Viktor had the feeling that he wouldn't be able to find peace anywhere in the city until he found somewhere secluded.

But still, he needed to catch some shut-eye.

Which was how he found himself wedged between the back of a building, in front of some vent that gave off the barest amounts of heat, and a smelly dumpster. At least it wasn't oozing.

Despite how hard he shut his eyes, though, he couldn't get to sleep. Every noise made him jump out of his skin. Counting sheep didn't help, and neither did counting backward from one hundred.

Tears of frustration and helplessness pricked behind his eyes, and he took a soldiering breath.

Relax, he told himself, ignoring the sardonic thoughts that crept up behind that one. No one is going to get you.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly when, but by some point, he had dropped off into a light doze that probably didn't even get past the first stage of sleep. He woke to every loud noise and shout in his vicinity but kept dropping back into a fitful sleep. 

Viktor jerked awake on his own accord, heart thundering in his ribcage, confused.

It quickly became apparent that there was something rummaging in the dumpster he had taken shelter behind, and he quickly got to his feet, all traces of weariness gone as adrenaline flooded his system. He carefully crept out from between the dumpster and wall, already missing the weak warmth spewing from the building.

Snuffling and grunting greeted him, and a peek into the dumpster revealed a small, gray rodent. Well, Viktor assumed it was a rodent. An alien-rodent, at least.

It had claws almost as long as his fingers, and ears as big as an elephant's. Its nose was elongated, twitching to and fro as it hunted for food. It was probably as big as a house cat.

Freaky rat, Viktor thought to himself, walking away from the occupied dumpster. He didn't want to get into a fight with a rat, even if it was more likely that it just would run away.

It wasn't quite night, yet, but the sun was setting, and Viktor didn't want to find some other dumpster to sleep near. He made his way deeper into the city, thankful that this planet didn't seem to have much in the way of nightlife. Still, he had to dodge and avoid some aliens. It couldn't be that easy.

"Hey!" a voice shouted just as he was attempting to cross the street between two towering buildings that looked like they were department stores. He froze before he realized that the voice had spoken English. He turned to locate the voice curiously, finding it belonging to a man in his late forties, accompanied by a red alien.

"Hello," he said warily, keeping an eye on the alien as the human approached. His hair was wild but well-groomed, obviously having access to a brush. His clothes were in much better shape than Viktor's and looked more suited to the cold weather than his. He was suddenly very jealous.

"What are you doing out here so late?" the man questioned, a look of concern on his face.

"What's it to you?" he sniped back, taking a few steps away as the red alien seemed to notice the man's absence by its side. It walked toward them, saying a few words that Viktor couldn't understand.

"Where's your alien at?" the man asked instead, ignoring his question. He made a show of looking around. "You lost, kid?"

Now, Viktor was confused. "Why the fuck would I have an alien?"

The man stared at him, "'Cause that's how things are 'round here? The whole pet thing?"

Pets? What the fuck? "Huh?" he asked eloquently.

The alien behind the man dropped into a crouch, and Viktor took another couple of steps back, bending his knees slightly. "Rohsh, cho'k," it cooed at him, holding out its hand just like the other alien hand.

"Hey, we can help you get back home," the man offered encouragingly, seemingly putting his confusion on the back burner. "Did you run away or something? That collar doesn't look friendly-"

"No," he said quickly, fear choking him. This alien and its, its pet could easily send him back to the arena. He needed to get away. "No, I did not!"

The man put up his hands in a soothing gesture, but Viktor was already through the motions of turning around and running in the opposite direction. "Hey, kid! Wait!" was what he heard, but Viktor didn't stick around to find out what else he had to say.

His mind ran faster than his legs could carry him. Humans as pets? Was that what they were? He knew that they were seen as nothing more than animals - his time in the arena could attest to that - but who could ever just lay down and get treated as a pet?

Some small insignificant part of him said that it would have been much better than the arena. An even smaller part of him agreed.

Maybe he could use this. As soon as he got far enough away from the pair, he slowed his frantic sprint to a jog, ignoring the stitch in his side and the growing sensation of hunger in his gut. If these aliens saw them as beloved pets rather than just animals, he could use it to his advantage. After all, people fed stray cats and dogs all the time, but they never fed raccoons or possums.

A sharp breeze, fainter than any he's ever felt on Earth but still just as cold, wracked his body as the sun's heat slowly leeched out of the planet. First things first, he thought as he wrapped his arms around himself. He needed to find a place to stay.

This city's night life was a bit more prominent than the last city's. It was both harder and easier to avoid aliens. Harder, because there were simply so many of them. Easier, because he was pretty small and stuck to the shadows. He managed - finally - to get out of the business district, watching with some sort of fascination as the bigger buildings tapered off into small, blocky residential ones. These were harder to traverse, simply because of the animals.

The first time he walked by a fence and a dog-like creature slammed its body against it, growling and snapping at him, Viktor screamed in fright. His fist had connected with the sturdy fence before he realized it, and he could only hope he hadn't broken any knuckles, cradling his smarting hand close to his chest.

He avoided the houses with fences, but that only worked until he passed through the backyard of one particular house and another dog creature barreled out of the house, shrieking at him. Mercifully, he didn't have to fight it for too long - as soon as he got one nasty blow to its head, it turned tail and ran back into the house. Viktor didn't stick around to see if its aliens would enact revenge.

He was loathe to walk in front of the houses, but if he saw another dog coming at him, he'd probably kill it, and despite hating everything about these aliens, he understood what it was like losing a pet. So, in front of the houses he walked.

Everyone seemed to be sleeping. Well, he thought as he eyed the lit houses suspiciously, as if several aliens were about to come bursting out of the door to throw him back into the arena. Mostly sleeping.

It was rare that he passed an alien on the street, but it did happen. They eyed him curiously as he crouched behind some bushes or even crossed the street to avoid them, but they probably thought he was someone's pet. The thought made his lip curl in disgust.

The trees started to grow from scraggly, barely-there wisps of sticks and leaves into larger, long-lived pillars. They started getting thicker and thicker, and eventually, after hours and hours of walking, Viktor finally found somewhere that could be a decent place to live. For now, at least.

The park he was in was huge. By the time the sun came up again, Viktor hadn't managed to get to the end of it. Of course, it didn't really help that he was sidelined by a whole bunch of things in his attempt to survey the land. Like the fact that he found a tree.

It wasn't any old tree, though. This tree had fruit!

And Viktor, who was practically starving by now, had gorged himself on the spiky, sugary apple-like bounty. He sincerely hoped it wasn't poisonous, but by the time the thought had crossed his mind, he had already been three fruits deep into his feast.

They were fucking delicious. All he's had to eat for years was the slop the arena gave them, and it wasn't the most nutritious thing in the world. He could count every single one of his ribs. This fruit was the best thing he's ever fucking tasted. Viktor could admit that he had shed a tear when he had bit into the apple.

Leaving the tree made him reluctant, but he grabbed a few fruits to keep with him, shoving them in his threadbare hoodie pocket. The sun was peaking through the trees, and with it, aliens came out of the woodwork.

Viktor quickly climbed a tree, watching the proceedings beneath him with skepticism. This was a park, of course there'd be aliens. There didn't seem to be too many areas in this park where the woods were thick enough to avoid the aliens completely. He worried his lip, trying to think.

But he was full, tired, and in a relatively safe spot. The noises of nearby aliens didn't even bother him as much as they should have. It shouldn't have been a surprise to him when he fell asleep, ensconced in the branches of a tree.

"Hey! Hey!" someone was shouting at him. Viktor groaned, throwing his arm over his eyes.

"Not now, Pedro," he grumbled, trying to get comfortable on the uncharacteristically hard straw. "I'm tired."

"Kid, are you okay up there?"

Up there? What the hell was he talking about-?

Viktor opened his eyes to leaves and a piercing headache. He startled but managed to keep himself firmly in the branches, though it was a close thing. He peered over the edge, looking down at the human who had decided to wake him up. She was small - though, it could've been due to the fact that he was super high up in this tree - and looking up at him with no small amount of concern.

Jeez, did he really look so bad that people could spot him in a tree and be concerned? He wasn't some sort of helpless kid, he could take care of himself!

"What do you want?" he said suspiciously, looking around. There were fewer aliens around the park than there had been this morning, and he was surprised to see the sun setting. He had slept all day! His sleeping schedule was fucked up.

There didn't seem to be a particular alien hanging about the woman, though. Maybe she didn't have one? Viktor was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that they were considered pets, though.

"Oh, good, you're awake. I thought you were gonna roll over and fall outta there!" she laughed, propping her hands on her hips. "Are you stuck?"

Viktor sneered at her despite knowing it was rude. She was only trying to be polite. But Viktor was fed up with being nice. "Does it look like I'm stuck, lady?"

"Woke up on the wrong side of the tree, huh?" was the response. He immediately felt bad, but his irritation was still lingering.

"I don't need help from you or those fucking aliens," he shouted, prying up a piece of bark and clenching his fist around it. If need be, he wasn't above chucking bark at people.

"Yeah, I figured. Haven't seen too many kids around here. Most people have an alien, though, so it's rarer to see someone without one. Where are you getting your food?" she asked.

Viktor, who had only just figured out his food situation, said vaguely, "Around."

The lady hummed, and Viktor looked around the park again. Oddly, there were some stalls set up, scattered along the clearing in odd patterns. They were beginning to take them down, but Viktor could only assume that there had been some sort of festival that he had slept through entirely.

"Have you been on your own this entire time?" she questioned disbelievingly. Viktor scowled at her.

She must not see the collar hanging heavy around his neck. He brought his shoulders up to his ears in an effort to hide it some more. "More or less," he answered with a non-answer. The lady wasn't too impressed.

But she shrugged and said, "Well, it doesn't matter to me much. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Why, he wanted to ask. Why waste your time on some random kid in a tree?

The lady left with an open invitation to come find her the next day - apparently her alien ran one of the stalls here every few months - but Viktor was already thinking about how he'd be long gone. This park was a venue for festivals and festivals meant aliens and more prying eyes. Sooner or later, someone was going to recognize him and punt him back to the arena.

He'd have to keep a look out for those fruit trees, though. He made sure to burn the type of bark into his mind and even snagged a leaf from it to compare it to other trees. He wasn't sure if the trees went dormant in whatever passed as winter - he sure as hell hoped not, otherwise his venture into freedom would be a short one - but it seemed that they were still fruiting, so he held out hope.

Hope, he scoffed, something bitter burning in his throat as he clambered down the tree to flee the park. Hope was useless. He'd learned that a long time ago.

He walked further into the city, into the residential district, not hoping for another park where he could lie low with a bunch of fruit trees. Viktor had no room for hope.

But even his limited store of such was depleting with every block he passed with no other sign of sprawling trees. It began to grow lighter as the sun rose, and he had already exhausted his supply of apple fruits. They were delicious - though, most anything would be delicious after the slop he had been eating for two years and then some - but they weren't particularly filling. He was already hungry.

Viktor didn't retreat to the backyards of these homes as he wanted to. There was no telling which house had what animal, and he didn't want to start the day by attacking some poor animal because he was on a hair trigger. Plus, he's had enough of fighting lately.

Aliens went about their morning routine, taking walks as they pleased. Viktor ducked and weaved through shrubbery and bushes and fences, eyeing them all warily. Eventually, the houses started to thin, adopting larger lots of land in between each building. They seemed empty, which was a relief, but Viktor had no doubt that he'd stumbled upon the rich part of town.

"Rich aliens, huh?" he muttered to himself. Wandering through the streets of this city had made him immensely curious about the world he's found himself in. Considering he's been more focused on his own wellbeing, though, he couldn't really take the time to pry into it. It didn't help that he was suspicious of nearly everyone he came across.

Thoughts of Pedro, Aiko, Nikolas, and Ezekiel burned his mind, eyes, and throat. He missed them, so much.

"Don't think about them," he told himself loudly, trying to drown out his thoughts. If he didn't think about how his friends were by themselves, fighting for their lives in the ring, enjoying each other's company despite that -

Okay, stop thinking.

Focusing more on his surroundings than he had before, Viktor managed to figure out that if he kept to the shrubs in between lots, he avoided most, if not all of the aliens that passed. Curiously, though, there seemed to be a lot of traffic going one way, hover cars whizzing past slowly and languidly.

Somewhere to avoid, he thought cautiously, even though he still continued in that direction. The other options were crawling into someone's backyard and probably getting shot. Actually, he didn't even know if these aliens needed weapons. Their teeth and claws seemed to be enough for them.

Jesus, he must be beyond bored if he was thinking about alien guns.

He didn't dare try and talk to himself out loud or do anything mildly entertaining lest he draw unwanted attention to himself. Between well-meaning humans and decidedly not well-meaning aliens, Viktor had his work cut out for him.

Eventually, though, it seemed that his luck was beginning to swing upward. The houses become far and few between, the aliens even fewer, and the trees more abundant. He gratefully ducked into the thick of the woods, heaving a sigh of relief when it became clear that it was not overly populated.

But, just to be safe. Viktor climbed up the closest tree, and yelled, "Hello?"

He held his breath, but after about twenty minutes, there was no sign of curious aliens or worse, curious humans coming to find him.

"Sick," Viktor whispered, feeling his lips tick upward and something dangerously close to hope sliding into his chest.

He found his sanctuary. Now, he just had to make it one.

***

He looked at the shitty lean-to with squinty eyes. He definitely wasn't going to be winning any Best Home on an Alien Planet awards any time soon, but considering Viktor hasn't seen rain or snow or really anything besides a mild, but chilly breeze, he thought it did the job.

He'd found a half-rotted fallen log and immediately decided to set up shop. Grabbing sticks had been a welcome distraction to the fact about what he was gathering sticks for and setting them up was even better. He would've preferred, like, a real house, though.

Leaves of all shapes and sizes weren't scarce and soon he had a passable pile he could sleep on. If he could have, Viktor would have set up something in a tree - he didn't like being on the ground after meeting that freaky dumpster rat thing. He hadn't seen many animals, sure, but the ones he'd fought in the arena and the ones he had seen out in the real world didn't look like they could climb trees.

A project in the future, maybe. But he tried not to think about the future.

What he thought about now was the gnawing hunger in his stomach. The fruit in his pockets had been soggy but delicious nonetheless. But that had been hours ago, and after making his new abode, he was racking up an appetite. Hopefully, there would be some fruiting trees in this neck of the woods.

Viktor stared at his camp, trying to burn it into memory so that he wouldn't lose his way back. Gnarled tree to the left? Check. Odd, pointy rock to the right? Check. He stomped and kicked at the grass to make it lie flat. If his luck held out, he'd find his way back.

It took him a while to feel comfortable enough to hike out of sight, but after finding a sharpish rock and nicking lines into trees, he felt a bit more secure in his ability to recall the path back.

And, he argued with himself, it wasn't like he had much in the way of possessions. Losing his camp wouldn't be the end of the world.

Viktor walked in one direction, making sure to mark trees here and there. Sometimes, the woods would thin out and leave scraggly little trees in their place before thickening back up. Stumbling upon a clearing was nice on his legs but would leave him feeling mildly paranoid about being so exposed.

He didn't walk for more than twenty minutes in this direction before the woods abruptly ended, and Viktor was faced with a garden.

Garden was a terrible word to use to describe the sanctuary he'd found. Paths wound around bushes and flowers, decorated with small lights and statues of wildlife. A fountain stood in the middle, gushing bubbling water. Well, that solved the water problem, he thought with relief.

But Viktor wasn't an idiot - this was clearly someone's backyard. The giant mansion that stood on the other side of the garden was proof enough. Someone rich and important lived here. Maybe Viktor would be lucky enough to get an abandoned mansion.

A crackling, static noise filled his ears as someone walked down the path off to his right. Viktor quickly fled into the thicker part of the woods - just barely able to see the gardens and certainly out of view for any wandering eyes. Just to be safe, though, he ducked behind a tree.

A bulky alien was walking along the perimeter of the tree line, talking to whatever radio was attached to his shoulder. A security guard, by the looks of it. Damn, Viktor thought, whoever lived in this house must be really important.

Not that it mattered much to him. All he cared about right now was drinking his fill from that water fountain and finding some food.

After the guard walked a considerable ways away from where Viktor was, he felt confident enough to try and sneak over to the fountain. He'd need to come up with something to carry water in. Maybe he could find a hollow rock or something? Oh, or he could carve out a cup! Though, that might be out of Viktor's abilities.

Right now, though, he was thirsty. He snuck through the foliage carefully, keeping an eye out for that security guard. When he reached the fountain, it took all he had not to just dunk his head in. The cold breeze that practically cut through his clothes reminded him well enough that he'd probably get hypothermia.

In fact, just being out of the trees made him realize just how cold it was. Drink and then retreat.

Shoveling handfuls of water into his mouth was harder than it should have been. The fountain was fucking huge, so Viktor had to heave himself over the first level, gripping the cold stone with one hand to keep his balance. He was one good push away from falling in.

His entire upper half was hanging over the stone, its cold edges digging uncomfortably into his stomach - and the left over wounds he got from the two versus one beat down - while he drank his fill.

He tried to console himself by remembering that he had actually won that fight. And then killed the ringmaster right after.

It did a remarkably great job of cheering him up.

Of course, whenever things were looking good for him, something just had to happen to make everything go bad.

"Ro!" an alien alarmingly close by shouted, and Viktor was moving before he could even swallow his mouthful of water. The alien shouted after him, but he only glanced over his shoulder to confirm that he wasn't getting chased before he fled into the trees.

His heart trying its damnedest to break out of his chest, Viktor struggled to catch his breath as he climbed up a tree a few yards into the woods. He scratched up his arms and legs trying to climb the damn thing, but as soon as he made it up to a thick branch and was able to simply be, he felt some of the primal fear evaporate.

Jesus, he thought to himself, hugging the trunk like a lifeline. What was he, some kind of animal? Loud noises weren't scary. And yet, here he was, having fled from a shouting alien all because it startled him.

He peered out from between the trees' foliage, a bit wary. The aliens didn't seem too fussed about his being there - they were probably as surprised as he was. Who knew how many wild humans there were?

Stop sympathizing with them, a nasty part of his brain shouted. Aliens are nothing but trouble.

He was correct in that regard, at least. He had yet to meet an alien that wasn't evil, straight down to its soul. If these things even had souls.

He shook his head, focusing on the garden in front of him. Now that he was higher up, he could see multiple aliens patrolling the place, though most had now congregated around the fountain, chatting it up. None were chasing him into the forest, which was a good sign.

Even though it took him a little bit to gather his courage enough to slide down the tree. By that time, the aliens had gone back to patrolling, though they were keeping a curious eye on the tree line.

No more investigating for him, he decided. He got his fill with water, and while he was getting hungry, he had eaten enough to tide him over for the most part. Right now, he just wanted to sleep.

But sleep meant finding his camp, and unfortunately, he had run in the wrong direction. Great, just great.

It would have been easier to cut across the garden, with its precut paths and minimal vegetation, but Viktor didn't want to risk getting spotted. What if they called their alien version of animal control? No, he would not go back into a cage. So, he trekked through the woods, uncomfortably close to the edge to keep his bearings.

As soon as he saw his first mark in a tree, he retreated. The farther away from that mansion, the better.

But Viktor was no good at keeping promises to himself. He was back the next day.

The night had been terrible. His lean-to was pretty good at keeping out the wind, but he had still been freezing and his mood worsened as he became hyperaware of how fucking hungry he was. He could seriously eat a horse.

He was up as soon as the sun was, eager to get moving. He was of the mind that there wouldn't be guards out early in the morning, and as soon as he approached the edges of the garden, he was cautiously proven correct.

Viktor couldn't see an alien in sight. He even climbed up a tree to get a better advantage point. None! It almost felt too good to be true, but maybe yesterday had been a hiccup in the normal... security guard schedule. Who knew? Certainly not Viktor.

So, with his ears and eyes peeled, he crept out into the gardens, intent on looking for a fruit tree. There had been none at his campsite, much to his slowly mounting distress. He hadn't even seen any of those rat creatures - even though the thought of hunting one and what, cooking it up on the grill he had handy? made him a bit sick, Viktor knew he was going to need food - so his options were becoming extremely limited.

He knew of one food source. Fruit trees. He even knew what they looked like, in case they weren't fruiting. He found a few of them that were barely grown. Their fruits were small, hard, and very much not ripe, but Viktor tried to eat them anyway. He felt like he was breaking every single one of his teeth on them.

Disgusted, he threw the fruit, stomach only protesting now that his tongue had had a taste.

He looked warily at the mansion. Jesus that thing was huge. Since it was so big, though, it stood to reason that it'd have a lot of leftover trash, right?

"No way," he said to himself, jumping at the noise and immediately feeling embarrassed about it. "I am not digging through the trash."

There were a few other ways to get food. Really try to go hunting - there had to be some animals out in the woods, right? He could try, but Viktor has never gone hunting in his life. He'd have no clue how to even begin, let alone how to harvest any unlucky animal he managed to catch.

Not to mention, he had no clue how to start a fire. Something he'd have to try today, considering how he had nearly frozen his ass off last night.

Another food acquisition method would be to simply... beg the aliens for some. If humans were considered pets in this world, surely someone would feel bad for him and throw him some scraps? But that had the added - and in Viktor's opinion, extremely risky - drawback of interacting with aliens.

And Viktor - right now, Viktor couldn't even stomach interacting with one. He had no way to know if they would recognize him and ship him back to the arena.

No. No, Viktor wouldn't even look at the aliens. Or dig through their trash. Last resort.

He managed to find a fully-grown fruit tree, and to his delight, it was fruiting. The fruits were obviously on their way out, which made him a bit nervous to think of for the future. He grabbed as many as he could while simultaneously stuffing his face.

He was thinking about how he'd get all this fruit down the tree without squashing them when the backdoors of the mansion slammed out with furious snarling and loud, angry words. It took everything Viktor had to keep himself in the tree. He had gotten closer to the building than he had realized.

"OVokkra, imrie ney-" a small alien said, following after a much larger, angrier one out into the gardens. The bigger one whirled on the smaller one, pointing back to the building and hissing out words that Viktor couldn't imagine deciphering. The smaller one bowed and took off like its life depended on it.

Must be the big, important alien the mansion belonged to, Viktor thought with a sort of nervous fear filling him. It looked pissed.

It was half covered in glinting metal that Viktor figured was rings and cords of jewelry, like it had stopped halfway through decorating itself. Compared to the smaller alien, this one seemed to be a lot bigger - plus, it had a super long tail that Viktor was sure could pack a punch. He had always been grateful that the ringmaster hadn't had a tail. Those that did were more likely to smack him around with it. He could only imagine what the ringmaster would do to him if he had one.

He's dead, Viktor, he told himself firmly, accidentally digging his fingers into the sugar-apple. He shoved it into his mouth to avoid dropping any portion of it and alerting the alien.

The pissed off alien lashed its tail on the ground like an angry cat before it took a deep breath, looking skyward. Viktor wondered what it was thinking before he remembered that he shouldn't care.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the alien wasn't going to be leaving any time soon, and Viktor's optimism for a quick retreat vanished as it started walking around the gardens like it owned the place.

Well, okay, it did, but Viktor wasn't going to be happy about it.

He grew tenser and tenser as the alien grew closer. The alien wasn't looking up, but Viktor wasn't going to move an inch to alert it to his presence.

He just knew, deep in his gut, that this alien was trouble. It was one thing for security guards to catch a glimpse of him, but the owner of the house could easily decide to set out traps or something. Not that Viktor would be stupid enough to trip one.

And of course, while Viktor concentrated on everything he had not to move, the universe decided to make the tree he was sitting on drop a fucking fruit.

"Fuck you," he mouthed to the tree, eyes glued to the alien.

It whirled around, eyes suspicious. It relaxed when it saw that it was alone, but it started inspecting the tree more closely than Viktor cared for. The alien murmured something to himself and stepped closer to pick off the fruit that the traitorous tree just dropped.

Don't look up, don't look up was the mantra swirling in Viktor's head right as the alien looked up. Fuck.

The alien made a surprised noise as soon as it saw him. Viktor felt nearly sick with the dread-fueled adrenaline coursing through him. He knew that he was well and truly stuck. He probably wouldn't be able to get out of the tree fast enough to avoid this alien's claws, and he sure as hell wouldn't be able to get back to the safety of the woods without this bastard following him.

"Ro," it said. Seriously, was that the only word these aliens could say outside of the arena? What the hell did it even mean? Probably something along the lines of 'wow, what a disgusting animal. I better get far away from it and leave it alone!'

He wished.

"Ka tash drsh?" it asked. It lifted up the fruit as if he wanted Viktor to take it. This alien must be an idiot if it thought that he was a) going to climb down this tree with it watching and b) get in arm's reach. Viktor was perfectly content to wait out the heat death of the universe instead of braving this alien's presence.

Okay. He was being dramatic. But still, he was going to wait out this alien. It wasn't like Viktor had anywhere else to be.

He was injured - though, they were slowly healing, only limited by the fact that he didn't have any more ointment to painfully speed up the process - and kind of hungry still. He was smaller than most aliens and this particular one was giant. Viktor was at a severe disadvantage, and this tree was likely the only thing between him and certain death.

When it became clear to the alien that Viktor wasn't going to move, it lowered the fruit. Instead of stepping away and leaving him in peace, the alien stepped closer, peering up at him with curiosity.

Curse his stomach. He just had to find food in this place.

But where else could he have gone? came the sardonic thought.

This was all so frustrating.

Viktor bared his teeth at the alien warningly. It was a bluff and the alien likely knew that. He hated being cornered, though, and even if he was unlikely to launch an attack on this thing, maybe he could scare it off.

Though, how a puny human like him could scare off such a monstrously large alien, he didn't know. But it was the best thing he had.

