\|/ Turn still unknown, dark
I've managed to maim myself even more.
I actually managed to sleep well this dark. Mik's triple layer solution, the two blankets and my cloak, meant I was actually warm. I managed to force myself not to think too much about Mik's cloak or the fact that I was still being useless.
When I woke up, Mik was there, huddled next to me. First light came from outside, but it was faint.
I decided to try and move more. I was getting far too uncomfortable from being in the same position for so many turns now.
I lifted my right arm, bringing it out of the blankets. I could move it normally now, but it felt extremely weak. My muscles felt nonexistent.
Then, I tried lifting my left arm.
It went poorly.
I barely managed to fold it out of the blankets, it felt extremely stiff and unresponsive. I lay it down on the blankets.
I tried moving my fingers independently. I couldn't.
I knew how they were supposed to move. I could feel them "moving" to where I expected them to, but the four digits visibly weren't moving.
Oh no. No no no no no
I started panicking.
Had the infection completely ruined my arm?
I needed to see what I had done to myself. I couldn't properly do it while lying down.
I gathered all of my strength and tried my hardest to push my back against the floor to sit up. I failed. My core just couldn't bring me up.
I dragged myself away from Mik who was still sleeping. I usually slept for longer than it, but I didn't need that much sleep after being comatose for however long I was gone.
I planted my right arm on the ground and pushed with all of my might.
It took a while, but I managed to sit up. My tail felt utterly sore from being on it for so long, but I didn't care. I was still covered in blankets quite tightly, but my arms were free.
After struggling to balance for a bit while sitting, having to catch myself with my right arm, I found a point of stability.
I looked at my left arm for the first time since waking. I held it with my right hand.
At my forearm, the site of injury, the same bandages were hiding the wound.
But I could see how far the infection had gone.
My left hand was brown, with only hints of yellow on my clawtips.
The upper arm was a darker yellow than the rest of my body, with brown between my scales.
Oh suns.
I decided to take off the bandages. I had to see what was left of my arm.
I slowly and carefully started peeling off the bandages.
Surprisingly, there was another layer.
Not my body yet, but some kind of extremely wide, white leaf with blue accents. It had dried and shriveled. It made the air taste like some unsavory medicine.
This has been here for a while… Had Mik put this on?
I took the leaf and started peeling it off. It was practically glued to my scales. It took a lot of effort and prying to get it off, but when I got to about a quarter it went easier.
I finally revealed the site of the wound…
And I quickly put the leaf back. I prayed I was only seeing things again.
Without looking, I pried the rest of the leaf off of the wound and set it aside. I took a few deep breaths and prepared myself.
But I couldn't be prepared for what I was about to see.
The wound was closed, but it was so horribly misshapen.
The scales that grew over where the wound used to be were almost black, with the rest around it being a deep brown. They were jagged and misshapen, connecting in ugly clumps instead of a normal pattern of overlapped scales.
The small thorns that used to be there weren't proper. They weren't pointy as they should be, but rounder at the edge and more like bumps from some disease. It didn't look like my body, despite having the air taste just like the rest of it.
I took a few deep breaths and tried moving my left arm again, without using my right arm as support.
It felt heavy, not like a part of me, but like a dead weight I have to bring up. A dull ache accompanied the process of my arm rising. It didn't feel like my body.
I managed to bring it to shoulder level before a sharp pain stopped me.
What?
I tried bringing my arm higher, and a horrible pain spread through my left arm, sharp and quick.
I can't-?
I tried using my right arm to bring it up without using my left arm's muscles. The pain struck immediately.
Suns…
I stopped trying to raise it higher and let go, keeping it at stomach level. I tried moving my fingers individually again. They only twitched a little.
I closed my left hand into a fist. It made my whole arm shake.
I stopped and looked at the ground in defeat.
I managed to mutilate myself more.
I wanted revenge, and I got it. But I lost another piece of myself.
My back thorns, my entire left arm worthless.
I couldn't even cry at this point. I was unrecognizable.
I am crippled.
I am not in my own body.
I continued spiraling like this, staring into the ground.
If I ever came back home, what would my parents think?
I could imagine the look in their eyes, the stance of their tails. Pity, desperation. I loathed it.
My friends and coworkers, gossiping about my arm and back. Like my specific tailend wasn't already enough material. The reactions at the memo from the higher ups, informing everyone to be helpful to me, like I'm a liability.
I got progressively more hateful as I thought how my life would be if I ever made it back. Even with the context of my mission that had gone wrong, I would be a martyr at best.
"First Scale to leave our system comes back beyond recognition! See pictures!"
I was practically vibrating with anger when Mik's hand flailing in front of me snapped me out of it.
I hadn't noticed how much time had passed. Mik was awake and crouching beside me.
