Andar was awake before the sun, as was Maslar. The expected knock came on the tree’s door and he opened it, letting his friend slip inside. They spent a morning filled with anxious silence and tense waiting.
“It is finally time,” Andar said, glancing up from the table where he had been working, preparing food for their evening meal.
Maslar, his writings and papers spilling over the desk-like piece of furniture, glanced up. His pen stilled. Maslar was a Teller, an important member of their species who wrote down their history, legend and myth. He had shown promise at a young age, when his vivid dreams of the future, the past and the present had defined him and laid out his future.
Andar wished he had been so lucky. He had yet to decide on a profession. He showed promise of being a Nurturer, one who grows trees and plants, in part to replenish food source and living space for the species.
“Yes. I agree.” Maslar looked out the hole in the tree, a natural window. “The position of the sun is low. We can go for our female now.” He couldn’t quite contain his smile and his eyes sparkled with the promise of new hope.
“I will put away our food. Straighten your desk if you can. The rest of the house is in order. Everything is ready.”
“It’s been ready for days. I wonder if this human woman knows how lucky she is to have two doting males who have been friends their entire lives. Just promise me one thing, Maslar: You cannot be jealous of the young should it be of me.”
“And you cannot make any snide jokes should it be of me.”
Maslar never lost his wide grin. “Of course not, my friend. It’s as you said, you always were the better looking of the two of us.”
“And you,” Andar said, clapping a hand on Maslar’s shoulder, “Have always been wise and dedicated. Whoever creates the young, it is sure to be an incredible being with a promising future.”
Maslar quickly tidied his desk while Andar put away their food. The two males left Andar’s tree dwelling together, walking briskly over the field that led to the cave where the human women were prepared to be claimed by their males.
The expanse of open land, rich with plants, flowers, herbs and wildlife was eerily similar to what was on Earth, yet so different. Other males joined them and passed them. They all wore the same brown breaches made from the fibers of the strong Cavvassa plant. The material was incredibly soft and durable. The Klaskians cared far more about functionality and living in harmony with their planet than they did about fashion or vanity.
Twenty-eight males strode through the field, reaching the cave and the creek that flowed by it. They lined up shoulder to shoulder, and stood in breathless anticipation, waiting for their females. The silence swirled around them, thick and palpable.
Andar’s breath caught in his throat when he saw the first human woman emerge. Dressed in the same woven fabric as the men, her tunic stretched over her shoulders and breasts, wrapped tightly around her narrow waist and flared out at her hips, ending just above her knees.
More human women stepped from the cave’s entrance. They entered daylight and blinked after having spent the past few hours underground. They were all dressed the same, though their hair and eye color varied. They were so unlike Klaskian females that Andar found himself studying the different shades and hues with intrigue. Klaskian eyes were always purple, their skin always blue and their hair always black. He marveled at the beauty and uniqueness of each female.
Finally, when all the women were lined up the Klaskian guard stepped forward. He had a list in his hand and he began to call out names.
Andar tensed and felt Maslar freeze beside him. He waited for their names to be called. Males rushed forward, eagerly claiming their human women and leading them away to their tree homes or underground dwellings, wherever they had chosen to abide.
Stomach clenched painfully, his chest compressing to the point where it was impossible to draw breath, Andar waited.
Finally, he heard his name. “Andar and Maslar. We present your human woman, the beautiful Janelle Speirs.”
Andar’s eyes searched the few remaining women for the one who would be his. His eyes widened when she stepped forward. She was beyond beautiful, the most spectacular woman he had ever seen. He had picked her out right from the beginning, been drawn to her since the minute she stepped from the cave’s entrance.
Janelle took a few, halting steps forward. She waded through the shallow creek, as she had seen the other women before her do, then stood on the bank, beads of water sluicing off her shapely legs. The wind caught her hair and tendrils sprang free from the braids to soar on the breeze and tangle about her face. Her lips were lush and red. Her blue eyes were heavily lashed and her blonde hair was the color of slassa flowers. Her body was spectacularly built, slender yet curvy where her hips met her waist. Her breasts were well-rounded and full.
Andar was finally able to tear his eyes from her body long enough to look into her face. He held out his hand and she reached out hesitantly, and placed her much smaller, cooler fingers into his.
“Welcome home,” Andar whispered, his voice soft as it had been stolen from his throat like the air had been robbed of his lungs. “My name is Andar and this is my friend Maslar.”
Maslar was beside them in the next instant and he, too, extended his large, ink-stained hand. Janelle shyly placed her other hand in his. “Yes, Janelle. Welcome home,” he echoed.
Janelle blinked, those long, blonde lashes hitting her cheek just for a second before rising up to frame her huge blue eyes again. Her full red lips finally turned up in the hint of a smile. “Home,” she whispered, as though she were trying the word on her tongue. “Home is a beautiful word.”