“Yes, your Majesty?” she asked, bowing.
“Take these talking skinkles down to the pond for a quick wash, won’t you? They’ll be joining us for our dinner tonight as guests of honor.”
The pink petaled daisy, which had the face of an old woman and a slightly bent stalk, gave Terra and her crew a sideways glance.
“Talking skinkles! To think I’d live to see the day!” she muttered. But she gave a quick jerk of her petaled head, indicating they should follow her and set off across the broad rolling fields.
THIRTY
“I don’t know about this,” Tem murmured as they followed the older female daisy. “I don’t like the way we’re getting away from the path.”
“It’s just for dinner,” Terra protested. “Aren’t you guys hungry? I know I am.”
“But we’re on a time limit,” Tem pointed out.
“Of seventy-two hours,” Rive said. “We haven’t even used a third of that yet. Though it was quite traumatic, the time we spent on DY-12 was also quite short.”
“Besides, I could use a break,” V’rone growled. “That last world really fucking took it out of me.”
Tem was surprised at his colony-mate’s admission. The Brawn of the colony almost never admitted weakness or fatigue. If V’rone was saying he was tired, then maybe they really did need to stop for a short rest.
He tried to push the uneasy feeling he kept having about this new world to the back of his mind and nodded.
“All right—I’m sure a quick meal with the Frizzles will be fine.”
“The Froozles,” Rive corrected. “And as I said earlier, I have a poison indicator so we can be certain the food we eat is safe for humanoid consumption.”
“That’s fine then,” Terra said, nodding.
Tem nodded as well. He hoped she was right, but he couldn’t help feeling uneasy as he saw the glowing golden path recede in the distance…
THIRTY-ONE
The golf course-like land continued, though the rolling hills became higher and higher. Soon they seemed to be going through the areas where other Froozles lived and worked. They passed an area that had open air ovens and stoves. Many large flowers were working busily, clearly preparing the meal they were about to eat.
The smells coming from the ovens were delicious—fresh baked bread and roasted pork, Terra thought. As well as some exotic spices she couldn’t name. All in all, the meal they had been promised seemed like it was going to be wonderful and she was glad they’d decided to stay in the Froozles’ world for a little while and take a break.
After all, they only had one more world to get through after this and they still had two and a half days to manage it. They would be fine, she told herself—just fine.
Just as she was thinking this, they passed by a strange sight—it was a pen, not far from the outdoor kitchen, that was filled with skinkles.
The Chihuahua-sized humanoids were naked, running around on all fours. Some were fighting with each other and others were—to put it politely—mating.
“Oh, my…” Terra murmured as she watched a miniature man with a shiny bald head humping a miniature blond woman with large breasts which were swaying with every thrust.
“Horny little things, aren’t they?” V’rone remarked with a grin.
“Yes, I guess they are,” Terra said. “Do you really think they’re non-sentient?”
“Only one way to find out.” V’rone knelt by the side of the large pen and made clicking noises with his tongue. “Hey, over here,” he called coaxingly.
Terra was surprised when several of the little miniature people came over to sniff the big Monstrum’s fingers.
“They seem fairly tame,” Rive remarked, also bending over to study the tiny people.
“It’s just so weird to see something that looks just like you in miniature,” Terra remarked. “Hey, guys,” she called, also putting her hand in the enclosure. “Come on over and let me see you.”
Several little skinkles came over to sniff her fingers and Terra petted them gently on their little heads.
“Can any of you talk?” she asked softly. “Can you understand what I’m saying?”
But none of the skinkles answered. They let Terra pet them for a few moments and then, when it became clear that she didn’t have any kind of food to offer, they wandered off again to fight and play and mate some more.
“Oh, now I wondered where you’d gotten to.”
The creaking voice from overhead belonged to the grandmother daisy who had been leading them. In their interest in the skinkles, all four of them had stopped following her and were leaning over the pen.
“Sorry,” Terra said, craning her head to look up. Though the older female daisy was only about three meters high instead of four meters like the male daisies, it was still a stretch to see her face. “We just got so interested in these little guys,” she said, pointing to the skinkles in the pen.