Where were we?

  Ah, right. Girry was in the process of cooking crabs. Well, more accurately, he was letting the crabs cook themselves. Still slightly baffled by them, he went behind a bush to use the loo.

  A few moments later, he was pleased to find his pot filled with lovely crabs cooked to perfection. Grinning, he took a seat and had a taste as a curious little creature poked its head out from behind a tree.

  Girry admired its cute face and four bulbous eyes that seemed to be looking left, right, up, and down all at the same time. The body was covered in orange hair with rodent-like limbs.

  He stared at the creature for a long time while adding spices to the crabs. He didn’t stare too long, but not too short, either. Just long enough to consider portion sizes, cooking methods, and serving suggestions.

  “Hmmm, wonder how that teeny thing’ll taste?” he muttered while chewing on a crab leg.

  While eating, the creature cautiously hopped over to the pot, sniffed it, tilted its head, and dived in. Girry jumped back as he watched it finish the entire pot. It even ate the pot.

  Right then and there, they locked eyes. Well, they tried to. It’s a bit difficult when the eyes look everywhere but forward. However, at that exact moment, a friendship was born between a cutesy creature and a chef. And, incidentally, somewhere else in the universe, a similar cutesy creature was busy digesting a would-be chef.

  Luckily for Girry, his new friend wasn’t interested in eating things bigger than itself.

  One smirked as the other cleaned its teeth, then both sat by the hot coals of the fire. As the wind blew through the long purple grass, it sighed long and deep. Trees fluttered and shook in the distance while black and gold insects buzzed about.

  They were rather interesting insects. Slender with eight legs, a pincer, long golden transparent wings, and ten blue eyes. They’re very peaceful and help flora to grow, similar to bees on Earth. Unlike bees, however, they won’t ruin your day if you get too close.

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  Girry noticed how curious his new friend was as it looked at the insects buzzing overhead. He decided to keep him and immediately thought of a name.

  “Billy…” he mumbled, “yeah, that’ll do.”

  The orange creature— I didn’t mention its name. Did I?

  Well, this species is called Raaby. A small carnivorous opportunistic hunter, and as you’ve no doubt pieced together, they are also rather docile and sometimes eat iron.

  They sat, enjoying the wildlife, and soon afternoon became night, and the two of them fell asleep while the fire crackled peacefully. Many hours later, the sun rose, casting a beautiful red glow onto the purple grass as it sparkled with dew. A soft, warm breeze carried a calming scent of dirt and nectar from nearby flowers.

  Insects, birds, voogins, and some upset cat-like creatures woke them up. Stretching, the two of them went to the loo, ate some roasted roots, had some coffee, and got to work gathering up crabs for the food stall. Well, Girry gathered some crabs. Billy, on the other hand, played with them before eating them.

  Girry still found it surprisingly easy. This time though, instead of following all the steps, he would catch and store them inside his ship. Sadly, unlike the Voogins, the crabs did not mate, nor do they mature very fast.

  Due to that, he made sure to catch a decent amount to see which were male and female. After a long day of catching, he climbed into his ship, making sure to load Billy in as well, and took off. Now, since the trip would take a little over a week, allow me to talk about the ship. Oh, don’t sigh at me.

  Even though it’s considered a “junker,” it still gets the job done. It has a pointed nose leading to a cockpit with an angled window, flush with the hull. The streamlined body looks like a cone with thrusters at the back. The underside is flat with four disgruntled clamps holding onto a storage container. It has a faint, musky smell with weird mushrooms growing on it. Even though the ship is fairly sleek, it is not a fighter. I doubt it would even last a second in dogfight—

  Girry, Billy, and the container stuffed with crabs, after a week, had finally made it back to the food stall. All the crabs were dumped into the now-empty Voogin pen, where he would slowly but surely figure out who was who. His plan was simple. Figure out what the females look like, let them breed, separate them from the males, split the females into mating groups, and then cook said males.

  In his head, this would keep his supply steady for a few months. He would only need to make a few trips each year to restock on males and maybe some fresh females.

  Billy made himself comfy inside a tiny box next to the stove and Girry’s smelly shoes. Each shoe had a well-placed hole to allow a single toe to poke out.

  Time will tell whether the two of them will be able to tell which crabs are male and female. But, since I have another story to get to, I’ll leave the two of them alone for now.