( @camomilafil, Here’s for your first prompt, a short scene from Nyota’s first semester at the Protectorate!)
The first snow of the year dusted Nyota’s fur and crunched under her feet, fluffing out in a thick flurry as she shook it out of her hair. Marcy laughed and scooted out of the way as it drifted down around her. “Hey, watch it!” she scolded, lightly punching Nyota’s arm. “It’s like being caught in a blizzard, standing next to you.”
“Sorry,” Nyota said. She tugged her collar a little higher. “I forget how easily buried you short humans are.” She grinned as Marcy punched her arm harder.
“Ow. What are you made of, rock?” Marcy grumbled, shaking out her hand. “...don’t answer that. But at least that’s over with. Good-bye finals, hello winter vacation.”
“I hope we passed,” Nyota murmured, a trickle of anxiety clawing at the base of her throat. Professor Nikko had reassured her already that Protectorate exams had nothing close to the consequences for failure that Miniknog schooling did, but old fears died hard.
“Relax, Nyota… You studied more than any of us. You’ll be fine.” Marcy patted the Apex’s shoulder, then sighed. “I’m pretty sure I flubbed the combat exam. Your tip about picking something with reach to make up for my height helped, but I did terrible in hand to hand. I’m just not cut out for that. Maybe I should just stick to my books, but they’ll never let me off-ship once I graduate unless I can defend myself…”
“I can teach you a few tricks for that,” Nyota offered. “When I first learned, I was smaller than you. ...It’s not that unbelievable,” she protested at Marcy’s exaggerated look of surprise.
Her friend just laughed. “Yeah, I know. I remember the pictures from Xenobiology. Your people start off so tiny! And then you grow up so huge. ...guess those growth spurts are fun?”
“They are… something,” Nyota said, vaguely remembering how much she had grown after her fourteenth birthday, but her mind was elsewhere. They had reached the Tree, but still no sign of Isobu.
Marcy had noticed too. “Where is that Novakid?” she grumbled, looking around. “He said he’d meet us here so we could get lunch, right?”
“He did…” Nyota looked around. Isobu was probably just late, got sidetracked in talking to someone again. Just as she thought that, she caught sight of his telltale glow leaving the building.
Marcy spotted him in the same moment. “Hey! Iso--”
Nyota put a hand over her mouth. “Shh.” She let go and crouched down. Faint memories flickered in her head: a much younger Nyota, snow-laden trees, other children playing under them.
“Nyota, what?” Marcy started to ask, then saw the snow in Nyota’s hands and grinned. “You’re mean, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told.” Nyota straightened up, took aim, and hurled the snowball.
Isobu looked up just in time for the ball of cold powder to burst against his chest. “What the hell?” he crackled. A second ball took his hat off and knocked him flat.
The Novakid lay there for several seconds, then sat up and picked up his hat. He could hear Marcy laughing from here and saw Nyota forming another snowball. Isobu had never really played in the snow before. It was unpleasantly cold and melted too fast in his hands. But his gloves today were heavily insulated, and he just could not resist the challenge. “Right,” he muttered, scooping up a handful that started turning to slush at his touch. “Try this, hotshot.”
Nyota dodged the first one, the sudden movement making her miss her shot. She wasn’t ready for the second. It caught her right in the ear.
“Nyota! Hey, are you alright?” Marcy asked as the Apex fell over. She set her books down and leaned over. “Isobu, dang it, you threw too hard!”
Nyota was making a strange sound, low and rusty and unfamiliar enough to make Marcy worry. It grew louder as Isobu approached, his glow clouded and uncertain, and Marcy felt the worry melt away until her expression matched the wide smile on the Apex’s face. For the first time since they had met her, more than a year before, Nyota was laughing.