An idea popped into his head, and Viktor quickly glanced around the tree to find the nearest fruit. There was one a few branches away... Maybe he could snag one before the alien cottoned on to what he was doing. It was better than sitting around and waiting for something bad to happen.

Viktor had never been able to cope with being idle.

Viktor slowly shifted from sitting on the branch to crouching onto it, almost painfully slow. The alien tilted its head and continued staring at him. Occasionally, it'd murmur some words, shaking the fruit at him.

Its eyes were a very striking yellow. He's never seen an alien with yellow eyes before.

Whatever! Doesn't matter. What mattered was getting a fruit. And with a quick jump - where his stomach wounds stretched painfully against the movement and collided with even more agony against the branch - Viktor grabbed a sizeable sugar-apple and lobbed it straight at the alien's face.

It ducked - bummer! - and took a few stumbling steps back. Amidst his successful distraction, Viktor hurriedly slid down the tree, pointedly ignoring all the scratches and painful gouges littering his arms and legs, and fucking booked it.

"Ro!" it shouted after him, and Viktor swore he heard laughter in its voice. But that was impossible. These aliens didn't laugh unless it was at his expense, and for the first time, he finally got one up on them.

He disappeared into the tree line and foliage, intending to make his way back toward his camp, but something was itching the back of his mind, telling him to linger. It was dangerous, but his curiosity won out in the end. His instincts never led him wrong.

The alien had wandered toward him, slowing its pace as it lost track of him. It had an open expression on its face - nothing he's ever seen before in the arena. He's seen happy, pissed off, smug, and most importantly pleased - but this guy looked almost amused? Like he was going to burst out laughing any second.

This guy was weird, Viktor thought, turning away from the alien to retreat into the woods. Who laughed after getting pelted in the face with an apple?

Whatever. All Viktor knew was that he was going to stay far away from the mansion and the weird laughing alien. At all costs.

***

The gnawing in his stomach was unbearable.

Viktor could only distract himself by building his shelter for so long until the pain overwhelmed him. The downside to his hard-earned freedom was definitely the hunger. Even if he was glad to never eat any of that gray goop ever again.

He had rationed the fruit he'd managed to take with him for the first three days, but by the fourth, he was nearly desperate for something big.

Like a hamburger, he thought, mouth watering. With french fries.

Searching around the area had proven fruitless - literally and figuratively. There were no fruit trees anywhere. He couldn't even find berry bushes. The only plus he had found was that there were some small animals skittering through the woods, but Viktor had no way of catching them. He didn't know how to set a trap, let alone make a fire.

He spent most of the morning trying to learn, but it was turning out tougher than he'd like.

First of all, rubbing sticks together must have been a myth, because he could not get them even remotely warmed up. The pile of snapped sticks steadily grew beside him as he grew more and more frustrated.

Even smacking rocks together yielded nothing more than sore fingers and disheartenment.

Until he could make fire, he was subjected to long and cold nights. Viktor was half convinced that he'd catch hypothermia any day now. Especially as winter started to settle in.

Searching for food had led him to soft ferns and softer leaves, though, and he carried back anything he could to line his 'bed'. He was just lucky it didn't rain on this planet, otherwise, he'd be soaked.

But by noon, his stomach was practically screaming at him to put something in it. Viktor had never known hunger like this before. It was unbearable.

So, unfortunately, he made his way back to the mansion.

It was the only place he knew that had food he could eat. He reasoned with himself that he could put up with being in some aliens' presences if it meant filling his stomach. It wasn't even that big of a drawback, right now. Viktor was that hungry. And thirsty, don't forget thirsty.

He stalked along the edges of the forest warily, eyes peeled for any sign of aliens. As much as he wanted to beeline straight toward the fruit tree, he knew he needed some water in him first. And that stupid fountain was right in the middle of the garden.

But the sound of running water made him only more aware of his dry, scratchy throat, and after one cursory glance around the place, Viktor threw caution to the wind and went. He was just so thirsty!

Drinking his fill had never felt so refreshing, even though he had made himself drink less than he wanted to - something about not overdoing when you were nearly dehydrated, he recalled. The fruit had tided him over some, but his thirst was definitely teetering past waking-up-in-the-middle-of-night territory and tipping dangerously into seeing-black-spots-on-the-edges-of-your-vision territory.

He barely got back onto his feet before he was diving for cover. Where he had been mere moments ago was a pissed off alien.

"Byr!" it shouted. Viktor bared his teeth at it, skittering further into a scraggly bush as it swiped at him.

"Go fuck yourself!" he shouted back, wishing he had something to grab to attack with.

"Ro! Kas mirmak?" another security guard yelled from across the garden. It said a bunch of other words that made the alien in front of him huff and back off. Viktor watched him suspiciously. The alien watched him just as suspiciously.

As predicted, the alien's patience wore out quicker than his, and it went back to patrolling or whatever it was evil alien security guards did while working. As soon as Viktor was able, he fled the scene, returning to the tree line's relative safety.

While his thirst had been quenched, his hunger had decidedly not been, and Viktor wasn't going to go sulk in his camp, hungrier than he's ever been in his life, for the fifth day in a row.

At least the fruit trees were in the woods, he reckoned, jumping over rocks and hiking through wild bushes as he made his way over to his intended target. If they were in the middle of the garden, he'd be pretty pissed off.

He quickly found the tree, climbing up in two big jumps - he was getting really good at the whole climbing thing; his younger self would have been proud - and snatching as many fruits as he could. They were definitely on their way out now. Most fruit he touched were soggy and lumpy and would've been repulsive if he hadn't actually been starving to death. As it were, he bit into the soggy, lumpy apple and nearly passed away due to bliss.

Sweet delicious food. He loved food.

After eating his fill - and not thinking about how, in probably a week, his only food source would be long gone - he decided to entertain himself by chucking the stems and extremely rotten fruit at the guards patrolling the place. On one particularly lucky throw, he nailed one right in the back of the head.

It shrieked what were probably some impressive alien obscenities, looking around wildly for the culprit. Even though Viktor was safely ensconced in the tree, hidden from view, he still held his hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. Another guard approached the one he hit, laughing at his co-worker's expense.

It made Viktor frown in confusion. Weren't these aliens supposed to always be angry or something? He's never seen aliens laugh at anything that wasn't malicious.

He brushed it off. Even knowing, objectively, that these aliens were people, too, didn't make his confusion falter. He's only ever known the ring for over two years. The arena was all he knew.

By the time the sun had set, the guards had retreated into the mansion - which made Viktor wonder if they lived there, too, protecting that big bad important alien he had seen earlier - and Viktor was feeling pretty tired himself. He shimmied down the tree slowly, mindful of his slowly healing wounds.

Not eating for a while seemed to slow down the whole healing process. Go figure. But now that he was full - almost - he could practically feel his energy returning to him.

As soon as his feet hit the ground, something glinted in his peripheral vision and he whipped around, fists up and ready to defend himself from any threat.

His hands dropped to his sides when he saw that the threat had merely been a round, metal bowl on the floor.

"Careful, Viktor," he muttered in embarrassment. "Don't wanna get attacked by a dish."

Curiosity piqued despite the embarrassment - he was just glad no one saw that - Viktor went over to inspect. To his surprise and confusion, there were little round pellets inside.

Right. The whole pet thing. Someone probably thought he was a stray. Definitely not one of the guards. Those guys were jerks.

He picked one up. It felt grainy and looked exactly like dry dog kibble. He wrinkled his nose at it, suspicious. These couldn't be drugged, could they? If these aliens thought they were no better than animals, they likely thought them pretty dumb, so putting a pill or something that would make him fall asleep would be obvious. Viktor couldn't see any obvious pills in the bowl.

His stomach growled. His mind hissed skeptically.

Fuck it, he'd risk it. He was starving, and soggy fruit wouldn't do much to tide him over. If these aliens were going to feed him - even if it was just kibble - he'd take advantage of it. He wasn't stupid.

The pellets tasted like pears, and tears nearly sprung into his eyes at the taste. His body moved before he could even command it, shoveling dry pellets into his mouth left and right. They were hard to chew and left a chalky aftertaste on his tongue, but they were fucking delicious. If only he had some water, though.

Viktor had to set the bowl down before he did something ridiculous like lick it clean. With more willpower than he's had to use in a long time, he stepped back from the now-empty bowl. "Thanks, whoever put you out here," he told it gratefully, then felt like an idiot for talking to a bowl.

He picked up some more soggy fruit, and with one more lingering glance at the bowl, retreated back to his camp. He felt full for the first time in a long while and even the chilly wind that slipped through the sticks of his lean-to couldn't wash away how warm he felt.

The next day, he woke up with a game plan. He grabbed a stick and began sketching out the details on a patch of dirt he cleared away.

The map of the gardens was lackluster, and even Viktor winced at his art skills. Still, it was sorta nice actually drawing something, even if it looked awful. He had never gotten to do this in the arena.

He hadn't gotten to do much at the arena besides fighting and talking to his friends.

Frowning, Viktor scratched out the map with vigor, starting anew. The second map didn't look much better than the first, but it was recognizable at least. The fountain was a circle, and the path to the fruit tree was dotted with small rocks he'd found. He didn't have half of it laid out simply because he hadn't explored over there.

But he was going to rectify that.

Viktor needed food desperately. He was going to start chewing on random plants if he didn't find anything of substance soon.

So, the first thing on the list: find another fruit tree. His best shot was going to be in that garden.

The second thing on the list was figuring out how to trap animals. The only thing he could think of was digging out pit falls. If he could dig holes deep enough to avoid the small rodent animals from jumping back out, Viktor could kill them when they're down. But he'd need something to dig with and more importantly, bait.

It wasn't likely that these animals ate fruit - otherwise, he'd have competition for those trees - so he figured that finding the aliens' dumpster and scrounging food scraps from there would work well enough. And, if he got lucky, he'd find something to dig with!

Frankly, there were only benefits to exploring the gardens and mansion. If only Viktor could muster up the courage to actually go and do it.

It frightened him, though, and Viktor decided that he'd procrastinate and try to make fire again.

Clashing together rocks was stress-relieving, but after the thirtieth try and no sparks flew, it started to become stress-inducing.

"Stupid fucking rocks," he muttered under his breath, not helped by the fact that he was sort of shaking from being still for so long and generating no heat. He slammed his two rocks together angrily. "Just spark!"

They stared balefully up at him. Viktor chucked one into the forest.

Maybe he just didn't have the right sort of rocks. There were different kinds, weren't there? He couldn't expect salt rocks to start fires, could he? It was stuff like flint and obsidian that did it. Quartz, too, right?

But did those rocks even exist on this planet? Maybe, but they sure as hell wouldn't be just littering the ground in easily accessible locations - it would never be that easy.

Maybe he needed to go back to rubbing sticks together. That'd probably work out better for him.

Viktor decided he was too cold and too angry to even think about fire anymore, so he got to feet and trekked toward the mansion. With each step, some of his ire faded, replaced by sticky dread. It scratched at his ribs and made his stomach hurt, but he's faced worse pain in uglier circumstances, so he sucked it up.

Rubbing his hands together, Viktor carefully scoped out the place. The guards didn't seem to be patrolling today. Maybe they did it every other day? Or maybe there had been an attack on the rich alien guy and had security tighten up as a result. Or there was a spy among their ranks and convincing the guards to patrol the boring gardens was a way to divert their attention from some important figure.

Wow, Viktor needed to get his hands on a book or something. He was starting to sound a little crazy.

Nevertheless, he took the boon for what it was, carefully making his way to the fountain and drinking the water. He was just glad it was running, and it hadn't made him sick yet, so that was a plus.

This place rocked, if he were honest. Despite the numerous aliens.

He made sure to keep track of his surroundings more carefully this time. If he had been in the arena, he'd have gotten himself killed.

Thankfully, no aliens decided to swipe at him this time, and Viktor cautiously picked his way over to the 'unknown' side of the garden. It was remarkably similar to the other side, probably due to the symmetry. It had another sugar-apple tree, as well as what looked like a weird banana tree. Curious, he grabbed one.

He gave it a sniff. Didn't really smell like anything. It wasn't squishy like the apples, though, so he figured it was probably ripe. He cracked it open, struggling just a bit to get his nails through its tough skin. Bracing himself - though, he knew that food poisoning came on a few hours after; Viktor didn't quite know what he was expecting to happen - he took a small bite.

And immediately recoiled.

"Ugh!" he exclaimed, dropping the banana and spitting his mouthful onto the ground. "What the fuck!"

It tasted like sour battery acid and lemon juice at the same time. Dear God, that was disgusting.

Something shuffled behind him, and he pivoted on his heel, grabbing an apple from his pile and throwing it with all his strength at his opponent. It splattered against the alien's chest, and it stumbled back a few steps in surprise.

It was that same alien that had cornered him in the tree. It looked much shinier than last time, decorated with hundreds of glinting trinkets. Viktor had the stray thought that they'd be good firestarters before he was scaling the closest tree.

The alien was even more massive when they were on the same level - he couldn't even begin to imagine the damage it would inflict on him if it got its hands on him. Broken bones were the least of his worries; it'd probably tear his limbs clean off!

"Go away!" he shouted angrily, pissed off that it had gotten the drop on him so suddenly. Pissed that his heart was thundering with fear. Pissed that he was on this godforsaken planet!

"Rohsh," it said cheerfully, probably pleased that it's got him trapped. Viktor bared his teeth meanly at it, trying to look as intimidating as possible. If he saw a rabid raccoon, he'd walk away. Should he start foaming at the mouth?

It kept looking at him. The alien squinted at him, gesturing to its own neck as it said, "Fchs ka tash kry?"

The collar. It must be talking about the collar. Fear gripped him like a vice. Did it know that it was remote-controlled? Did it have a remote? Viktor gripped the collar tightly, baring his teeth as he shouted, "Get the fuck away from me!"

The alien held up its hands, splaying its fingers widely. It said gently, "Kas tih, cho'k. Imrie ney gnn ta."

What?! "Go fuck yourself. Preferably somewhere far away," he hissed, climbing a few more branches to get even further away from it.

Unfortunately, however, the alien only stepped closer, saying words in its surprisingly calm voice. Viktor eyed his pile of sugar-apples mournfully, forgotten on the floor. He didn't have anything to throw unless he wanted to try and snap off a piece of branch. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea.

The alien jolted as if it had an idea before it held up its hand in a stop motion. "Kor," it said sternly, and Viktor flinched so hard, he almost lost his grip on the tree.

"Fuck off!" he screamed, feeling his throat burn with the force of it. His voice was cracked with fear, and he struggled to hold it together. He could not have a freakout in front of an alien.

The alien looked surprised and confused. "Fchs? Kas tih."

But Viktor barely heard it, breathing in harshly through his nose in an attempt to calm down. It had said kor, not kora, but he half-expected blows to land on him any second. His heart was in his throat, beating erratically, and he thought he might have a heart attack from the fear.

He gripped the tree tighter, almost reveling in the pain that was brought by digging his fingers so harshly against the wood. He hasn't felt this terrified since the first few times the ringmaster had decided that the only way to ensure their obedience was through Viktor's pain.

The alien moved suddenly, jerking sideways for no particular reason, but the sudden movement made Viktor flinch, dragging his hands from the trunk of the tree to hover over his face. Oddly, the alien's face got sad. And not Lilac-sad, but actually sad. Like, concerned, worried, and sympathetic all in one. It was such an unfamiliar sight to see that Viktor was dragged out of his panic.

"I don't need your pity," he whispered heatedly. He wasn't sure if the alien heard him.

"Kas tih, cho'k," the alien muttered, looking up at him with a weird expression on his face that he's never seen before. It held up a hand, thankfully remaining silent this time before it spun on its heel - agonizingly slow, Viktor noted belatedly - and walked off. Occasionally, it glanced over its shoulder to check if he were still there.

It was only until the alien had crossed the entire garden that Viktor realized the expression on its face had been one of kindness.

Discomfited, Viktor fully intended to get off this tree and retreat to his camp, but the alien must have seen him shifting on the branch because it all but sprinted back to him. Viktor hugged the tree again, scowling down at the alien and feeling vaguely like a pissed-off cat stuck in a tree.

"Mor," it said cheerfully, showing him the bowl that he had eaten from yesterday. It was empty. Viktor was not impressed.

"Where's the norish?" he asked sarcastically. He flinched when the alien laughed loudly, looking overjoyed.

"Teyk! Norish! Ta ka awshk, cho'k," it beamed. Viktor squinted at him in confusion. He only recognized the word norish. But there wasn't any food in that bowl. The alien made a humming noise and muttered something to itself. It patted itself down the front before it pulled out a small bag.

It quickly became clear that this alien was the source of the mysterious food from the other day as it opened the bag and dumped its contents into the bowl. The alien shook it enticingly, and despite himself, Viktor felt his stomach rumbling. The alien placed it on the floor at the bottom of the tree.

The doors to the mansion slammed open, and another red alien exited the mansion, followed closely by several other aliens that seemed to be struggling to stop it. "Rulshkka!" it snapped, pointing at the alien next to Viktor.

He looked down briefly - the alien looked rather annoyed, but also, sort of happy? - before returning his wary gaze back to the group of aliens that seemed to be intent on making their way over to Viktor.

"Vokkra," another alien spluttered, looking helplessly at the larger alien. Now, Viktor was confused. Were these words this one's name? VokkraRulshkka? Or was it RulshkkaVokkra? What a dumb name. It was way too long.

"Rul," the first red alien growled, grabbing it by the front of its shirt and shaking it a little. Female, like Lilac, he noted vaguely before it started yelling, and Viktor grew increasingly uncomfortable. His palms were starting to sweat, and he surreptitiously climbed just a bit higher into the tree. Thankfully, no one else seemed to notice.

Rul was a better name for this guy. But they had still called him Voka, or whatever. Viktor decided he'd call him Vok'Rul. Best of both worlds. Better than calling him the alien all the time.

Vok'Rul looked extremely unbothered by this whole affair, reassuring the other one - who looked remarkably similar to him, actually - with a few words. The other let go of his shirt, crossing her arms and threatening him with a snarl. Viktor made a mental note to stay away from her.

He shook his head. Stay away from all of them! Aliens were nothing but trouble.

But this guy's feeding you, some part of him whispered. He quickly shut it up.

Whatever Vok'Rul told the alien made her roll her eyes and storm back into the mansion with a huff. Some of the other aliens followed her after bowing at Vok'Rul which reminded him that this guy must be who the mansion belonged to.

The alien's shoulders slumped as soon as the remaining aliens shuffled inside reluctantly. He looked back up at the tree hopefully, but his expression fell when it became clear he couldn't see Viktor.

Viktor felt something suspiciously like guilt pool in his stomach before he swiftly reminded himself that he had nothing to feel bad for.

Vok'Rul stared at the tree for a while longer, likely trying to pick him out, but eventually he gave a small huff and started walking back to the mansion. Viktor didn't move until the door was shut behind him. As soon as he saw it close, Viktor skittered down the tree, practically inhaling the food.

He was halfway through the bowl before he started tasting the food and was surprised to find out that it tasted like smoked meat. What kind of meat - he couldn't tell, but it was delicious.

Fuck, anything was delicious to him. 'Cept that disgusting banana.

Despite his burning desire to retreat to the safety of his lean-to, he knew he needed to finish scoping out the garden for more food sources. He found a few more spiky apple trees, and one more banana tree, but that was it. And unfortunately, they all seemed to be going out of season.

Well, he figured as he looked at a banana tree with disgust crawling into his throat, he wouldn't starve if he could manage to eat those without throwing up.

Maybe he could mash them up into a soup or something. But soups required fire.

He scowled at the reminder and finished making his mental map of the garden. He lingered uncertainly at the tree line, knowing that he needed to get closer to the mansion in order to rummage through its trash but also hyperaware of the fact that there would be aliens close by.

They probably won't even notice him, he reasoned to himself, wiping down his palms on the front of his shirt - torn, frayed, and caked with dried blood. He needed to wash these suckers, but the only source of water was the fountain, and Viktor quite liked drinking fresh water, thanks.

"Stop stalling," he told himself loudly, making himself jump. He started walking toward the mansion before he could stop himself.

He got uncomfortably close enough to see inside the building through the shimmery glass windows - and Jesus, those looked fancy as hell; Viktor thought they might break just by looking at them - and spot at least seven aliens milling about. He quickly ducked out of sight, trying to calm his nerves. He sidled up to the edge of the building, mercifully short enough to walk underneath the windows without peeking over them and risking getting caught.

God, he never thought he'd be glad to be short.

His thankfulness was quickly snuffed when he realized just how big alien dumpsters were.

Sure, he had slept behind one during his first few days of freedom, but that one must have been a measly trash bin compared to this great hulking thing. How many aliens lived here to warrant this monstrosity?!

It was three times his size in height and at least six times in width. The top was open, and Viktor could barely smell the scent of trash coming off it. Unfortunately, it smelled of food, and Viktor was still hungry. It made his stomach rumble, which grossed him out because as much as he was all for theoretically digging through the trash to get his next meal, he wasn't about to actually go and do it.

Climbing into the dumpster was no problem. He felt brief hesitation teetering over the lip of the thing on his way out before he caught sight of a ladder built into the sides of one of the walls. Thank god for alien OSHA.

YOU ARE WELCOME boomed painfully inside his head just as Viktor was teetering dangerously over the rim. He screamed in fright, losing his grip and falling face first into the garbage. Which was disgusting.

He whirled around to face -

nothing. There was absolutely nothing behind him. He scaled the ladder with a quickness driven by fear, but there was no one. Unless a ten-foot-tall could somehow shrink enough to hide behind some small, orange flowers, there was no one here.

"What the fuck," he said aloud, voice echoing in the metal chamber. "I'm going fucking crazy."

Feelings of curiosity and intrigue flooded him, and he knew that it couldn't have come from him because he was staring at a half-chewed piece of fucking meat. Unnerved to the extreme, Viktor quickly decided that he needed to get out of this haunted dumpster.

Get a thing to dig with first, he told himself. Haunted dumpster or not, he needed a tool other than his hands.

Something compelled him to dig underneath a particularly unassuming pile of dirty cloths and his surprise to find a thick soup ladle with a snapped handle was completely warranted.

Okay, now it was time to get out of the somehow lucky, very much haunted dumpster. Just as he was about to reach for the ladder, every muscle in his body froze.

It felt very much like being hugged by a python might be, and Viktor quickly began panicking. He struggled to breathe, and no matter how much he willed his hand to move, it just wouldn't-

The freaky alien ghosts of the dumpster were holding him captive!

Just as he heard scuffling outside of the dumpster, he was released and collided painfully with the side of the dumpster. Before he could even think about it, Viktor scaled the ladder and practically threw himself out of the dumpster. His knees met the concrete slab the dumpster was placed on painfully, swiftly followed with his arm bending unnaturally underneath his body as he tried to catch his fall.

His mouth dropped open in a silent groan, only being able to withhold the noises of pain that wanted to escape due to the ringmaster's insistence that he keep quiet. He rolled onto his back quickly, tears in his eyes, in order to see the new threat.

In all honestly, he was fucking doomed. Even if he could attack something as big as an alien with a fucking spoon, Viktor's arm was throbbing. He just hoped it wasn't broken.

It was Vok'Rul. The alien had stopped far enough away that if he suddenly charged, Viktor felt he was capable enough to get to his feet and book it. He was wide-eyed, curious, and carrying a bundle of what looked like blankets in his hands.

Viktor immediately bared his teeth at him, switching the ladle to his other hand and brandishing it threateningly while he got to his feet. "Don't you have better things to do than bother me?" he asked in a wheeze, angling his body so that his arm was farther away from the alien.

Vok'Rul blinked. Then, he looked past Viktor slightly and started talking out loud, sounding exasperated. Viktor felt something heavy shift over him, and he was suddenly aware of the lack of curiosity swirling at the back of his mind.

He decided, then, that he'd never think of ghosts again, because what the fuck was that.

Before Vok'Rul could do anything, Viktor simply turned tail and ran for it. He couldn't fight or bluff his way out of this one, and he could only hope that the bundle in his arms would deter him from chasing after him.

"Ro! Neyk!" he shouted after him, but he was already gone.

The stitch in his side that he acquired on his dead sprint back to his camp didn't fade for hours after, but it could have easily been the sick fear that nearly choked him.

***

Viktor managed to get some sleep and found out that he, miraculously, didn't break his arm. Oh, it was swollen something fierce, but it didn't hurt that bad.

He also decided that ghosts were fake and he had just been a little delirious with hunger or something. His sanity would not accept any other option.

Going back to the mansion right now was just asking for trouble, so he figured that setting up pitfall traps was a good use of his time instead, and spent most of the day digging out pits in random spots where he had seen some small critters. He covered them carefully with leaf litter and small sticks. With any luck, these things would work.

The spoon made things a lot easier, that was for sure. He managed to dig up some sizeable rocks that looked different from the run of the mill rocks he found on the ground. Smacking them together hadn't warranted any sparks, though. He put them in a small pile next to his lean-to. for ammo or something. Viktor didn't know; he just liked the look of them.

By the time night rolled around, along with the chill, Viktor was miserably sitting on his wilting leaf bed. His arm throbbed in time with his heartbeat, he was thirsty, and he was cold.

"Wish I could breathe fire," he sighed, carefully bringing up his hands to his mouth and breathing into them. "Would make things a lot easier."

TRY SAP

He jumped in fright at the sudden noise, leaping to his feet and brandishing his spoon. "Who's there?" he shouted, voice high. No answer. He stood with the spoon out in front of him like an idiot for five minutes before he decided that he was hearing things.

Amusement trickled in and he let out a hysterical giggle. He really was going crazy.

He promptly burst into tears.

Pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, Viktor sucked in shuddering gasps, trying to get it together. But no matter how much he tried to rein in his emotions, they kept squeaking out in sobs. Great, heaving, ugly sobs. He cried for what seemed like hours.

