Natives & Foreigners

[Lexicography]

> Lexicography slid between the reeds of the swamp, tongue flicking lazily to taste the environment; strange things were happening, and he was not worried. Just yesterday he had tasted something that was of man and puma and something foreign and exciting -- and mud, but everything was muddy that was foolish enough to go through that area of the swamp. The snake found it all very... invigorating. Like perhaps he would not spend all of his life hunting dumb crayfish and never speaking to another creature; perhaps others would come with this puma-man foreigner, others willing to relieve the boredom of one small snake. Or perhaps crayfish-men foreigners would come to the rivers for him to hunt -- that would be interesting. It was all the same to him.
> The snake was at the very edge of his territory, now; beyond this ditch, the earth began to dry and the trees became larger. Beyond, there were dangerous beasts and little water -- and thus no prey. To add to the danger, it was daylight; not his time to be awake. But he was restless with the memory of the puma-man, and it was his greatest wish to catch sight of the beast, or of any strange brethren it might have brought with it. He settled at the base of a half-rotted, water logged stump, staring out through the thin reeds at the soggy ground and forest beyond.
> His eyes occasionally rolled towards the sky, checking for any predator that might drop on him -- there was a small branch attached to the log that looked sturdy, but he wasn’t sure how large a branch one of his enemies would need. His tongue kept its lazy motion, taking in what it could; as of yet, there didn’t seem anything out of the ordinary.

[Creksaa]

The only interesting thing out here, at the edge of snake's kingdom, was a semi-familiar taste. Something like the crawfish and other creek-creatures, but drier and dustier. It carried the scent of forest along with it, dragging the cool taste of leaves and sandy dirt into the ditch as it crawled along.

Soon, the unexciting creature, something that smelled at least partially edible, scraped its way into view amongst the grass blades. Scrabbly claws pulled it along, while most of its body hid in a strange oversized shell.

It might have been related to the small crustaceans of his world, but it certainly wasn't dumb. At least, in the 'mute' sense of the word.

As soon as waving antennae caught wind of the reptile, long before its eyes or any other sensory organs managed to, claws were raised and a tiny screeching voice flew into the air.

"What! Where are you! Show yourself!...I know you're out there!!"

If he had to guess, the creature might have been female. Maybe.

"I can smell you!!"

- Meet Creksaa -

[Lexicography]

When his tongue first lapped up the scent of the crustacean, Lexicography didn’t react; rather than realizing those hints of strangeness were inherent to the creature, he thought that it had ventured out of its territory and picked up aromas from the forest. He dwelt upon this sensory glimpse into another world, but it did not occur to him to look for the animal until it cried out. The snake’s head twitched, dipped towards the ground as he searched out the source of the sound – he’d never heard a crustacean speak before. How fascinating. His tongue fluttered from between his lips, and it did not take long before he found the creature.

Prey, he thought when he saw the claws and carapace; but then his eye wandered to the strange growth on the crustacean’s back, and he lost his certainty about its edibility. That seemed a tad large for his gullet. Thus, when he slithered close to the creature and bumped his nose against its shell, he did so without a mind to consume it. He withdrew, looped his meager coils as a sort of impromptu fence around the crustacean – he did not know how fast it could move, and did not want it to escape. His tail twinged with the memory of a spirited crawdad that had once pinched him there; he tucked it behind one of his thicker coils, and then turned his attention to determining the species and origin of the curious little beast.

“I can smell you, too.” His voice was dry, smooth, laden down with curiosity. He flicked his tongue against one of the creature’s visible antennae, fascinated as much by the texture as the taste and smell – none of them quite right, despite what they shared with his prey. “My name is Lexicography. Who and what are you?”

[Creksaa]

The odd creature gave an indignant sort of half-outraged, half-frightened, sound when the snake touched her shell...and she struggled to turn around and pinch him good for it, but her oversized house was just too much to drag so quickly. By the time she had managed to face that direction, the lithe reptile had looped itself around her entire immediate world. It was a confounding thing, to be surrounded by a creature whose very shape was incomprehensible. It was on all sides of her! How could this be??

