A Catian's Dream Ch. 03

He took it in stride, cranking back his arm and splatting her across the face with the juice. She squealed and leapt to get more, just behind Jon who found a second bushel falling near his feet. He rushed to rearm, caught up in the moment as he forgot about the expensive suit he had ruined, or the million tasks he still had to do before the end of the week. For a few minutes of his life, Jon was a part of the group, sharing in the joy of being alive.

The grove descended into chaos as the Catians turned the celebration into an uproarious battlefield. Everyone was laughing and smiling, slipping and sliding across the wet grass as they flung the smelly fruits at one another without care for rhyme or reason, pelting friend and foe alike. The attendants, now soaked in the stuff themselves, continued to saw down more and more bushels.

The place took on a manic, almost hysterical air of gaiety. People were running to and fro, flinging fruits across the grove as the initial free for all turned into a two-way battle between one side of the grove against the other. It was like some kind of lunatic dodgeball, with both sides taking turns simultaneously flinging barrages of fruits at their foes before ducking in cover to avoid the counter-bombardment. Rikka and Jon stood side by side, soaked from head to toe in pinkish juices laughing and cheering as they dodged fruits and threw back at their equally-soaked enemies.

In the midst of all this, Yalnoi ran amok, climbing juice-coated trees and skittering across the sticky battlefield in search of ideal places to eat. Half the time they were victims of friendly fire as fruits flung between the factions struck gliding Yalnoi from the sky or ricocheted off them as they scuttled across the deadly no-man's land.

The battle could have gone on forever, as far as Jon was concerned. But the second stage of the ritual began when the Priestess lifted her arms for silence. Shouting continued for a few more seconds, and more than a few stray fruits were flung 'accidentally' across the gap between the two sides as a final retribution for one attack or another. But at last, the Priestess' beaming face brought forth a permanent ceasefire.

"The time has come!" She called out, gesturing for her attendants to return to her side, now as thoroughly coated by the juices as the revelers were. It was only at this moment that Jon realized that together with the Priestess, her attendants were the exact number of a traditional Catian Pryde. "Joi-Yaa-Zom!"

"Joi-Yaa-Zom!" The Catians shouted. Rikka cupped her hands together and roared it at the top of her lungs, her booming voice carrying in Jon's ears. Despite himself, Jon found himself joining in the call.

The crowd of Catians broke apart once more, charging off as individuals into the crowded epicenter of the grove. Over a hundred of the Yalnoi were spread out across the grove, dipping their long beaks in the juices and licking the liquid off the trees and grass and scattered shells. They scattered when the Catians came near, and the situation devolved into something akin to a chicken chase as Yalnoi dived between and around the grasping claws of the Catians who tried to catch them. Everywhere Jon looked Catians were snatching up the little Yalnoi into their arms, clutching them to their chests as they laughed and displayed the colors of their catch's feathers to their friends and loved ones in the crowd.

Remembering himself, Jon resolved to catch one of his own. What was the one Rikka had said meant wealth? The gold with silver plumage, he thought? As he dodged between the trees of the grove he sought out the color. After a short, frantic search, he caught sight of one of the Yalnoi with the exact feather coloration he was looking for, like a gold coin sitting amongst hay. It had its head buried in a half-busted bushel of the fruits, its ears twisting this way and that in the wind as its devoured the delicious bounty.

Noting that the most successful Catians tended to attack their prey from behind, Jon tried to sneak up on the creature. However, less than a half dozen feet away it seemed to sense him, its head twisting almost completely around to stare its beady eyes at his person. Jon rushed forward, reaching out with his hands to try to catch the creature. It squacked and took off, leaping over the bushel of fruit and cantering off in the opposite direction. Jon fell onto his stomach and slid, the juice coating the grass turning into a virtual slip n' slide.

Undaunted, he picked himself up off the ground and charged after it, sprinting as fast as he could after the surprisingly nimble beast. He came close to catching it several times, but the final insult came when he crashed into another Catian moving in a different direction to him chasing an entirely different bird. The two collapsed into a heap together, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

The chase began to wind down, as the Catians who had been lucky enough to catch a Yalnoi began coming to the Priestess to display the bounty they had acquired from their specific-colored bird. She nodded at each in turn, praising them for their catch with their own particular blessing. Each time the attendants around her sang out the blessing for the whole crowd to approve.

"A long life!"

"Delicious meals for a decade!"

"Beautiful children!"

"Wisdom in age!"

Jon watched from the sidelines with an undisguised grin on his face. He had never expected to have so much fun with such a strange custom. Too often had he gotten caught up in the minutiae of the upper crust of cultures, of hob-nobbing with stuffy dignitaries in champagne rooms with cigars and caviar. To experience something like this, something so raw and jovial and... and fun, it was a wonderful experience.

"Next!" Called out the Priestess, gesturing to the latest Catian to step forward. To his surprise, it was none other than Rikka herself, her easy smile stretched wide across her face as she hefted a fat, wriggling Yalnoi in her arms. Its plumage was a sable brown, flecked with spots of pink and purple. It was a strikingly beautiful bird... if a little on the tubby side.

The Priestess stared at it for a moment, grinned, and then called out.

"Lucky in Love!"

"Lucky in love!" Her attendants shouted, and the crowd cheered.

Rikka blushed, turning to stare at Jon for a long moment with that toothy smile of hers. Her eyes lidded, and she winked at him. She stepped aside to allow the next guest approach to approach the Priestess. She waddled over to him with her bird, letting go once the squirming creature squacked and managed to wriggle free from her grasp. She let it go, laughing as she picked up speed.

It was only in the last few seconds that Jon realized she wasn't slowing down. She leapt into his arms, wrapping her lithe legs around his waist as she took him to the ground. Jon gasped in a surprised breath, caught off guard at the sudden closeness. She draped herself over him, her eyes fixed to his as she planted her hands onto his chest, her wet fingers curling across his now-ruined suit jacket.

She bent her head down, planting a long, deep kiss on his lips. To his own surprise, Jon let her. The Catians around them let out a raucous cheer.