Chewing the meal bar, she swallowed hard. It was so dry it was always difficult to get down and she didn’t have any water to help her.
Turning to look at the door, she gnawed on the bar some more.
She hadn’t heard Riv move about but she was sure he wasn’t still asleep.
Something told her he wasn’t the type that slept in.
She’d go out there to try to get some water really quickly but two things stopped her.
First, she didn’t want to run into Riv. She had no idea what to say to him and he made her nervous for more than one reason—his obvious dislike of her was the first reason. The other reason was one she didn’t really want to contemplate.
Second, whatever had scared her out of her wits last night was still out there somewhere.
There was no way that loud booming from the night before hadn’t been coming from some huge animal and she’d rather not meet it, even though it’d sounded like it really wanted to meet her.
Chewing, she kept the food in her mouth for much longer than she usually would have, just to soften it some more so it was easier to swallow, and turned to look through the window once more.
As she watched the cow-hippos move, she realized something.
The Sanctuary didn’t smell like a farm.
With the cow-hippos alone she’d have expected the entire place to smell like fresh manure, but it didn’t.
As a matter of fact, there was no smell at all.
She was mulling over this without much interest when movement by the side of one building caught her eye.
Riv came into view, a large sack that looked quite heavy flung over one shoulder.
He walked over to the cow-hippos and opened their pen before moving inside and setting the sack down.
Flipping something from his trousers, he cut the sack open and the animals all lifted their heads at the same time.
In a mini stampede, they all headed to the sack, fighting each other to get mouthfuls of whatever was inside.
Greedy bastards. A smile tugged at her lips before her gaze drifted back to Riv.
He was moving to a corner of the cage to one of the animals that hadn’t joined the stampede and she had to stand on tiptoes to get a better view of what he was doing.
She watched as he knelt and placed a hand on the cow-hippo’s side in a touch that was so surprisingly gentle, her eyebrows shot up toward her hairline.
The way he behaved gruffly, he didn’t give the impression he had any compassion within him but obviously, looks were deceiving.
He was frowning, she could see even from where she was, as he touched the animal’s leg.
As he lifted the limb gently, the animal tried to kick him with the other leg but he didn’t react. His entire focus was on the leg he was holding.
It looked like it was injured, because he set the limb down lightly and stood with his hands bracing his hips as he frowned down at the animal.
He was wearing a shirt today and with that realization came a little thread of disappointment followed by her nictating as she wondered who sewed that thread there.
It wasn’t till she focused again that she realized her host was no longer frowning down at the animal. Now, he was frowning in her direction.
Lauren’s eyes widened as their gazes locked.
Shit.
She ducked.
And as she ducked out of view, crouching below the window, she wondered what the hell was wrong with her.
Why was she hiding?
But even as she asked herself this, she didn’t dare stand and look out the window again.
Doing so felt like she was doing something wrong. As if she was spying on him or something.
It took a few long moments for her to berate herself enough to lift her head and look out the window once more. But when her gaze moved back to the spot he’d been standing, she realized he was no longer there.
Letting out a breath, Lauren frowned at herself shortly after.
She’d dealt with a disagreeable alien before—the zookeeper, specifically. So why did this one make her so nervous?
He didn’t mind it, but it puzzled him a bit.
He’d expected the female to leave the room, but she hadn’t.
Granted, he’d spent almost all day tending to the sick ooga, which had somehow gotten its leg broken, so he hadn’t been inside the dwelling.
He only knew she hadn’t exited because he’d seen her watching him from the window.
Every time he went to check on the ooga and the cast he’d put on the animal’s leg, she’d been watching him from the window.
Usually, that sort of thing would piss him off and annoy him to no end, but somehow it didn’t this time.
Instead, he was curious.
Curious as to why she’d spent the entire time in the room.
When he entered the dwelling after spending all day outside, he was sure she hadn’t left the room.
Her scent was faint, which meant she hadn’t been walking about.
Not even for food, and he was sure she was hungry.
Her body was small and frail. From his experience, such types of creatures needed sustenance regularly.
She wasn’t of the type bred for resilience.
Setting down his gloves on the table, he stretched his arms, reveling in the ache of his muscles.
That ache felt good.
Nothing felt better than exhausting himself so much that he knew he’d fall asleep when he went to his sleeping cushion. It was one of the reasons he worked so hard every day. It was almost a guarantee that he’d fall asleep. His eyes would close and his brain would shut down when he went to bed.
Beside him, Grot settled down on the floor.
The tevsi was tired too, it seemed. He’d been in the fields chasing the robots and hunting small game, no doubt.
Rubbing a hand over his jaw, Riv cast a glance down the corridor toward the room he knew the female was in.
If Sohut was here,