But surely, it must have a face. A head, of some sort. That seemed to be a somewhat common feature in all the other creatures she had run into so far, during her very strange life. So, she kept side-walking and turning, dragging her shell laboriously along. The snake spoke then, which helped her locate its head, finally turning to face it straight on.

"Now, look here--aaah!"

Her hostile scolding was cut off, as the thing licked her antennae! She shrieked and pulled into her shell, weaponous claws brandished, just daring him to try that again.

He licked her antennae! Seriously, who does that??
She could not have been more offended.

After a few moments of boiling in her inordinate amount of indignation, and realizing the fact that he didn't seem intent on doing it again, she slowly eased herself back out of her shell, and glared at him with her short stalkish eyes.

It took her a moment to review what he had asked while she was ducking in her shell; she just hadn't been listening very well through her anger.

"What?? My name is Creksaa, and I'm the owner of this shell, that's what!! So, if you think for one moment that you're going to take it from me, you're in for a world of hurt!!"

Her screeching was accompanied by threatening (and possibly rude) gestures of her largest claw.

[Lexicography]

Lexicography watched the crustacean swivel as a human might observe the revolution of an item it intended to buy: eyes alighting on each scratch in the animal’s shell, and intent upon its awkward movement. He thought that, given enough time and thought, he could break loose the (relatively) soft bits and consume it. Surely it would not outpace him while he figured out the puzzle. But at the moment, he did not feel terribly hungry, and it presented more interest alive than in his belly. For example, it reacted to the brush of his tongue in a most fascinating manner, withdrawing into its shell like a snail. It hadn't smelled like a snail.

Although it had some of a snail’s physiology, it did not appear to share the placid nature of those slimy tidbits, seeing as it waved its heavy claws at him and made funny noises in addition to hiding. Lexicography found himself entertained by this, and wondered how many times he could prompt this response from it. He flicked his tongue against his lips as he watched the creature re-emerge from its shell, awaiting the perfect moment to brush against its antennae. Before he could put act, however, it replied to his question, and its answer gave him enough to mull over that he forgot his plan to make it do its vocal snail act.

“Don’t worry, Creksaa,” he told it, his voice raised – if he judged by its shouting, and the fact that it asked ‘what’ at regular intervals, it must have been hard of hearing. “Your shell does not smell edible. I would take you before it.” He flicked his tongue against the creature, to confirm the inedibility of its abode. Besides being a bit large for his throat, it seemed somehow – off, an ineffable little scent he’d never encountered before and did not care to ingest. “Do you mean to say that you and your shell are separable items?”

The interest in his tone could not be mistaken, and it would not be hard to guess at the gluttonous intentions behind it. Lexicography really did not just want to eat; he liked the idea of a challenge coming with it, particularly if it was a test of his wits. After all, amphibians and fish and crayfish made for prey that required athleticism, but they rarely troubled his mind.

[Creksaa]

If the hermit crab could have squinted her eyes suspiciously, she would have. This bendy creature was beginning to really unnerve her. The fact that he raised his voice was kind of nice though...sometimes it was hard to decipher words from under the heavy overhang of her shell.

"Wha--...of course we aren't separate items! And I'm not edible, either!"

She waved both her claws this time, chittering in irritation. If he thought crawfish could give bad pinches, then just wait until he got a taste of these puppies! Her claws were Creksaa's greatest friend, aside from her oh-so-beloved shell. She still remembered proudly the chunk of flesh she'd removed from a woman's finger at the pet store, hanging on with a shocking amount of strength untill the human was forced to pull her digit loose with the price of a small but deep chunk of flesh.

"And," the crustacean remembered to add, "quit licking me!!"


((yeah, that person at the pet store was me. I ended up buying the offending hermie and naming him Nero, lol.))

[Lexicography]

As their encounter continued, it began to dawn on Lexicography that all of Creksaa’s hilarious shrieking and flailing indicated some form of aggression. He tilted his head and watched as she waved her claws in a display not unlike what crayfish sometimes engaged in during their terminal moments. He feared he had not been subtle enough about wanting to eat her, and furthermore that this would cut short their interaction – if she withdrew from the conversation, he would have no choice but to consume the crustacean. He couldn’t hang around and starve while her hurt feelings healed, after all, nor abandon her in the swamp.

