Tarzan Rey AU Drabble for Persimonne
It’d been three days since their little makeshift camp had been visited. Ben was sure they’d seen the last of the culprit, but his excavation partner stubbornly disagreed. Nevertheless, he failed to lock up the supplies that night, perhaps out of sheer stubbornness. They’re in the middle of the desert, for crying out loud; nothing was out there with them, stealing their food at night. Dameron claimed he’d seen a beast come in and swipe their meals, but there’d been no sign of it for days and Ben was starting to wonder if the phenomenon of mirages extended to seeing animals taking things from you. Of course, that would mean Poe had subconsciously taken the meals himself - and Ben wasn’t quite ready to label his best friend a psychopath just yet.
Poe was already in his tent for the night, hiding from the chill of a cold desert gloom. But their work left them sweltering in the hot sun on a daily basis - and the frigid temperature of the night felt good on an overheated body, especially one that wasn’t used to the heat.
So Ben lingered, soaking in the last remnants of the day by nearly freezing himself near the fire. He huddled in, holding his hands out to keep his extremities warm.
His fingers were long, and chaffed from digging. They left shadows that danced wild and free against the sand beside the firepit.
It was there, in the shadows, that he saw the start of more figures dancing than the ones his own fingers were shadow puppetting. He followed the trail of shadow to its root, and found the small, dirty hands that were reaching up curiosity towards the fire.
He’d found Poe’s burglar, but it wasn’t an animal. It would have made much more sense if it was.
The girl was barely covered in rags that tore across her body, nothing more than jagged strips of animal hide bleached out by the sun and ripped or tied to conform to her basic needs. She wasn’t reaching out to the fire for warmth, as he was. Her fingers were edging closer, and closer; and he could recognize that look in her alarmingly wide eyes anywhere. She was curious - as if she had no idea what the fire was, or how it was going to affect her fingers if she got any closer.
She didn’t, he suddenly realized. She must have never laid eyes on fire in her life; it felt so implausible, and unrealistic, but so did the idea of finding anyone alive out there in the desert wastes. According to logic, the girl shouldn’t even exist at all.
She crept her hands closer, finally too close for his comfort. He reached out and pulled her hand away to save her the trouble of getting burned, but he should have known better than to touch someone so feral. She let out a hiss when she pulled her hand away, baring her teeth at him dangerously, and hopped away backwards to put distance between them.
He could hardly see her in the dark, once she managed to get far enough. All he could see was the intimidating glare of her yellow eyes, reflecting the light of his fire.
“Hey.” He whispered out, only managing to make her back up further. She was on all fours, resting her hands on her knuckles, and every muscle in her body had to be coiled to spring if she could move that fast. She was ready to bolt if he gave her any reason. So he stilled, and gave her no reason.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. Come on back.” He locked eyes with her, his head tilting to the side. His mind chanted with the hope that Poe stay in his tent, else he wake and scare her off, and his voice never drifted louder than a whisper as a result. But she wasn’t responding to his calls, so he turned back to the fire, and pulled his eyes away from the two little yellow dots glaring back at him from a distance.
If she was curious enough to touch a fire, she might be curious enough to return; but he didn’t have high hopes for it.
When he’d finally stopped waiting, and lost himself in the comforting warmth of the fire, he heard the sound of shifting sand behind him. His back straightened, conflicted over whether to turn or not.
He felt her fingers poking curiously against his hair, until they threaded into it and tugged.
“Ow.” His head barely inclined at the tug, but it gave him the chance to look back at her, which immediately had her shuffling away. She was small; undernourished, he guessed. How could she be anything but, if she lived out in the desert alone? He’d seen a herd of some deerlike creature almost two days ago, but other than that the only life he’d ever seen out here were the scorpions, the scraggly, hardy plantlife, and her.
She reminded him of that scraggy plantlife, now that he got a good look at her. Thin, colorful, strong, and so, so very stubborn.
She crawled back towards him slowly, an inch at a time, still resting on her knuckles as she moved with constant hesitation. When she reached him again, she stretched out one hand and poked his arm, his chest, his hip.
He had the strangest inclination that she was testing to see if he was worth killing for food.
Then she reached further and started burying nosy hands into his pockets, searching him rudely. Before he could pull her hand away, she’d grabbed a brush from his pocket, and skittered away several feet with her find. She put it in her mouth, gnawing on the cleaning brush with sharp teeth that would leave marks against the handle.
“Hey. Stop that, that’s not food. Come on, I need that.”
She was hungry. (Could he really be surprised?) He needed her to stop chewing on his cleaning brush before she destroyed it, however; which meant he was going to have to get her something better to chew on. Like actual food.
He opened up one of the meal packets, and the brush fell out of her mouth immediately. She recognized it. She knew whatever was in those was edible, because she’d stolen from them before; and her eyes were rounded so wide, he wondered how they fit in that thin, sharp featured face of hers.
He felt a stab of pity for just how thin she really was.
“You want some?” He asked her, pulling out the roll and throwing it in her direction. The brush was abandoned in favor of it, and she let out a garbled sound as she scrambled to catch and devour the little round roll.
It was gone before he’d even seen her chew it. Geez, kid. He thought to himself. You need help.
If he was actually considering the outlandish idea that he, Ben Solo, the most callous archaeologist known to the community at large, was going to take in a stray like this, he wouldn’t be given the chance to wonder too long. She’d made enough noise to wake Poe, who opened up his tent flap and walked up towards the fire.
Before Ben could say a word, the girl shot past him wildly, grabbing the open tray of food and disappearing into the night with it. He couldn’t even see her eyes anymore; Poe’s unexpected appearance had completely run her off.
“What the hell was that?” Poe had seen something barely attack Ben, before running away, but it was simply too quick to get a good look at it. So his eyes widened and glimmered with excitement, and he crouched down beside Ben to give him a wide, shit-eating grin. “That was it, wasn’t it? I was right! Tell me I was right!”
Ben was still watching the black emptiness where she’d disappeared, but that did not stop him from reaching out and toppling Poe off of his hunched position with a hard push.
“You were right about one thing. There’s something out there, all right.” He muttered, his calm voice tempering the excited stutter of his heart. “Or someone.”
@persimonne has been asking for feral rey HCs and she makes me do things because I have no self control. TAKE IT PEPSI TAKE IT AND BE FREE
PS: IF ANYONE WANTS TO WRITE THIS FIC PLEEEEEEASE DO IT because I am srsly not gonna