He couldn't do this. Dear god, he was going to die out in the woods, and no one would even know. Not his dad, not Pedro, not Aiko, no one.

But it was better out here, he told himself, wiping angrily at his eyes. Out here, there was no cages, no arenas, no animals to fight. Nothing.

Exactly. He was alone. He held his breath in an effort to hold back the tears, but a wretched sob wracked his body. Alone.

He woke up the next morning with burning eyes and a vague sense of regret sitting in his chest.

He laid in bed for a moment, letting the aches and pains of yesterday settle over him and listening to the breeze rustling the trees. He let himself wallow in self-pity before he sat up carefully, inspecting his wounds.

There was nothing for it, he decided as he pulled his tattered shirt back down. No matter if he was alone or not, he wasn't going to waste his chance at freedom feeling sorry for himself. He had gotten what the others hadn't, and he owed it to them to try.

Nodding resolutely, he crawled out of the lean-to, relieved that his arm was looking much better than the day before. The swelling was still present, but he could put a fair bit of weight onto his before it started protesting.

He checked his traps - which he had marked with a large stick stabbed into the ground beside each one - and wasn't too surprised that there wasn't any animals in them. He hadn't had much in the way of bait for them, too busy trying to get away from the Haunted Dumpster and Vok'Rul.

The thought of the dumpster made him recall something fuzzy from last night. Something about sap? Did these trees even have sap?

When he got back to his camp, he decided that tearing into a tree wasn't the worse idea - what else was there to do, other than going to search for more food and wasting energy in the process? - and proceeded to stab the snapped off end of his ladle into a nearby tree. He was lucky the ladle was metal and not plastic. If they even had plastic here.

Shaking his thoughts away, Viktor chopped at the tree until, sure enough, sap started to ooze out of the hole he had gouged. He touched it curiously, immediately regretting as it stuck to his skin like glue. Wiping his fingers on the ground only served to make his sticky fingers dirty.

"Ugh," he said, frowning. Yuck!

He scraped his fingers on the rocks he had kept, mildly surprised when it actually worked. The sap seemed to stick to the rocks really well.

He inspected the rock a little closer. The sap was green, which was interesting, but it was also flecked with some shiny random pieces of - Viktor didn't really know. Metal? That didn't make much sense but it was all he got.

The sap caught the light when he twisted the rock around, and he dropped the rock with a cry of surprise as the beam went straight into his eyes. Jesus, that was bright! It was like the time he had almost blinded himself when he looked at the sun through a magnifying glass-

Wait - that was how he'd get fire! Glass! If he could angle it right, the beam of light could surely light a fire!

Viktor laughed in excitement, pleased to have worked out that particular puzzle before he remembered that he didn't have glass.

"Damn," he muttered to himself, scratching his neck. The collar was dead weight on his neck. If only he could get it off. It'd certainly be more useful off of him. Tentative fingers wandered to the clasp at the back, but he couldn't work up the courage to actually pry it open.

Whatever, he had bigger things to think about. Like where he was going to get a chunk of glass.

He immediately thought of the windows on the mansion. Maybe he could shatter one and use that? But Viktor was reluctant - wandering around Vok'Rul's gardens was one thing but shattering the alien's windows was a bit more hardcore than he wanted it to be. He'd certainly get animal control called on him if he went that route.

He thought of the Haunted Dumpster with some trepidation, but he hadn't seen anything in there. Granted, he hadn't stuck around very long. Maybe they had a recycling bin somewhere?

Regardless, it meant more exploring near the mansion, which made him sigh loudly.

The trip to it was a little slower than normal with his throbbing arm, but he made do. The exercise made him warm up some, but he was still grateful when he stepped out of the trees to bask in the sun's warmth, feeble it may be. He needed better clothes. And a blanket. Make it an electric one.

"That'd be nice," he sighed, taking the time to survey the garden. Didn't seem to be anyone here. That was a relief. Maybe Vok'Rul would stay away, too. Even if the guy fed him and stuff, Viktor much preferred to be left alone.

He made a brief stop to drink some water before carefully picking his way over to the Haunted Dumpster. He didn't get close, eyeing it suspiciously. It didn't move - not that Viktor really expected it to - but it didn't seem to have a recycling companion either.

"Fuck it," he gritted his teeth, stepping over to it cautiously. He reached out and smacked the side of it before quickly retreating, holding his breath. It didn't react.

"Well, no shit, Viktor," he muttered to himself, feeling his shoulders relax. "It's a fucking dumpster."

He must have just had a mental break or something and imagined the whole thing. Frankly, it had been a long time coming.

He climbed in, quickly finding a beaten up container that he used to pile in bait for his traps - old meat and food scraps that he had to struggle not to gag at their smell - before he started hunting for a piece of glass. It was unlikely that he'd find one safely and even more unlikely that he'd find one period, so after an hour of digging, Viktor gave up.

His hands felt grimy, and he just knew he stunk, but there were more important things than hygiene right now.

Even if he was reminded that he hasn't showered in over two years. Ugh, yeah, not thinking about that.

Footsteps outside of the dumpster had him briefly panicking before he pushed himself into a corner of the dumpster, praying that he'd look dirty enough to not warrant a second glance. His prayers were answered when the alien simply chucked a basket of garbage into the dumpster and walked away. Viktor held his breath until he couldn't hear footsteps anymore.

"Phew, that was close," he muttered. He eyed the new pile of trash with disinterest before his breath caught in his throat.

There, sitting innocently on the top of the pile, was a broken window pane.

"Wow," he said simply, amazed at his luck. He carefully grabbed, snapping off a few pieces to put in his container of food. It was all shimmery and reminded him of a kaleidoscope. Hopefully, this worked. Otherwise...

No, he told himself firmly, climbing out of the dumpster with some difficulty. This was going to work. There was no otherwise.

Leaving the Haunted Dumpster behind, Viktor made his way to the fruit trees reluctantly. He didn't want to eat food with his hands so filthy, but he was hungry. Maybe he could wipe them on the grass? What he wouldn't do for a sink and some soap, though-

"Ro, Kohgrash!" Vok'Rul called carefully from behind him.

He froze, heart thundering in his chest. Kohgrash. Vok'Rul knew his name - did that mean that he knew where he came from? Had he been at the arena?

"Kohgrash!" he repeated cheerfully, as if Viktor's world wasn't collapsing on itself.

He whirled around to face the alien, snarling wordlessly even as his hands shook so badly that he almost dropped his container.

"Kohgrash?" Vok'Rul asked, slowing to a stop with confusion written all over his face. He had something in his hands, but Viktor didn't really care to figure out what.

"Stop!" he shouted in return, taking a few shaky steps back. "You aren't taking me back there." his voice was meant to be firm and loud, but it came out trembling and weak.

Vok'Rul hummed, regarding him with a tilted head. He slowly lowered himself to the ground, setting the - box? onto the ground. He patted it reassuringly. "Mor, cho'k, kas tih! Mor ta lyr. Ka tash!"

Viktor simply stared at him, clutching his own box tightly and trying to get his heart under control. When it became clear that Viktor wasn't going to move, Vok'Rul nudged the box an inch closer - which was comical, since he was nearly twenty feet away. Vok'Rul shuffled backward before he stood up, looking at him with that strange expression - kindness - before he turned around and left.

Viktor felt... weird.

The alien hadn't tried to grab him and ship him back to the arena despite knowing his name. Surely, they wouldn't have named some random animal in the arena Fido, so Kohgrash couldn't be a common name, could it? No, Vok'Rul didn't say it in the same way he said that other word, cho'k - with the air of someone who's muttered it at every stray animal that comes their way. He had said it with purpose, with the knowledge that Viktor would and should respond to it.

Vok'Rul knew his name. And hadn't taken him back to the arena.

Discomfited, Viktor warred with himself, staring at the strange box that Vok'Rul had so clearly wanted him to take. What if it was a trap? As soon as he neared it, would it spring and trap him? Surely, though, they would disguise a trap instead of trying to tempt him into one like this. First of all, there was no food. What sort of animal would go near a box with no food?

Viktor would. Now that his fear was lessening, his curiosity was taking its place. What was in that box?

He carefully set his box of goodies next to the - full - bowl by the tree and crept over to the box, half-expecting something to jump out and catch him. When he got close enough, he kicked it experimentally. It moved a bit, but it had some heft to it, which only sharpened his curiosity.

Courage gathered, Viktor peered into the box and blinked in surprise.

Inside were... clothes?

He grabbed one, pulling it and shaking it open. It was a sweater. The hell? Did they just have human-sized clothes for sale?

Well, they were pets. It made a little bit of sense.

But Viktor was confused. Why the fuck did Vok'Rul just give him some clothes? Not that he minded.

Mindful of his surroundings, Viktor wasted absolutely zero time taking off his battered shirt and pulling the sweater on. It was fuzzy, blue, and most importantly, warm. He hadn't even realized what parts of him were exposed until he was all covered.

Just because he could, he pulled on another sweater. This one was red. There was a pair of pants in the box, too, and Viktor pulled those on without hesitation. He kept his old clothes. They could be useful in the future.

At the bottom of the box was a thick blanket. Viktor's throat closed up.

Kindness was not something he's experienced much these past few years. If it wasn't staring him right in the face, he'd be convinced that he was just making things up. Rubbing an arm across his eyes harshly, Viktor snatched the blanket, too.

Maybe Vok'Rul had some sort of ulterior motive, but for now, Viktor would take things as they came. And maybe, just maybe, things would start to look up.

***

Getting the sun to hit the pieces of glass he had gathered just right was way harder than it sounded.

It didn't help that he was in the middle of a forest, he thought. He was in a clearing, but the trees overhead were grown with enough foliage that it made the whole area pretty shady. He had trekked through the forest until he found a spot with few trees and set to work.

He gathered small twigs and dry grass, bundling them up in a small pile, and held the glass over it.

Nothing had happened, of course, because Viktor was an idiot and couldn't hold glass correctly.

Getting the glass to catch the light was difficult, but it was harder to even get the beam concentrated for a second, let alone long enough for the grass to catch aflame. Still, it was something new to try, and Viktor kept at it for a long time until the ache in his legs grew to unbearable levels.

He couldn't figure out what he was doing wrong. It was just glass!

He collapsed into bed - and it was really starting to feel like a real one. He had bundled up his old clothes into a pillow, and the blanket Vok'Rul had given him kept him warm enough to keep from waking in the middle of the night - and stared up at his sticks with contempt.

The next morning, he woke up and was faced with his two cool-looking rocks, smeared with sap, and got an idea.

Getting enough sap to smear on the glass was a long and sticky affair but finally managed it before the sun could go down. With great concentration, Viktor angled the glass over his pile of dry grass and almost missed the point when it started to smoke.

"Holy shit," he breathed, barely daring to move. The smoky pile only grew, and when Viktor saw an orange flame, he shouted, "Holy shit!"

FIRE! Viktor could cry with joy! No more cold nights!

"Yes!" he laughed, accidentally jostling the glass and losing the beam. Still, the fire crackled, dancing with playfulness.

He needed to get this to his base!

After much care and burnt fingers, he scooped up the newborn fire and place it in his makeshift fire pit. He tentatively added small sticks, pleased beyond belief that the fire only continued to grow.

For a long, long time that night, he simply stared at the flame with a smile on his face.

His luck only increased after that. When he checked his traps the next morning - after feeding his fire again - there was a little animal caught in one. They stared at each other in shock before Viktor lunged forward, grabbing the rodent with his bare hands. It squealed and thrashed, biting his hand. It was only through multiple fights that Viktor trained his body not to jerk back reflexively in response to animal bites, so he kept ahold of it.

With a brief twinge of regret, Viktor snapped its neck. It wasn't efficient at all, and tears pricked in his eyes when he did it a second time. "Sorry," he whispered to its limp body. "Thank you."

He didn't have a knife, but he had glass, and wrapping up a chunk in his old shirt had him a makeshift knife. He stared at the small rodent - this one was no bigger than a squirrel, but it looked remarkably like that rat in the city. Maybe it was a mouse? - with some apprehension.

How the hell was he supposed to do this? He wasn't a butcher. Fuck, he barely knew where his own organs were. How was he supposed to know what to cut out in this alien animal's body?

He had to start somewhere, though, so with a deep breath, he pressed the knife into its body.

It was disgusting, and Viktor had mad respect for butchers and hunters by the time he was finished, but by the end of it, he had a few sloppily cut slices of meat and a whole bunch of extra bait.

He rigged up a skewer over the fire, spearing the chunks of mouse-squirrel meat on it, and carefully started his venture into cooking.

He burned it.

It wasn't his fault! He had thought they'd be fine if he went and replaced his trap with some fresh leaves and bait, but when he had come back, one side was very burnt and the other was very raw. It had cooked way quicker than he had thought.

He carefully cooked the other side and started eating.

It was gamey, smokey, and really tough to chew, but it was his first caught meal, and Viktor loved it.

He was throwing it back up twenty minutes later, leaning on a tree as he spewed his guts out.

At least it wasn't the other end, he thought ruefully, wiping his mouth with some disgust.

He must not have cooked it properly enough. Go figure.

The next day, he was hungry and thirsty enough to go back to the mansion despite having avoided it for the last few days in fear of Vok'Rul's sudden knowledge of his name. He shouldn't have been to terribly surprised when he noticed the alien reclining in a chair in the gardens, watching the fruit tree with the food bowl.

Viktor was behind him and could've easily gone the other way, but he cleared his throat awkwardly instead. The alien jolted, turning around in his chair to look at him with some confusion, which morphed into happiness.

That was weird. Vok'Rul was happy to see him? Viktor immediately grew suspicious.

"Rohsh," the alien whispered. That word again. A greeting, maybe?

"Hi," he said back. With an awkward smile, he continued, "Um, thanks. For the clothes and blanket." Because he wasn't completely uncivilized.

Vok'Rul smiled back - or at least, he tried. His smile was way too wide and there was too many teeth shown, and it was only because he remained seated in the chair that Viktor didn't immediately run the other way.

"Wow," he remarked, scratching underneath his collar with some difficulty. "That is terrifying. Please don't do that again."

Vok'Rul's eyes flickered down to his collar. "Ta ka sh drrsk, Kohgrash. Y'k jmri," he sighed. "Imrie ktyn imr awhs ta."

"Uh huh," Viktor responded slowly, baffled. He was still a bit nervous that this guy knew his name, but he was lounging in a chair right now, so surely, he wasn't going to shove him in a cage. So, Viktor carefully picked his way around the alien, keeping an ear and an eye on him as he made his way over to the tree.

He picked up the bowl, barely resisting the urge to just tip the entire thing's contents into his mouth. He ate quickly, never taking his eyes off of Vok'Rul, who watched him placidly. His fingers collided roughly with the bottom of the bowl, and he was disappointed to find out that he had finished the entire thing. He was still hungry.

But the pellets were dry. He licked his lips. He hummed, looking at the bowl briefly then back up at Vok'Rul. He clutched the bowl to his chest, carefully walking around Vok'Rul to the fountain. The alien moved to keep him in his sight but never got up from the chair, so Viktor wasn't that worried.

(Okay, maybe he was a bit worried. He didn't really like Vok'Rul's eyes on him all the time, but it was better than the tall motherfucker looming over him. So.)

He dipped the empty bowl into the water fountain, moving slowly and watching Vok'Rul the entire time in case he decided he didn't want Viktor to do that. But all the alien did was regard him curiously, so he figured it was fine. After filling the bowl, he carefully set it on the ground and proceeded to wash his hands vigorously. As soon as he got most of the dirt and sap off - and Jesus, it felt unreal - he dumped the water out to get a fresh bowl.

Vok'Rul made a weird humming noise, and Viktor squinted at him suspiciously. "What?" he barked when the alien didn't do much more than that. Vok'Rul tilted his head in response. "Never seen someone wash their hands before?" He wrinkled his nose at the alien.

But all Vok'Rul did was look at him serenely, and Viktor decided that he didn't really care about this weird alien. He went back to washing up.

He wished he had thought about this before, but better late than never, right? He cupped his hands into the bowl to splash some water on his face and went through the arduous task of trying to wash his hair. He couldn't really do that and watch Vok'Rul, so he ended up walking to the other side of the fountain. If the alien moved, there'd be a fountain in between them.

All he ended up doing was just getting his hair wet, really. The water was practically black by the time he finished, but he didn't feel particularly clean. Viktor would've liked to do that a few more times, but Vok'Rul decided that it was time for him to get out of his chair.

He jumped to his feet, holding the bowl threateningly.

But all the alien did was smile, say, "Zhesh," and meander back to the mansion. Viktor stared after him, a bit dumbstruck. He shrugged to himself and decided to take the opportunity for what it was and finish washing his hair.

His body ached by the time he was finished, crouched over in such an awkward position as he was, and the sun was dipping uncomfortably low to the horizon. If he wanted to get back to his camp without struggling through the darkness of the night, he'd have to leave soon.

But washing his hair made him feel a bit more normal. It wasn't perfect - Viktor knew that if he ever wanted to reenter civilization (even though the thought of never entering civilization scaled him), he'd likely have to shave it all off. But at least it only sort of smelled like garbage now.

By the time he returned, the fire was merely embers and it took a while for him to get it back up to flames. He was tired, but semi-clean and pleased with himself.

It was a few more days until he wandered back to the mansion in search of water. He'd managed to catch one more mouse-squirrels, and this time, cooking them up seemed to go alright. He hadn't thrown it back up, at least.

Collecting firewood had proved a bit of a challenge, since he didn't really have an axe. He almost feared that he'd run his supply of sticks to the ground before he remembered that he could just snap them off trees instead of picking up the ones on the ground. Still, getting enough sticks and shreds of bark for the fire was a struggle since they were so small and burned up pretty quickly.

His glass knife was the best thing he got, but he didn't fancy cutting himself on it in the name of chopping a tree down, so he refrained from doing anything too crazy.

He dumped his supply of sticks on the fire before he returned to the mansion. It'd last for a while. Maybe he could find something better than his makeshift knife to chop some trees. He could get a better shelter going, too.

Vok'Rul wasn't out in the garden when he got there, but after drinking and eating his fill, Viktor heard the mansion door opening and saw the alien in question making his way over to him. He got to his feet and watched the alien warily.

The alien was clearly delighted to see him, and Viktor wondered if he spied on the garden and just waited for his appearance. It would make an alarming sort of sense, considering the alien always seemed to just know that he was around.

He was very talkative today. Viktor only knew a handful of words - and his vocabulary was slowly growing despite his hermit nature - but Vok'Rul was talking so fast that even if he were fluent in alien-ese, he wouldn't have been able to follow along. The only reason that Viktor knew he was talking to him was because his name was thrown in a few times.

And then, in the middle of his monologing, Vok'Rul started to get irritated, snapping his jaws and lashing his tail like a pissed-off cat. Viktor nervously backed up to the fruit tree - whose fruit had finally gone dry; he was really lucky he had figured out fire when he did, even if his stomach was protesting the lack of food - but stuck around. He knew, objectively, that Vok'Rul wasn't mad at him, he was only mad at whatever the hell made him mad. Still, it made him nervous to be around a raging alien, if only because it was often he who suffered the brunt of their rage.

Vok'Rul noticed - because of course he did - and quieted his rage, crossing his legs and sitting on the floor with a heavy sigh. He placed his hands palms up on his knees and leaned forward, staring at him.

"Pora, Kohgrash," he cooed, not moving a muscle. "Imrie ktyn 'blh'n rreki tash kry." He gestured to his neck slowly before his hands returned to their spots on his knees. Viktor grabbed his collar in response, digging his fingers underneath it.

His skin had long since fused to the prongs of the collar. They had dug their way into his skin, chafing and clawing, and Viktor knew that even if he could get the collar unclasped, it would be hell on Earth to pry it from his neck.

Vok'Rul said a few other words, pleased that Viktor had somehow understood what he was talking about (which was a lie; Viktor didn't have a damn clue), and leaned forward, getting to his knees in order to shuffle forward.

Viktor bared his teeth, "Stay away, you bastard." The alien didn't listen, though, and continued to make his way toward Viktor.

And it wasn't like Viktor was really under threat - the alien was a ways away and Viktor was on his feet, for God's sake - but he still grabbed the metal dish and chucked it straight at the alien.

It clanged off the alien's chest satisfactorily, but then he caught it before it could drop to the ground, and Viktor was suddenly nervous. Would he throw it back in retaliation?

But Vok'Rul just chuckled wryly, moving back to sit. Viktor relaxed somewhat, cursing himself for giving up the bowl. He had planned to wash his face again!

Viktor watched with interest as Vok'Rul pulled out another bag of food from his pockets and dumped it into the bowl. He was less interested when the alien put the bowl out in front of him, nudging it forward just slightly, and made no move to retreat so Viktor could get it. He leveled an unimpressed stare at the alien.

"Pora," he said cheerfully, gesturing for him to come here. Some of the familiar revulsion crawled up his throat at the reminder of the arena.

Viktor crossed his arms carefully. His arm still twinged. "No way. You're an idiot if you think that'll work."

But Viktor was hungry. Small strips of mouse-squirrel meat were not very filling, even supplemented by the bowls of food he ate here and there. He took a few steps forward, watching the alien carefully. He didn't move.

"If you even blink wrong, I'm leaving," he told him. Vok'Rul blinked.

He inched forward, wishing he had brought his spoon with him just in case. He was reluctant to hurt Vok'Rul - the guy fed him, after all - but he wasn't opposed to defending himself if it came to it. But he didn't. He just had his fists. Just like old times, he thought sardonically.

He stepped just out of Vok'Rul's reach. If the alien were to lunge forward, Viktor would surely get caught, but so far, he's remained perfectly still.

Viktor bared his teeth at the alien preemptively to warn him against doing anything and slowly reached forward to grab the bowl. Vok'Rul smiled.

"Rohsh," he whispered, and Viktor jumped in fright, snatching the bowl and taking a few hasty steps backward before he registered that he wasn't being followed. He shot the alien a grumpy look.

"Fuck you," he muttered, shoving a fistful of pellets into his mouth. Vok'Rul looked amused.

The days following that interaction went quickly. Viktor spent his days looking over his traps - which were slowly starting to fill up, much to his delight - and collecting sticks. When he wasn't doing that, he was trekking through the woods to the gardens, drinking water, and eating Vok'Rul out of house and home.

More often than not, Vok'Rul took the bowl from Viktor - which was remarkably easy for the alien, considering Viktor abandoned whatever he was doing as soon as the alien started walking toward him - and filled it up with a second serving only to place it in front of himself. If Viktor wanted food - which he did - he'd have to get uncomfortably close to the bastard.

"I know what you're doing," he told him one time, trying to play off the fearful trembling in his hands to something reasonable like the cold. "It's not going to work."

But Vok'Rul just smiled at him and let him eat.

Viktor was quickly gaining weight, which made the miserable nights - even with his fire - a bit less miserable. It meant that he could stand up without black spots swimming at the edges of his vision due to a combined effort of starvation and dehydration. It meant he could stick out the nights a bit longer than he had been. Meant he could defend himself a bit better.

One day, after about a month of this strange tango they were participating in together, Vok'Rul brought out a large box. Viktor watched suspiciously from the fountain as he set it up near the fruit tree. It was much bigger than the box he had brought out the clothes in and looked to be made of much tougher material. Maybe Viktor could steal it.

No. Stealing is bad when it's from the nice alien who's feeding him. No stealing.

After Vok'Rul stopped messing with the box - and whatever was inside - he stepped away, sitting in his customary chair which was way too close to the tree for Viktor's liking. But, he reckoned, it meant that the alien wasn't going to try to get Viktor to come close. A win-win, he thought.

Vok'Rul obviously wanted to watch him inspect the box, as he made the gesture to come here and gestured to the box, speaking quickly and loudly. Viktor knew that meant he was excited. The alien was remarkably attentive to Viktor's discomfort and had picked up pretty quickly that loud noises startled him just as much as sudden ones and attempted to speak in low tones or even whispers to accommodate him.

Which was nice, even if it confused him. Why did he put all this effort into, as far as the alien knew, a random stray in his backyard? But Viktor wasn't going to complain, especially if it meant a continued source of food.

Still, sometimes, he felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Viktor picked his way over, barely giving Vok'Rul a glance before he crept closer to the box.

It looked like a crate, which didn't impress Viktor too much, but walking around the thing revealed that it wasn't a cage crate. It was just an open-sided box. What confused him, though, was what was inside.

It looked like... a pet bed. Like, the kinds someone would get for their dogs.

He looked back at Vok'Rul suspiciously. "What is this?" he asked, kicking the bed with his foot. The alien tilted his head.

"Ka tash," he said, which Viktor probably figured meant "yours" or something, considering he had repeated the phrase whenever the alien gave him something.

Viktor rolled his eyes but turned back to the box. He pulled it onto its side so that the opening was facing him. The bed slouched forward like a sad sack of flour, and Viktor straightened it out. It was soft. Really soft. Oh man, this would be epic at his camp. A real bed along with his blanket? He'd sleep like a king!

Hesitantly, with another glance at Vok'Rul, Viktor decided to sit on it. It was a little cramped in the box, but it protected him from the breeze so he wasn't too fussed about that. He ran his hands over the bed, feeling the soft woolly texture with some amazement. It was wonderful.

"Is this really mine?" he asked him. Vok'Rul perked up when he spoke. "Like, you're not gonna ask for my first born child for it or something, are you?"

"Prosh," Vok'Rul said instead, smiling. He said a few other words, tone tilting up in a question, but Viktor had no clue what he was asking.

Viktor harrumphed. He slowly lowered himself onto the bed fully, not quite sure if he should be completely horizontal while Vok'Rul was so close. The alien wasn't moving, though, so he figured it would be okay.