He planned to alleviate her worry by telling her all of this, but then the crustacean told him to stop licking her. The snake reared back, mouth agape – if his lids were not fixed, his eyes, too, would have widened. His tongue, that offending appendage, slipped from between his lips as shock robbed him of fine motor control. Then his mouth snapped shut – tongue once more safely inside – and leaned forward the better to loom over Creksaa. He did not lick. He tasted and smelled, he surely flicked his tongue, but he did not lick like some murderous raccoon would her lips while she considered her next serpentine meal. He was not some foul mammal.

“You do me a great disservice,” he told her, and now the conventional hiss had come into his voice, low and upset and threatening. Then he made a noise suspiciously like a sniffle, although snakes surely did not have the equipment to weep, and for one to do so would be the height of egregious anthropomorphism. “I thought you liked me better than that.”

[Creksaa]

Creksaa was becoming increasingly alarmed. She was not used to this much attention, predatory, conversational, or otherwise.
She had to actually think now, which was a task that was more effort than it was worth, in most cases.

Quickly, quickly...process what all her situation entailed, and react accordingly.

It seemed, though this thought came with only the most tentative of certainty, that the slender creature was...offended? Was that what it was? Her first opinion was that, good, it should be offended! Threatening her and all that. And the whole licking business. But really, she had no idea what she had done or said that had caused such a reaction and, she supposed, it being offended would only mean more danger for her.

So...

"Uh...I didn't mean to offend." She awkwardly stated, reciting the phrase as she was fairly certain she'd heard the other pet store animals use it. As an afterthought, she lowered her claws a bit, though they were still open and ready, should she need them.

"But, uh..." she did not understand the reptiles bizarre expressions and sounds of emotion, being far too subtle for her to really understand. She was used to the blunt and ferociously obvious signals of her people.

She felt she needed to explain herself, for some reason, since this creature had obviously gotten some sort of wrong impression, if it thought that she liked it at all. But, there was really only way to explain herself, and it sounded...odd. Oh well, she had a feeling that staying silent was a riskier choice.

"Well...you're scaring me!" she shouted, flailing and gesturing helplessly with her claws.

[Lexicography]

Lexicography began to feel bad about his outburst soon after he’d accused the crustacean, as it occurred to him that she probably didn’t even have a tongue, and would not be cognizant of the subtleties of verbs pertaining to one. Furthermore, she sounded so uncomfortable when she apologized that the snake’s cold little heart squeezed in sympathy. O social awkwardness, that plight of all regularly solitary beings! He felt sure that they could have avoided this whole disagreement if they’d both been a bit more used to conversation. He returned to his original distance and bent his head in gracious acceptance of her apology.

That gracious tilt was abruptly replaced with a focused, wary stare when she said but, however. If she put the blame on him, surely it would be just, but he couldn’t see the need for extending this little misunderstanding. For a moment he lost the sense of her words, the erratic motion of her claws a trigger for instincts more deeply-rooted than mere curiosity; once the snake became aware their meaning, however, a smile curved his scaly lips. “Why, Creksaa,” he murmured, the vowels of her name trailing into a sigh. “Fear is such a petty emotion – surely there’s no reason to be afraid when I’ve got you trapped here, is there?”

Really, he could have been understanding, but to fear him in this situation – it would come to nothing, of course, because she couldn’t escape. He lolled over onto his own coils, glossy hide and pale underbelly bright in the sun. “We must take these things philosophically,” he opined, “and accept what gains we can – I could have eaten you already, for example, or chosen not to talk, and wouldn’t that be so much more fearful a situation than where we are?”

Entirely warmed to his subject, Lexicography opened his mouth to further extemporize on why the crustacean need not fear when his thought process came to an abrupt halt as an avian silhouette passed over them. He froze, mouth agape, pulse beating double-time in his throat as his eyes rolled in his skull. “Did you see that?” he hissed with the barest of movement. The swamp had more ducks and perching-birds than predatory types, but all the same he disliked the idea of being in the open with something winging overhead. He slithered from his place around the crustacean, back into the shade of his tree stump.

“We can continue our conversation over here, yes?” He raised his head and smiled at her – and then glanced nervously at the sky once more.