You know my name is supposed to start with a click?
If you’re a fellow IPA enthusiast you could read it as !ɛstʉ, meaning something like ‘rationally’, though I prefer ’reasonably’.
Humans, and to be honest, most races I’ve come across, have a hard time wrapping their heads around click sounds. Though I should say most humans. Learning to speak African Nama was a nice taste of home during my time on Earth.
But ’Testu’ makes things easier for everyone, not that there’s anyone here to say my name, and not that I cared much to begin with. At least English only has one way to say ‘the’.
Random linguistics aside, I should have mentioned I formulated that tangent while hollowing out a log. We and the humans had a similar development process when it came to nautical engineering.
Log float > Make us-sized hole in log > We float.
Bet the human who figured that out thought they were real original.
I’m hoping to get my bearings on the coasts around me, and also see if I can find some more… exotic creatures to fill my stomach with. The thought of more seaweed and scorpions makes me nauseous. Though I’ll eat a hundred more before setting foot in an Applebees ever again.
I can only hope there’s no krakens out there. If I’ve learned anything from the planets I’ve visited, it’s that whatever monstrous beasts you find on the ground, there’s something ten times more terrifying deep underwater. Things that like to crack little log-boats like sticks.
I came down to the beach today to find a guest.
Gooey and flat, kind of like a stingray if it had more tentacles and filter-feeding appendages. Its skin was dark, covered in blue spots, and it had barely escaped whatever attacked it.
Its two remaining eyes looked up at me as I stepped towards it. Beached on the sand with a dozen gruesome wounds, there was nothing more to be done.
I put my hand on the least scratched-up part of his hide I could find, and gave it some small comfort in its last moments. I don’t know what it was thinking, probably some animalistic nonsense, but it kept its eyes on me until they fluttered shut, and it was over.
Here, sitting on my log and watching the sand-scorpions enjoy their buffet, I wonder what the purpose of sentience is. Maybe it’s for moments like these, going out of your way for the creatures who lack it, just because you can. Maybe it’s for this, existing here as a piece of the universe, watching itself eat another.
I should get back to my boat.