The bed was really soft. It sucked up his heat like no tomorrow, keeping him warm. If he had a blanket, he'd be in heaven.

He jolted back into awareness when something scraped against the ground, making a loud, grumpy noise in the back of his throat. His head felt fuzzy, like he had just dropped into sleep before being rudely awakened by an alarm clock.

Oh, God. Did he fall asleep?

Vok'Rul made a low shushing noise, picking up the empty food dish Viktor had set down nearby. Viktor quickly sat up, wary. He was still blinking sleep from his eyes. "Byr to mrio, Kohgrash'mrr'k," he said gently, reaching out.

And no matter how tired and warm Viktor was, he was not going to let Vok'Rul just touch him, for God's sake! He smacked the offending hand away from him, a bit confused when Vok'Rul just laughed and retreated with the dish. He watched him go. Where was he taking the dish?

Viktor blinked blearily, knowing that he should probably go back to his camp, but there was still enough time in the day to enjoy this new novelty. He was sinking back into the bed before he could think better of it, swiftly falling into sleep.

He woke up to darkness, a blanket thrown over his body, and a full food dish sitting innocently in front of him.

It took Viktor a long time to go back to the mansion after that.

It had been so comfortable, that bed and the warmth and the safety he had felt. Viktor didn't know much, but he knew that aliens weren't to be trusted, and Vok'Rul was no exception to this. And yet, he had fallen asleep with him nearby, not once, but twice? Viktor didn't like that.

He didn't like that at all.

But thirst was getting the better of him, and getting his water from his trapped kills wasn't a really viable way to live, considering he had fallen over three times upon waking that morning and hadn't taken a piss since two days ago. He needed water. Unfortunately!

"Stupid body," he said, licking his lips and trying to get rid of the dry feeling in his mouth and throat. He tromped through the woods with little care of being sneaky. He hasn't seen a guard in forever, so he could only assume that they'd been told to fuck off from the gardens. It didn't matter to Viktor.

His hands were clumsy bringing water to his mouth, but he figured it out eventually. His sweaters were soaked with his attempt, though, and now he was cold. Right, eat the food, and then curl up with the blanket back at camp.

"Kohgrash!" Vok'Rul said with a note of relief in his voice. Viktor stared at his wavy reflection, wondering if he could drown himself before the alien got over here. "Rohsh, cho'k!"

"He's feeding you," he told his reflection who stared glumly back. "He's feeding you!"

He jumped to his feet - only needing to brace himself against the stone for a brief second as dizziness overwhelmed him - and watched as the alien walked up to him without a care for Viktor's personal space.

Well, that was a lie. The alien stopped about several feet in front of him.

He crouched down, beaming at him. He looked so damn cheerful for no reason. Viktor scowled at him. The alien made an 'aww'ing noise. "Ta ka rrah mr, Kohgrash? Flakmnn!" he laughed.

Viktor was no genius, but he got the distinct feeling that he was being laughed at. He crossed his arms.

"Preying on the innocent is not a good look," he retorted, glaring at the alien. He didn't think about how Vok'Rul had done the complete opposite of preying. Giving him a blanket and a full dish of food screamed good samaritan.

"I'm a poor, starved animal," he continued. He watched with intrigue as Vok'Rul brought something out of his pockets, taking a half-step forward to get a better look. "And you're just laughing at me. Not cool."

Vok'Rul held a purple star-shaped... thing. It was obviously food, considering Vok'Rul waved it tantalizingly and cooed, "Norish."

"Okay," Viktor said with interest, taking another step forward. It wasn't the closest he's been to the alien, but he kinda wanted to check out that food. "But what for?" he wondered out loud. usually, whenever Vok'Rul wanted him to get close, it was for a reason. Though, he supposed that it hasn't escalated beyond just trying to get Viktor used to Vok'Rul, but a man could never be too skeptical.

But Vok'Rul simply stretched his hand forward slowly, and Viktor reckoned that he could throw caution to the wind just this once. If the alien hadn't snatched him up while he slept, he could be trusted with forking over some food.

Despite this thought, it took Viktor, like, five minutes to edge close enough to snatch the purple starfruit out of Vok'Rul's hands. The alien looked earnest like he was waiting for something.

Viktor eyed him suspiciously before turning his attention to the food. Some things quickly became very clear: it was sticky as fuck and it smelled absolutely delicious.

Viktor dug his thumbs into its skin, pulling it apart. He popped a piece into his mouth and almost passed away due to the taste. "Mmm!" he couldn't help but hum his appreciation, chewing readily. It tasted like strawberries and had much more flavor than the sugar-apples he's been missing. It was juicy, too, and Viktor appreciated the extra water.

Just as he was about to bite into the fruit, he spotted something white poking out of it. He dug his fingers into it, wondering if he had just accepted a fruit with some sort of alien worm in it, and grabbed it.

He pulled out a pill.

He stared at Vok'Rul, who looked only marginally guilty and more resigned that he had found it. Viktor could finally understand what it meant to see red.

Snarling, he chucked the rest of the fruit at the alien's face, only a little satisfied when it splattered across his face. "Fuck you!" he shouted, throat closing up. He grabbed at his collar, yanking it down harshly as he struggled to get air in. "I trusted you!"

Vok'Rul sighed, wiping off dripping excess from his face. "Ta ka to awshk, Kohgrash'mrr," he mumbled, half to himself.

But Viktor wasn't listening. His eyes burned with betrayal, and he turned around sharply, unwilling to even lay eyes on the fucker. "Stupid fucking aliens!" he snarled and was surprised to hear a sob rip out of his lips. He wiped his eyes, making a hasty retreat.

Stupid Vok'Rul. Stupid fruit. Stupid planet!

He wallowed. There was no better word for it. It's been two months since he had escaped the arena, and despite all he's accomplished, it all felt pointless. He was hopeless.

Why even bother trying? Food was getting harder to come by unless he wanted to spend time with Vok'Rul. Water was practically impossible to get unless he wanted to spend time with Vok'Rul. Everything had to do with that fucking alien bastard.

He threw his arm over his eyes, letting out a huge sigh. Betrayal was nothing new to him - Lilac had been one of the first aliens he's had to deal with, but there had been a few employees who intended to win their hearts with kindness only to stomp their hope in the dirt. He shouldn't have expected anything different from Vok'Rul.

But - god damn it - he had. He really had.

He let himself cry. There was just no stopping it.

The next morning, Viktor went through the motions. He got up, checked his traps, made his fire, collected sticks, attempted to saw through a larger branch with his spoon handle, and tried not to think about Vok'Rul.

He failed on that last one. On the last two, actually. Dumb branch.

When Viktor managed to push through the angry feeling of betrayal, he had to wonder why Vok'Rul had attempted to give him a pill. Was it supposed to knock him out? Surely, they would've used the tranqs that he knew this world had if they wanted to sedate him so badly. Though, maybe that was only for zoos and... illicit fighting rings. Ugh.

But why? Had Vok'Rul wanted to take him to- to a vet or something? Viktor knew that he wasn't likely to get ship him off to the arena. If that had been the alien's main goal, he would've tried a lot harder. If he were smart, that is.

So, probably a vet, then. He scratched at his collar. Why the vet?

He wasn't going to get his answers any time soon. Viktor sighed.

Viktor didn't go to the mansion during the day. He needed water, and despite his best efforts, he hadn't found a source besides the fountain. So, when the moon was high in the sky and the last of the warmth of the world had been sucked out from the sun's absence, he snuck into the garden to drink his fill from the fountain.

He saw the dish of food, piled high with pellets, fruit, and some weird strips of jerky. He didn't touch any of it, despite his grumbling stomach. He didn't want Vok'Rul to know that he was still around.

It was better this way - better for the alien to simply forget about his presence. He didn't deserve any better, betraying Viktor as he had. So, he stuck to nights to get his water and barely managed to survive on the meager bounty his traps were harvesting.

Fuck, he thought one morning when he woke up to his stomach practically shrieking at him, who was he kidding? He was fucking starving.

It hadn't even been two weeks since his - what, fight? Argument? - with Vok'Rul, but he seriously thought he might die.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said out loud, wrapping himself up in the blanket. The ground was cold, and he was shaking more than usual, struggling to keep in the heat. "I can last longer."

But when he went to the mansion when night fell, he couldn't resist picking up one slice of jerky. Just a taste. It tasted delicious. Smoked mouse-squirrel meat was definitely lacking compared to this jerky. Surely, Vok'Rul wouldn't notice.

He noticed. He definitely noticed.

The next day found Viktor eyeing the overflowing dish, torn between amusement and anger. Food was spilling over the edges, jerky, pellets, and fruit included, and was definitely more than Viktor could eat in a single sitting. Jeez, did this guy sit down every day and count each piece of food to see if Viktor had eaten any?

That was... kinda sad, actually.

"Don't feel bad for him," he told himself, already feeling bad.

Viktor picked at the threads of his sweater, frowning. Maybe the alien had just wanted to help. Even if it was hard to believe. He could admit that going to a doctor - veterinarian or not - would likely have benefitted him immensely. His arm still twinged when he pushed on it with an extreme amount of force, which made climbing a bit difficult. He had definitely felt worse, though.

But Viktor didn't need the help - he was doing fine on his own. Perfectly, one hundred percent fine.

His stomach rumbled, and he struggled to tear his eyes away from the pile of overflowing food.

"Kohgrash?" a familiar voice rumbled, heavy with sleep and brittle hope. Viktor jumped in fright, whirling around to find the source.

Vok'Rul was sitting in his chair, forgotten book on his lap. Had he seriously fallen asleep out here waiting up for him? That was dangerous!

Viktor recoiled at his thoughts. Why should he care for the well-being of this alien?

Because he feeds you and is the only nice alien you've ever met, something of his snidely replied. Viktor fought not to roll his eyes, if only to keep them on the very still alien.

He was looking at him earnestly, wide-eyed, and pleading. He was awake now, clearly waiting for Viktor to make the next move.

Viktor bared his teeth threateningly at the alien, hoping that his warning of don't move came across. He wasn't sure it worked really well, considering the alien simply smiled in return as he shifted in his seat, but he didn't move after that. Viktor called it a win.

"Rohsh," he whispered. Viktor crossed his arms for a moment before dropping them at his sides, hands curling into fists. 

"Why'd you do that? What gave you the right to do that?!" he demanded, horrified at the way his voice shook. "I trusted you, you stupid bastard!" 

Despite their language barrier, it seemed that Vok'Rul understood. He looked beyond guilty and said, "Flakmnn, cho'k. Flakmnn'sh." 

Viktor decided that the word meant sorry simply because he could not think of anything else the alien would say while looking that miserable. He stared at him sullenly, half-expecting the alien to start laughing at him - the mighty Kohgrash, fooled by an alien yet again, look how miserable he is! - and desperately hoping it to be true. True that Vok'Rul really was sorry, and that this hadn't been some giant ploy to take him back to the arena, to make him fight again, to put him in another cage.

He wanted to believe it, so badly. So bad it almost hurt. 

Vok'Rul looked just as upset as he was. He kept murmuring that word over and over again, not allowing himself to move but keeping his eyes on Viktor all the same. Viktor took great heaving breaths before he could dissolve into sobs - he was just so frustrated - and leveled a glare at the alien. 

"I can't forgive you right now," he said quietly. Vok'Rul leaned forward to hear his words, and Viktor bared his teeth again. The alien immediately stilled. "But if you're really sorry - you'll prove it. Or- Or-" 

Or what? Viktor couldn't leave this safe haven, but it wasn't like Vok'Rul knew that. He crossed his arms, staring at Vok'Rul. 

The alien blinked slowly and carefully grabbed something out of his pocket. Viktor tensed, but when the alien pulled out a purple starfruit, he relaxed somewhat. Vok'Rul made to toss it over, and Viktor held out his hands expectantly. Looking a little surprised, the alien threw it. 

And when Viktor tore it open, finding no traces of any pill, Vok'Rul smiled with uncertain hope, and just as gingerly, Viktor smiled back.

***

It was getting colder, which both did and didn't surprise Viktor. 

On one hand, of course it got colder because what was his luck without some disaster happening when things were going his way? But on the other hand, it was fucking winter, it was supposed to get cold. 

Didn't mean he liked it. Viktor much preferred the winter indoors. 

He had the brilliant idea of weaving some large leaves in between his lean-to sticks and that blocked out most of the breezes and chill. Which he appreciated. 

But the ground. God, the ground. 

His blanket wasn't big enough to lie on it and have some of it covering himself, so he often had to choose between laying on the ground - and his makeshift, pitiful leaf bed - or laying on his blanket. Most times, he chose to cuddle up with the blanket, but that meant exposing parts of his body to the frigid ground. Which was not cool. 

(Ugh, Viktor could see the irony in that one.) 

Regardless, after he and Vok'Rul had - essentially - made up, the days went by a bit quicker. Though, that could've been due to the regular meals he was getting. He had a lot more energy to go and do things rather than sitting in his lean-to and feeling sorry for himself. He made more and more traps - more and more chances for him to get nothing, but traps nonetheless - and scrounged around the woods for sticks and leaves. He had a pretty sizeable pile. If he skipped a day of gathering sticks, he'd probably be fine. 

Honestly, the hardest part of maintaining this fire was during the night. He always had to pile on the sticks and carefully arrange rocks around the fire to ensure it stayed in one place. Despite Vok'Rul's... fondness? care? affection? for him, he was pretty sure the guy wouldn't appreciate a forest fire in his backyard. 

Honestly, it was a wonder no one had come to investigate his camp yet. Though, he reckoned, his fire never got big enough to send off copious amounts of smoke. By the time it reached the tops of trees, the smoke had dissipated, especially when it was windy. 

 Regardless, it was fucking cold. Viktor was, just a little, completely and utterly miserable. 

When he trekked up to the mansion one day, limbs slow and heavy the farther he got from his fire, it was to Vok'Rul lounging in his chair with another book. He hadn't gotten a good look at it the last time, but Viktor knew they were wildly different from Earthly books. These were holographic! It was pretty cool. 

The alien looked completely at ease in the cold weather. While Viktor wrapped his arms around himself and trembled in the frigid weather, the alien didn't even bat an eye. He didn't even have a coat on. Lucky bastard. 

"Hey," he said, calling the alien's attention. As always, he brightened, closing - switching off? - his book. The alien gestured to the fountain, where he had moved the food dish indefinitely. He started babbling endlessly, probably telling Viktor about whatever it was he did. 

Sometimes, he wondered what the alien did. There were days when he made the journey up here to find him missing. And while the food dish was always full, Viktor could admit that he sort of missed the alien's presence. 

If only to have someone watching his back while he ate, he assured himself. Not because of anything like... fondness. 

Only after he picked the bowl clean and drank his fill did Vok'Rul call out to catch his attention. He looked over suspiciously. "What?" he asked. 

Vok'Rul looked concerned - more concerned than his eating habits warranted - and it was then that he realized he was shaking like a fucking leaf. He rubbed his hands together, suddenly freezing. "It's just cold," he muttered, blowing hot air into them. "You may be lucky enough not to be affected, but us lowly humans are not. I don't even have fur." 

Vok'Rul abruptly stood up, murmuring apologies when Viktor jumped in fright at the sudden movement. He held out his hand in a stay motion before practically running back to the mansion. Bemused, Viktor waited. 

It had been midday when the alien went inside, and by the time the sun had cleaved through the sky to about halfway to the horizon, Viktor gave up. He was freezing his ass off out here! He wasn't going to wait any longer. He had a fire to cuddle up next to. 

He hadn't really expected anything to come of that. Vok'Rul was strange, that much was certain. He wasn't like any of the other aliens Viktor had met. 

So, it didn't really come as a surprise when he found a giant house sitting innocently in the gardens the next time he made the trip. 

Okay, it wasn't giant. It was nowhere near the size of the actual mansion behind it, but it was pretty big. He had to crane his neck to look at the whole thing.

"Okay," he mumbled, putting his hands on his hips and eyeballing the house with exasperation. "What the fuck is this." 

There was no better word for it than mini-mansion. It was as if the mansion behind him had shrunk down and duplicated itself. Viktor carefully walked forward, skeptical. The entire thing was about twice his size. The doorway was large enough so that he could walk in unimpeded. He pushed it open, noting that it didn't seem to have a latch like a regular door. 

As soon as he did so, lights flicked on. Viktor mouthed what the fuck to himself before simply saying it out loud, "What the fuck!" 

When he looked inside to see the bed he's not touched in forever, Viktor was struck with one thought: this was a fucking doghouse. 

A heated doghouse, he amended, getting a faceful of heat. As much as he longed to scurry inside, he knew better. 

This thing, remarkably, had fucking windows - not made of glass, but rather a shiny plastic - and he peeked inside, trying to get a view of the inside and doorway from another angle. What was to say that this thing would spring as soon as he stepped in? As much as he tentatively trusted Vok'Rul - the alien hasn't pulled any tricks lately - he still remembered what tricks he has pulled. 

He went around the back, finding the cord he assumed powered the whole thing. He traced it back up to the mansion. He huffed. Surely, Vok'Rul had better things to do with his money than spending it on some extravagant doghouse with heating and lights? Fuck, it was practically a condo! 

Whatever. Viktor wasn't going to complain. 

Peering through the windows in the back told him the entire place was innocuous. He slowly made his way back to the front, took a breath, and stepped in. 

The house wasn't that much bigger on the inside despite the facade. He could stand up in here, but stretching his arms up only mean he could bend them halfway up before they reached the ceiling. Still, it was pretty crazy. 

And it was crazy warm. 

He shut the door cautiously, waited for a second, and yanked it back open. He let out a sigh of relief when he realized that he could come and go freely. That was good. Great, even. 

It was then that excitement started bubbling up inside him. He had a house! With heat! He sat down on the bed, pulling the blanket Vok'Rul must've placed in here also over his legs. 

He felt tears prick his eyes as his limbs slowly defrosted. How long had it been since he could really, and he means really, feel his toes? A long time, he felt. A really long time. 

He scrubbed his face with his arm. Vok'Rul was so fucking nice. Viktor didn't deserve this. 

He crawled out of the house before he could fall asleep - it was tempting, extremely so, but it was the middle of the day, and Viktor wanted to collect some sticks before bed - and ate an obscene amount of food. Considering it was practically his only meal of the day, he didn't feel as bad stuffing his face with reckless abandon. He placed the empty bowl on the porch of his house. 

Viktor snorted at the sight of it. Jesus Christ. 

He got pretty lucky, he mused later on in the day, trudging through the woods with renewed vigor - who knew that warming up your entire body gave you more energy? - that he had gotten some sort of rich bachelor as- 

As what? A friend? Viktor wouldn't go that far. 

Or maybe he would. The dude bought him a house. A doghouse, but still, a house. 

That night, he was torn. Now that he knew there was a plush bed with heat waiting for him in the garden, did he really want to spend the night in his shitty stick tent with shitty insulation and an even shittier bed? No, the answer is no. 

But the last time he had slept in the gardens, in that bed, Vok'Rul had been able to sneak up on him and touch him. 

But the door shut. He could jam it shut with some sticks and his body, couldn't he? Then, no one would be able to touch him. 

But if someone pried the house open - because surely, there was a way to open it up that didn't involve the door - he'd have no way out. 

"Ugh," he muttered, mulishly kicking some dirt into the fire, half hoping that it would splutter and die so his choice would be chosen for him. It lived. A breeze shot through him. He shuddered. "Fuck it, I'm going," he told his fire. He grabbed his blanket and wrapped it around himself. It wouldn't hurt to have an extra blanket. 

He kept that thought in mind as the blanket tried to snag on every fucking branch he passed. Stupid blanket. 

No one was around when he crawled into the house and collapsed on the bed, shoving his entire body against the door and basking in the warmth, but that was to be expected. It was nighttime and any sensible alien would be asleep. 

So, when something knocked against the window as he was falling asleep, Viktor damn near had a heart attack. 

He whipped around as best he could, legs tangled doubly so in two blankets. Vok'Rul was peering eagerly through the window, and if Viktor were honest, looking absolutely fucking terrifying. 

"Get away from the window!" he shouted, heart pounding in his chest. The alien was cast in shadow, only barely illuminated by the mansion's perpetual glow. It made him look like a fucking horror movie wannabe, but it was terrifying all the same. 

Vok'Rul beamed at him, showing all his teeth in a smile, and if Viktor had woken up to that, he probably would have passed away. 

Viktor made a shooing motion and by some miracle, the alien understood, stepping backward and out of Viktor's sight. "What's to bet he'll leave me alone?" he muttered to himself, already getting out of the comfortably warm bed and opening the door. The lights flicked on at the motion, and he squinted against them blearily. 

"What d'you want?" he grouched, irritated that he had interrupted his sleep. Vok'Rul immediately started speaking when he caught sight of him, tone pitching up in excitement. He gestured to the house and then to him before spreading his arms wide. There was movement behind him, and a quick glance told Viktor that his tail was wagging! He didn't know they could do that! 

"Your tail," he laughed, pointing at it. Vok'Rul whirled around, and he was just close enough that Viktor had to scramble out of the way to avoid it. Laughter bubbled out of him despite himself. "Hey, watch it!" 

 Vok'Rul whipped back around, luckily in the opposite direction so Viktor didn't have to duck back inside the house. He pointed at him, exclaiming, "Kohgrash! Ta shr'jjy!"

"Uh huh," he grinned up at the alien. "Hey, thanks for the house. It's, um, warm." He patted the porch. 

But Vok'Rul must not have gotten that particular message, because his eyes traveled to the empty food dish instead. He brightened, as if pleased he understood what Viktor was trying to say. "Norish?" he questioned, pointing at the bowl and creeping forward slowly. 

Viktor grew tense but he didn't withdraw. If Vok'Rul was going to get closer to grab the bowl, he wasn't going to retreat into the house where the only exit was blocked by a giant alien. If Vok'Rul attempted to grab him, he'd have options by remaining halfway out of the house. For good measure, though, he shed the blankets and stood up cautiously. 

Vok'Rul froze upon his movement, but as soon as it became clear that Viktor was bolting, started moving again. "Tas tih," he cooed, taking another step and crouching down. He was close enough that Viktor could reach out and touch him. His heart was in his throat. 

Viktor didn't say anything, merely watching as Vok'Rul reached out and grabbed the empty dish. He pulled it closer to him, the scrape of the bowl against the plastic porch grating against his ears. Viktor twitched. 

"Kas tih," Vok'Rul murmured, letting go of the bowl and digging into his shirt pocket. He pulled out a bag of pellets. Viktor squinted at him. 

"You just keep those in there?" he asked. He jumped when Vok'Rul looked at him but forced himself to remain where he was. The alien grinned at him. Spooky. "Stop that." 

The alien ripped the bag open, dumping its contents into the bowl. Just the sound made him hungry. When he was finished, the alien picked up the bowl and held it out to him. Viktor regarded him warily. Why couldn't he just leave the bowl on the porch and let Viktor eat in peace? 

Still, it wasn't like Vok'Rul was going to attack him with both hands occupied by the bowl, so, carefully, Viktor grabbed the bowl. 

His fingers brushed against Vok'Rul's much larger, much deadlier ones. They were dry but didn't feel like scales, like he had half expected. He didn't give himself much time to consider that, though, because he snatched the bowl to his chest protectively. 

"Thanks," he said slowly, wondering why the alien was still just crouching there. Didn't he need sleep or something?

Vok'Rul extended his hand, speaking softly. Viktor frowned at it. Did he want a piece of his food or something? He shifted the bowl in his grip, grabbing one and dropping it onto Vok'Rul's open palm. The alien blinked in bewilderment. 

"Yeah, you're welcome," Viktor said, putting as much pomp in his voice as he could muster. "Took me a long time to get that. Seven shifts at work, y'know. Man, I'm beat. Speaking of which, leave. So I can sleep." 

Vok'Rul smiled at him, closing his fingers around the pellet before shuffling backward and standing up. He said, "Zhesh, Kohgrash'mrr'k," before mercifully leaving Viktor alone. 

He crawled back into the house after eating all of the food and watching Vok'Rul go back into the mansion. He looked at his hands and thought about how it was the first time he had touched an alien without getting hurt in return. 

***

The house was cozy and warm. The only thing that had Viktor wary was its barely-defensible position in the middle of the gardens. Sure, there were plants and things next to it, but any alien could get it and therefore, get to Viktor. 

He was reluctant to leave it, too - the house was all things perfect. Perfect bed, perfect temperature, perfect everything. Just the thought of going back to his camp with his meager fire and shitty leaf bed was enough to make him scowl. 

So, without hardly any thought to it, Viktor... moved in. 

He retrieved his glass panes - and makeshift glass knife - his broken spoon, some cool rocks, and said goodbye to his home for the past - what had it been now, three and a half months? He didn't think he'd miss it. 

Now, though, he had the displeasure to figure out how he was going to make his heated house safe. 

Pushing it proved fruitless. The thing was heavy. He only managed to push it an inch before his limbs were trembling with exertion. What was their plastic made out of?! Concrete?! 

It was in the worst spot, too. Right in the middle of the garden. The fountain was nearby, but there was enough space between the house and the stone wall for him to feel uncomfortable leaving it unguarded. So, pushing it himself was out of the question. 

Maybe he could play charades with Vok'Rul, but the alien was more likely to shove it closer to his house than anywhere else. 

Maybe he could invent the first pulley system on another planet? Or at least, using leverage in the shape of a stick attached to the house. But that didn't sound as wicked as pulley system, so. Pulley System (Viktor's Version) it is! That'd get him in the history books for sure. But first, he'd need some supplies... which meant braving the Haunted Dumpster one last time. 

It looked just as unassuming as last time. At least it smelled miles better. 

