Scarletra followed the man into the other room, wondering who that other alien on that display was. They looked so different than her new companion. They looked like an odd combination of her and him. They were covered in fur but had a snout; they had adorable fluffy ears and were coated in a thick, healthy-looking coat.

　　 Hopefully, they will come here one day. She already had millions of questions for the man here. She could further satiate her curiosity if there was another alien here. She could ask them the same things she wanted to ask the man here.

　　"Is there somewhere I can take a bath?" Scarletra questioned, mimicking splashing water on her face.

　　 A nearby stream, a lake, anything at all. A puddle of relatively clean and unfrozen water would do at this point. Scarletra`s fur was coated in the scent of sex, sweat, food, and drinks. She felt oddly sticky because of the combination that clung to her fur and skin.

　　The scent was hardly an issue; she could barely notice it because the entire inside of his home smelled like he did, so that was drowned out by the ambient odors. But with how her fur felt, she could only imagine how disheveled she looked-and would rather not.

　　With the hot springs two days from here, she figured asking him about it would be a better option than making that long trek only to turn around and come back. He must have some way that he groomed and washed close to here; hopefully, he would allow her to use it.

　　Clearly, the man did not understand what she had attempted to communicate. The confusion was evident on his scrunched brow and how he confusedly copied and tried to pick apart the gestures she made. Scarletra did not want to frustrate him, but they could not speak the same language, so this was all they could do.

　　If only there was some way she could just instantly understand him. From what she had heard from the elders` stories, the GU basically wielded magic only ever mentioned in the epics of legends past. So she assumed he would have used what the GU representatives of the past had used.

　　According to the elders who were alive almost one hundred and fifty local years ago, the GU representatives from their childhood could use tools to speak and understand them in a matter of days. Maybe she just had to wait a little longer, and then he could do the same. She could not understand anything she was looking at; she saw no reason that could not be the same.

　　 He led her into his sprawling home`s storage rooms from the living room. The same place he had retrieved the food and those delicious drinks from. They passed innumerable rows of shelves filled with boxes and other trinkets.

　　 Scarletra`s eyes lit up as she traced the thousands of shimmering, colorful items. Each one fought for her attention. Whispering in her ear, beckoning for her to peek inside and see what mystery was within.

　　She fought off the call until she paused, spotting a box filled with thousands of small shimmering metal items. The temptation was a bit too much for her. She stopped and turned to the waist-level box.

　　She reached into the box and carefully picked a few of them up, pinching them between her thick fingers. Rolling it around between her thumb and finger was odd; they were sharp and had spiraling ridges running along them. A flat side with a cross indent was on the opposite side of the pointed end.

　　They were so small. Scarletra could never craft anything this detailed and precise, even if she used her claws and spent years trying. Any attempt to with the softest and most well-grown wood would crumble and snap.

　　How did the GU make so many precise objects?

　　Everything around the man`s house was like this. Built with precision and care and at such a quantity, she felt like it might as well be a dream—but this was very real.

　　 Scarletra thought back to her old village; it would take them decades to forge enough metal to build one of the rooms and furniture here. They would never be able to replicate anything close to anything here.

　　"What are these?" Scarletra asked, holding them out in cupped hands.

　　The man noticed that she had stopped when she spoke; turning back around, he walked over to see the curiosity she was fascinated by. He peeked into her cupped hands and lightly chuckled.

　　He picked one of them up, said something short in a cute, smooth tone of voice, and then repeated the same word several times, moving the item each time to emphasize it.

　　"Skrooo?" Scarletra tried to mimic.

　　He smiled and nodded, then said "skrooo" again before he placed the item back in the box and gestured for her to put it back. She did as he asked; it was his home, and he clearly valued keeping things organized. Each fascinating item in his storage was neatly in its rightful place and was labeled with little symbols delineating what they were.

　　While Scarletra had no idea what a skrooo was, at the bare minimum, she was learning at least a little about what he owned. Trying to speak his language was odd. She had not tried to mimic anything he spoke up to that point; attempting to speak the Galactic language was very different; she had to use her tongue to make noises she does not regularly have to when speaking Varint.

　　A small part of her wondered if they could learn the other`s language. That way, they would no longer have to awkwardly flail their arms to try and convey information.

　　Even if she wanted to do either, she had never learned anything besides Varint and had no idea how to teach anyone to speak. She would have to think about that idea for a while. Maybe she could start by teaching him some simple words, like how he tried to teach her to say Skroo.

　　He stopped next to a set of metal boxes that stood vertically against the wall. Opening them up, he started to dig through them, pulling out various garments. They looked similar to his blue full-body suit, the only difference being how large they were.

　　 He would read something inside the collar, then hold the suit in front of her, comparing it against her body.

　　Each time he pulled out another one and compared it to her, his focused eyes started to look more frustrated, and he began to grumble before tossing the diminutive garments into a growing pile on the floor.

