Piper was the human expert on kith. After all, they made up over half of the arcade’s traffic. “I dunno,” she said through a mouthful of chips. “Maybe he just needs more attention.”

“Trust me, he gets plenty.” Elfy leaned against one of the arcade games with his arms crossed. Behind him, Chub had his nose to the floor, snuffling around and licking up whatever crumbs and sticky puddles were lying around on the filthy tile floors.

“All kith really want is to be cared for and make friends and stuff.”

“I think all he wants to do is eat.”

Piper stuffed another chip in her mouth. “I’m sure he cares about you.”

“Sure he does. Deep, deep down, under…all that.”

“Oh, c’mon, give him some credit!”

Elfy looked back. Chub had made his way over to the vending machine and, after a few moments of trying to stick his tongue in and grab something, was throwing his impressive body mass against the glass. “We should go,” he said.

It had seemed normal at first. Chub would eat a lot, sure, but he was a growing blepper! He grew at an exponential rate, outpacing other kith by a long mile. Some people kept their kith in the pockets of their hoodies or draped around their necks. Elfy might die if he tried that.

He accepted that there was a problem the third time that he stood in the middle of a ransacked kitchen, staring at Chub as he licked up the remains of his destruction. The fridge was completely emptied out and all of the cupboard locks had been chewed open. Fortunately, the mess was minimal since Chub had devoured the food’s containers, as well. “Did you have a nice snack?” he asked. Chub lifted his head and slowly licked his chops before turning heel and lumbering out of the room.

Elfy felt a pang of jealousy on the walk to school, watching the students with their kith huddled close in the cold, whispering happy secrets to each other in the winter wind. Chub didn’t seem to care much about anything other than food. He batted at the toys Elfy bought for him halfheartedly while his ally poured over homework.

It wasn’t long before Chub became too big for the house. He filled the doorframes with his girth and knocked over all the furniture in his path. Elfy pushed him out onto the patio and gave him a comforting pat on the head. “Sorry buddy,” he said. When he slid the door behind him, Chub just stared on with those same impassive eyes. His little reptilian hands pressed against the glass and, for a moment, Elfy felt a pang of guilt. Then Chub turned around and started gnawing at the lawn chair.

“He never talks to me.”

Iris blinked up at Elfy with a gentle smile. “Perhaps he is mute.”

“Well, he doesn’t try to communicate with me either. I mean—look!” Elfy pointed behind him, where Chub, now a massive stage four blepper, was chewing on a fallen tree trunk in the distance. “He doesn’t even hang around me when we go out!”

“Why should he?” Iris said.

“All the other ones do! Everyone else has such affectionate kith, but Chub hardly even looks at me.” He huffed a sigh and sat down next to her. “It wasn’t until, like, the third week that this started happening. Did I do something wrong?”

Iris sat back on her haunches and watched Chub make impressive progress on that tree trunk. “It is possible.” Her eyes became a bit more tired, a bit more solemn. “I understand that kith are not like the humans you are used to. We come from such different worlds that communication is…difficult, to say the least. Even more so if it is nonverbal. Please consider, however, that you have not been communicating with Chub in the ways which he would like, just as he has been communicating with you in ways you do not understand.”

“I’ve done everything,” Elfy said. “I leave out toys for him when I go out, I didn’t get mad when he ate everything in my kitchen, and I made a cozy blanket fort type thing for him outside!”

“He sleeps outside?”

Elfy’s ears burned. “Well, he—he doesn’t fit inside very well, and when he does, he just eats all my food.”

“Have you told him not to?”

“Of course, but he doesn’t listen!”

“Perhaps it is an attempt to get your attention?” Iris cocked her head thoughtfully. “You are a studious person, Elfy. That is a good thing. But perhaps you have not given Chub as much devotion as a kith usually desires. We are very social creatures, you know.”

“I tried playing with him and I tried reading with him, but both times he was more focused on getting it done so he could get to his next meal,” Elfy mumbled.

Iris shrugged. “So he does not like books or toys. This does not mean he dislikes you. Perhaps it would be wise to spend some time with him on his terms?”

“How?”

“Sit with him,” Iris said. “Let him do what he wishes, and be there with him as he does. You’re a caring person, Elfy, and you express it readily. Perhaps Chub is different. He may be subtler.”

Elfy thought about that, and kept thinking about it on the entire walk home. Chub lumbered at his side. When they got to the dorm, Chub obediently began to head towards the backyard. “Hold on there, buddy,” Elfy said. “How about you come inside for now?” The kith paused for a moment. He seemed to still be processing the words. Until Elfy moved, he stood silently, but followed his ally in.

Chub seemed to relax in the warmth of the dorm. He padded into the living room and curled up on the rug before Elfy could even unzip his coat. “You tired?” he asked casually. Chub made a quiet rumbling ribbit. Elfy turned on the television and knelt down beside Chub, petting his head. “You wanna watch some T.V.?” Chub blinked sleepily and stood back up. He trudged, predictably, to the kitchen. Elfy suppressed a sigh and followed after him.

He sniffed around and nosed at the fridge. Before tearing it open, however, he looked back at Elfy and paused. “There’s not a lot of good food in there,” Elfy said. “Here. We can cook something new.” Chub made another ribbiting noise and pushed the fridge open with his nose. He turned out to be a pleasant and fairly capable cooking assistant, aside from the fact that he kept sneaking bites of the food before it was ready. Within a half hour, the smell of chicken pot pie had permeated the entire dorm.

Chub, of course, inhaled his portion before it could cool. Elfy huffed out a little laugh and pet his snout. He looked up at his ally with his massive blank eyes and pushed the tin to him. There was a piece of pot pie left—yes, it was covered in blepper drool, but it was the thought that counted. “No thanks,” Elfy said, “I’m good.” He snuffled and walked back into the living room.

They sat together as the sky grew dark, the television a gentle hum before them. Elfy curled into Chub’s side and pet him as he read. When he began to doze off, Chub woke him by nuzzling his fat head into Elfy’s back and pushing him up. Elfy set down the book and, with a deep yawn, walked to his room. No heavy footsteps followed him. Chub stood in the living room, eyes turning from the glass door to the backyard and back to his ally.

“Come on, buddy,” he said. Chub opened his mouth and made an excited wheezing noise, then bounded past Elfy and curled up at the foot of the bed. Elfy tossed a quilt over his girth and leaned down to wrap his arms around the kith’s neck. “Sleep well, buddy.” Chub made a sleepy “brrp” noise and cuddled closer. They both silently sent Iris their thanks.



(bio and paint art by the lovely - Z -)