Today’s prompt: Garrus, James, “you probably shouldn’t eat that”
James stabbed the lizard with his field knife. He skinned the little beast. It still twitched. James jumped the first time and ignored it after that.
“You probably shouldn’t eat that,” Garrus said.
James impaled the lizard on a stick and stuck it over their camp fire. “I probably shouldn’t have lit a camp fire, either, with those elcor after us. But without smoke we’re going to attract rippers. You think angry elcor are bad?”
“My friend, if I was worried about the elcor, I wouldn’t have let you light the fire. The rippers don’t scare me either.”
“What does scare you?”
“You eating an ikki lizard without removing the glands behind its head first.”
James stared at Garrus. Was he pranking him? James sighed. Damned turians all looked alike. He hadn’t yet learned to read when they were happy, sad, or messing with you, other than general body language, and Garrus kept his cool poker face better than anyone. He took the lizard back out of the fire. It had a flat, spade-shaped head, like a snake, with two bumps on the top. James poked at them with an armored glove.
“That’s them,” Garrus said.
“What are they?”
“Notice how they don’t have eyes?” Garrus said. James nodded. “They’re a metallic solution that keeps them oriented against the magnetosphere so they can find their way.”
“Cool. So what?”
Garrus chuckled. “You’re good with a gun, but you really need to learn some chemistry. When that metal hits the hydrochloric acid in your stomach, your belly will go boom like you just swallowed a bomb.”
James snorted. When Garrus’ expression didn’t change, he asked, “You’re kidding, right?”
“If you eat the whole thing, let me hold your med kits. Then don’t worry—I won’t say ‘I told you so.’”
James cut the glands off and resumed cooking the lizard. Garrus leaned back against his backpack and gazed up at the stars. “Much better. Now we can enjoy our evening.”
James shook his head. After they weren’t being chased by land tanks and rippers he’d have to look that one up.