　　 Why was he doing this? Is something wrong with her clothes? Scarletra looked herself over, seeing if she spotted something out of the ordinary. What she wore was about the same as those in her old tribe. Her clothes were a bit ragged and worn compared to theirs, but they were in no way indecent and covered what they needed, namely, the thinner areas of fur on her breasts and groin.

　　She could admit she needed to make a new set soon but did not want to kill more animals to craft another pair of tops and bottoms.

　　After several more attempts, he seemed to have one he wanted her to try on. Scarletra took the one piece of clothing he was offering. He started to demonstrate and guide her on how to undo the front and put it on.

　　Scarletra looked at the piece of clothing hesitantly; it was strange. The material was somewhat thick and heavy. It was made out of some kind of tightly woven fibers, not unlike the baskets she used in her cave. Is this thing made out of skin? Plants? She was not sure. She did not think you could make clothes out of plants. But with the marvels spread around the room, she could believe it was.

　　The other odd thing was how it smelled. Scarletra brought it to her nose to confirm what she initially thought. Taking a deep breath, she confirmed it; There was no smell at all. She pulled it from her nose and scowled. That was unsettling. Everything had an odor; no, everything should have a scent. Why did this thing not?

　　Noticing that she seemed unsure of the garment, he encouraged her with a few gentle words.

　　Why did he have to be so handsome? That gentle smile and words made her fold like a cub being scolded by the elders. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

　　Scarletra opened the front like she showed and quickly realized this would not work. Her feet could barely fit through the legs, but that did not stop her from trying. She drew it up along her legs, the fibrous martial tickling against her fur.

　　Her attempt paused as the material tightly squeezed around her thighs. It was way too tight.

　　Her putting this on was clearly important to him, so she tried to pull on the cloth harder, attempting to force it on, but the sound of the seam ripping echoed through the area. Scarletra looked up at him and frowned.

　　"I`m sorry, it won`t fit," Scarletra said as she slipped off the now-tattered jumpsuit.

　　The man sighed, picked up the rest of the clothes he had tossed into the pile, and stuffed them back into the box. He grumbled a bit and scratched his beard before pulling something up on that little screen he wore attached to his arm.

　　"Is something wrong with what I`m wearing?" Scarletra asked, pulling at her top a few times, lifting her breasts up and down.

　　He looked over and blushed, his face nearly as red as blood. He quickly averted his eyes, the scent of arousal wafting off him.

　　 Why is he so sensitive to that? Is he that obsessed with breasts? She found his reaction endearing; at least she knew she actually found her attractive, and last night was not just a drunk event. But she did not mean that to be sexual in any way; it was just a simple question. It`s not like she was flashing him. Even if she did, he had seen everything she had already.

　　Instead of running off like Scarletra expected, he pulled out a small roll of measuring tape and started to use it on her. He took his time and carefully measured several places across her body: gut, hips, thigh, legs, arms, breast, and shoulders. He took these measurements several times and jotted them down. Scarletra did her best to not laugh as his gentle touching made her nearly laugh from how much it tickled. But a few small giggles did slip out.

　　The fact that he was clearly trying to have something that could fit her only made her more concerned that something was wrong with her clothes. She made these herself; it was something she prided herself in. They weren`t as intricate and detailed as what he or the tribe wore, but nothing was wrong with them, and they were hers. It took her weeks to make them. From hunting the animals, treating the skins, making thread from tendons, and fitting them to herself.

　　"You don`t have to make me any clothes," Scarletra said, pinching at his jumpsuit.

　　 The man softly replied and brushed her hand off before he squeezed between her and the shelves, heading back to the main room.

　　He could at least try and answer her. That was a little rude. But since they could not genuinely speak, she could forgive it.

　　Scarletra hurriedly followed him, wondering what he would do next. Would he tinker with that broken thingamajig? Use some fantastic device to make her clothes in moments? Give her more food? Show her around his expansive home, which seemed to always have a new and exciting device of wonder and mystery.

　　 She did not care what it was. Everything here was interesting, new, and fun. She would see it all and understand it all eventually. How else could she ever become a part of the GU after all?

　　He went to the exit and donned his heavy warming gear. No matter Scarletra`s question or how much she attempted to interact, he gave her short, growled answers. Clearly, something serious was on his mind. He grabbed a long black weapon and messed with it briefly. He Inserted something that stuck out of the bottom and moved some parts that sounded like clashing blades.

　　 How he held, it reminded Scarletra of some of the bolt shots the tribe`s hunters would use for hunting large game, but his was much smaller and had no visible bolt it would shoot. Unless whatever that tube mounted to it was what the weapon fired.

　　As he stepped outside, he glanced back at her and watched her squeeze through the door frame.

　　Scarletra landed in the deep, fresh snow, relieved to return to the open air. The inside of his home was nice, clean, and far safer than her cave, but it was modicum warmer than her taste. It was not so balmy that she could not stand it; she would prefer it to be slightly colder, a few degrees at most.

　　The man pulled out one of his brown tubes and put it between his lips, lighting the end on fire. So, those things were not a type of incense. She would not have guessed they were a plant you were meant to smoke, having only seen other Varintol use pipes carved out of wood for that.

