Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47569 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47569 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
I know intellectually it’s because they lack the fated connection or even the influence they can achieve with the simple prick of a quill. It makes me sad for humans.
Even though I know Ava is going to struggle at first to accept her new life, she will come around. She will be my precious Little girl. She will eventually smile and laugh and come to me with open arms. Hopefully for a few centuries.
As for nutrition, we don’t have problems with obesity on Eleadia because we don’t have processed foods. We don’t eat animals. Our foods are far more nutritious and healthier than the crap I know people eat on Earth.
For a long time, I will only feed Ava the formula that’s been specifically produced for incoming Littles. We don’t like to rush our females to begin solid foods, and even when we do, we do so cautiously to make sure they aren’t allergic to anything. So far there have been no instances of a female developing an allergy to our foods, but we are still diligent and careful.
Ava whimpers, and I shift my attention to her face, smiling at her so that when she finally opens her eyes, the first thing she sees is my smile. She makes several attempts to blink before opening her eyes.
I rub her cheek. I know she won’t have control over her body at all yet, but she will have all of her sensations. She can feel my touch. “Hey, there, Baby girl. Welcome home.”
Her eyes roam around as she struggles in my grasp.
I stroke her bare arm. “Don’t try to move. You won’t have muscle control yet. Your body will need about two weeks to fully regain its muscle mass.”
She stops sucking, and I think she’s fighting to push the pacifier out of her mouth.
I pop it out and watch as her lips tremble. “You’ll be able to speak in a few days, Little one, and gradually you’ll learn to roll over and sit up. In no time at all, you’ll be on your feet. I promise.”
Somehow my feisty Little girl manages to convey a look that says she’d like to stab me and leave me for dead, but I ignore it. I lift up her bottle. “You must be hungry. Let’s get a bottle in you before you fall asleep again. You’ll sleep most of the time while your body acclimates. Mostly we’ll be operating on a schedule of feeding, changing you, and sleeping for several days.
When I tap her lips, she stares at me with wide eyes. I hate that she can’t communicate with me even if it’s to tell me to fuck off. I want to hear her voice, and I don’t like her feeling quite so isolated and out of control.
The bottle slips into her mouth, and she suckles instinctively. She can’t help it. She’s conditioned to suckling, and she’s hungry.
While she’s eating, she fills her diaper. I’m grateful for that, too. It’s a good sign. All her internal organs are waking up.
It’s a mixed blessing watching her feed. She’s so precious to me, and yet her eyes convey such frustration. I want to make it all go away and skip forward about a month to a time when I know she will have adjusted and be skipping happily at the park with Mia and the other Littles the two of them will meet.
I have to remain patient and remember she’s far more frustrated than I am. She’s furious.
For four days, I do nothing but feed my Little girl, change her diapers, and watch her sleep. I’m pretty sure she’s reached a point where she’s sleeping intentionally because she doesn’t want to face reality. I’m equally sure she’s not making an attempt to speak for the same reason.
On the second day, I took her to the clinic for a checkup. The doctors, Chadka and Thabo, both met her and were pleased with her progress.
On the fifth day, she has not spoken a word yet, and I know she’s capable, so I gather her up, settle her in her stroller, and secure her with buckles. “We’re going to the clinic this morning, Little one.”
She furrows her brows and arches her entire body forward as I tighten the five-point harness. I had no idea she had that kind of strength. I did suspect she was holding back, but not this much. She’s demonstrating a lot of strength in her effort to buck against the straps.
I smile at her. “Ah, so you have gotten some of your mobility back.” I pluck the pacifier from her mouth. “What about speech? Is there anything you’d like to say to Papi?”
She growls and looks away, twisting her head so she’s staring at the side of the stroller.
I lean in and kiss her forehead. It’s the most intimate I’ve been with her since we arrived. I won’t pressure her to experience pleasure while she’s not able to sit up or crawl. It can wait.