"Back again, Dumpster," he said out loud, glancing over his shoulder to ensure that he was alone in the garden. There was some noise in the front of the mansion, but Viktor had never been over there, and there were large hedges separating the front and back ends, so he figured he was safe. The only entrance to the back was through the large fence the dumpster was next to, which, he assumed, was for alien dump trucks.

"I'm looking for rope, and a really sturdy stick. Though, you probably don't have the stick," he said conversationally in an attempt to belie his nerves. "You've got rope in here, right? Do these aliens have rope?" 

He scaled it deftly, peering inside with a wrinkled nose. There wasn't as much stuff in here as last time, which could be both good and bad, but Viktor was determined to find some rope - or something similar, at the very least. Or die trying! 

After hours of trudging through the Dumpster with little sign of ghosts or rope, Viktor gave up. His hands were caked with... things he didn't want to think about. Rotten food and other weird junk. As he climbed out of the Dumpster, a thought occurred to him that maybe he was going about this all wrong. Rope wasn't something thrown away all that often, was it? Maybe there was a shed somewhere that stored all sorts of stuff Viktor could use to move his house. 

But he hadn't seen a garden shed during his explorations. He hasn't ventured too close to the mansion, though, so it could be hidden somewhere nearby. Just the thought of going close to unknown aliens - Vok'Rul notwithstanding - made him itchy. He scratched under his collar. 

"Kohgrash?" Vok'Rul asked behind him. Viktor jumped and pivoted on his foot, slapping a hand over his chest. The alien looked just as surprised to see him, looking him up and down. "Tas drrsk!" he said with disgust, wrinkling his nose. 

"You're no spring chicken either," Viktor scowled at him. He peered at the mess of things in Vok'Rul's arm with interest. He pointed at it. "You got any rope?"

"Fchs? O, ks't?" Vok'Rul obligingly lowered himself to the ground and let Viktor look at his armful of stuff. 

Viktor harrumphed. It just looked like old clothes. 

Pause! Couldn't you make rope out of old clothes? 

"Gimme," he said, pulling the clothes out of Vok'Rul's arms. The alien was startled enough to let go, but immediately tried getting them back. 

"Neyk, Kohgrash! Ney!" Vok'Rul - scolded? - him, grabbing the bundle of clothes haphazardly. For an alien, this guy wasn't very coordinated. Viktor yanked the clothes out of his hands easily. "Kora, Kohgrash!" 

Ringing in his ears, the shouts of several humans telling him what do to, the whistle of the leash hurtling toward him - 

He hadn't realized he had let go of the clothes and hit the ground until rocks dug painfully up his hands. He flung them in front of his face, preparing himself for pain. 

I killed him, was the hysteric thought rushing through his head. I killed him so how - ? 

Gentle hands landed on him but he screamed regardless, choking it off in an attempt to remain silent-so-he-wont-hurt-you-too-badly - 

But no pain came, and Viktor's eyes snapped open because you couldn't ever bring your guard down in a place like - 

This wasn't the arena. 

Viktor's breathing was erratic and uneven, his ears were still ringing, and he swore he could smell animal musk and straw, but this wasn't the arena. This was... outside. 

Outside with a concerned alien crouched right in front of him, hands on his shoulders. But there was no pain. 

"Wh-" he croaked out in a gasp, the effort alone nearly staggering him. He sucked in a breath, and alarmingly, tears shot into his eyes. Claws tightened on his shoulders, and he should have felt threatened, but all he could think of were Pedro's hands doing the same thing. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't hold back his tears. 

They leaked down his face as he struggled to spew out his heartache. "I killed him, Vok'Rul, so how come he still gets to have all this fucking power over me? It's not fair. It's not fair!" 

His voice shattered on the last word, and he could barely hold himself up, let alone get away, so when Vok'Rul pulled him into a hug, touch feather light, Viktor clung to him. The alien's arms tightened around him fractionally, and despite his hatred for them, his general distrust of all things alien, Viktor felt nothing but relief at being comforted - at being held. 

There were tears in eyes and a gaping hole in his chest, but it felt smaller. It felt like healing. 

***

Emotional conversations were not his forte, and Viktor was more than glad to retreat after that embarrassing breakdown of his. There were no words chasing after him that he could understand, and so there was no need for him to stand still and be forced to confront his unstable psyche. 

Unfortunately, that only lasted until morning. 

When Viktor had reluctantly squirmed out of Vok'Rul's - albeit loose - hold and fled the scene, he had been certain that the alien wouldn't bother him for a while. If a random dog had come up to him only to start, say, breakdancing, he'd be a little freaked out. 

But, when he cracked his eyes open to a soft tapping on one of the windows to his house, he guessed he should've known better.

The throbbing headache born of dehydration and emotional turmoil told him he had gotten fuck-all for sleep, and it was with a scowl that he slammed open the door and glared at the alien. 

"Prosh jok!" he exclaimed, far too jovially. Viktor looked at the sky - it had barely lightened to the standard yellow - and back at the alien. 

"What?" he snapped, glancing at the empty dish. "If you're gonna wake me up, you could at least fill my bowl." He kicked it toward him. 

Vok'Rul laughed, which was very insulting, and went to pick it up. He moved a bit faster than normally, but Viktor was a) too tired to care and b) of the mind that if he could get hugged by the alien and not die, he was probably trustworthy. 

But when Vok'Rul reached out his hand to touch Viktor, all he could do was tense up and watch him cagily. Heavy claws landed on his head. Vok'Rul ruffled his hair for a brief second before he rescinded his hand. The whole thing happened in less than five seconds. 

Viktor blinked at him, stunned, before he snapped, "Just 'cause I let you hug me for like, a minute, doesn't mean you can go around... petting me." 

But Vok'Rul looked like Christmas had come early. When he returned with a dish absolutely full of food, Viktor supposed he could let that one slide. 

The thing was, though, that it kept happening. 

Every time Vok'Rul came out to fill up the bowl - which was now multiple times a day since Viktor had decided to move in - he reached out to touch Viktor. He always tensed up but allowed it. Vok'Rul hadn't hurt him yet, and it always netted him some more food, so Viktor couldn't really see the downsides of it. 

(And, if he were honest with himself, it felt nice to feel something that wasn't pain.) 

One evening found Viktor knee-deep in the Haunted Dumpster again. Washing off the stink wasn't too difficult, especially now that he could easily warm up after he's finished dropping dishfuls of fountain water on himself, so he wasn't too fussed about the whole thing. He needed rope, and the bits of cloth and discarded clothes he's found in the Dumpster would work just as well as anything. 

No, Vok'Rul was the one to have a problem with it. 

To be honest, Viktor could relate. He didn't think he'd pet a scruffy mutt who had just gotten done dumpster diving. 

No, that was a lie. Viktor loved animals. Earth animals, he amended. 

Regardless, he'd probably pet a stinky dog. Vok'Rul just needed to lower his standards. 

Not that Viktor thought he was the epitome of filth. Vok'Rul had a differing opinion, though. 

"Eugh, tas drrsk, Kohgrash," Vok'Rul greeted him in the middle of his 'shower'. Stripping down to just his pants and rolling them up was his best choice for modesty, but Viktor was beginning to regret that as winter progressed. It was fucking cold. 

"Shut up," he said through clacking teeth, scrubbing his fingers through his hair with difficulty. "I don't have soap." 

Vok'Rul rounded the house, catching sight of him. Whatever he was about to say died in his throat, overtaken by a strangled noise of dismay. Viktor looked at him over his shoulder, half-expecting to find the alien having stepped in some dirt or something, but Vok'Rul's eyes were fixated on him. 

"What?" he asked, struggling to look at his back. Oh. "Did I miss a spot?" The joke landed flat to his own ears. Viktor knew what he was upset about. 

He quickly pulled on his sweaters, covering the scarred lashes the ringmaster had inflicted on him. His hair was still damp and uncomfortable against his skin, but he didn't want to stand bare in front of the alien longer than he had to. 

He twitched uncomfortably as his hair slipped against the prongs of his collar. The laws of electricity seemed to be the same on this planet - it and water do not mix. Mercifully, the collar rarely went off randomly, but it seemed especially common when Viktor jostled it too hard. The clasp must get loose, he mused. 

Still, whenever something dripped against the prongs, the smallest of jolts would go through him. Frankly, it was hardly noticeable, but it was uncomfortable nonetheless. It especially sucked when he started sweating. 

"Kohgrash?" Vok'Rul asked worriedly. He said a few other words, and when Viktor turned to face him, he was gesturing to his own neck and looking incredibly upset. Viktor scratched at the skin underneath his collar. 

The prongs fused to his skin chafed him uncomfortably. Who knew shocking someone enough for them to develop sores and then letting them heal made their skin attach to the very thing that had caused their pain? Well, Viktor knew. 

It fucking sucked. It hurt whenever he turned his head too sharply, skin tugging at the stagnant points of his neck. Tugging on the collar hurt even more, but it had become a nervous habit for him, especially when he found himself struggling to breathe. 

"What's up?" he asked, trying to force the thoughts of the collar out of his mind. It didn't really work. 

Vok'Rul crouched in front of him, far enough away that Viktor could walk literally anywhere else to avoid him. He beckoned him over, concern written all over his face, and Viktor decided to pay into his curiosity and walked over. He stepped into his arm's reach, a line of tension worming its way into his spine. His legs were tense, and he was ready to run if anything happened. 

Vok'Rul's claws landed on his shoulders lightly, squeezing them. Slowly, his hands traveled upward and Viktor realized, with a terrifying jolt of clarity, that he was going to touch his collar. 

His feet were glued to the spot, but his hands shot up to grab his collar, digging his fingers underneath it and sending a fissure of pain through his body. "What are you doing?" he wanted to snap angrily, but it came off terrified instead. 

"Kas tih, Kohgrash'mrr'k," he cooed, claws clinking against the metal. They remained there, and all Vok'Rul really did was inspect it. Viktor stared so hard at him, it was a wonder that there weren't holes through his head. He was barely breathing. 

Could - could Vok'Rul get it off? 

Viktor flinched as his claws touched the bare skin of his throat, and only Vok'Rul's sudden grip on his shoulder prevented him from going anywhere. That only made him flinch harder. 

"Ney," Vok'Rul said, holding him firmly. Viktor forced himself to stand still. "Imrie 'blh'n rreki'myr!" 

Breathing harshly through his nose and trying to ignore the rising panic bubbling up inside him, Viktor gripped the alien's wrists. He attempted to pull them away from his neck to little avail. "It's not going to work - you're just going to shock me," he tried to reason. 

He was terrified - of the prolonged proximity to Vok'Rul, of the claws pressing against his jugular with gentleness that could easily turn lethal, of the possibility of electricity in his future - but he couldn't help but feel a little - 

Hope? Viktor wanted to scoff, but the air was stuck inside his lungs. 

Vok'Rul's hand that wasn't clutching Viktor with gentle strength nudged against the bottom of his chin, and it took a moment for him to realize that the alien wanted him to bare his throat. Well, the alien had to be fucking crazy if he thought that was going to happen. 

Viktor's fingers dug into the alien's wrists with sudden vigor, and he was semi-surprised to find out that the pressure point in a human's wrist was the same in aliens. The alien retracted his hands with a surprised cry, and Viktor was fleeing into the trees before he could even get up. 

Hours later, when the blood on his fingers from scratching at his neck had dried, Viktor had mustered up the courage to return to his house. The dish was overflowing with food, and he thought that the glistening starfruit on the top was a good enough apology. 

But apologies didn't last long in this world, apparently, because Vok'Rul kept trying to take off his collar. 

Viktor wanted to tell him it was futile. The humans had the advantage of being able to see each other's collars in the arena, and even they couldn't figure out how to unclasp them without getting a nasty shock. It was likely remote-controlled, and the remotes to his collar were far, far away. 

Short of - God forbid - going back to the arena to get them, Viktor was stuck with this thing. 

He's made his peace with it. 

(He has absolutely not made his peace with it.)

Vok'Rul was determined, though, he had to give the alien that. Viktor wasn't some dumb animal, no matter what they believed, so his attempt at getting Viktor close to him the next time failed spectacularly. When he brought out another pack of food and jerky strips, Viktor wasn't surprised to see a purple starfruit in his hands as well. Bribery got the alien nowhere. 

Several days after what Viktor called the Collar Catastrophe, Vok'Rul was looking miserable in his chair while Viktor ate his food. 

"I think you're taking this harder than me," he told him through a mouthful of jerky. Vok'Rul wrinkled his nose but kept that sad expression on his face. 

Viktor huffed, gesturing to his collar. "This thing isn't coming off. It'll electrocute me if I try - why am I bothering explaining this to you?" he interrupted himself, scowling at his dinner. 

"Kohgrash, pora," Vok'Rul tried for the seventh time that day. Viktor looked at him, extremely unimpressed. 

Unfortunately, Viktor had a feeling that the only way Vok'Rul was going to stop bothering him about this was if he got his way. And unfortunately for Viktor, his way meant getting zapped. 

"Look," he said suddenly, standing up on his porch and turning around so that his back was facing Vok'Rul. His skin itched, but it needed to be done. Otherwise, this dumb alien was going to be annoying him until the day he died. He brushed his hair out of the way, revealing the clasp of his collar. "See this? This is how you get it off." 

With a breath and gathering the courage he didn't feel he had, Viktor dug his fingers into the clasp and pulled before he could think better of it. 

Electric shocks zipped through him painfully, and Viktor swore they felt much more intense than he remembered. He immediately pulled his fingers away, breathing quickly through his mouth. "I can't get it off, Vok'Rul," he snapped, glaring at the alien when he turned back around. 

Vok'Rul looked pathetically sad, but for the rest of the night, he stopped asking for him to come here. 

Several days after that, Viktor was firmly situated in his routine. Wake up, drink some water, attempt to find more clothing and cloths in the Dumpster, tie them up as best he could, and try not to kill Vok'Rul. 

The last item was always added later in the day, but it was added all the same. 

The first time Vok'Rul pulled out a remote from the belt on his waist, Viktor had grabbed it before he could register taking the five steps in his direction and chucked it as far as he could into the trees. He had screamed himself hoarse to the bewildered alien before fleeing into the woods to have the mother of all panic attacks. 

When he calmed down, he hunted for the remote and delighted in smashing it to pieces against the Haunted Dumpster and leaving the wreckage strewn at Vok'Rul's back door. 

The second time Vok'Rul showed up with the remote in his hands, Viktor snarled at him with every curse he knew until his voice gave out. He even threw pieces of food at him. The alien stood there placidly. Never did he move to shock Viktor, but he was too upset to notice until the sixth time Vok'Rul pulled this trick. 

"Why?" he asked, eyeing the alien and remote in equal parts suspicion. "There's no way the button to open the damn collar is on that thing." 

Vok'Rul gestured for him to come here and spoke quietly, encouragingly, and kindly, and all Viktor could do was half hide in the house and glare. He had the half-hearted thought of why didn't Vok'Rul just storm over to him and grab him if he wanted Viktor to be near so badly, but he figured that the alien was too nice for that. 

Which was the part that sucked the most. The alien was probably just trying to help, but every time Viktor laid eyes on the remote, gripped by alien claws, he was struck with fear. 

"I- I can't," he stammered, voice trembling. He scowled at himself. "I can't, Vok'Rul. You'll shock me." 

"Kas tih," he only cooed in response. 

By the time a week had passed, Viktor was surprisingly getting used to the sight of the remote. It didn't send him into a blind panic - it only gave him a worried feeling in his gut instead. Was this what exposure therapy was? He had always thought it a load of crap. 

Still, it took a few more weeks for Viktor to gather the courage - which he was severely lacking, even now armed with the knowledge that Vok'Rul has not once even looked at the button Viktor knew would shock him - to walk up to the alien with the remote in his hands. He flinched when the alien grabbed his shoulder, claws curling around him gently, and he bared his teeth threateningly at him when his other hand lifted the remote. It didn't have any heat. Vok'Rul knew this. Viktor knew this. 

Viktor looked at him worriedly. He took a breath. "Kas tih?" he asked tentatively. He had figured out that it was a reassurance of some kind, given how much Vok'Rul had uttered it in the past few weeks. 

Vok'Rul blinked at him, face going slack with surprise. It didn't last long, though, being quickly replaced by determination. "Kas tih," he repeated firmly, lifting his thumb to press a button on the remote. Viktor shut his eyes and braced himself. 

There was a faint pressure on his neck as Vok'Rul pressed the remote against his collar, a subsequent clink of metal on metal, and the unmistakable sound of the collar snapping open. 

Viktor moved with a speed that surprised him, digging his fingers into the metal chokehold and ripping it off with wild abandon. The pain that engulfed his neck was nowhere near as intense as the sheer, unadulterated relief at finally being free. 

He was free. 

Then, Vok'Rul started putting another collar around his neck. 

Before he could freak out, his brain caught up to it and he realized it was just bandages. The same type of bandages Lilac would often use. He attempted to pull away - if only to avoid the uncomfortable sensation of things going around his neck - but Vok'Rul kept a firm grip on him. How the alien was wrapping him up and holding onto him was a mystery. 

Viktor stared at the collar in his hands, noting with some detached disgust the chunks of skin and blood splattered on the inside. Its prongs - those he could see, anyway - were charred black. The blinking light on the side that had been a constant source of light was off. The collar was dead. 

Tears burned at the back of his eyes, but he didn't know if it was from shame, relief, or the searing pain encompassing his throat. 

The bandages chafed at his already sore neck, but they felt better than the collar by miles. Viktor looked up at Vok'Rul, who was admiring his work with a bit of pride on his face. "Keti?" he said, dropping his other hand on Viktor's shoulders and shaking him a little in celebration. "Tas ti'rosh." 

Viktor squinted at him, blinking hard. "Okay, you can stop touching me now," he said, batting his hands away. Vok'Rul didn't give him space like he normally does, though, instead opting to reach out and ruffle his hair. 

Viktor shrank in on himself, but no amount of shying away deterred the alien. He just had to put up with it. 

His neck hurt something fierce, throbbing in time with his heartbeat sickly, and Viktor wanted nothing more than to sleep and get this emotional day behind him. To his surprise, when he retreated to his house, Vok'Rul let him be. He didn't even take the collar. 

Viktor held it in a vice. His fingers were bloodied and the collar was putrid, but he couldn't seem to let go of it. 

He wondered what that said about him.

***

The bandages were scratchy, tight, and they even smelled a little like freshly mowed grass, constantly making their presence known, and yet Viktor was still surprised when he went to touch his neck that the collar was gone. 

That was the only thing that really changed. That, and the fact that Vok'Rul had decided to teach him tricks. 

"Srret!" he said firmly, opening his fingers open and closed as if he were mimicking speech. It was only through that gesture that Viktor figured out the word meant speak. 

But Viktor had no clue what the alien wanted exactly, and simply replying "what the fuck do you want?" didn't really make Vok'Rul happy. 

"Ssrreht," Viktor copied slowly, squinting at Vok'Rul suspiciously. He only gave in because the alien was holding his food bowl hostage. He held out his hands, "Give me that norish or I'll drop some dead squirrels on your porch." 

"Teyk! Norish. Prosh, Kohgrash," he replied cheerfully despite the dire threat. He grabbed a piece of jerky from the bowl and held it out to Viktor. The teen took it begrudgingly, a bit pissed he wasn't getting the entire bowl. 

"More norish," he demanded, shoving the piece of food into his mouth and holding out his hands. Vok'Rul gave him a piece. 

It took until Vok'Rul demonstrated how to sit down while saying the words koh frh that he started to think Vok'Rul was trying to teach him tricks. He sat mulishly, rewarded with some pieces of starfruit, and tried to think of ways to get revenge. He wasn't an actual animal, for God's sake!

He played along for now, though. The bastard had his food bowl. It was only until the alien started trying to teach him shake that he stopped bothering. He'd just go hungry for a few days while he set some traps. Anything was better than willingly touching Vok'Rul. 

The alien was nice, and yes they had touched before, but Viktor was still... wary. Anything could do wrong. 

Even if he had taken off his collar. 

Which brought him back to the thing he had very pointedly started ignoring. Despite being hidden away in a corner of his house, covered with some leaves and twigs he had brought inside, Viktor could still sense its evil nature permeating the very air. He should probably get rid of it. 

But every time he walked over to the Haunted Dumpster, collar clutched in his hands so tightly that his knuckles turned white and his hands shook with the effort, he couldn't throw it away. 

He realized the why a few days later when Vok'Rul didn't pay him a visit all day - one of the security guards had crept over in the midst of a glaring match with Viktor to fill up his bowl - that he was just lonely. The collar was his only connection to the only people he's spent time with for the past two years, and now that he had the opportunity to throw it away... 

Well, it sort of felt like throwing away his connection to his friends. 

"Ugh," he groaned, glaring at the offending torture device. It still had his blood on it, dried black with time. "I don't need you to remember my friends," he told it rather firmly. It didn't get the memo, and neither did he, because he went to bed that night without throwing it away. 

He was way too happy to see Vok'Rul the next day, which led to him giving the alien an undeserved cold shoulder to distance himself. Of course, the alien thought it was his fault and tried to bribe him with fruit, which made Viktor feel really bad. He took the fruit, though. 

"I'm just going through it," he told the alien, having climbed onto the top of the mansion-like doghouse (it was kinda pointy at the top, but there was a flat part big enough for Viktor to sit comfortably) to get a better vantage point. By the way Vok'Rul had reacted to his climbing skills, he had probably taken a few years off the alien's life. Oh, well. "This collar thing has been fucking me up."

He didn't expect any meaningful advice from the alien, but Vok'Rul was watching him intently from his chair that he half-expected to get some. He sighed explosively when the alien remained quiet. 

"What was your word for collar," he muttered to himself, trying to remember exactly what Vok'Rul had been repeating during his attempts to remove it. "Kry?" 

Vok'Rul tilted his head, much more focused on him now. "Kry?" Viktor repeated, gesturing at his neck. The alien frowned, looking worried, and sat up in his chair. 

"Ta ka gnn, cho'k?" he asked with way more concern than the word collar warranted. Definitely not kry, then. 

Viktor made a noise of frustration in the back of his throat. He pressed his fingers to his bandages, ignoring the slight sting of pain that came with it, "Uhh... wreck- wrecky?" More growl-y, Viktor! "Rreki? Was that it?" 

Vok'Rul sat back in his chair, looking less worried now but much more confused. "Tas rreki, Kohgrash? Cperoh, kas ky'ka vyrr mr." 

Viktor huffed because he didn't understand a fucking word of that besides his name. "Man, fuck off. Talk slower or something. Wish I had some pen and paper to write this shit down." 

Still, it seemed that Vok'Rul had understood him to an extent. Any other time, he would've been thrilled to communicate with the aliens, but really, it was just Vok'Rul. The big bastard's been talking with him for months, now. It wasn't anything really special. 

"Rreki," he repeated firmly, jumping off the mansion in order to grab the blasted thing and show it to the alien. Vok'Rul looked surprised, as if he hadn't really expected to see it again. 

The alien held out a hand and said a few words, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that he was telling Viktor to fork it over. He scowled at him, clutching the collar to his chest before he realized what was touching him and held it out a few inches in front of him. 

"That's the thing," Viktor struggled to explain. He held out the collar, shaking it. "Rreki- kora," he spluttered out, feeling his face burn in shameful embarrassment of his fear over the simple word. Still, he soldiered on. "Rreki bad but... but- ugh! I don't know enough words to explain it to you." 

Vok'Rul tilted his head, sadness etched all over his face. Viktor looked away before it could become pity. "Kas tih, Kohgrash," he whispered, getting out of his chair to shuffle toward him. He held out his hand again, not saying a word. The unasked question was clear. 

Could Viktor just... give it up like that, though? 

He hated this collar and everything it stood for. The shocks, the ownership, the arena. Everything about it was terrible and held nothing but terrible memories. 

And yet, it reminded him of his friends. Because Viktor was pathetic. 

"I miss my friends," he admitted to the alien, peering up at him warily. "They're still stuck in that arena. I don't know if there's been a change in management or if everything just fell apart when I- killed the ringmaster, but... I still don't know what happened to them. And maybe they're okay, and I'm just overreacting. Not that I'll ever know." He sighed loudly, making Vok'Rul jolt. He smiled ruefully at the alien. 

"But... I think I've come to terms with that," he muttered, even though the words felt like acid on his tongue. "It doesn't make me as sad as it used to, y'know? Probably makes me a bad person, though, doesn't it?

"Don't ever get stranded on a planet where the main species of aliens think you're an animal, man. It sucks. I definitely don't recommend it," he joked, dropping his gaze back to the collar in his hands. 

"I hate this thing," he whispered. The pair stood in silence for a minute before Viktor, with a trembling hand, placed the collar in Vok'Rul's hands. 

"Kas tih, Kohgrash," the alien whispered reassuringly. Viktor sincerely hoped so. 

He never saw that fucking thing again.

***

Vok'Rul was monologing. There was really no better word for it. Viktor didn't think he's seen the alien breathe since he started ten minutes ago. How did he have so much air to expel? It was a bit remarkable. 

Viktor didn't mind, though. It did help that the alien had a bag of food in his hands and was content to toss them to Viktor while he sat languidly in his chair. He felt like a dog running after the food, but he wasn't going to let them touch the ground. That was unsanitary. 

Vok'Rul started to get a bit mean and threw them further and further, but after one particularly far toss where Viktor had to throw himself onto the ground like a certified baseball player in order to catch it, he stopped going so crazy. 

And all the while, he talked. And talked and talked and talked. Seriously, what was this guy talking about? 

Sometimes, he'd sound annoyed before laughing and looking very pleased. Once, he got mushy-looking, like he was talking about his significant other. Did Vok'Rul even have a significant other? Now that Viktor thought about it, he hadn't seen much of any alien roaming the gardens since he had moved in. The guards only came out if they absolutely had to (read: to feed Viktor) and that was extremely rare. 