I looked at it, my tail twitching behind me. It didn't seem to notice. Mik generally failed to notice tail signs.
It saw my horrible left arm and said something, probably asking about it.
"It's not good, Mik." I muttered, bringing it to shoulder level.
Mik stared at it for a bit before bringing its right arm to mimic my left arm and raising it.
"I can't go further than here." I explained. I showed this by lightly bringing it up to the point where the extreme pain started.
Mik failed to understand.
It took my left hand with its right hand and stared at the wound a bit more.
"Do you mind?" I grumbled.
Mik then brought my left arm above my head.
The pain was unbearable. My entire left arm was in complete electrifying pain. It felt like my nervous system was on fire, spreading to the left side of my body.
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!"
"GET OFF OF ME!!"
I quickly pushed Mik with my right arm. I was weak, but Mik was in an awkward position balance wise.
Mik lost grip of my arm, falling on its back.
My left arm quickly fell back down, still roaring in pain.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!" I hissed at Mik, tail lashing.
Mik sat back up, holding its left arm in the splint with its right hand.
Mik got angry quickly, the face contorting in rage as only Mik's face could.
It said a few things very loudly, placing its finger in front of me multiple times, before taking its cloak and stomping outside. I heard it walking away from the tent.
…
I was still incredibly angry while alone, tail lashing and arm burning.
But as a bit of time passed and the pain receded, I slowly calmed down and breathed.
Suns, that was painful…
…
I started thinking about my actions.
I shouldn't have pushed Mik. And it shouldn't have brought my arm up when I showed it the limit…
Mik was probably trying to be helpful, but it was so careless with what it had done. Who was even at fault?
I was already agitated because of thinking about my arm.
But Mik couldn't have known that… We barely manage to communicate; it can't read my sunsdamned mind.
A stupid communication error brought us to the situation where we both suffered.
…
After a while, Mik came back, still visibly unhappy.
It sat down at the opposite end of the campfire, taking its journal and distracting itself.
How do we even make up when we can't talk?
The communication barrier had reached its worst point now. Two aliens in a fight because of stupid miscommunication. Usually, I would apologize for my actions and explain why I did it, but that was far too complicated for our gestures and drawings.
Drawings…
Maybe I can explain what happened by drawing?
I took my journal and opened a page where there were calculations from before and a bit of free space off to the side. I need to conserve space so I can write here.
Mik had been the one doing most of the drawing before. I needed to be creative, then.
So, I drew a few sketches, going from up to down.
First – Mik's version of me (the weird line one), holding arm at shoulder level
Second – Mik's version of me, holding arm above shoulder level. I added a lot of lines and swirls around to indicate pain.
Third – Mik's version of it (the line one without the tail) holding my arm above my head. I added more lines and basically scribbled on the drawing.
Fourth – Me pushing Mik. I scribbled out myself but still let it be visible.
Fifth – Mik tapping my tailend, what we usually do as reassurance.
I hoped it would understand that I was trying to apologize and that the action. It was a reaction, sure, but it was still unwarranted.
I put the pen at the appropriate page and tossed the book over to Mik, being careful of the fire. Fortunately, I didn't accidentally burn my only journal.
Mik noticed the journal land and looked at me. I made an opening motion with my hands.
It took the journal and opened it, breathing deeply once. I saw it was on the correct page.
It bared its teeth and shook its head. It came over to me and sat down, opening its own journal.
Mik then quickly drew itself and its left arm in the splint. It added lines, indicating pain as well. I hurt it when it fell down.
"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to hurt you…"
It said something back. Maybe it was an apology, maybe it wasn't.
"Peace?" I said, bringing my tail up.
It shook its head again, chuckling once, and lightly hit my tail with a closed fist.
Huh?
Mik then put my journal in my lap again and continued writing in its own.
What does the hitting my tailend mean? Is it the same as tapping?? Are we making more weird communication signals???
I just couldn't anymore.
My left arm being utterly maimed, then the whole fight that resolved surprisingly quickly, and now there were more weird alien signals.
I'm writing all of this now. This all happened not long before I started writing. I still don't understand the whole fist thing. Was it supposed to be differentiated from an open tap? Was I supposed to point my tail differently? The only other way I could point it would be to impale Mik, and that wouldn't help anyone.
I'll just say that a closed fist meant the same as a regular tail touch, I guess… I don't even know anymore…
…
At least the whole ordeal made me distracted enough to make me stop thinking about my arm. I hope it becomes better at some point, but this looks… bad. I'll have to wait and see.
Mik's cooking more of the weird poison meat. Whatever it caught must've been big since we're eating the same thing again. No berries, though. I hope they didn't run out or wilt.
I wonder what the outside looks like. I'll check it out when I have the strength. I am feeling much better now, though. Not good enough for standing up.
But soon.