　　Scarletra never had much of a taste for it. Many of the warriors of her old tribe smoked, and she tried it a few times but did not like how it made her throat burn. The slight whisps and smells were pleasant to her nose, but actually, smoking was a whole other issue.

　　"So what are we going to do?" Scarletra asked, brushing snow off her fur.

　　The man took a massive drag on his tube and leaned against one of the walls. He did not answer her this time. He looked off into the woods. Something was clearly on his mind. Not being able to pluck at his thoughts or speak his language annoyed Scarletra more each time he made no effort to communicate effectively.

　　She plopped in the snow between him and the woods, tilting her head curiously, watching him, trying to figure out his thoughts. They sat there while he gradually smoked the rest of the little brown tube. He continued to mess with the screen on his arm while she kept her ears flickering around, listening for anything approaching; luckily, there was nothing. The entire time, that bit of a scowl was across his face.

　　That upset look was confusing and slightly perturbing. Scarletra couldn`t help but feel somewhat worried; had she upset him? Did she eat too much of his food? Did something the other alien said upset him? Or was he just this oddly expressive when lost in thought?

　　 The rest of the time outside was almost precisely the same. He was reticent and focused while puttering outside, checking gauges, opening and closing doors, and watching the woods; she was tired to his hip, asking questions, warmly prodding at him when he grumbled, and helping him wherever she would not cause damage.

　　Upon returning inside, he settled down at a table with the remnants of the gift he attempted to give her yesterday. She settled in and watched curiously as he tinkered with the fragmented necklace.

　　 Scarletra tried to connect with the man while watching, earnestly attempting to help. While she could not aid him much, she did hand him tools and supplies he wanted from toolboxes and shelves. The fact her massive build was keeping him from getting up and retrieving them was beside the point. She was still helping him.

　　 Thankfully, he seemed to not hate that she failed each time he asked for something new. If anything, he only smiled slightly when she would pull out half a dozen different doodads. What else could she do? He would pick the item he wanted, and then she would put what he did not back where she found it, being extremely careful to return it exactly as it was.

　　 This went on until the sun had set, and whatever that gift was genuinely was starting to return to shape. It went from being in dozens of small pieces to only a few much larger parts.

　　 Scarletra yawned and rubbed her growling stomach. How in all the great mother`s name can he just sit here fiddling with the necklace parts for so long? He hardly even lifted his eyes from the tools and trinket for the last hour. He just continued to melt some metal wire and affix different parts to the larger green bits. How does that have anything to do with fixing the necklace? Couldn`t he just give her something else? Or nothing at all? She did not care much about receiving anything beyond what she already had; being allowed to be here was gift enough. The fact he tried to give her something was nice enough. Too bad she broke it; No one had given her a gift since she was a cub.

　　 The amount of focus he had was beyond anything Scarletra had ever seen. He had not slowed down at all. Each motion was calculated, focused, and measured. Even when Scarletra carved sculptures, she needed to take a break every few hours. Her mouth would be dry, her legs would go numb, and her eyes would wander to anything but her current sculpture. Simultaneously, her mind would wander to her next meal—just like now.

　　Scarletra left him to his work and went toward the storage room to get them some food. She gathered a pair of his brown food packs for herself and one for him. While on her way back, she spotted a box of those packages of alcohol he served yesterday. They both had a lovely time laughing and drinking. She grabbed one of the smaller boxes and brought it along, hoping to cheer him up or have him relax a little. He seemed far too tense right now.

　　Scarletra heated the meals with water just as she showed her to do. She took a short break and stretched while she waited for them to settle? Cook? She was still unsure why the meals had to sit for a few minutes, but he had done that. So why would she not do the same?

　　Scarletra waited patiently for the food to be ready, but it was unbearable. She had not eaten since breakfast. Smelling the rich fat and delicious spices was causing her mouth to water. Unable to wait any longer, Scarletra opened some of the bread packages in her meals; she engulfed the sweet, soft, and delectable morsels in one bite. She also opened one of the metal tubes and downed the refreshing alcohol. The cold, bubbly golden liquid helped ease the smallest amount of her concern for her new companion.

　　Once Scarlett had allowed the food to warm up, she scooped it all into her arms, quickly returned to the workshop, and plopped down on the ground next to him, not that he noticed she returned.

　　"Hey, I brought you some dinner and something to drink," Scarletra smiled brightly while she set the food pouches next to his work on the table.

　　He paused and looked over at the food, then at her holding out one of the drinks. He smiled brightly and nodded before taking the drink and saying a few calm words to her. Oddly enough, though, he did not eat.

　　As Scarletra started to savor her meal, he moved the pouches off to the side, setting them atop one of the many boxes he had been pulling tools and other parts from before he returned to his work.

　　"Are you not hungry? You have been working all day," Scarletra questioned while whipping a dribble of stew off her chin.

　　He replied shortly but never shifted focus.

　　Scarletra sighed before continuing to eat and drink the alcohol, reserving herself to the fact he clearly was not interested in lounging about today.