"Wonder if you've got a family," he quipped back when Vok'Rul had finally paused for a breath. 

"Ro, Kohgrash," he said suddenly, leaning forward in his chair. "Pora."

Viktor walked over, holding out his hands expectantly. Vok'Rul chuckled, dumping the rest of the bag in his hands. Viktor swiftly shoved the pellets in his mouth. Pears. 

The alien reached out, placing his hand on his shoulder. Viktor eyed him but let it happen. "Ta ka awshk, Kohgrash. To awshk. Whf ta trsk 'awshk'?" 

"What's awshk?" he wondered. Vok'Rul brightened. 

"Prosh," was all he got in reply. 

One night, he was woken by gentle tapping on his window. In his bleary state, he almost believed it to be a branch before he remembered he was in the middle of the gardens, still. 

His plan with the world's first alien-pulley system hadn't exactly panned out. He grimaced at the reminder. He needed to get on that. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

He jerked upright, remembering why he had woken in the first place. He looked out the window and nearly died of a heart attack when he saw Vok'Rul staring at him in the darkness. 

He opened the door with a bit more force than necessary, scowling at the alien. "Why the hell are you waking me up at whatever the fuck time it is?" he demanded. 

His tone lost a lot of its bite when he realized how distraught the alien looked. It was as if he were a few seconds from tears. 

"Kohgrash," he said in a shattered whisper. Before Viktor could get his bearings together, Vok'Rul had pulled him into a tight hug, muttering, "Flakmn'a, flakmn'a." 

Viktor pushed at his chest and mercifully, the alien let go. "What's wrong with you?" he asked. But Vok'Rul wasn't looking at him. His head was in his hands, and he muttered to himself, words low and pained. "Hey! Who do I have to kill?" he half-joked, stepping forward and putting a hand on the alien's shoulder. 

Vok'Rul looked up at him mournfully. Viktor tried shaking his shoulder in encouragement but it barely moved the alien. 

Vok'Rul reached up, cupping his cheek, and Viktor tensed up despite himself. This was fine, he told himself. He was not uncomfortable with this because Vok'Rul's hand was the size of his entire head. 

And definitely not because the last time someone had touched his face had been the ringmaster, who had slapped him hard enough it had made Viktor kill him. 

He restrained from pulling away, if only because the alien looked like he really needed some comfort. 

"Flakmn'a," Vok'Rul whispered again, looking upset beyond measure. Viktor frowned at him. 

"Tas tih," he repeated the reassuring phrase. It didn't seem to do much reassuring, since his expression crumpled in response. "Please don't start crying." 

Vok'Rul stared at him for a moment before pulling himself back together, getting the familiar determined-looking expression on his face. He got up, patting Viktor gently on the head as he went, and said, "Pora, Kohgrash'mrr'k." 

Bemused, Viktor decided to follow. It was only until Vok'Rul started heading to his house with no signs of stopping that Viktor realized the alien was trying to make him go inside. "Okay, pause. I know it's cold out here and all, but you literally got me a heated doghouse for this reason. I'm not going inside, no matter what." 

Inside were cages, shock collars, and fighting rings. Outside was freedom. Viktor would like to stay outside, thanks. 

Vok'Rul looked at him pleadingly but seemed to realize that this was a losing battle. He held up a hand for Viktor to wait and went inside. Viktor rolled his eyes and hid in a bush to block out the worst of the nightly breeze. He still shivered something fierce. 

When Vok'Rul came back outside with blankets and several other aliens tailing him, Viktor was suddenly really glad he had taken shelter in the bush. 

"OVokkra, krih byr-" one of them said beseechingly, only to get cut off by Vok'Rul's flip of his hand. 

"Neyk. Imrie tih," he said dismissively. A bulkier alien stepped up, looking irritated that he was even here. 

"OVokkra-" he started. Vok'Rul cut this one off, too. 

"Shul,"  he chided. "Imrie tih. Imrie t'rrr Kohgrash." 

The group paused expectantly and if they thought Viktor was going to magically show himself, they were fucking insane. There were way too many aliens out there. 

The bulkier alien - Shul, Viktor guessed - crossed his arms and looked at Vok'Rul skeptically. Vok'Rul huffed and called, "Kohgrash." 

Viktor rolled his eyes. They were crazy. 

Unfortunately, he knew from experience that while the guards and other aliens in the mansion were impatient, Vok'Rul was definitely not, so he expected that he'd be willing to stand out there for hours. And after waiting for five arduous minutes, wherein Vok'Rul intermittently called out for him, Viktor was forced to admit defeat. 

He stepped out of the bush, legs tensed and ready to scale the nearest tree. Which was a pretty good sprint away, but he could outrun aliens. He's done it before. 

Adrenaline already fueling him, he jumped in fright when the other aliens caught sight of him. Vok'Rul turned around, beaming at him. "Ah, Kohgrash! Rohsh, cho'k. Pora," he cooed, crouching down with the blankets in his arms. He wondered how soft they were. They looked pretty soft. 

"No way," he told him, keeping an eye on the others behind him. Vok'Rul shuffled forward, but he didn't pay the big bastard much attention. 

He did, however, start paying attention when Vok'Rul scooped him up without effort. He froze, terrified. 

His gut reaction told him to start struggling, but his brain kicked in at the last second, yelling reminders that there were several aliens that were highly likely to start throwing him in the nearest pound if he attacked Vok'Rul randomly. He couldn't relax, but he let himself go from stiff as a board to just stiff.

Why couldn't he have slept peacefully in his house, unbothered by annoying alien landlords?

He bared his teeth unhappily at Vok'Rul, who merely smiled in return. "Imrie t'rrr Kohgrash. Zhesh!" he said hurriedly in a cheerful tone before pivoting on his heel and rushing back to Viktor's house. The aliens shouted protests behind him but did not follow. As soon as they rounded a particularly tall bush, Viktor started struggling to get out of Vok'Rul's arms. 

He briefly mourned the softness of those blankets, but his relief at being back on his own two feet overwhelmed that longing. 

"What the hell was that, dude?" he snapped, rubbing at his eyes as his exhaustion crept back on him. "Not cool. I'm not a plaything." 

"Flakmmn," was the whispered reply. At least he sounded remorseful. He said something else, but Viktor didn't have enough brainpower to figure it out. 

"I'm going back to bed. Are you okay? Like, you were pretty upset earlier," he looked at the alien who was settling into his chair with the blankets strewn over his legs. Viktor watched, bemused, as the alien reclined, looking pretty cozy. 

"Are you gonna sleep out here?" he asked in bewilderment. 

Apparently, he was. Viktor wondered what had made him so upset that he'd decide to spend his night camping out here with what he believed to be an animal. 

"You need some friends, man," he grumbled, scratching at his bandages and ignoring the twinge of pain at the action. "You can't rely on me; I don't even know your language." 

Despite his griping, Viktor ended up sleeping with his door open. Just in case the alien needed something. 

He was woken up by the sound of his food bowl getting filled. He sat up before his brain could even register his wakefulness, and when someone laughed at him, he didn't even feel vaguely panicked. 

Just annoyed. Who was waking him up so early? 

Claws settled on his head, ruffling his hair and catching slightly on his knots. He groaned grumpily, swatting the hand ineffectively. 

"Kas drrsk, Kohgrash," Vok'Rul huffed, pulling his hand away and inspecting it with disgust. Viktor blinked blearily up at him, scowling when he realized just how close he had gotten. Vok'Rul obligingly backed up a few paces. 

"All you do is insult my hygiene. Stop petting me, then. Saves us both the trouble," he grouched, pulling his breakfast toward him and idly eating the slices of fruit after a thorough inspection. 

Vok'Rul hummed, looking pretty rumpled. He was usually more put together than this, but Viktor supposed that sleeping outside in a chair would do that to you. 

"Rul!" someone shouted from the mansion. Viktor took a moment to sigh heavily before scrambling out of his house and diving into a nearby bush. Vok'Rul watched him go with envy. 

It was that alien who had shouted at Vok'Rul one of the first times he had seen the alien, back when he was still getting used to being on his own. She stormed right up to Vok'Rul, looking irritated. Her arms were crossed and her teeth were bared as she started to chew him out. Vok'Rul listened placidly, looking like he wasn't paying much attention. 

Viktor's stomach growled. He eyed his food bowl enviously. His gaze flickered back to the pair of aliens. They must be siblings or something related. They really did look similar. 

The new alien said his name and despite the fact that he was ninety percent sure Vok'Rul wouldn't toss him in the next cage to the arena, his stomach still lurched at the sound. Another alien knowing his name was definitely not good... What if they talked about him outside the mansion and it somehow got back to Lilac? Then, they'd know where he was. 

He'd just have to rely on Vok'Rul to keep trespassers off his property, Viktor guessed. It probably wouldn't be too hard with his disposal of guards, though. Still, trusting Vok'Rul was difficult, especially when his own safety was in question. But it wasn't like he had any other option. 

Vok'Rul seemed cheered that the topic was on Viktor, though, and unfortunately, he decided that moment to try and coax Viktor out of the bush. 

The crazy idiot even went so far as to pry apart the foliage to spot him! Ugh! 

Hiding spot compromised, Viktor slunk out of the bush with as much grace as he could muster. He leveled a glare at Vok'Rul's sister, who didn't look too impressed with him either. She looked at Vok'Rul with an expression that Viktor could only describe as 'really'? 

Vok'Rul laughed, but it held some strain in it. He crouched next to Viktor, grabbing his shoulder lightly and saying something else. Viktor didn't really appreciate being the subject of gossip he couldn't listen in on. He definitely didn't appreciate being touched right now, either. 

"Get off me, man," he said, smacking Vok'Rul's hand off him, keeping his eyes on his sister. She looked miffed that he had touched her brother, stepping forward threateningly. Viktor bared his teeth, heart thumping in his chest. 

Before he could do anything other than take a step backward and think about crouching down to grab a nearby rock, Vok'Rul stood up, placing himself between Viktor and his sister. Viktor was a bit touched, but he took the opportunity for what it was and booked it to the tree line. 

He didn't come back until Vok'Rul's sister had left for the mansion and Vok'Rul called out for him. Viktor jumped down from the branch he was sitting on, placing his hands on his hips and squinting at Vok'Rul. 

"What was that all about?" he demanded. Vok'Rul beamed upon seeing him. The alien bent at the knees, patting Viktor briefly on the head. He pulled away quicker than Viktor could retaliate - which was likely his plan, the dick - said a few words and bid him goodbye. Viktor watched, mystified. 

What a weirdo, was his only thought. 

***

The impromptu sleepover aside, Viktor decided that it was time to pull his projects from the back burner. He had finally gathered enough cloth from his trips into the Haunted Dumpster and managed to make a pretty sizeable braided rope. It definitely wasn't the prettiest, but it would work. He hoped. 

In a stroke of good luck, he had found a sturdy branch just lying on the forest floor on his rare trips back into the woods. Dragging it back had been a pain in the ass, but the look on Vok'Rul's face when he emerged with a branch twice the size of Viktor was worth it. 

He waited until Vok'Rul had left for the night before trying anything, though. He wasn't sure if there was anything he could do that would piss the alien off, but he figured dragging what seemed to be an expensive doghouse across his equally - if not more - expensive flowers and garden would probably do it. 

Rubbing his hands together, Viktor got to work. All he needed to do was jam the stick in the ground, tie the rope to the mansion and said stick, and yank the stick down. In theory, it should move the mansion, easy as pie.

He quickly ran into a very large problem. 

He was way too puny and short to actually get this fucking branch in the ground. 

He dug a deep hole. He lined up the end of the branch with it. He stood it on its end and kicked dirt back into the divot, stomping on it for good measure. 

The branch fell over
as soon as he let go, and he had to dodge to the side to avoid becoming a Viktor-pancake. No matter how deep he dug the hole, packed in dirt, or even jabbed the branch into the ground, it just wouldn't stay upright. 

"Ugh," he said, lying flat on his back on the cold ground. It was refreshing, considering the sweat he had worked up. Was the branch too top-heavy, or was Viktor just too much of an idiot to stick the fucking branch in the ground? 

He tried reworking his plan, but if he couldn't get the branch to stay in the ground, he wasn't sure that anything else could work. 

Maybe he needed a deeper hole, but that just ran the risk of getting so deep he wouldn't be able to yank the branch down without snapping it in half. 

Damn it. Maybe he just needed to ask Vok'Rul for help. If the alien moved it anywhere else other than Viktor's desired spot (by the fruit trees near the forest line) he'd smack him with the branch. At least then, it'd get some use. 

He stared at the pile of rope. He decided he'd get some use out of that, somehow. Maybe he could hook it up to the doghouse for Vok'Rul to move? But the bastard was so big, he'd probably just be able to lift it up. 

"I'll find a use for you," he sighed petulantly. 

The next day found him dragging the branch to the tree line. He didn't want to just leave it in the middle of the gardens. Vok'Rul could trip over it or something-! 

Oh, he just had an excellent idea. Viktor grinned. 

Getting close to the mansion with a bundle of rope sitting on his shoulders wasn't the best feeling in the world. It looked ominous and spooky with its dark colors and oddly reflecting glass. And even though he knew that Vok'Rul lived inside it, Viktor just couldn't shake the feeling of it housing anything more than evil, mean aliens. 

Tongue between his teeth, Viktor took great pleasure in tying the rope in front of the doors Vok'Rul usually exited from - great big sliding doors that he had to be cautious not to be seen from - using two giant pots that sat on each side. It was pulled taut. Perfect. Now he waited. 

Only, it wasn't Vok'Rul who exited the doors. 

The doors were slid open, and it only took a half second for the alien to realize that there was something not quite right about the floor. The servant looked bewildered, and Viktor wanted to groan in dismay as they quickly disassembled his prank. But that would give away his hidden position in the bushes, so he refrained. 

Barely. He still cursed out the alien in his head. 

His disgruntlement was quickly washed away when the alien disappeared from view, leaving the doors wide open, only to reappear with several others carrying tables and large chairs. 

Oh, great, Viktor thought, scrunching himself further into the bush. Some sort of garden party?! Were they going to bring out a grill, too? 

Dear god, Viktor would not be able to resist a grill. He hoped there wasn't a grill. His stomach rumbled. 

The aliens were chatting happily amongst themselves, laughing and joking while they set up the tables. It looked much fancier than any backyard BBQ Viktor's been to, but he supposed that with a mansion like this, Vok'Rul could certainly splurge on fancy outdoor tables and chairs. 

He managed to sneak away when the aliens went inside. He scaled up the first sugar-apple tree he had found on the property, opting to remain high in the air than grounded in his heated house. Even though he'd much prefer the latter. Brr. 

As the day carried on, he was proven correct. It was a garden party, but when the guests arrived, he had to quickly amend his suspicion. It wasn't just a BBQ, it was a fucking birthday party. 

He had seen alien kids before, but only briefly during his mad dash to freedom and only from afar. He hadn't really given them much thought if he were honest. The idea that these aliens could have children - to be loving toward these children - was just... well, alien, he supposed. 

There were about a dozen kids running around, ducking between the adults' legs and jumping over tails. They nearly bowled over some poor employee who was bringing out refreshments. They looked to be having a good time, at least.

Viktor was very glad he had chosen the tree, though. The kids were not confined to the front of the gardens, opting to explore the entire thing soon after the party had started. They quickly found his house and invited themselves in. Viktor only hoped they didn't steal any of his stuff. Or find his meager food stockpile. 

His attention was drawn back to the mansion as ringing cheers and calls rose from the gaggle of adults. Vok'Rul had just entered the fray. He looked only a little frazzled but had a pleasant smile on his face nonetheless. He quickly retreated from the spotlight to join an alien by the grill (yes, Viktor could barely resist going over there and stealing some food. It smelled epic).

Viktor harrumphed. Two could relate to that, he guessed. He never liked being the center of attention, either.

He watched Vok'Rul for a while. The alien flitted between guests like he was born to do it, nodding and laughing the entire time. He seemed to be asking them questions no one had an answer to, as they would all shake their heads and his shoulders would slump slightly. Viktor wondered what he was asking about. 

"Ro!" a young voice shouted very close nearby. He tore his attention away from Vok'Rul to find the alien kids gathered underneath his tree, peering up at him with curiosity. "Keti! Mirmak!" 

"Fuck," he growled to himself, getting up to climb higher up the tree. He had no clue if these aliens could climb - the adults never had, but kids were an entirely different breed - but he did not want to find out. 

He found out anyway. 

A small red one with a short tail started scaling the tree with surprising speed. The other kids cheered it on. "Pora, mirmak!" the kid shouted. 

"Get away from me!" he said worriedly. He didn't want to find out what would happen to him if some adult alien were to look over and see this kid cornering Viktor. They'd probably shake him out of the tree and kill him! 

But the kid sat on the lowest branch and watched him instead. After about a minute of doing nothing, someone spoke up. "Nohkka, poran!" the kid on the ground whined. "Tas kli mirmak." 

"Imrie neyv keti!" the kid - Nohkka? - called back, waving its hand. Viktor frowned, trying and failing to figure out what the hell these kids were talking about. 

The kid huffed, but the rest of the group ran off. Nohkka swung her feet in the air, peering up at him with curiosity. Despite himself, Viktor started to relax. He could probably get away from just one kid, right? 

Nohkka started talking to him, tone switching from curious to happy to annoyed to sad. It was reminiscent of Vok'Rul, actually. A thought struck him. 

"You aren't Vok'Rul's kid, are you?" he asked her. She beamed at him when he spoke, and the resemblance to his alien landlord was uncanny. "Because I would've seen you by now, right? Kids like playing outside." 

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Vok'Rul startled the both of them with his call of, "Nohkka! Fchs tas frh'n?" 

"Mirmak, Tor'Rul!" she shouted back, pointing up at him. Viktor shrunk into the safety of the branches. Vok'Rul was less likely to jump to conclusions of Viktor going feral and attacking some random kid, but he's not made it this far without learning to be cautious. 

But Vok'Rul looked pleased to see him, and with a gesture and a few words, got Nohkka out of the tree. He propped her up on his hip, holding her closely. Side by side, they did look pretty similar, but there were more differences in their faces that led Viktor to believe Nohkka was his niece or something. That and the fact that he's never seen her before in his life, and he definitely would have noticed Vok'Rul having a child. 

Well, at least he hoped so. Otherwise, his observation skills could use some work. 

Vok'Rul called for him to come down, too, and while Viktor was reluctant to step onto the ground with all these aliens and children around, he lowered himself a few branches. The alien rolled his eyes but stopped bothering trying to coax him down. He dug into his shirt pockets and pulled out a packet of food, shaking it enticingly.

Nohkka swiftly snatched it out of his hands, shaking it loudly, and asking Vok'Rul something. Vok'Rul responded with "Kohgrash," so he figured that she had asked for his name. She tried tempting him down with the food. 

And frankly, it almost worked. The smells of the grill and the fact that he had breakfast practically eons ago were making him incredibly hungry. He was about a second away from dropping onto the ground when Vok'Rul's sister walked over. 

He swiftly rescinded his progress downward, clutching the tree as he regarded her suspiciously. 

"Ffssk'a!" Nohkka cried, holding out her arms to Vok'Rul's sister. Definitely her mother, Viktor thought as he watched the usually stoic alien soften at the sight of the kid. 

Vok'Rul's sister pressed her face against Nohkka's before chatting amicably with Vok'Rul. Viktor was surprised. He didn't know she could do that. Apparently, neither did Vok'Rul. 

Unfortunately, it did not seem like they were going to be moving along any time soon. Viktor was stuck in this uncomfortable tree. Ugh, life sucked. 

When ten minutes had passed without the pair of siblings moving away so Viktor could make his quick escape into the woods, he decided just to risk it. His ass was starting to go numb. As soon as his feet met the ground, Nohkka chose that moment to wriggle out of her mother's grasp and charge toward him. 

She was intent. On doing what exactly, Viktor had no clue. But a child was rushing toward him, and Viktor could admit that he was terrified. 

He turned tail and tried to make a run for it, but Nohkka grabbed the back of his red sweater. He shouted wordlessly, trying to frighten her off, but the kid wasn't so easily cowed. She yanked him back toward her, and it was then that someone finally noticed his predicament. 

"Nohkka! Vro's dreshi, 'bln byr!" Vok'Rul's sister said loudly while both she and Vok'Rul hastily stepped forward. Nohkka's mom grabbed her and, unfortunately, Vok'Rul grabbed Viktor. 

"Get your fucking hands off me," he snarled, pushing at the alien's arms futilely. Vok'Rul only hung onto him tighter. Viktor gave up, but he glared something fierce at him. 

"Nohkka," Vok'Rul said scoldingly, clutching Viktor like a lifeline. He was getting increasingly uncomfortable with the fact that he could barely move. 

"Flakmmn," she replied unconvincingly. Viktor huffed, irritated. Damn kids! 

Viktor wished he could tell her to go the hell away and never touch him again, but his vocabulary was distinctly lacking. He struggled to remember the word for go, but he knew he's heard it before. After racking his brain for a bit, he decided to just say, bitingly, "Byr, Nohkka!" with as much irritation as he could muster in his voice. 

The three squabbling aliens fell silent, looking at him in what he assumed was shock. Mercifully, Vok'Rul's shock seemed to have loosened his hold on Viktor, and with one well-timed pinch to the weak spot in his wrist made him jerk his arms out. Viktor collapsed to the ground with a grunt - it really was a long way to the ground - and quickly fucked off into the woods. 

Vok'Rul tried calling after him, but they both knew he wouldn't show up until after this hellish birthday party was over. Viktor only wished he could have grabbed something from the grill. 

***

"Come on, I know you're strong enough, just do it already!" he pleaded with the alien. 

Vok'Rul looked at him with confusion and a bit of skepticism. Viktor started up his show of charades again. Catching the alien's attention, he went over to the side of the doghouse and started pushing futilely. Then, he pointed at Vok'Rul, then at the fruit tree. "Push! House! There!" he said.

Vok'Rul hummed, eyeing the house skeptically. To Viktor's horror, he started inspecting it and even went so far as to snap the roof off. "Dude! My freaking house!" he cried, appalled. He was quickly mollified when the alien just snapped the roof back on. He knew that thing could be taken apart. 

"Fchs, Kohgrash? Ney gnn'," he said, gesturing to the house. 

"Damn, you're dumb," Viktor muttered under his breath, crossing his arms and trying to think of how he could communicate a little better with Vok'Rul. 

He ended up convincing Vok'Rul to move the house eventually. It came with demonstrating via rocks and twigs and actually going to the fruit tree to demonstrate. He set up the rock he had told Vok'Rul was the 'house' and feigned sleeping near it, pointing to the actual doghouse. When they walked about over to the house and Viktor pushed it, Vok'Rul finally got it this time. 

Viktor was very smug when Vok'Rul lifted the entire house after unplugging it from the mansion and wrapping up the cord. He knew the alien would be strong enough to carry it. He was less smug when the alien started carrying it back to the mansion. 

"Hey! Stop that!" he yelped, trying to get in front of Vok'Rul to physically block him. Despite not being able to see him over the doghouse, the alien kept sidestepping him. He grabbed onto the alien's tail in a last-ditch attempt, but all that ended with was with Viktor sprawling on the ground and Vok'Rul stumbling minutely as he swept his tail away. 

He scowled petulantly as the alien placed his house on the porch and then proceeded to dismantle it. A shiver of fear and panic jolted Viktor into action and he quickly grabbed a piece of his home, spluttering out, "Please, don't take it away! Seriously, I just wanted you to move it! It's not broken or anything!" 

Vok'Rul cooed out a hardly reassuringly, "Kas tih,"  accompanied by a feeble attempt at petting Viktor's head before he stood up and fled into the mansion. Viktor was left with all of his belongings, house and otherwise, strewn about on the back porch. 

"Annoying alien bastard," he muttered under his breath, gathering up his things to place in a pile while he worked out how to fix his house. Apart from the ceiling, which had the lights attached to it, and the floor, which was a giant bulky thing that likely held the heating pad or whatever was in there, the walls were still attached to each other, making a strange, double-opened box. It'd be difficult to snap back into the floor given his size, but Viktor needed to make it happen. 

Or he'd freeze to death. Simple! 

Viktor had only gotten one wall snapped back into place, nearly breathless with the exertion that came with moving something size your size and heavy as hell, when Vok'Rul came back with a bunch of cleaning supplies and several protesting aliens. 

Viktor, who had never been this close to the mansion before, scrambled to grab his make-shift glass knife, heart thumping painfully in his chest. 

Vok'Rul's tail lashed out suddenly and he couldn't help the flinch that wrestled its way out of him. But his tail didn't collide painfully with him, instead pushing him back firmly from the group of aliens. 

The servants only glanced at Viktor before arguing with Vok'Rul. Whatever they said, Vok'Rul ignored them, setting down his supplies - Viktor spied a duster, some rags, and what was probably a bottle full of cleaning solution - before he started... cleaning. 

The servants were obviously flummoxed, especially when Vok'Rul started physically smacking their hands away when they tried to take the supplies from him. Viktor was not a fan of all the smacking around that was happening. Even with his knife clutched in his hands. 

Not that he think he'd use it. He was more liable to cut himself than make any sort of scratch on these aliens. 

As it were, he slowly backed up and got off the porch without anyone seeing him. He fled to the Haunted Dumpster, taking solace in the fact that no one would find him out here.

Until someone did.

An alien exited backwards through the side door closest to the Dumpster, hauling what seemed to be the biggest bag of trash Viktor's ever seen. He quickly scampered out of sight, ducking behind the Dumpster quietly. 

Unfortunately, fate hated him, and he lost his footing briefly, bumping into the Dumpster. His knife screeched against the metal harshly, sending shivers of revulsion down his spine. Viktor looked at the alien, horror choking him as it turned around. 

