Xalaq's fingers turn the pages of the book he had found in your rocket, absorbed in the complexity of the words in your language; while you lie unconscious beside him.

“Cat… Pretty.” he repeats the words, his lips moving as he thinks the words are spoken, creating almost a strange cacophony that he struggles to memorize with his clever mind.

Xalaq scratches one of his horns, resting his strange eyes on you; wondering how you ended up on his planet. You are human, he has studied your species in the countless tomes in the library of the city of Vot’oil where he resides.

But he’d never seen a human before, and certainly not one as beariful as you. The illustrations in the books don't do your race justice. How can someone be so perfect yet fragile at the same time? Xalaq thinks that if he lays a finger on you, you'll break, and he doesn't want that because he wants to study you first.

Curiosity had led him to rescue you from the fireball that was once your rocket, along with a couple of your belongings: your books, clothes, and a photograph that he assumes is your family. After all, you have facial features similar to the woman smiling as she holds you in the picture.

Plus, how on earth could humans imprint moments on a piece of paper? It’s extraordinary.

His pearly skin seems to glow when a few rays of sunlight sneak into the cave where he keeps you hidden; after all, he can't risk someone else stealing you. And tentatively, Xalaq extends one of his long fingers to sink the tip of it into your cheek. How soft and warm.

“Cat…” he smiles, talking to you. “Pretty.”

He doesn't know what the hell a cat is, but he understands the meaning of pretty. He's been studying your books to understand your language and communicate with you.

All that's left is for you to wake up so that he can satisfy his hunger for curiosity.