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Jan 24, 2021 7:14 PM
James is left for dead on a deserted island right before the Trojan War
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“I don’t know. It wasn’t among the things he said to me and my sisters, when he found us. We’d eat whatever we caught or found when we found it if we were hungry, and give it to another if we weren’t.”

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"We can eat raw meat but it does not tend to taste very nice and makes us feel more full than we really are and then we get hungry again sooner. There are also some diseases that get burnt by the fire."

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“Hm.” She tilts her head. “Then may I try some?”

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"Of course. I'll be done in a few minutes."

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“Okay. Thank you. ... why did you say ‘of course’? What made it so obvious?”

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"...well, if by 'try some' you meant you want to have half then we would need more food but I would think you did not mean that? And it is not very bad to lose a little bit of food, especially given that you gave it to me and I am not currently starving."

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“I didn’t mean half of it, no. And... yes, I did catch them, but I have a much easier time catching fish than you would, and wouldn’t have trouble catching more, and you mentioned you had trouble shooting pigeons. I wouldn’t be insulted if you were protective of the little that you have.”

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"Not that little. And I will have to figure out how to catch pigeons in pain anyway, since that's going to be the rest of my life, so." Shrug.

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“A fair point.”

She resumes attempting to weave a basket, still watching him tend to the fire and cook fish.

While she’s well out of reach of him, even if he were to lunge at her, the firelight is enough to pick out some detail. From the waist up, she looks like a young (and rather beautiful, and also completely naked) woman, if a little unnaturally slender. Not the slender of malnutrition, the hints of muscles in her limbs attest that she hasn’t been starved, just of someone that is a bit smaller than human women tend to come in. From the waist down, though, she’s something else entirely. A long fish tail replaces what would be her legs, mottled between shades of pale cream, brown, and a red-orange that matches her hair. She has many spine-like fins, arranged almost like the folds of a long chiton, but from the way they occasionally move without any sort of wind or rustle, they’re definitely another sort of limb, not just mere decoration.

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Kinda hot.

...scratch that, very hot. He gets yet another quite involuntary erection from whatever he's thinking, and smiles to himself but reminds himself that now is not the time. By the time he has some of the fish done he mostly does not have much leftover evidence of any excitement. He grabs a couple of pieces with a stick he's been using as a fork, then walks over to where she is to offer her it.

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She straightens and tenses a little when he stands and begins making his way towards her, looking at him warily.

“... throw it?” she requests, after an uncomfortable pause.

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"- sure," he says, after he's stopped walking. "It is a little bit too hot still, though." He brings the meat closer to his lips and blows on it to get it cooler.

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“This seems very impractical,” she observes, dryly. “The fire building, then the cooking, then the waiting for it to cool, and then at last the eating. I’d have caught several fish by now, if I were hunting.” But her lips twitch, and she smiles a little through her clear anxiety, and adds, “But thank you.”

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"I think the overall time taken is still less, if I would have had to eat ten times as much." Once it is cool enough, he throws her the piece of fish underhand. This may not be an arrow from a bow but he still has exceptional aim.

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She watches its trajectory with a predator’s gaze, and then snaps forward and catches it out of the air with her teeth. And then swallows it whole, looking thoughtful.

“... interesting,” is her judgement.

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.................

He walks back to the fire and when he sits down he once again has a raging boner. He does not pay attention to it and resumes his cooking.

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Eutelia doesn’t immediately flee this time, but she’s back to being tense and watching his every move. It’s clear she’s ready to flee, if his attention turns a bit too much towards her.

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Either he doesn't notice (maybe it's too dark?) or doesn't react to this, but regardless he merely continues to prepare and eat his food and not give his penis any more attention.

"We also usually add spices or salt to food to add some flavour," he says as if nothing's the matter, "so this is only really half as good as it gets."

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“Hm. I see.”

Yep, still watching him warily and not relaxing, but still not fleeing! This is progress, right?

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Who knows! Maybe he hasn't even noticed.

"So... half fish, huh? Can you breathe underwater?"

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“No. I hold my breath.”

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"So you have to come up to the surface whenever you need to breathe?"

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"Correct. More like a dolphin, than a fish, though—yes, you guessed correctly, my mother was a fish."

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"She must have been a very pretty fish," he replies instantaneously and unselfconsciously. "How long can you hold your breath for?"

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She doesn't seem to know how to respond to that first part, looking a little confused. Then she seems to decide to ignore it, and answers: "... Longer than humans."

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