The ringmaster. He hadn't killed him - he was standing right there! 

A strangled cry of anger and fear tore out of his throat as the alien stepped toward him, hands outstretched. He barely got his trembling hands under control, shoving the knife out in front of him defensively, when Vok'Rul rounded the corner. He looked pissed and concerned before his expression melted into one of confusion. 

"Thruul," he said, obviously speaking to the trash alien. Viktor couldn't take his eyes off it. "Fchs?" 

The ringmaster-lookalike gestured to him, and he flinched, dropping his knife reflexively as his hands went up to cover his head. But the alien didn't move any more than that. Viktor took a step back and bumped right into the Dumpster. 

He sucked much needed air into his lungs, digging his fingers into his bandaged throat. The lack of collar confused him, but it was Vok'Rul tha really pulled him out of whatever flashback hell he was in. 

"Kas tih, Kohgrash," he said, taking a few steps toward him and placing his hand on his head. The other hand gently pried his hands away from his throat. "Tas'kli Thruul." 

The ringmaster-lookalike laughed, and it was so unlike the actual ringmaster's that Viktor blinked and managed to take a deeper breath. "Thruul'kli, vokkra'mrr?" 

Vok'Rul got a weird look on his face - somewhere between embarrassed and disgustingly happy - before pulling away from Viktor and telling him something else. 

Viktor didn't really listen, intent on studying this... Thruul, instead. On second glance, he didn't look that similar to the ringmaster. Plus, the ringmaster was definitely dead, so he didn't need to worry about that. Unless these aliens can come back from the dead or something. 

He frowned. That would suck. 

Vok'Rul turned toward Thruul, taking the giant bag of trash from his hands. The alien threw up protests, but Vok'Rul didn't listen, merely smiling at him. As soon as his back was turned, Thruul's face also got that weird expression. 

And oh, Viktor got it now. 

They both watched as Vok'Rul effortlessly threw the bag into the Dumpster, one more intently than the other, and when he turned around with a proud grin on his face, Thruul acted nonchalant.  

Wow. Aliens, having crushes! That was bizarre. 

"Well, this is sickeningly cute and all," Viktor said loudly, picking up his knife and shoving it into the waistband of his pants. "But I gotta house to move. C'mon, big guy." 

Shoving the backs of Vok'Rul's legs got him nowhere, so he petulantly walked back to the porch alone, pleased to note that there were no more staff around. At least he didn't have to deal with threatening them away. 

The cleaning supplies sat innocently next to his broken house. Vok'Rul must have wanted to clean up the house, but did he really have to take it apart so callously? He scared Viktor half to death! He thought the alien was kicking him out. 

The ringmaster-lookalike - Thruul - and Vok'Rul came around the corner, engrossed in conversation. Viktor had never seen Vok'Rul quite like this. There was a small perpetual smile plastered on his face as he hunched over to get his face closer to Thruul's. Viktor wondered if they were married or something.

They looked so... happy. Viktor frowned in confusion. 

Thruul refused to let Vok'Rul do any of the cleaning, wiping down the sides of his house with efficiency. Vok'Rul protested loudly, but after a few too many swipes with a rag, the alien gave up on helping. Viktor didn't quite like this arrangement either - he barely knew Thruul, how come he got to clean his house? - but after a whiff of whatever cleaning chemical they used, he swiftly concluded that Thruul could clean instead. That shit stunk! 

Watching them struggle to put the house back together both amused and worried Viktor. What if it never got put back together?! But then they realized that the roof had been backwards and unable to snap in place. Viktor laughed at their incompetence. 

Vok'Rul growled playfully at him, and Viktor bared his teeth back teasingly. Even with the uneasy addition of Thruul, Viktor's never felt lighter. 

Vok'Rul finally started packing things away, and Viktor quickly shoved his belongings back into his house - with some difficulty; the bed was irritatingly hard to shove in through the door when he had to keep an eye on the ever-moving Thruul - before the alien lifted it with barely any effort. 

Viktor swore he almost saw Thruul swoon. 

As Viktor led the pair of aliens to where he wanted the house to be relocated, he pondered on the matter. Aliens... he's met a fair few in his - how long has it been now, two and a half years? - time here, and for the most part, he had thought he'd gotten them down. 

Mean, sadistic, and cruel. They loved to inflict pain on Viktor or they loved to stand by and watch. There had never been a kind alien in Viktor's life until Vok'Rul, and it seemed that nearly everyone else near him was like that, too. Thruul was nice - he didn't shout or stomp toward him. Only a nice alien could win Vok'Rul's affections, he was certain. Vok'Rul wouldn't love someone needlessly cruel. 

So, then... Not all aliens were mean. Viktor could finally admit that to himself. They were just like people. Some people were inherently nice, some indifferent, some cruel. 

FINALLY

Viktor jumped, whirling around to face the Haunted Dumpster. "Go away, ghosts!" he shouted. Foreign amusement itched his throat, and he fled the scene before the ghosts could keep him locked in place again. Fuck those ghosts! 

Vok'Rul started talking to the Dumpster, which made him think they were both going crazy, because there was no way ghosts were real. But the heaviness in the air dissipated and Vok'Rul carried on like nothing had happened, so maybe Viktor had just made it all up. 

God, this planet was weird. He was glad when the alien set up his house next to the fruit tree, plugged it in, and left him be, taking Thruul along with him. 

And as Viktor watched the pair stroll along the gardens from his heated sanctuary, he had to wonder if this was what the rest of his life was going to be like. He wasn't sure if he minded. 

*** 

Idly counting the number of pebbles on the ground was not particularly enriching, so when Vok'Rul came out of the mansion with a giant mirror, Viktor was understandably intrigued. 

He was less intrigued when the alien placed it in front of him, and Viktor finally got a good look at himself. 

"Phew, who's this handsome guy?" he said with false cheer, wincing at his appearance. He looked like crap. 

"Tih, Kohgrash'mrr'k, kli keti mr," Vok'Rul said, taking a seat next to him. Viktor had to quickly moved out of the way unless he wanted to be squashed by his giant tail. He reluctantly sidled up close to the alien at his request when it became clear that he wouldn't become a Viktor-pancake anytime soon. 

Vok'Rul had a strange marker in his hand, uncapping it with a buzz (buzzing markers - what else did they have, whistling paints?) and carefully moving toward Viktor. 

"Whoa, hey, this isn't a sleepover, man. You are not drawing dicks on me," he said in alarm, leaning backward. The alien swiftly made a line on Viktor's forehead and ignored any scowling and cursing Viktor threw his way. "Dude. Why?" 

Viktor got out of arm's reach after that, but when Vok'Rul angled the mirror toward him, he leaned in close, trying to figure out what, exactly, Vok'Rul had drawn on him.

It was a long black streak right in the middle of his forehead. Jesus. This shit better not be permanent marker. Viktor furiously rubbed at it, scowling at his reflection. 

Vok'Rul made a noise of happiness, like seeing Viktor ruining his... artwork was the best thing that could've happened to him. Yet another point to why Vok'Rul is a weirdo.

He excitedly leaned forward, marker poised, and Viktor got the hell of there before he had any more crazy ideas. Vok'Rul called after him, pout definitely shining through in his tone, but Viktor ignored him. 

He found out that it was permanent marker, because washing it vigorously fifteen times didn't seem to do anything but make it smudge. Curse Vok'Rul. 

He was only slightly mollified when the alien came out with a rag drenched in the worst smell Viktor's ever smelled and wiped his face clean - though not without many protests and insults hurled at him. Seriously, Viktor wasn't five! He could wash his own face! 

He got several delicious purple starfruits in apology, so he figured that he could forgive him. Just this once. 

Vok'Rul's weirdness didn't end with the mirror. He brought out a rather heavy-looking crate and encouraged Viktor to go inside. Viktor looked at him like he was stupid. He still went over to check out the box, anyway. 

He could easily fit inside it, but the thing that really threw him off were the random buttons scattered around the sides, hooked up to some sort of bowl at the bottom. Just as he was about to ask Vok'Rul why the hell a box with a billion buttons was so interesting that he had to show it to him, the alien pushed one. 

A horrible, grinding, screeching noise filled the air before pellets of food tumbled out into the tray below the button Vok'Rul had pressed. The alien left out a satisfied, surprised huff, as if he hadn't really expected that to work. 

Viktor was much more amenable to a magic food box than he was to a mirror, so he clambered in. Vok'Rul loomed over him and Viktor had to bare his teeth to get the alien to back out. The box wasn't that big, and he'd appreciate some room, thanks. 

Vok'Rul pointed to the button he had pressed before but made no move to trigger the food again. Viktor pressed it for him, delighted when even more food joined the pellets in the bowl. He swiftly shoved them into his mouth. He pressed the button again. More food. 

"Why didn't you show me this earlier?" he asked, pleased beyond belief. Despite his regular meals, Viktor would never say no to extra food. He barely had any fat on him as it was - he needed the sustenance! 

Vok'Rul rumbled something, going around the box and fiddling with whatever mechanisms deposited the food. Viktor was too busy eating to pay him much attention. He snapped his fingers to drag Viktor's attention away from the Button of Delicious Food. With an irritated pout, Viktor looked up. Vok'Rul pointed to something behind him. 

He turned, following Vok'Rul's claw to another button. "What, want me to press that one? Jeez, you're lazy," he joked, reaching over to smack it. Food came out of that one! Curious, he pressed the first one, but nothing came out of it. "You changed the buttons, huh? Real mean of you." 

Vok'Rul did this a few more times. Viktor wasn't an idiot - he knew how to follow someone's finger, so what was Vok'Rul trying to achieve? It wasn't like Viktor was overweight and in need of exercise, not that this activity was physically strenuous. 

Whatever. Viktor didn't particularly care. He got free food (all of his food was free, something remarked in his head sarcastically) and some amusement out of the whole ordeal. 

Vok'Rul eventually let him clamber out of the box after he had eaten his fill (the food had run out completely, much to Viktor's disappointment and Vok'Rul's exasperation), and Viktor was left in peace for several days. Until the alien came back with another strange scheme. 

He carried with him an assortment of odd things. A long, clear plastic tube, several equally long spikes, something that Viktor thought might be the alien equivalent of bolts, a rubber ball, and other odd knickknacks. He dropped them unceremoniously onto the ground, and Viktor watched with some amusement as the alien had to chase after the ball. 

After he returned, ball in hand, Vok'Rul sat on the ground in front of him, crossing his legs and looking eager. He picked up the clear tube, pointing to something in the middle before handing it to Viktor. 

He took it curiously, eyeing it with only a little suspicion that immediately melt away upon seeing what was inside. There was something green in there! And it looked edible. 

He tried shaking it free, but upon closer inspection, the blasted thing seemed to be lodged in there pretty good. Viktor immediately grabbed the nearest spike and speared the new fruit on it, pulling it out with little difficulty. He shoved it into his mouth amidst Vok'Rul's amazed exclamations. 

"I agree," he said through the mouthful of fruit. "This thing is amazing. Maybe not as great as the starfruit, but it's pretty good. Tastes like... green apple. Like those green apple Jolly Ranchers. Do you have a Jolly Rancher clone? Because that would be so sad if you didn't." 

Vok'Rul grabbed the forgotten tube before shoving another piece of fruit in there - if Viktor were braver, he'd tackle the alien to get the food, but he was a wimp and figured he'd get some more if he played along with whatever Vok'Rul was doing - and sliding some sheets of plastic into the tube through slots that Viktor hadn't noticed before. 

He gave it to Viktor again, looking thoroughly smug and curious. Viktor squinted at the tube - there were two small sheets of hard plastic guarding the green fruit - and tried picking at the slots with his fingernails. It didn't move much. 

He grabbed the spike again, wondering if he could slide the sheets up. It turned out that he could, and Viktor was rewarded for his ingenuity with another mouthful of delicious green-apple-flavored fruit. 

Vok'Rul's puzzles got harder and harder. He had to tie a string around a spike loosely enough to loop it around the fruit but tightly enough that it wouldn't just slide off the metal rod. He had to use the bolts to move the magnet trapped inside to push the fruit through the tube. He had to use the ball to catapult the fruit out of its plastic prison. 

Vok'Rul got both increasingly frustrated that Viktor was solving these so quickly and extremely impressed. Viktor chalked it up to his weirdness. 

He didn't think about it much until later that night. He sat up with a jolt in his heated house. "Oh, fuck," he whispered into the quiet. "This fucker is testing me!" 

He's heard about testing animals for their intelligence, but the only thing that came to mind was apes playing the Tower of Hanoi and crows using sticks to wedge open traps to release food. Was Vok'Rul testing him for intelligence? How far did it go? 

Hope burned in his throat before he quickly snuffed it out. There was no point, he told himself. Viktor knew the chances of Vok'Rul figuring out that humans were sentient were slimmer than his chances of growing several inches overnight. It was simply impossible. 

He should've figured it out by now. Unless the alien was stupider than Viktor had thought. 

"Ugh," he muttered into his arm, collapsing back onto the bed and trying to get a good night's rest. Whatever may come, he'd just have to roll with it. Hope did nothing except get his expectations up, and considering he was living in the backyard of some random rich guy, his situation couldn't get any worse. But there was no point in hoping for something better. It would never happen. 

But, a hopeful voice whispered, isn't the only way from rock bottom up? 

Viktor stared at the ceiling in silence before shutting his eyes and going to bed. He dreamed of blue skies and green grass. He dreamed of his friends. He dreamed of his dad. 

Hope. Only an idiot would hope. 

He became increasingly mulish over the next few days, snapping unfairly at Vok'Rul and refusing any of the apology fruit he'd give him. Because this wasn't Vok'Rul's fault, it was only Viktor's dumb brain that couldn't wrap itself around the idea that - that - 

That what? he asked himself one day while watching Vok'Rul "read". The guy was doing nothing more than staring at the same holographic pages of whatever book he held in his hands, gaze staring off into the distance. That there was a possibility for Vok'Rul to figure out they were sentient creatures capable of intelligent thought and that somehow, someway, he'd be able to single-handedly change their fate of being regarded as animals forever? 

It was ridiculous. And yet, a small, little, minute, atomic part of him held onto that ember of hope. 

He walked up to Vok'Rul, intent on apologizing for acting so crummy and cold toward him the past few days, but before he could even open his mouth to start, Vok'Rul showed him the book and started babbling. He probably took it as a good sign that Viktor was willingly walking up to him, he guessed. 

He even smiled when, the next day, Viktor was back to chatting with the alien. He looked incredibly relieved. Viktor felt guilty and even let the alien pet him briefly. 

His cold shoulder didn't seem to keep the alien down for long, though, since he was back to his regularly chatty self. Viktor thought they'd go back to normal - Vok'Rul would bring him some food a couple of times a day, sit in his chair and read for a while, talk senselessly, and repeat - but after all those puzzles, Viktor supposed he should have known better. 

He started talking to Viktor slowly and with purpose. It took Viktor a while to realize that the alien was, for lack of a better word, teaching him. 

If you could call this teaching. 

"Kohgrash, keti-" he had figured out that one meant "pay attention or I'm not giving you any fruit" rather quickly - "Tas 'trihk'." The alien pointed at a tree. 

"Trick," Viktor drawled with immense boredom, holding out his hands for a piece of fruit. Vok'Rul rolled his eyes, likely aware that he wasn't trying his hardest to mimic the words anymore. Considering this was the fortieth word in how many hours that Vok'Rul's urged him to repeat, Viktor felt he had the right to slack off. 

It wasn't like it was really sticking. 

He'd point at the ground, then at the ground again, only to say a completely different word. It wasn't until Viktor had followed Vok'Rul's pointing claw with his own that he realized he'd been pointing at a fucking flower. Viktor had refused the fruit on principle, then. 

Vok'Rul quickly figured out the flaw in his plan, especially when Viktor would stubbornly repeat the word he had just gotten told before. He started to physically hold up the item, but alas, some things were too big for him to hold. Thus, the pointing at the tree. 

"Jjrrr-" Vok'Rul's word ended with a series of growls and clicks that Viktor couldn't hope to replicate if his life depended on it. They both huffed in obvious frustration with each other. 

"Just give me the fruit, man. You aren't teaching me jack. Why do you aliens need to train animals the word tree, anyway?" he said. 

He's not teaching you tricks, he's teaching you how to speak, something hopeful whispered. He squashed it. It was easy to ignore, especially when Vok'Rul repeated the word for fetch and expected him to chase after the piece of fruit he had just tossed. 

It fell to the ground behind Viktor with a sad, muffled thump. Vok'Rul looked at him with disappointment. 

"I don't eat stuff off the ground," he told the alien imperiously. Vok'Rul rolled his eyes as if he could understand him and reached forward to simply hand him the fruit instead. 

Vok'Rul was terrible at teaching Viktor. He got way too excited when Viktor would perfectly mimic him and declare him knowledgeable of that word before moving on to something else. It didn't matter to him if Viktor promptly forgot the word - he wasn't a supergenius, there was no way that he'd be able to remember a billion words he's been told after one time - the alien wanted to cram as much vocab into the human as he possibly could. 

Viktor gave up trying after the third day. 

"Krih, Kohgrash, krih," the alien pleaded, waving a piece of fruit in front of his face. "Trsk'kn mr!" 

Viktor shot him a venomous glare that - instead of cowering back like he had hoped - only made the alien perk up. Damnit, Viktor! Just ignore him! 

It was hard, though. The alien was his source of food. Delicious, fruity, food...

Stop! He's tricking you! 

"Neyk!" Viktor said loudly, turning around abruptly to face him head-on. That was their word for 'no', right? He couldn't actually remember. His mind swam with a bunch of useless words he could remember the meaning to. "Lii'ro trihk twk drsh!" 

Oh, yeah. That had definitely been some foul curse words. The shocked silence from Vok'Rul told him as much. Until the big bastard started laughing. 

"God, you suck," Viktor struggled to stay mad, but he thought he'd made a valiant effort nonetheless. Still, fueled by irritation, he tried again. "Kohgrash neyk srret-" that was speak, right? "-Vok'Rul... bribes with uh... fuck, what was fruit- drrsk?" 

Vok'Rul looked offended. Okay. That word had definitely not been fruit. His offense was washed away by his excitement, however, and Viktor realized that he had just given in to the alien's demand of talking with him. Ugh! 

"Tih," he huffed, voice stricken with awe. He looked at Viktor like he was a marvel of nature. His face quickly crumpled into one of concern. "Tih. Tih. Tih, tih, tih..." 

The alien trailed off, standing up and looking extremely worried. Viktor felt some of that worry pool in his gut. "Whoa, hey, didn't mean to offend you," he tried to placate the alien, lifting his hands in surrender. Vok'Rul barely glanced at him, dropping all of the fruit he had into his hands before muttering out a quick zhesh and fleeing. 

Viktor blinked and tried not to think about how amusingly strange this alien was. Tried not to think about how much he had grown to appreciate that. 

He failed. He definitely failed. A smile crawled onto his face that he quickly swept away by biting into the fruit Vok'Rul had left him. 

***

When the knocking came at his window later in the week, blanketed in the darkness of night, Viktor blearily wondered if this was going to become some sort of routine. Vok'Rul runs away, Viktor goes to bed, Vok'Rul wakes him up in the middle of the night to act weird... 

Whatever. The alien probably had some food with him. He had left before filling up his dish that evening. 

He opened the door, squinting against the bright lights that automatically came on at his movement. He hated that they weren't attached to some sort of switch so he could just turn them on manually, but he supposed that most animals wouldn't know how to use a light switch of all things. 

As expected, there he was, looking at him with a forlorn expression. 

"I dunno what's up with you and your mood swings," Viktor commented through a yawn, shuffling out onto the plastic porch and wrapping his blanket around himself as much as he could, "but you don't have to-" 

"Flakmmn, Kohgrash," Vok'Rl wailed loudly, waking Viktor up rather abruptly. The alien dropped to the floor, and man, he looked really upset this time. Viktor smiled at him. 

"It's fine, Vok'Rul. Whatever your deal is." He tried to think about what could have upset him so much. "I was just joking when I said you were... I think dirty was the word. Or smelly. Whatever, but seriously, I wasn't mad." 

But Vok'Rul wasn't listening to him. He muttered something to himself, and Viktor had to strain to hear it, considering he was talking into the dirt. "Imrie mrt ah. Imrie mrt ah." 

Whatever that meant. Viktor knew enough alien-ese to know that imrie meant 'I' but that was the extent of what he could parse from that sentence. Hesitantly, Viktor reached out and patted Vok'Rul on the head. Surprisingly, his horns weren't hard like a goat's, but rather softer... like a fingernail. 

Vok'Rul whipped his head up at the touch, and Viktor snatched his hand back at the sudden movement, giving the alien a scowl. "Yeesh, last time I comfort you," he told him. Vok'Rul only stared at him for a while before blowing out a huge sigh. They were close enough that the edges of Viktor's blanket ruffled. He was just glad he wasn't close enough to smell his breath. 

"Tokka, Kohgrash, imrie... khash tas mor. Ney...'kli ktrrtk mr, tih? Krih?" Vok'Rul dropped his gaze at the end of the sentence, muttering under his breath, "Cperoh, imrie jyunii." 

Viktor really wasn't sure what that meant - the alien spoke too quickly for him to pick out any words of substance, but he looked really depressed. He reached out and patted the side of his face with another attempt at a comforting smile. 

"Tas tih," he reassured. It didn't seem to help him much, but Vok'Rul's face grew from morose to eerily determined, though there were still tinges of sadness clinging to his edges. 

Viktor wondered when he had gotten so good at reading Vok'Rul's expressions. Hadn't he once thought that they were nearly emotionless? But his emotions were clear for anyone to see. 

Vok'Rul pulled away, and to Viktor's delight, gave him some food. He dragged his chair over while the human ate, and he wasn't that surprised when the alien collapsed in a heap and looked like he had no intentions to move. 

Viktor picked his way to the fountain after eating his fill to get a drink of water - really, the only downside of moving away from that thing was the lack of easy access to fresh water. Not that it was any real hardship since all Viktor had to do was take a merry stroll through the gardens to reach it. The point still stood - and when he came back, Vok'Rul was fast asleep. He looked exhausted. 

He didn't even have a blanket. Jeez, did this guy want to freeze to death? Viktor quickly rectified that, throwing his own over the alien. He had a spare in the house, anyway. 

He couldn't get the blanket to cover Vok'Rul's chest - he was way too high up and Viktor would have to climb onto the chair and risk waking Vok'Rul - but he got most of his stomach and legs covered. He gave the alien a few reassuring pats on the knee and crawled back into his own house. 

Just as he was falling asleep, Viktor realized something damning. Sometime between the months of being fed and gifted houses and blankets and treated nicely, he had become fond of the bastard.

He decided that was a problem for future Viktor and rolled over to sleep.

***

Time rolled by. Viktor's days consisted of much the same thing: wake up, eat breakfast, wash his face, and find something to do before his evening meal. Sometimes, it was harder to do that last bit, but he always ended up with something. More or less. Once, he had spent an entire week rearranging the rocks along a flowerbed. Largest to smallest. Vok'Rul didn't notice, but the alien he had seen flit around the grounds to water certain plants once or twice definitely had, scowling at him. 

When he investigated the next day, the rocks were all back to their original place. Viktor then spent the next several days in a war with the gardener until he found what looked like rat poison sitting innocently on the rocks. It didn't look even remotely tasty, and when Viktor had shown Vok'Rul the plate of bright orange pellets, the alien looked apoplectic. 

"Ney norish!" Vok'Rul shouted at him, and it was only because Vok'Rul's never shouted at him before that Viktor froze in shock rather than fear. The alien must have mistaken it for fear, however, because he immediately looked incredibly guilty. "Flakmmn. Kas ney tih, Kohgrash. Kas kora."

Viktor did flee, then, despite knowing that Vok'Rul was just trying to explain to him that the food was bad. That the food had been poisoned. That he shouldn't eat it. He knew all this. Christ, he had led the alien to it so he could take it away. He still barricaded himself in his heated house and tried to think of anything except the ringmaster's shocked, dead gaze peering at him through dissolved flesh. 

He was brought out of his depressing musings when he heard shouting and begging across the garden. His curiosity won out over his caution, and before he knew it, he was creeping toward the commotion. Vok'Rul had the gardener by the neck, looking livid. There were several other aliens, guards and servants alike, watching on with either detached interest or awe-inspired wariness. 

Viktor jumped when Vok'Rul slammed the gardener into the ground, shoving its face next to the poison. He was spitting mad, seething and shouting what were probably impressive insults going by the looks on the others' faces. 

"Flakmna, O'Vokkra, imrie ney dre'l-"  the gardener pleaded. "Kas ney prre!" 

"Norat'k," Vok'Rul hissed. The alien stilled, looking at him with wide eyes. "Norat'k!" 

The alien didn't move, and Vok'Rul huffed mockingly as if he had expected it. "Byr. Ta ka ney gnn' mrr Kohgrash. Byr o gnrak." Vok'Rul lifted the alien to its feet effortlessly, shoving it toward the back of the mansion. It barely got its feet underneath it before it bowed clumsily. 

"Teyk, O'Vokkra, flakmna'sh, flakmna'sh!" the gardener spluttered out before high-tailing it back to the mansion. 

Vok'Rul shooed away the other aliens after shoving the plate of poison into someone's chest, radiating irritation in waves. Once the others hightailed it out of there, Viktor crept up cautiously. 

Despite the alien's viciousness - the fact that even the kindest alien could turn mean - Viktor couldn't help but feel a bit touched that someone - that Vok'Rul - threatened someone for him.

Wow, he was getting pretty bloodthirsty. Viktor supposed that no human contact for months on end would do that to you. 

