Private Finished What Do You Mean I Can't Sleep Here?

Aimouryllice a'Phoche stared up at the big blue structure with a spear in her hand. It was a house, the story books told her, but the houses in the children's picture books didn't quite look like this--at least, they weren't elevated above the sand by big tree-trunk-like supports like this one was. Tree-trunk-like supports that Aimouryllice had been stashing her belongings around the past few days, namely all of her many, many shells.

And, for those past few days, she had been observing this 'house'. She didn't really know what purpose houses served, other than perhaps giving humans shelter from the elements. She didn't really know why they didn't just take shelter in the ocean, either. The rain and snow never bothered her there.

Aimouryllice snapped out of her thoughts of storms and strange weather phenomenons; night-time was already upon her!

After a few days of observation, she concluded that Samson Hawk frequented this house for several hours at a time, especially when the moon was bright and the sun was gone. Well, she quite liked Samson Hawk, so she thought this was the perfect time and place to catch him and say hello!

Now, how to get in? She clicked her razor sharp teeth and strained her eyes to examine the outside of the house. . .

@Lazzy

Aimouryllice clicked her teeth when she spotted a hole in the side of the house. What dumb humans, leaving holes in their shelters--if they were going to leave it all exposed like that, they might as well have no shelter at all!

With her spear in hand she advanced swiftly upon the house. Her movements were fluid and quiet, black eyes trained on her open window goal. She and Samson were going to have such a great conversation about, like, hunting and shell-carving and her knowledge-keeping duties, yes they were. Samson was going to be so human happy--or was it sad? Surprised? Shy....

Aimouryllice intensely disliked human emotions.

....Well, more like she disliked trying to understand human emotions. It was so difficult and essentially impossible, especially with all these different words that these humans had to describe such trivialities.

She stabbed her spear into the ground and vaulted up onto the side of the house that she wasn't able to reach from the sand. She navigated the outside of the house with great agility until she reached her target. With one hand gripping a window frame, she tugged her spear up and over her head and slid it into the house. After nudging the window open a little more, she pulled herself up and in after her weapon.

Aimouryllice landed quietly on her feet and retrieved her spear, her eyes surveying the strange coral cave that these humans called a 'house'. She...had never really been in one before. School, community center...There was a human bed (this one even larger than hers in her dorm, which she never thought possible) and upon it a strange shape.

. . .A sleeping person!!

The Vox Somni girl felt sorry for this person who had to sleep all alone. Maybe they were an outcast? In her culture, people usually slept in what could simply be described as a 'sleep pile' in English. Several bodies huddled together, sharing warmth and good magic and protecting each other from danger. A sign of companionship with one's people. To sleep alone was a shame.

Aimouryllice took it upon herself to fix this problem! To ignore a lonely sleeper was a shame in and of itself. So, she set her spear on the ground, clambered into the bed, slipped between the human covers, and settled herself directly against the person's side. She briefly wondered if it was Samson Hawk, and she concluded that if it was, she was all the more happy to help him.

She snuggled a little closer to Samson and closed her eyes, ready for a totally peaceful night of sleep.

@Lazzy

Why couldn't people in sleep piles just stay asleep?

Aimouryllice lurched the moment Samson leapt from the bed. Was there an intruder? This was exactly the purpose of a sleep pile--defense! She slid out of the bed lightning quick and snatched up her spear. Holding it in both hands, she stood in a.....stance of fishes on the side opposite of Samson.

For several moments she was silent. Standing there. Ready to stab. But there was nothing. Was this one of those 'nightmares' humans apparently had? Samson sure was a rowdy sleeper and she could see now why no one invited him to their sleep piles.

"Why do you jump?" said Aimouryllice, hoping that she'd gotten the grammar right on that one. She had been studying very thoroughly the past few days. Her eyes strained in the dark, trying to see him a little more clearly. "I see no evil. It is quiet."

"Samson Hawk, are you OK?"

@Lazzy

Purple used to be one of Aimouryllice's most well-liked colors.

Used to be.

Now, it was all she could see.

The silence was what got to her first. In the dark she waited for his response, and even though she wanted to shrink back at the sudden presence of light, she stood and stared and waited still. Not even his state of undress could distract her. However, she never got her answer.

Instead, Aimouryllice was overwhelmed by what felt like a world-shaking roar. Her fingers gripped her spear tighter, digging her claws into her now-bleeding palms. Were she not already so pure white, she would have paled considerably. The fins on the side of her face flared, and then drooped. The skin under her eyes was purple, and the only color she could see right now was the same.

Samson was...upset? With her?

The thought made her teeth chitter sadly. She thought Samson was her friend. . .How was she supposed to react to him turning hostile?

Aimouryllice backed up a couple steps, pulling her spear closer to her. Her voice was small, and she hated it.

"I...wanted to see you..."

Aimouryllice watched him very carefully, observing as he almost waved and then sat down and started petting the bed for some reason, but the actions escaped her, for she was looking for more hostile intent.

Were she any less afraid, she might have been offended at his use of horridly simple English sentences, many not even correct in grammar. Her stomach felt sickeningly empty.

"I wanted to see you," she repeated, this time a little louder and more confidently. Aimouryllice hated the fear she felt, hated it with all she had. She couldn't feel fear, not when she was--

Samson disappeared from the room. She was alone again. He was that upset with her that he just up and left? She took another step back towards the open window, though she kept her back to it. Her black eyes caught the sight of purple on her spear, and she began to panic.

Blood was not going to be good for her hunt. What was she to do?

When Samson returned, he would see that the Vox Somni had her mouth attached to the spear handle, attempting to lick up the blood before it stained. His return surprised her, and her teeth chattered against the wood.

He had asked her to give up her spear. Her only weapon of defense large enough if his anger remained. However...Aimouryllice trusted him enough to rest the spear-tip against the wall and let go.

"Samson Hawk." She gazed up at him with those big black eyes and waited.

@Lazzy