Echo

Smoke from their campfire curled into the air, joining the hoard of clouds that kept the stars from view. It had been a while since Noa and Mae had been allowed the luxury of a fire. A few days prior they had encountered a fractured remnant of Proximus’ clan. For four nights they had remained in darkness, taking shifts so one could rest while the other kept watch. There had been a few close calls, but by some miracle the pair had escaped the gang. After so many tense hours and sleepless nights, the campfire was a welcomed reward.

The warmth of the flames was calming, the silence comfortable. Mae and Noa had grown used to one another’s companionship. There was still trepidation due to their recent past, an unsteadiness about their relationship. But trust was beginning to form again, fueled by their agreement to try and foster human and ape relations. They had a long journey ahead, and Mae wasn’t sure it would even bear fruit. After all, humans were weary of apes, to put it mildly. Many even flat out hated them. But still, something in her had to try.

As the evening wore on, the fire began to dim. Mae was growing tired, but before she would rest, she needed to try and fix her hair. The once neat braid has become knotted from days of neglect. She had hoped keeping it in a plait  would help lessen the mess, but her efforts had been in vain. She removed the tie and began to unwork the strands, but found she was met with tangle after tangle. From the corner of her eye, she could see Noa watching her, and his gaze only made her more flustered.  

Eventually the semblance of a braid turned into a rat’s nest, and Mae couldn’t stand it any longer. She reached down into her boot, retrieving a knife, and brought it up to the matted knot. She only got a few strands in, before his voice stopped her.

“What are you doing?”

Noa’s voice was confused, maybe even a little concerned. Mae lowered the knife, the few severed hairs falling to the ground. “I can’t untangle it.” She spoke as if it was an obvious solution, and in some ways it was. Long hair was a nuisance at best in this world, and a danger at worst. An enemy could easily grab her braid, and she would be finished. In truth she had thought about cutting it for a while, but had been unable to go through with it. Her mother had worn her hair long, and doing the same reminded Mae of her.

“Let me…try.”

The offer took Mae by surprise, and to be honest, Noa was surprised by his own words. But the thought of the woman cutting her hair saddened him. When she chose to wear it down, he enjoyed the way it danced in the wind. When they had the luxury of rest, he enjoyed watching her run her fingers through the strands before deftly braiding them back. Something about it was beautiful to him.

Silence hung in the air for a moment, and Noa worried he had crossed a boundary. After all, the act of grooming was intimate for both human and ape alike. So he was relieved when Mae finally nodded her head, sheathing her knife as he made his way over to her. The ape positioned himself behind the human, gently moving the braid off of her shoulder. He let the knotted mess slide over his palm, surprised by the softness despite the matt.

Standing so close, Noa was keenly aware of his mass compared to Mae. He was so much stronger than her, than all of her kind. One wrong move and he could seriously injure her. Even though he was only touching her hair, the thought made him nervous. With a new resolve he began, his large fingers easily managing the delicacy required for such a task. He was mindful of Mae’s breaths, how they seemed to quicken as he worked. Was she scared? Was he hurting her? He attempted to be even softer, his fingers working on small sections at a time, making sure not to tug or pull at her hair. He tried to ignore her small movements, how delicate the curve of her neck was, how he could hear and almost feel every breath. He told himself just to focus on the task at hand, but still, every small thing distracted him.  

Mae felt warm, her skin flushed. She told herself it was embarrassment about being unable to handle such a simple task on her own. But there was something more to it than that, thoughts she dare not explore. Not yet.

 She was amazed by how soft his touch was, how he barely tugged at the tangled strands. The feeling would have been calming, had she not been so tense. As he made his way from the tips towards the roots, his fingers began to occasionally graze against the skin of her neck. She could feel the callouses, the strength of the digits. The first time it happened she shivered, and Noa paused for a moment, making sure she was okay before he continued. The second time she nearly did the same, but forced herself to remain still. The added tension only caused her heart to quicken. Why was she reacting so strongly? She was no longer scared of Noa, he had proven time and time again that he would not hurt her. No, the feelings were pleasant, enjoyable. Which was terrifying. The only explanation for her reaction consisted of two words: touch starved.

Mae couldn’t remember if she had read about it in a book, or if she had heard the phrase from a fellow human. It didn’t matter. Those two words had to be the reason for her strong reaction. She had been without contact for so long that her body was craving it. This was just a physical response to loneliness. It meant nothing.

That didn’t feel entirely honest, but Mae refused to think of any other explanation.  

All too soon Noa had come to the end of the knot, freeing the last few hairs. He had completed his task, but still he kept going, unwilling to admit he was enjoying the task of grooming her. He told himself he was being kind by continuing on. He would braid her hair as well, but not because he enjoyed the softness of it. Or the way the brown color seemed to warm in the firelight. He would do this as a way to help a tired friend care for herself. Just like he would help groom any close friend. He ran his fingers through the base of her hair, ghosting along her skull, trying to ignore the way the woman shivered again. He wondered if she was somehow cold? No, Mae’s ears were slightly pink, and her skin was warm beneath his hands. She felt hot, yet still she trembled.

Gingerly, Noa worked his fingers from root to tip, turning his thoughts to how similar yet different it was tending to hair rather than fur. The technique was almost the same, but the length of hair was almost overwhelming. When he was satisfied her hair was tangle free, he separated it into three even sections, beginning a new braid. At first he felt clumsy, he was used to braiding vines for rope, not silky thin strands. But soon enough he was able to adjust. As he worked he could almost feel Mae wanting to speak, her body practically vibrating beneath him. Yet she remained silent, as she often did when unsure of the perfect words.

Once he reached the end of the braid, he moved to hold it together with one hand. With his free hand, he reached over her shoulder, palm up, silently asking for the tie. Mae startled slightly from the movement, and he gestured to the string in her hand as an explanation. She understood, placing it in the palm of his hand, her fingers lightly grazing his skin. It took Noa a little time, but after a few attempts, he had tied a secure but simple knot. One he was sure the human could easily undo on her own. He let the fresh braid slip from his hand, watching as it fell back onto her neck.

After he finished his task Noa gave Mae her space, though his eyes lingered on her form. He watched as she moved the braid over her shoulder, fingers running along its length. She was surprised by the smoothness of it, by how tightly woven he had made it. “Thank you.” She offered, and Noa grunted in response.