Girry, who was up bright and early, rushed to a nearby bush— dubbed the toilet—and enjoyed the cool breeze. Once lighter, he got a fire going and put water on to boil for coffee. As he sat waiting, he looked over at Spiffy and admired how comfortable he looked in his unique sleeping form.
His backside pointed up at a very unimpressed sun. His arms stretched out in front of him, and his head was buried a few millimeters in the dirt under his pillow.
Grinning and shaking his head, Girry made his coffee and leaned back, sipping it slowly. Smells of caffeine and fresh logs punched Spiffy on the nose, causing him to sit up fast enough to send dirt flying everywhere.
Turning to the side. “Whoa, careful. Ya almost got dirt in the coffee,” he said, covering his mug.
Spiffy yawned widely while scratching his backside. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry.” He paused and squinted at Girry. “Ah! Coffee. And a good morning to you.”
Nodding mid-sip. “Mornin’. Sleep ok?”
Grabbing a cup. “I did, yes. I had a wonderful dream about my grandmother beating my older brother for getting the house dirty,” he said, pouring coffee.
Girry paused before taking a sip and lowered his cup, frowning. “Wonderful, huh?”
“Oh, yes. Quite. You see, my brother always picked on me.” Sipping coffee. “So, when he got beaten for misbehaving, I always felt warm and fuzzy inside.”
Girry nodded. “Ya sure that feelin’ wasn’ gas?”
Looking at Girry taking a sip. “Oh, my no. It usually happened after I had relieved myself.” He grinned.
Girry smirked, threw a log on the fire, and finished his coffee. Then poured another while Spiffy slurped on his with a big grin on his face as he watched the sun rise.
As the both of them sat there by the fire, they discussed breakfast for a few hours. And after a heated exchange, Girry decided to just make soup and grabbed the bones from the roast, throwing them into a pot with water, spices, and some wild vegetables he found the other day.
Happy with the idea, and no longer arguing, the pair went out to hunt whilst the pot boiled—
I should point out that time on this particular planet is rather interesting. You see, twelve hours on this planet, or one rotation, is about forty-eight hours long. And it actually holds a record for the longest days and shortest seasons.
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Well, that aside, the pair of them spent the entire morning hunting and arrived back at the ship just in time for soup. With Girry having caught two lizards, a male and female. And Spiffy having caught four lizards. All of which were defeathered, drained, and kept inside a box. Incidentally, he had drained the meat on his own and was quite pleased with himself—
Both of Girry’s lizards were placed inside the ship; he made sure Billy couldn’t get to them, while Spiffy, on the other hand, placed his box next to him as he sat down.
Looking at him. “Need a ride home?” Said Girry, climbing out of his ship.
Waving his hand. “Nah, no need to worry,” he said smiling, “my ship is well within walking distance.”
Giving him a nod, Girry sat down by the fire and stirred the soup, adding ingredients and spices, then tasting. Once happy with it, he poured the soup into some metal bowls and handed one to Spiffy and one to Billy. They ate in silence, except Billy, who made very loud slurping noises followed by the occasional grunt.
Then a familiar face walked past in a huff. “I’m so sick an’ tired of these buggers,” muttered the grey-haired aquatic bird.
Girry smirked, “Havin a bad day?”
Glancing at Girry, “Ah, don’t get me started.” He said, waving his wing and walking off.
Soon, he disappeared into the trees, cursing under his breath. Girry giggled, Spiffy frowned, and Billy didn’t care.
Spiffy frowned at Girry. “That gentleman was really quite upset. I wonder why.”
“Probably upset from fightin’,” he said, pointing at the ocean.
Spiffy took a long look at the blood-slicked coast. “Fighting, you say?” He paused for a moment. “I thought they were playing a game.”
Coughing as soup went down the wrong pipe. “A game?” spat Girry, “With all that moanin’ and blood?”
Sipping soup and humming. “Indeed. That’s how games are played on my home planet.” He grinned.
“Uh, right. Remind me not to visit your planet.” He said, finishing his food.
“When?” Asked Spiffy, swallowing some soup.
Girry frowned and side-eyed him. “When what?”
“When would you like me to remind you?” He thought for a moment. “Ah, before I do that, I should probably tell you where it is.”
Girry stared at him for a while. “I was jokin’.”
Smiling brightly, “What was the joke?”
He opened his mouth, thought for a moment, and then shut it. Then replied. “Never mind, let’s finish eating. It’s a long trip home.”
Spiffy looked up at the sky. “Yes, it is, isn’t it? I suppose I should be off. My wife and kids are probably upset with me.”
“Huh, ya have a family?” choked Girry.
“Oh yes, a lovely family. They do, however, tend to worry a lot,” he said, standing up. “Girry, it has been a pleasure. Thank you for the wonderful food and the lessons.” He smiled.
Girry nodded. “Nah, don’ worry about it. Have a safe trip,” he said, standing up and extending his hand.
Spiffy took it with both hands, smiled, and left with his box of meat into the trees. Girry watched him leave and then sat down again—
As a white ship passed overhead, he waved, assuming it was Spiffy, and began to slowly pack up while enjoying the sounds of the planet he had temporarily called home. Billy, however, couldn’t be bothered and instead played with some of the insects. Once packed, Girry gave a whistle and watched as Billy climbed into the ship.
Then, he took his last deep breath of air, accidentally swallowed a bug, coughed, swore at it, hopped into the ship, and left the planet.

