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Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad

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Myssmo had wandered off again. Srafen rippled rher fur in annoyance. What was the point of having a pretty female assistant to hand rher test tubes and tell rher how brilliant rhe was if the pretty female assistant couldn't be bothered to stay in one place?

She'd probably gone out to ogle Law again, Srafen thought with fond exasperation. Fine, then. Srafen wasn't above fetching things from the supply closet rherself if need be. For all rhe knew, rhe'd get more done without Myssmo there to be, ah, distracting.

(Myssmo was rather good at that. Even Srafen, despite rher age, had noticed it.)

Srafen thought, perhaps, rhe ought to have expected to find the missing Myssmo entangled with Law in the supply closet. The only surprising bit about it was that there wasn't a pretty little surmale entangled with them.

“Please,” Law whispered, “don't tell my parents.”

“Young lamm,” Srafen replied, fur arranged in an expression of good-humored irony, “do you really think the two of you are the only ones who've ever fornicated in couples?”

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Goddamp the rain! Without it Hedgyt and Srafen might be lying on the shore entangled in the arms of some pretty little island shemale, but as it was the two of them were stuck together in the ship's surgery, waiting for what seemed like octaries already to finally take their shore leave.

It wasn't fair, damp it. And worse still, someone had absconded with the juicing box.

And Srafen was amused by all this, damp rher. Oh, rhe was trying to conceal it, Hedgyt knew, but he could tell by the way rher pelt was set.

“We don't actually need a female to enjoy ourselves,” rhe observed in the same cool, analytical fashion rhe used when describing Kood Island fauna. It was damply annoying for all that Srafen was—just as annoyingly—correct. The Navylams of Foddu were infamous for their shipboard perversions—what was the old expression, 'juicing, coupling, and the lash?'

Still—it just wasn't natural!

Hedgyt slowly relaxed his tense fur. No, it wasn't natural, but neither was floating around in a wooden sandbucket in the middle of the salty bedamped ocean. And who knew? Maybe Srafen, with all rher observing and theorizing, might find something natural about it after all.