Pollpryd

The Lost

Frowning, Pollpryd dragged his fork through the lo mein noodles, trying to muster up the appetite to finish his lunch. Though learning the language of the humans had been difficult for him, the biggest challenge Pollpryd faced since his untimely arrival on 'earth' was stomaching the food. The greasy, flavor-enhanced foods of this world were far different from his natural diet in Sornieth, and though he searched through the city for something to satisfy his cravings, no taste seemed to remind him of home.

Unable to force the unpalatable food into his mouth, Pollpryd reached for the cookie that the kind servers at the Chinese takeout line had dropped into his bag with the receipt. Cracking open the cookie, Pollpryd slid the leaflet from its crisp cookie shell. "You laugh now. Wait until you get home," the fortune read. A threat? Pollpryd looked around him cautiously, a bead of sweat developing on his forehead. No, of course not. No one had any reason to believe that he didn't belong here. Since his unfortunate mishap with the wormhole, he had been certain to disguise himself appropriately among the earth's chief inhabitants. In fact, it was his desire to learn more about human behavior that brought him to the park today. He had placed himself on a park bench in one of the city's busiest spots, hoping to observe people's gestures so he could better understand body language.

Dressed from head to toe in an elaborately designed poncho, Pollpryd didn't exactly blend into the city crowd. The murky green-streaked hair that peaked out from underneath the hood of his poncho added to his mysterious appearance, but Pollpryd didn't mind the stares that he occasionally attracted. For the most part, he was unaware of the others looking at him, reaching out for their children to usher them away from the peculiar-looking stranger. Though he quickly realized that most others didn't dress like him, he was unaware of the social stigma attached to sticking out from the crowd. Occasionally people would approach him, asking if he would be willing to read their palms. He was often mistaken for a fortune teller, cloaked in the poncho's hood and wrapped with a headcover.

As Pollpryd stood to throw away his lunch, he noticed the shadow of another person blending into his own on the concrete. Remembering his strange fortune, he quickly turned to look over his shoulder at the man, much taller than he, standing behind him.

"So, what are your rates?" the man asked inquisitively. He had a kind face and dark hair, and he was looking at Pollpryd expectantly.

"Excuse me?" Pollpryd asked.

"You know, can you read my mind or something? Whatever you're selling out here, I'm buying," he said eagerly. Pollpryd continued to look at him blandly. "Not a big fan of Chinese I see?" the man persisted, looking at the noodles as they slid from Pollpryd's tray into the garbage can. "Well let me tell you, you're eating at the wrong place. The Dragon on Main Street is definitely a better deal," he said.

Pollpryd struggled to keep up with the man's quick and lively speech. He seemed to switch topics very quickly, and as he spoke, he gestured wildly, waving his hands in the air. Dropping his tray onto the pile of trash, Pollpryd turned to face the stranger directly. "Oh," he said flatly. He didn't offer anything else; he wasn't sure what would be appropriate to say in a situation like this. Generally Pollpryd was avoided, not confronted, when he spent his days in the city.

"You're not from around here, are you?" the man asked, though he spoke it as though it were more of a statement than a question. Unable to pick up on the question's rhetorical nature, Pollpryd remembered his fortune cookie with alarm. Gritting his teeth, he looked at the dark-haired man. "What do you mean? Of course I am from around here," he managed. Though his mind raced with panic, his voice came out dull and monotone. "I've never been anywhere else in my life. I mean... I haven't come from another planet or anything," he added with finality.

For a moment, the man only stared at Pollpryd blankly. His deep brown eyes stared directly into Pollpryd's own, as though he were trying to detect some sort of emotion. "You're funny," he said. "You know that? For a second I almost thought you weren't kidding. Your voice sounded so serious; I thought I might be having my first encounter with a Martian, you know? Next I thought you were going to ask me to take you to my leader," he rambled on.

Exasperatedly, Pollpryd wiggled his ears, attempting to express frustration. He didn't understand the man's reference; learning the language was one challenge, but understanding the culture was another thing entirely. If this man were a Fae, he'd understand that Pollpryd was giving the common signal for 'leave me alone,' but unfortunately, crest expressions didn't often translate well into human body language. Laughing, the man pressed on.

"Woah, you can wiggle your ears? I could never figure out how to do that!" he said with a goofy expression on his face. He took his ears between his fingers and waggled them up and down, trying to mimic Pollpryd's movement with great difficulty. In frustration, Pollpryd shut his eyes. Covering them with his hands, he tried his best to concentrate on the inflection of the man's voice. "Am I really that ugly?" the man joked, noticing Pollpryd's hidden eyes.

"I don't understand you," Pollpryd said in a plain voice, ignoring the man's teasing.

The kind-faced man stepped towards Pollpryd and reached out his arms, pulling Pollpryd's hands from his eyes, "Then maybe you should look at me when I'm talking to you," he said in a soft, overly friendly voice. Pollpryd jerked his hands away from the man.

"No, that's quite alright. I think I've learned enough for today," he said quickly, turning over his shoulder to walk away from the strange encounter. Humans and their disregard for personal space, he thought, hurriedly returning to his apartment.