Iris followed the trail of blood droplets from the balcony through the hallway as her vision blurred at its edges. She lost balance briefly and banged her shoulder into the linen closet wall on her way to the bedroom. Iris could hear the rhythmic pounding of blood flowing in her ears again, which drowned out all other sounds as she lumbered through the tiny apartment.

Keep it together, Iris. Come on.

The bedroom door stood closed, which was unusual. Doors in the apartment were typically kept open for ventilation, especially during the sweltering summer months. Iris turned the knob and tried her best to open it silently, but the faint squeak alerted Zayzann to her presence. The darkened room's air was stale and stifling, as she expected it would be. Aside from the typical smell of sandalwood, it reeked of hydrogen peroxide and dried blood.

As her eyes adjusted, Iris could barely see the wounded Paxoram huddled and partially wrapped up in the linen duvet. His body was a heaped mess, haphazardly balanced half on and half off the bed. With a flick of the light switch, Iris could see everything.

Zayzann grasped at his wrappings and tugged the duvet over his head, cowering from the light. He whimpered and pulled his limbs close to his body in a fetal position. The flimsy duvet did little more than soak up the red-violet blood and offered little protection or concealment from Iris’s concerned eyes.

“Oh my God. What happened?” Iris croaked in a hoarse voice. “Zayzann, let me see you, please.”

He loosened the tight grip on his shield and allowed Iris to peel back his protection. The crisp linen duvet was freshly tie-dyed with red-violet blood, mottled by fresh wounds that stained the cheap fabric. She recoiled in surprise but continued pulling back on the covers.

Zayzann's arms were a patchwork of cuts and abrasions. Most of the glass had been picked out of the wounds, though a few slivers were visible in some cuts, and a few tiny pieces clung to his vibrant blue down feathers. The shards were easily seen and removed in the light.

Iris examined his cuts and cleaned them up as best as she could. Zayzann had used half of the small bottle of hydrogen peroxide earlier, leaving just enough for Iris to clean up what injuries were left. He’d cleverly learned how to replicate the first aid he’d seen Iris perform earlier, which made her task much easier. Iris only spoke after he had calmed, and the wounds were clean.

“Zayzann, can you tell me what happened?” Iris asked. Zayzann wrinkled his nose and brows, tugging the line of facial crest feathers up slightly, like a cockatoo. “Please, it's really important.”

“There was... a monster,” he replied weakly. “It came in through the opening, and it bit me here.”

Zayzann raised his leg up to show Iris the bite marks. His tough, scaly calf skin was dotted with indentations, but no blood was drawn. Iris exhaled slowly after confirming that the bite didn't bleed.

“What did the monster look like?” She asked.

“It was terrible. Hairy. Four legs. And a tail.” Zayzann shivered and spoke slowly. “Pointed ears. Black eyes. Cold nose. Sharp teeth.”

Iris bit her lower lip and narrowed her eyes, scanning her memory. She pulled out her cellphone and typed into its image search feature. Iris licked the reopened cut on her lip from yesterday and turned the phone towards Zayzann.

“Is this the monster?” She asked.

“Yes! That is it! The beast that bit me!” Zayzann fluffed and sputtered. His violent jostling threatened to reopen and worsen his fresh wounds. “It was that!”

“Shit,” Iris whispered to herself. “I was hoping it wasn't..."

But it was. Iris knew in an instant what had transpired. Zayzann must have opened the balcony door for some fresh air, only to be charged and bit for his trouble. The terrible beast that attacked her visitor was a cantankerous, mean-spirited German shepherd owned by Mrs. Rozniak, Iris's dreaded landlord.

In all her years, Iris hadn't known another dog as vicious and cruel as Jasmine. She barked and charged at neighborhood children. She foamed and snarled at postal workers. Jasmine even killed cats or birds that had the misfortune of wandering too close to her yard. It was only a matter of time before she bit a person, and poor Zayzann was her first victim.

“I-I didn't go outside, I promise.” Zayzann teared up with his fluffy ears drawn back. “I just wanted to feel the breeze. It was so hot here. I saw the monster run inside as I closed the door, and it bit me.”

“And then?” Iris asked.

“It bit so hard, and I shook it off. It started yelling at me. I couldn't get the door open again. So, I bashed the shiny hard air to pieces. It tried to bite me again and I threw the beast outside. It ran away crying after that.”