"Hey," he said warily because even though Vok'Rul had defended him didn't mean that Viktor had shed all his well-earned paranoia around an angry alien. "You okay?" 

The tension bled out of Vok'Rul's shoulders as he turned around slowly and crouched in front of him. He smiled gently and said, "Rohsh, Kohgrash'mrr'k. Flakmmn. Ta ka tih?" 

"Tas tih," Viktor parroted back. He smiled at the alien nervously. Vok'Rul reached out slowly and Viktor prided himself for not flinching, especially when his claws settled gently on his hair. 

"Imrie norish, tih? Mr'kli. Imrie," he pointed to himself, "norish." 

It took Viktor a second before he could work it out. Take food from only Vok'Rul. He rolled his eyes. "As if I would take anything from anyone else, you idiot," he scoffed. "You're the only one I trust." 

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he both regretted them and knew them to be true. Aw, well. It wasn't like the alien could understand him. But Vok'Rul just smiled at him like he had known what Viktor said, anyway. 

Several days after that fiasco, where Viktor found himself rather bored without a gardener to wage war against, Vok'Rul appeared with something bulky in his ear. 

"What's that?" he asked, pointing to his own ear. Vok'Rul looked super happy, and upon hearing him, jumped in place. His tail started wagging. 

"Kohgrash!" he nearly squealed. "Imrie dre'l ta! O, Cperoh!" The overexcited alien lunged forward suddenly as if to pet him. Viktor did not squeak in surprise as he hastily took a few steps backward. 

"Whoa! Cool your jets, man!" Viktor yelped. Vok'Rul kept coming, though, and settled his hands gently on his shoulders. The alien shook him slightly, too lost in his excitement. Viktor didn't know what was going on, but he was pretty glad the alien had found something to be happy about. He had been pretty morose after sending that gardener running. 

"Imrie mrt'a ah! Tas tih! Kohgrash, ka mrt tih," Vok'Rul beamed at him. 

"I don't understand a word you're saying," Viktor said, reaching up to pry Vok'Rul's hands off his shoulders and patting them. "But good for you, man." 

Vok'Rul harrumphed, getting an inquisitive look on his face. He obediently pulled back and pulled out his phone, tapping on it hurriedly. Viktor rolled his eyes. Whenever the alien had his phone out, he was practically guaranteed to disappear in the next few minutes. 

As expected, the alien absent-mindedly reached out to pet his hair, stepping away just as Viktor swatted at him. He said a quick zhesh! before hurrying back to the mansion. 

"Bring me some green fruit next time!" he hollered after the alien. Vok'Rul jerked and turned around to face him. Viktor was too far away to see his expression, so he just lifted his hand in a wave before turning around and figuring out what to do with the rest of his day. 

He was pleasantly surprised when the alien actually got him the green fruit. 

It didn't really stop after that. Vok'Rul just acted like he knew what Viktor was saying. Maybe they've just spent that much time together. Still, it was a bit weird, even if Viktor was gladly reaping the benefits of getting whatever fruit and food he requested. He decided not to think about it. Maybe it was the Dumpster's ghosts at work or maybe it was something else entirely. He certainly wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

"Rohsh, Kohgrash! Prosh jok, cho'k! Mor, 'blh'n ihk!" Vok'Rul said loudly, intercepting Viktor on his morning walk around the garden to shove... something under his nose. 

"Hello to you, too," he said with wary amusement, taking a few steps backward to inspect whatever it was that Vok'Rul held in his hand. It was oblong, tapering off into a stubby end. "Uhm," he gestured vaguely to his hand, "what?" Vok'Rul let out a weird, maniacal giggle when he spoke, which was weird.

"Tash!" he said cheerfully, eyes alight with fervor excitement. Wow, this guy was way too happy to see him. 

"Norish?" he asked, peering at it skeptically. Didn't look like food. 

Vok'Rul laughed like the dickhead he was. "Neyk, ney norish. Retir Kohgrash." 

Viktor heard neyk and was uninterested. "Come back with food, then we'll talk," he joked, eyeing the device before brushing past Vok'Rul to continue with his stroll. "Who am I to know that's not a weird mind control thing?" he called over his shoulder, grinning at the alien. 

He heard him huff behind him, and then slow stomping footsteps. Viktor surreptitiously angled his body sideways so that the alien was in his line of sight. He trusted Vok'Rul not to scoop him up and throw him in a cage, trusted him enough to sleep next to him (albeit in a rather protected box), trusted him enough to eat his food, but Viktor wasn't sure if he could trust anyone walking behind him. 

"Kohgrash," the alien whined, quickly catching up with him and shoving his open palm in front of his face gain. "Krih! 'Blh'n ihk."

Alright, this was getting a little sketchy. Why was he so persistent on giving this... thing to him? Viktor squinted at Vok'Rul. "Go away and take your weird thing with you," he huffed, ignoring Vok'Rul's sad pout. The alien did as he was told, which was a bit surprising.

He had peace for all of a few hours before Vok'Rul returned with a green-apple-flavored fruit in one hand and the device in his other. Viktor blinked but held out his hand for the fruit. Vok'Rul didn't relinquish it immediately, which meant Viktor was going to be put through the wringer to get it. 

"Aw, c'mon, man," Viktor complained as the alien snatched his hand back to his chest when Viktor lunged forward to get it. He employed his best pair of puppy eyes. "Gimme the fruit, pretty please?" 

Vok'Rul almost folded. His eyes got really big, and he made an aborted cooing sound before he pulled himself together. "Mor, Kohgrash," he said firmly, holding out the hand with the device. 

"Rats," he muttered under his breath, switching his pleading expression to a scowl. Vok'Rul shook his hand insistently. "I don't want your conditional fruit, jerk." 

Vok'Rul bothered him all day. Viktor wasn't really sure why he was being so stubborn - the little thing probably wouldn't even hurt him - but the last time he had interacted with an alien device had been the collar around his neck and Viktor.... didn't really care for alien inventions that much.  

"Don't you have a job?!" he snapped at the alien after the idiot kept stomping after him in the woods. He didn't go in often, but he was bored out of his mind and wanted to find some sticks to build something with. But after the alien had nearly bowled him over for the fifth time - the dude was clumsier than a bull in a china shop, Viktor swore - and he only just managed to get out of the way, he was getting pretty irritated. 

Vok'Rul's eyes grew wide and he stilled for a second before he hissed what Viktor could only assume was a curse before he turned tail and followed his path of wreckage back to the mansion. 

Viktor stared after him and shrugged, mildly pleased that worked but feeling off. 

It took until he was back in his house to ward off the chill, arms full of various sizes of sticks, that he realized Vok'Rul acted like he had understood him. Like beyond knowing what words Viktor used for certain fruits. That had been due to constant exposure. There was knowing what sort of meow your cat did when it wanted food and then there was this. Viktor's never used the word job before, right? 

A weird coincidence, he told himself dismissively before he got to work using his scraps of cloth to tie his sticks together.  

After making the absolute worst basket in the entire world (maybe Viktor was his harshest critic... It could hold his bowl for a brief second before it broke through the leaves he had weaved into the bottom, so at least it could hold something?) Vok'Rul returned in a less chipper mood than before. 

"Did your sister or whatever yell at you again?" he asked sympathetically, making the alien jump and whirl around to face him. The sudden movement made Viktor jump in turn. They both looked at each other for a second before Viktor spluttered a laugh. "Damn, you're jumpy." 

"Tas retikul," Vok'Rul grumbled fondly before cracking a smile with every tooth.

"I take offense to whatever you said," Viktor sniped back in a falsely haughty tone. The words seemed to knock Vok'Rul out of whatever work-induced funk he was in, and he excitedly began chattering at him. 

As was customary, Vok'Rul took his bowl inside to fill it up. When he returned, though, he had the look on his face that Viktor had quickly learned that he was about to barter his food for something that Viktor would be reluctant to do. Tricks and learning different words were all things Viktor had no energy to do when the sun was almost setting. 

"C'mon," he complained, scowling at him. Vok'Rul feigned innocence. "Dude, I know you're about to do something stupid." 

Vok'Rul looked very pleased. He crouched down and set the bowl in front of him. Viktor frowned. Okay? He had conquered his wariness of getting close to Vok'Rul ages ago. Why was he trying to get Viktor close? 

Whatever. Weird aliens aside, Viktor had worked up an appetite weaving together sticks and leaves, so he tromped over eagerly. But before he could grab the bowl and retreat, Viktor blocked it with his hand. And, lo and behold, it held that device he's been trying to give him all day. Viktor stared at him, unimpressed. 

"How original," he said sarcastically. He stilled, watching Vok'Rul's shoulders loosen just barely as the alien relaxed. In one quick movement, Viktor lunged for the bowl. 

Unfortunately, Vok'Rul was quicker and snatched the bowl back, elbowing Viktor right in the stomach in his haste to take the bowl away from him. Viktor crumpled to the ground with a wheezing groan. 

"Awww, Jesus," he coughed. 

"Cperoh, Kohgrash! Flakmmn, flakmmn!" Vok'Rul cried, forgetting the bowl and device to hover over him. He didn't touch him, which Viktor was grateful for. "Ka ta tih?! Cperoh!" 

"Chill out," he wheezed, sitting up. He coughed a few more times, feeling his stomach twinge in discomfort. The alien had a mean elbow. "Damn. So you abuse innocent animals, now?" he joked, feeling as though something was missing in how he was feeling. Something important.

"Neyk!" he cried out, hands hovering over Viktor's shoulders. Viktor waved them away, standing up. "Flakmmn." 

"Relax, it's fine," Viktor tried to soothe him, patting his hand. "It's like stepping on your dog's paw by accident. 'Cept I know you're sorry. But you owe me like, a billion fruits." 

Vok'Rul stood up swiftly, making Viktor jump in surprise, before practically sprinting back to the mansion. What the fuck. Elbow a poor animal in your backyard and flee to your house immediately after? Kind of a dick move.

Viktor took this beautiful opportunity to eat the food he's gotten thumped for. It was only when he had finished the bowl that he realized what he had been missing. 

The complete lack of fear. There had been none in his system when Vok'Rul had accidentally hit him. He had never gotten smacked before without feeling scared. At least, not since coming to this planet. It was... an odd feeling, he had to admit. 

And when Vok'Rul returned with a whole bunch of green and purple fruits, Viktor decided that he could live with that. The alien didn't even try to get him to take that weird black thing. 

All remorse was gone from Vok'Rul the next morning, however, especially since he tapped on his window to wake him up right before the sun rose. 

"Your stupid ugly sun isn't even up yet!" he shouted through the door. Vok'Rul rattled it, unable to open it due to the wedged stick Viktor had shoved against it. Just 'cause he trusted Vok'Rul to an extent didn't mean that he was going to sleep completely undefended.

"Mrr srah ney ka fre'k!" Vok'Rul replied in an offended tone. Huh. He must've figured Viktor insulted him. 

Vok'Rul kept knocking on his door - mercifully, he gave up trying to break in - and Viktor admitted defeat. He kicked the stick out of its spot and wrenched open the door, ignoring the crack it emitted when it smacked against the side of the house. "What?!" he growled, pinning Vok'Ru with the fiercest glare he could muster. 

It sucked being thought of as an animal because all Vok'Rul did was coo at him before sobering up and presenting him with his hand. That stupid thing! 

"I am plotting your murder," he hissed, moving to slam the door back in his face. "You are going to be sleeping so nicely and then I will come up there and smother you with a pillow. Then I'll come to your stupid grave every day and knock on your dumb tombstone right before dawn and see how you like it." 

Vok'Rul made a long impressed noise. Whatever he said, Viktor wasn't interested. He scowled at him and stuck out his tongue before slamming the door right in his stupid, spikey face. 

Vok'Rul whined outside the door like he was an animal before leaving Viktor alone after it became clear that he was not going to leave the house. All threads of sleep had practically vanished from him by this point, but it was the principle of the matter. He wasn't going to give in, damn it! 

He dozed, somehow managing to keep something sleepy in him, and was awoken again by the alien. This time, though, it wasn't really purposeful. 

The alien was sitting on his chair, speaking to someone. Viktor tensed, peering out of the window after slowly inching toward it. 

"Wow," he mouthed to himself upon seeing the holographic image of an unfamiliar alien sitting on Vok'Rul's palm. That was some super fancy sci-fi shit. 

Vok'Rul spoke mournfully, palming that black thing he's been trying to give Viktor for the last few days. He couldn't keep his eyes off it while he spoke to the other alien. The other spoke in between bursts of Vok'Rul's sullen monologing, sounding reassuring. Viktor huffed. Now he felt bad. 

Curiosity prickled at him. What was that thing? Why did Vok'Rul want him to take it so damn bad? Viktor wasn't even really sure what it was. 

Well, he supposed, there was really no time like the present to find out. Plus, if he acted all grumpy and put out, maybe the alien would give him some extra fruit at dinner. Y'know, for waking him up and all. 

As soon as he walked out of the house with a stretch, Vok'Rul swiftly said his goodbyes to the other alien on the phone. Viktor appreciated it - even if they weren't here physically, the alien could still recognize him. It'd be best if no one else knew where he was, especially if they even had the faintest link back to the arena. And well, it helped that Viktor knew Vok'Rul wouldn't just let him get taken. Still, there was nothing he could do if the arena had some sort of legal advantage. 

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts - seriously, it was way too early to be thinking of alien laws - Viktor said, "Morning, Vok'Rul. I'm super well-rested from my uninterrupted slumber." 

Vok'Rul snorted and Viktor got that weird feeling in his gut again. "Prosh jok, cho'k,"  he replied easily, hiding the device with a curl of his fingers. Viktor fought not to roll his eyes. He knew it was there. 

Viktor walked over to him and pointed at his hand, "Gimme. I wanna see what it is." 

Vok'Rul brightened, nearly taking out Viktor's eye with the speed at which he unfurled his hand and shoved it toward him. Viktor reared back, squinting at the alien. He brought his attention back to the device after Vok'Rul offered him a sheepish, "Flakmmn." 

It sat in his palm like a rock. When Viktor poked it, it did nothing. Vok'Rul huffed out a laugh. "Ka ney gnn ta," he reassured, tapping the device with his other hand. His claws clicked against it, but otherwise, it just sat there. 

"Alright," he conceded. The thing was harmless. Now he just had to figure out what it did. "Show me your secrets, weird thingy," he demanded, picking it up and bringing it close to his face. Vok'Rul went really still, and when Viktor glanced up at his face, hope was splattered all over his expression.

"Well, what's it do, then?" he asked, turning his attention back to it. Now that he had it in his hands, he could see that it was a bit squishy at the tapered end. It actually looked like an earbud. He held it up to his ear to listen. 

Vok'Rul exploded in a flurry of words, voice loud and abrupt. Viktor jumped out of his skin, dropping the damn thing on the ground. Vok'Rul muttered what had to be a curse and an apology. 

Viktor picked it up, shooting Vok'Rul an exasperated look. "Relax, dude. Jesus, you really want me to... to what? Put it on?" It sort of looked like something he'd put in his ear. Did he want to though?

Vok'Rul nodded vigorously, and the weird feeling reared its ugly head again. Before he could lose his nerve, Viktor blew off the dirt on the earpiece and shoved it in. Vok'Rul looked like he was holding his breath when he slowly moved toward Viktor, placing his claws on the device. He saw the alien's wrist move and suddenly, there was a terribly loud buzzing noise in his ear. 

"Hello, my little Kohgrash," Vok'Rul whispered, eyes wide. Viktor's mouth dropped open. 

The alien barely let him get his bearings. "Oh, I've been waiting for so long! You finally took it! Spirits, this is wonderful!" He quickly got up from his chair, waving his arms around. Despite his shock, Viktor still flinched, bringing his hands up halfway to his head. Vok'Rul noticed and tried to stomp on his enthusiasm. "Oh Spirits, I'm sorry, Kohgrash. I suppose now I can finally find out why you're so jumpy! You- You can understand me, right? Kohgrash?"

"You... can talk," he said slowly, the words too big to come out of his mouth. He felt... all sorts of things. Relief, bewilderment, shock, surprise - the list went on. The most prominent thing he felt, though, was smug satisfaction. "I knew there was something up with you! You- You kept getting me fruit!" 

"I do that every day!" Vok'Rul laughed. 

"The right sort of fruit!" Viktor shouted before quelling his voice to a whisper. "Oh, my God. You can understand me." 

"Yes. Yes! And you can understand me! We understand each other!" Vok'Rul prattled on while Viktor struggled to digest this. Good lord, this was embarrassing. How long had Vok'Rul been able to understand him? What if he said something humiliating? He was going to run away. He was going to leave and never look this guy in the eyes ever again. 

"And I've wanted to tell you all sorts of things for a while now-" he continued. This meant a lot of things, Viktor realized. A lot of things that Viktor didn't have the capability to process right now. Like, proving humanity's sentience. This guy was important, sure, but how far did Vok'Rul's power reach? Was he just some stuffy rich guy, or was he, like, the mayor of the city they were in? Maybe he knew some people that could get the ball rolling. 

The thought of getting his friends out of the arena made his heart swell with something that he knew to be dangerous.  

"Kohgrash, come inside, please? You've been sleeping in that miserable crate for months now - won't you like a real bed?" Vok'Rul pleaded, and that was enough to jolt him from the numb sort of daze he's been trapped in. 

"Miserable crate?!" he yelped, offended on behalf of his house. "That thing is a mansion!" 

Vok'Rul scoffed. "It was the best thing they had at the store, but it still was nothing to what you deserved. Really, you shouldn't have been so stubborn in accepting my help! I could have taken you to get something better! All I really knew was that you were cold! Oh, Kohgrash, there's a store in the city over where they sell all sorts of pet houses - not that you're a pet, of course!" 

Wow, Vok'Rul was even more annoying when he could understand him. 

"-and there was one with a built-in food dispenser, and another with some cameras to monitor you-" 

Viktor wondered if Vok'Rul ever breathed. His throat closed up with emotion.

"But that isn't important, right now! Kohgrash. You're probably hungry. Would you please come inside? I have a lot of fruit for you," Vok'Rul said cajolingly. Viktor grew tense despite himself. 

Outside was freedom. He could go anywhere. Viktor could flee this sanctuary of a backyard and hope to find somewhere else just as nice, just as safe. 

Inside was cages and fights. Viktor knew this. He knew that, as soon as he stepped over that threshold, there was a very real possibility that he'd never be able to leave again. His paranoia was telling him that Vok'Rul could be lying to him - that this could be a ploy. Maybe this device had dosed him with some odorless drug that was making him hallucinate and come up with this crazy situation in order to lure him inside.

Good lord, did Viktor even hear himself? This was Vok'Rul. Vok'Rul, who didn't retaliate when he chucked food at him. Who gave him fruits and jerky and pellets and water. Who bought an entire heated mansion for him. Who bought him clothes. Who got his stupid collar off. Who kicked out a mean gardener and saved him from grabby children's hands. 

Vok'Rul who, without any reason to, was the kindest alien Viktor's ever met. 

Like it or not, Viktor trusted this guy. That dangerous feeling in his chest - this hope - only grew, demanding to be set free. Viktor wanted to hope. He wanted to hope for things to get better. Viktor was sick of going day to day, waiting for something to change. He was sick of surviving. Viktor wanted to live. 

Living meant putting his trust and hope in the hands of an alien that could very well rend it obsolete in a second. But Vok'Rul would never do that. 

This was Vok'Rul. 

So, without any more thought, Viktor licked his lips, steeled himself, and whispered, "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that." 

***

A/N: A bunch of plot ideas that never made it into the main book (for obvious reasons, haha) but didn't quite leave me alone! I think this turned out pretty well, though! Even if it ran pretty long. Hope you guys enjoyed!

If you have any suggestions/ideas for more on-shots, whether it be requests for a certain character's POV throughout the events of ISOH or another AU, I'm open to them! I'm also thinking of doing a part two to this AU - partly about what comes after Vok'Rul's discovery of the humans' sentience :)

***

Vocabulary (phrases in order of appearance):

Prosh: good

Pora: come here

Byr to rrnkt: Go to the ring

Kora, Kohgrash, ta ka sh kora: Bad, Kohgrash, you are so bad

Ro: hey!

Cho'k: little one

OVokkra, imrie ney-: O Vokkra, I'm not-

Ka tash drsh: Is this your fruit?

Byr: go

Kas mirmak: Is that the mammal?

Fchs ka tash kry: What is [on] your neck?

Kas tih, cho'k. Imrie ney gnn ta: It's okay, little one, I won't hurt you

Kor: stay

Fchs? Kas tih: What? It's okay

Kas tih, cho'k: it's okay, little one

Teyk! Norish! Ta ka awshk, cho'k: Yes! Food! You are smart, little one

Mor, cho'k, kas tih! Mor ta lyr. Ka tash: Here, little one, it's okay! Here you go. It's yours

Rohsh: a friendly greeting, like hello

Ta ka sh drrsk, Kohgrash. Y'k jmri. Imrie ktyn imr awhs ta: You are so dirty, Kohgrash. Poor thing. I wish I [could] bathe you.

Pora, Kohgrash. Imrie ktyn 'blh'n rreki tash kry: Come here, Kohgrash. I want to take [that] collar [off] your neck

Byr to mrio, Kohgrash'mrr'k: Go to sleep, my little Kohgrash

Ta ka rrah mr, Kohgrash? Flakmnn!: Are you mad [at] me? Sorry!

Ta ka to awshk, Kohgrash'mrr'k: You are too smart, my little Kohgrash

Flakmnn, cho'k. Flakmnn'sh: I'm sorry, little one. I am so sorry.

Ta shr'jjy!: You laugh!

Tas drrsk: You're filthy

Fchs? O, kis't?: What? Oh, this? 

Neyk, Kohgrash. Ney. Kora: No, Kohgrash. Stop. Naughty

Ney. Imrie 'blh'n rreki'myr: Stop. I'm take[ing] [this] collar off

Keti. Tas ti'rosh: Look. You're all better [now]

Srret: speak

Teyk, norish! Prosh, Kohgrash: Yes, food! Good, Kohgrash

Kyr: neck

Ta ka gnn, cho'k?: Are you hurt, little one?

Rreki: collar

Tas rreki, Kohgrash? Cperoh, kas ky'ka vyrr mr: Your collar, Kohgrash? Spirits, it's like you understand me.

Ta ka awshk, Kohgrash. To awshk. Whf ta trsk 'awshk'?: You are smart, Kohgrash. Too smart. Can you say 'smart'? 

OVokkra, krih byr: O Vokkra, please go

Neyk. Imrie tih: No. I'm fine. 

Imrie tih. Imrie t'rrr Kohgrash: I'm fine. I have Kohgrash

Ro! Keti! Mirmak: Hey, look! [A] mammal!

Pora, mirmak: Come here, mammal! 

Nohkka, poran. Tas kli mirmak: Nohkka, c'mon. It's just [a] mammal

Imrie neyv keti: I've never seen [one]

Fchs tas frh'n: What are you [doing] up [there]?

Mirmak, Tor'Rul: [A] mammal, Uncle Rul

Ffssk'a: Mama

Nohkka! Vro's dreshi, 'bln byr!: Nohkka! He's dangerous, let go!

Fchs, Kohgrash? Ney gnn': What, Kohgrash? [It's] not broken 

Kas tih, Kohgrash. Tas'kli Thruul: It's okay, Kohgrash. It's just Thruul

Thruul'kli, vokkra'mrr: Just Thruul, my lord?

Tih, Kohgrash'mrr'k, kli keti mr: Okay, my little Kohgrash, just watch me

Krih, Kohgrash, krih. Trsk'kn mr!: Please, Kohgrash, please. Talk with me! 

Neyk. Lii'ro trihk twk drsh!: No. Flower tree bowl fruit!

Kohgrash neyk srret. Vok'Rul drrsk: Kohgrash not speak. Vok'Rul stinks

Imrie mrt ah. Imrie mrt ah: I will fix this. I will fix this. 

Tokka, Kohgrash, imrie... khash tas mor. Ney...'kli ktrrtk mr, tih? Krih? Cperoh, imrie jyunii: Thank you, Kohgrash, I'm... happy you're here. Just... don't hate me, okay? Please? Spirits, I'm [a] fool.

Ney norish. Flakmmn. Kas ney tih, Kohgrash. Kas kora: Not food. Sorry. It's not okay, Kohgrash. It's bad.

Flakmna, O'Vokkra, imrie ney dre'l- Kas ney prre!: I apologize, O Vokkra, I didn't know- It's not poison!

Norat'k: [Then] eat it.

Byr. Ta ka ney gnn' mrr Kohgrash. Byr o gnrak: Go. You will not hurt my Kohgrash. Go or die.

Teyk, O'Vokkra, flakmna'sh, flakmna'sh: Yes, O Vokkra, I am so sorry, I am so sorry.

Rohsh, Kohgrash'mrr'k. Flakmmn. Ka ta tih?: Hello, my little Kohgrash. I'm sorry. Are you okay?

Imrie norish, tih? Mr'kli. Imrie ... norish: I'll [give] food, okay? Just me. I... food. 

Imrie dre'l ta! O, Cperoh: I knew it! Oh, Spirits

Imrie mrt'a ka! Kas tih! Kohgrash, ka mrt tih: I fixed it! It's okay! Kohgrash, it will be okay

Rohsh, Kohgrash! Prosh jok, cho'k! Mor, 'blh'n ihk!: Hello, Kohgrash! Good morning, little one. Here, take this! 

Tash: yours

Neyk, ney norish. Retir Kohgrash: No, not food. Silly Kohgrash

Krih! 'Blh'n ihk: Please! Take this.

Tas retikul: You're ridiculous

Mrr srah ney ka fre'k!: my star is not ugly!

Prosh jok, cho'k: Good morning, little one

Ka ney gnn ta: It won't hurt you