II

Lyra

The first thing Lyra picked up was the scent of cooking meat. It was succulent, almost a little sweet, and it made her stomach rumble in want and her mouth water voraciously. The next thing she noticed, as she rolled over on – was that a bed? Cot, perhaps? – was the sound of voices speaking. She was able to pick up that there were two, distinctly male.

Though she knew she should have been, she wasn’t afraid. Concerned, perhaps, but not afraid. She wasn’t dead and aside from the persistent throbbing pain in her ankle (that became a bit more prominent the more conscious that she became) she didn’t feel like she was harmed in any other way – and to be fair, the ankle was her fault. She remembered the tumble, the black out. Lyra tried to wiggle her foot a bit, and stopped as soon as the stab of pain shot through the joint.

Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea…

She sighed, though, and sat up after blinking a few times. Her surroundings where… Well.

It was an intricate blend of technology and nature. The room she was in looked to be made of wood – but the grooves within the bark glowed in green light, looking like circuitry set into the bark. There was a window to one side, and Lyra could tell it was made out of the same sort of holographic program that the walls surrounding the Compound where; wind whipped through the trees on the other side, but none of that wind made its way inside.

Other than that, the room itself was bare, aside from the cot that she was on. The door to the far side of the room was nothing more than an entryway – no actual door to speak of. It was through there that she heard the voices. It sounded as though they were speaking a different language, and it was at that she weighed her options.

She could try to sneak out. That would have been the first choice – had her ankle not been shot to shit as it was. She tested trying to put weight on it as she listened to the men talking in the other room, and hissed as the pain shot worse through her foot.

Okay. So, she wasn’t going to do that.

She could easily just wait around until they came in to check on her, if that was something that they did. Or… she could bring them to her.

“Hello?” she called out to them. “Anyone out there?”

The talking stopped. She heard a low exchange of voices, before footfalls came. In the doorway of her room appeared two striking men, and she openly gaped for a moment.

They both had to be about six feet tall, if not taller. They’d certainly dwarf her figure if they stood next to her (well, if she could stand) and had long, thick onyx-toned hair. Their skin, which was inked in intricate black tattoos, curling and winding over their supple flesh, was near the same shade of deep russet as her own – but it was their eyes that made them more other-worldly than anything. They were bright green, and set into feline-angled faces made them look distinctly panther-like in nature, and all the more alluring.

An embarrassed flushed rose up on her skin, deepening her complexion as she realized she was staring so blatantly. The man on the left tilted his head at her, a thick brow raised in curiosity. He said something lowly to his companion, who nodded, and they both stepped forward. Instinctually, she sat up a little straighter, but neither made a move to hurt her in anyway – the man on the left reached out, and brushed some of her thick, auburn hair out of her face.

“How do you feel?”

The shock was evident on her face as she heard the words come from him.

“You speak Galactic Common?” she asked him, surprised. His brows furrowed, before he chuckled.

“Most people do. You – are from the Outsiders’ colony, yes?”

She assumed that meant the Compound, and she nodded.

“Yes, I am.”

“Did they abandon you?”

“Abandon me? Oh… no. No I came out here exploring and I didn’t pay attention to where I was going and fell. I think I tripped down a hill.”

He nodded.

“We found you while hunting at the edge of the village. You were surrounded by a pack of Starkee… They would have eaten you.”

Lyra had no idea what Starkee were, but she was under the impression that she should be thankful that she hadn’t been eaten by them, whatever they were. She nodded.

“I suppose I owe you a thanks.”

“It is unnecessary.” This time, the other man spoke, drawing her attention. “It is the way of the Ammarok.”

Curiosity continued to burn at her. Starkee… Ammarok… Words that she was unfamiliar with in all ways, and wanted to know more of. Lyra had honestly not expected to come across people when she ventured out – she had thought that there weren’t any so close to the Compound – but here she was. She owed them her life.

There was one thing that pressed at her mind, though. Considering she hadn’t expected to find anyone, let alone be injured to the point of being unable to walk properly, she wondered how she was supposed to get back. The Compound had a strict rule against interacting with any of the native populations; it was part of the reason that the walls projected the images that they did. Out of sight, out of mind. People couldn’t be curious over what they couldn’t see to exist.

She wondered if these people, these two Ammarok men and their village, were of the same mind. She shifted, biting her lip as she thought about it, not wanting to appear rude in asking, but also feeling the need to know.

“I hate to ask,” she said. “But when will I be able to go back? To my home, I mean. I had only intended exploring, after all…”

The two men exchanged a look.

“Go back?” the one to the left said. “Why would you go back?”

“You’re staying here, aren’t you?” the other asked.

He sounded confused that she would even suggest such a thing, which only made her furrow her brows, her own confusion showing in abundance. She bit her lip.

“No?” she questioned, slowly, thinking perhaps there was a misunderstanding of sorts.

“Yes,” the one to the right corrected. “We found you. You’re ours.”

Suddenly, the two men weren’t so alluring.