An explosion of yellow spirals appeared on the alien’s chest as Juna settled herself against the trunk of the tree. It beckoned her closer but she refused to move. Getting this far was terrifying enough. She wanted to sit somewhere that felt safe for a while.

The alien came toward her, walking easily on all fours. It settled itself only a couple of meters away. Reaching into its satchel, it took out a large yellow fruit, holding it up so she could see it. It bit into the fruit, chewing and swallowing with ostentatious enjoyment. The alien flushed a deep shade of turquoise. Then it took another fruit from its satchel, shuffled forward cautiously, and extending a very long arm, set the fruit on the branch within Juna’s reach. It moved back and finished the fruit it was eating, never taking its gaze from her.

Juna looked from the fruit to the alien. Her stomach growled. She was ravenous. Moving slowly, she picked up the fruit. Blue and green flowed over the alien’s skin, like ripples over the surface of a pool. Juna examined the fruit. It was soft and pulpy, like a papaya, and smelled sweet. Her mouth filled with saliva. She hadn’t been this hungry since she was a child in the refugee camps.

What the hell, Juna thought, I’d rather die of food poisoning than starvation. At least it looked more appetizing than some of the things she had had to eat when it was a choice between starving and eating filth. She bit into the alien fruit. It was delicious, the flavor falling somewhere between banana and papaya, with a hint of hard-boiled egg. She glanced down. Her skin was brilliant turquoise.

“Good,” she said. “It’s good.”

At the sound of her voice, the alien’s delicate ears fanned wide.