"Bright day!" A voice intruded on Molly's sleep. She mumbled something and rolled over, swinging her arm out as if to swat the insect away. "You have a beautiful backside. I can see why he likes you."

Her head shot up at those words. An elderly woman stood in her tent, and with a yelp, Molly realized her ass was bare. She yanked the dress down, as heat stained her cheeks and traveled down her throat. Hopefully, no one else had entered her tent this morning. She groaned at the thought that Anzar might have popped his head in to see if she had escaped in the night.

"Who likes me?" she asked as she sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She fluttered her fingers over her temple. Her bruise was a little bit tender but healing.

"Ah, so he hasn't told you ... interesting. My name is Meera. I have come to escort you to my mate, Narro. He is the reigning elder of Sunkhu. It is to him you need demonstrate Mother's preference for gratitude." She tidied Moly's things into the trunk, bit into the fruit from the bowl and wiped the juice off her bottom lip with her thumb.

"Morning Meera and it's called a kiss," Molly smiled and stood up, taking the requisite time to stretch. Her muscles were a stuff from the crash, but she was alive and grateful for it.

"I like your smile, chosen one. It's as if the skies bless us with light." She bit into her fruit again.

Molly bowed her head. "Thank you, and my name is Molly."

"Welcome to Sunkhu, Molly. The females are crafting cloths from skins Anzar has supplied. He is a generous chieftain, and the reason for our continued blessings."

Molly ran her palm from her waist and over her hip, stroking the soft leather. "Can't I wear this dress ... cloth? Isn't it suitable?"

"You wear Anzar's tunic, and for the purpose of this demonstration, it will do." She walked out of the tent, forcing Molly to rush after her. The sunlight warmed her upturned face and a cool breeze promised a pleasant day. She unraveled her braid to finger comb her hair, longing for her brush she had left behind. Such things weren't important when one was crash-landing a ship. She slipped her hairband from her wrist as they paused at the bottom of the tree, where the same elder from yesterday stood waiting.

"Bright day," he greeted, and Molly bowed her head with respect. Remembering Anzar's words from last night, she slipped around the man and kissed the bark. As she stroked the rough bark, she said a hearty morning to it in English. It pulsed beneath her fingers, and she leaned against, wrapping her arms around it for a hug.

The older man cackled, stamping his booted foot and staff. "Yes, I see now why Mother chose you."

"You do?" Molly's settled her gaze on him without releasing the tree. There was a sense of comfort in the gesture, as if she sat on her mother's lap. That was something she hadn't thought about for years, tried not to, if she was honest with herself. The weirdness of her situation was starting to worry her. What did a planet know about her? What would make it choose her? And to what purpose? She scowled at the man. It looked like he had no intention of enlightening her either. The evil bastard.

"You will make a wonderful mate," he said, instead.

That mate nonsense again. "But Anzar said I was safe from the game, that I could choose my mate."

"He is correct. Such a blessing is rare, yet it remains in the annals." The man chuckled. "It pleases me that Mother chose Sunkhu for this honor."

"Come with me, Molly. Let me show you how we gather food, and the many things we do during the day." Meera smiled, offering a hand.

Eager to escape talk of mating, Molly slipped her hand into the elderly woman's as if she had done it since birth.

"Bright day!" a man's voice called out.

Molly frowned at him. Not at his intrusion, for this was his home more than it was hers. But she felt a little exposed, with her long legs and bare feet. Why hadn't the need to hide her body arisen with Anzar? Was it because he saw her naked? That had her frown lowering into a scowl. What was it about Anzar that didn't raise her usual defenses? It was easy to tease him, to smile, as a friend or brother. Perhaps she was more injured than she had realized? She made a mental note to run the med-sensor over her head again, just to be sure.

By the time she remembered to respond to the man's greeting, he had disappeared. She hadn't intended to be rude. She glanced around chewing on her lip as guilt settled in the pit of her stomach. She hoped to find the man looking at her, expecting a response. Not that she had taken the time to memorize his face, so recognizing him among so many warriors wouldn't be possible. She couldn't go to each one and have them repeat "Bright day" in the hopes she might recognize his voice. She shrugged, promising herself to be extra friendly to the next man who greeted her.

She followed Meera around the village, doing as she instructed, paying special attention to tasks she needed to learn to do on her own. By midday, she had enjoyed a lunch consisting of fruit and the milk of a calumsui. Sweet, tart, and silky, the taste of it lingered on her tongue. She still hadn't seen Amy, but the women ... females giggled as they gossiped about the happy couple. How Grax had roared into the night. Molly blushed, having not heard a sound. But she wasn't surprised that Amy had beguiled the man ... male.

She took her furs out and beat the hell out of it with a stick, as Meera had instructed. The exercise felt good, rippling the muscles tense from yesterday's activities. She unpacked her jumpsuit, then ran the med-sensor over her head before returning it to the chest. Someone had placed her airgun, its holster, and the dagger there too. That her tent wasn't private didn't bother her and that had more to do with how welcoming these people were. If she had evil in her heart, hurting these people would be easy.

With her jumpsuit in hand, she strolled to the river to wash it. She watched and learned from the females doing their laundry. They scrubbed and rubbed the fabric on the smooth rocky bank. One woman offered her a bar of soap, it's scent a mixture of vanilla and chamomile. And soon, she hung the jumpsuit out to dry before heading back to her tent to neaten it.

She chuckled. Was she the first human in almost three decades to do her own laundry? Maybe.