In Search of Home

Chapter 72

"Good morning, my little Kohgrash." 

"Stop talking."

"You are so cute and grumpy in the morning, aren't you, Kohgrash? Aren't you?"

"Stop."

"Aww, look at your little nose all scrunched up - ouch! Kohgrash! That was not very nice." 

"Your face isn't nice. Put your hands in front of my face and get bit, that's how it works." 

"That is not how it works." 

There was silence for a long moment, broken only by Viktor's shuffling as he snuggled deeper into his blankets and bed. Vok'Rul poked at his sides a couple of times before Viktor let out an angry, annoyed noise of protest, shaking his hand off. He was tired, damn it! Let him sleep!

Vok'Rul sighed, long and annoying. Viktor squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he had taken out the translator the night before. He had fallen asleep somewhere on the floor in the living room before making it to the bedroom. Vok'Rul must have also been pretty exhausted not to remember taking it out for him. The headache he had because of it was thick and slow and filled him with regret. 

"Head hurts," he complained after it became clear Vok'Rul was not going to leave him alone. 

"What?" Vok'Rul's voice immediately became concerned and a light hand settled on the top of his head, warm and heavy. "Why? Did you eat something bad? Did you hit it against something? Are you sick? Spirits, hold on, Kohgrash, I'm going to call the veterinarian." 

"No," Viktor groaned. "Just give me some of that smoking medicine, and I'll be fine." 

"It is not really made for mammals," Vok'Rul said reluctantly. "The only reason I gave it to you the last time was that it was the middle of the night, and you were in great pain." 

"I am in great pain now!" Viktor yelled, which immediately made his headache worse. He gave a little groan before saying in a quieter voice, "Just... Can you get me some water? Please?" 

Vok'Rul departed and returned a little later with a small glass of water - which surprised him; he had thought he would just go into the other room to get his dish - and a sliced starfruit. Which was really thoughtful of him.

"Thanks," he said. It came out grumpier than he had intended. He gave the alien a small smile to soften it. He wasn't sure if it worked.

"Do you need anything else?" the alien asked in a whisper. "It is not the wounds you received by that - that traitor that is causing you this pain, is it?"

Viktor had practically forgotten about that, even though Vok'Rul was still messing about with those papers he had managed to take off the alien. "No," he sighed. "I just have a headache from the translator. I'm gonna take it out for a while."

"Alright, little one," Vok'Rul said, pushing back his hair soothingly. His tone was still worried. "Just rest for a while." Viktor really needed to get up and wash his face, though. He was getting itchy from the paint yesterday. But he'd just lay here for a little while. 

After taking out the buzzing translator and watching Vok'Rul leave the room with it as quietly as a 12-foot-tall alien could, Viktor buried his face deeper in his blankets. He really should've taken the translator out earlier. Blacksmith had told them that constant use of the thing probably wasn't for the best, and now Viktor had to agree with her, much to his displeasure. It was hard, though, taking it out and knowing that he'd be able to understand what everyone was talking about if he had it on, instead.