Although Wyn was shorter than other drakcol I’d seen, he was taller than me but not by much. I replied, “You’re not short.” I snagged one, taking a bite. The pastry was flaky with a sharp tang, and the fruit was so sweet, it made my teeth hurt.
“For a drakcol, I am.”
Wyn was also more lithe than other drakcol, lacking a muscular frame and broad shoulders. “How old are you?” I asked.
“Our planets' rotations are not the same.”
“I’m aware.”
“By the Coalition standard, I’m twenty-one.”
“So you’re young.” That’s why he was so much smaller, though Kal was twenty-two and he didn’t have the same issue.
“Not really.” Wyn licked some of the jam from his long fingers. “We enter the first stage of adulthood at fifteen, being fully grown in body and in our brain’s development.” He took a biteand more jam spilled out, landing on his chin. When I didn’t say anything, he chuckled. “You can ask why I’m so much smaller.”
“I didn’t want to seem rude.”
“It’s fine.”
“Is one of your parents not a drakcol?”
“While I don’t know either of my parents, I’m completely drakcol. I was born prematurely. It took quite a lot to save my life as an infant, and I never developed to the same size as the others,” he said in a completely calm voice like he was discussing the weather.
“You’re an orphan?”
“My mother abandoned me in the health facility, giving up all rights. I don’t know why or who she or my father are.”
“I’m sorry.” Those words felt too small. What could anyone say in the face of that abandonment? My mother had left me, but not willingly.
“It was long ago.”
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”
His tail fell to the ground, wrapping around his ankle. “True.”
Suddenly, something slapped both mine and Wyn’s back. I grunted, sagging, but Wyn barely moved.
Urgg dropped onto the free stool. “Enjoying the fruits of my labor?”
“Yep,” I said, taking another bite.
“My favorite.” Wyn stuffed the rest of his pastry into his mouth.
“Ah.” Urgg ducked their head. “You two are the sweetest, of course, after Talvax. Talvax is the sweetest.”
“Naturally,” I said.
The unfamiliar barbarus rounded the counter, wiping their hands on a bright pink, ruffled apron. “Boss, after we sell out do you want me to close up?”
“Yes, thank you.” Urgg looked at me and said, “My little cousin. Her name’s Klirgg.”
I nodded, finishing my pastry.
“So,” Urgg started, rubbing their substantial hands together, “what are we doing today? More drinking?”
Wyn groaned. “Anything but that. People are still calling me Ensign Puke after the Commander Monqilcolnen incident.”
“Combat training? There’s a class starting in a few minutes.”
