[Caretaker. That's one of the roles that this man's kind have played for it. And it's easy for the creature to understand him in that way, too — for everything else this strange being may be, he's caretaker in some capacity, as well. It has to trust that none of the frightening, painful things will follow. It has to trust that he'll only help it, not hurt it. It doesn't trust him fully, still wary, but it knows that this is the best, most safe choice for it right now.
To be carried across the cold floor, to whatever that source of heat is. It learns so quickly; already it knows exactly how to enter the man's arms, imitating how it had earlier, when being taken down from the bed. It crawls into them and to his chest, a more secure, stable place, not particularly fond of the thought of falling. It isn't used to being up high like this, digits curling against the material of his shirt, tail winding securely around one of Vasiliy's forearms, latching itself onto him that way.
But he's so afraid. It can sense it, feel it — blood pulsing, adrenaline spiking, heart fluttering faster. It's understandable; the creature knows it mere presence is enough to frighten and upset... nearly every other entity it's ever been exposed to, human or animal alike. But its intention isn't to elicit fear, not in this man — no matter how tantalising that flare of cortisol might be, it isn't hungry right now; it's just been fed, after all, and fortunately for Vasiliy, does consider him to be particularly unappetising...
....but how to convey this?
With its body language. The alien curls in tighter on itself, and actually seems to shrink a little, mass-wise. It keeps its limbs intact (the usual ones, anyway; the smaller vestigial ones remain tucked in uselessly to its sides) — but its general size reduces a bit. Smaller. If it's smaller, it won't seem like a predator. And there's something else — its hood flattens back, no longer flared outwards. This is a risk, makes it weaker and less swift with reacting to stimuli, but right now, it has this man's body as protection. And so it tries to show him that he needn't fear it. ]
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To be carried across the cold floor, to whatever that source of heat is. It learns so quickly; already it knows exactly how to enter the man's arms, imitating how it had earlier, when being taken down from the bed. It crawls into them and to his chest, a more secure, stable place, not particularly fond of the thought of falling. It isn't used to being up high like this, digits curling against the material of his shirt, tail winding securely around one of Vasiliy's forearms, latching itself onto him that way.
But he's so afraid. It can sense it, feel it — blood pulsing, adrenaline spiking, heart fluttering faster. It's understandable; the creature knows it mere presence is enough to frighten and upset... nearly every other entity it's ever been exposed to, human or animal alike. But its intention isn't to elicit fear, not in this man — no matter how tantalising that flare of cortisol might be, it isn't hungry right now; it's just been fed, after all, and fortunately for Vasiliy, does consider him to be particularly unappetising...
....but how to convey this?
With its body language. The alien curls in tighter on itself, and actually seems to shrink a little, mass-wise. It keeps its limbs intact (the usual ones, anyway; the smaller vestigial ones remain tucked in uselessly to its sides) — but its general size reduces a bit. Smaller. If it's smaller, it won't seem like a predator. And there's something else — its hood flattens back, no longer flared outwards. This is a risk, makes it weaker and less swift with reacting to stimuli, but right now, it has this man's body as protection. And so it tries to show him that he needn't fear it. ]