Arctic Light

Taking refuge in her hideout, she observes the boy's return.

Unlike the others, she doesn't await him with apprehension. She doesn't go without meals, picking up scraps thrown away by the careless or the dead rodents she encounters in the building’s corners.

She doesn't need the boy's help. She just... watches.

The food he brings is not like what she finds. She's seen fresh products sometimes, but there’s always people in those places. People never want her around. They act unkindly.

The people down there want the boy around. She detects a selfish interest in them, but not just that. Some greet him happily, making strange sounds with their mouths.

The boy never makes any. He struggles, like her. But she thinks he understands them, what they need. And he gives it to them. It's a habit. He did it before she came; if nothing stops him, he'll do it after she's gone.

But she'll watch. Just one more time.

A week later, the boy climbs the building and stands before her. It alarms her. How long did he know she was there?

He motions towards the window. Does he want her to... jump?

Curious, and maybe a little reckless –was she wrong about him? Was he sent to take her back? What else would anyone want with her?–, she does just that. 

She sees him leap after her, flying, graceful. He repeats that motion. He means her to follow.

Dusk arrives, and they advance from shadow to shadow. Silent and surreptitiously, they enter one of those buildings the fresh food must come front. But this is... the back. There's no people here.

There are boxes, dozens of them, warm to the touch. Their smell makes her mouth water and her stomach roar. 

He grabs a strange tool, with wheels, similar to smaller ones she's seen him use, and starts putting boxes inside it. 

Someone interrupts. An older man, tall, muscular. As he opens his mouth –will he yell? She hates when people yell–, the boy leaps behind him, putting him in a chokehold.

She almost jumps in to stop him, before seeing the man just… falls sleep. They boy stopped him, subdued him, but didn't harm him. 

The two of them finish filling the carrier. He graces her with a smile, his eyes fully focused for the first time; something cheerful, and charming, and a little mischievous. Hesitant, she returns it.

In the alley, people greet them. There's screaming, but it's filled with palpable joy. An old man approaches her, repeating that sound (zankiu) she's heard over and over directed towards the boy. Her eyes dampen.

When she opens her box, she finds a strange animal. Like a large insect, but bright red? With hard skin. Does she bite it?

She sees the boy rip off the head of one of his with ease, slurping its insides. 

She follows suit, choking on an appreciative moan. 

It's the most delicious thing she's ever tasted. And she’s eating it with company.