“Oh geez, I'm so sorry,” Iris replied. “You must have been so scared. I'm sorry, Zayzann. I didn't think...” Iris cradled his neck and head in a warm hug, and Zayzann snuggled into her embrace for comfort.

A heavy silence lingered. Zayzann couldn’t bring himself to admit it, and he was intent on keeping it a secret. When Jasmine entered the apartment, Zayzann wasn't afraid at all. Not one jot. His feathers puffed out on end, and he gnashed and snarled at her. He was ready and even anxious to destroy this intruder.

In two days, two invaders had stormed Iris’s apartment. He was left to wonder how often these attacks occurred. Zayzann tensed his jaw and blinked the nictitating membranes briefly over his glossy alien eyes to clean them. His brows furled severely in anger that Iris couldn’t see.

Not again. No more predators here. Zayzann vowed to himself.

In that same silence, Zayzann committed to protect his new watch-mate from harm. She was small, weak, and naive. She was too kind to survive this harsh environment, with its many monsters. Honestly, it was amazing no other ills befell her. In his mind, Iris was lucky he came along, and he would have to do better for her protection.

“What is the monster called?” He asked.

“Her name is Jasmine. She's a dog. Dogs are sometimes kept as companions by humans. Many dogs are friendly, but Jasmine isn't. She belongs to the woman who owns my home, so there isn't much I can do to keep her away,” Iris explained. “Try not to go near the dog again, okay? She's a mean old thing, and might try to bite you again, understand?”

Zayzann understood perfectly and nodded back at Iris. He wordlessly swore to himself that if that miserable creature set even a single paw in this apartment again, it would be her last step. The talons on his feet twitched before tensing up again. Then Zayzann ran his tongue against the serrated edges of his teeth, checking for sharpness.

As he did so, Iris wordlessly tidied the rolls of gauze, bandages, ointment, and peroxide. She threw away the glass pieces and spent first aid supplies. Zayzann watched her with interest while remaining motionless.

The bed was a crime scene of blood, feathers, and gauze. Iris pulled off the duvet cover, discarding the puffy insert to the floor. She rolled up the sheets and pillowcases into a wad and stuffed them into a large, black trash bag.

It was abundantly clear that no amount of washing the sheets at the coin laundromat would get that much blood out of them. For all the money it would take to launder, it would be cheaper to simply replace them. At least she had enough spare sheets to remake the bed. Iris tried not to breathe through her nose as she sealed the offensive trash bag. Zayzann ran his tongue over his dried lips and finally broke the silence.

“I am sorry for ruining your nest,” he said.

Iris stopped fiddling with the garbage bag and looked up at him. Her face was a wash of sadness and pity.

“It’s okay,” she replied. “They’re just sheets. I’m more worried about you right now. I can’t take you to the hospital, and there’s no guarantee I got all the glass out of your wounds.”

“I will heal. Paxoram are good survivors,” Zayzann assured her. “I have lived through much worse than this.”

Knowing that he’d suffered more gruesome injuries didn’t set her mind at ease. Instead, Iris’s eyes looked more sorrowful, as if she could burst into tears at any moment. Zayzann drank in her forlorn expression and inched closer with an outstretched hand. Before he could cradle her face in his hand, Iris sighed and spoke again.

“Want to help me make the bed? I’ll teach you. Here, take a corner.” Iris handed him a corner to the fitted sheet, and he duplicated her motions to put it on over the mattress pad.

“Do all humans prepare their nests before sleep?” he asked.

“Not everyone, but I like to. It means I have a nice place to look forward to after work,” she said as she smoothed the sheet.

“What is work?” Zayzann interrupted.

“Many humans have skills and services that they provide to the whole group, in exchange for resources. That's work,” Iris explained.

“Like fishing? I catch fish and share them with the village,” Zayzann offered. “The villagers trade for cloth, or drink, or tools.”

“Yeah, something like that. I use my skills to earn money,” Iris continued. “Money can be traded for many different things that cost different amounts. Fish cost money. Clothing, shoes, food cost money. Even our homes and furnishings cost money.” Zayzann stopped shifting blankets.

“Even your dwelling? The dwelling requires money?” he asked. Iris nodded at Zayzann as she laid out a fresh blanket over the bed.

“That's right. I need money to do almost everything. I trade my work for money, then trade that for things.” Iris fluffed the pillows at the head of the bed and tugged the pillowcases into place.

Zayzann was puzzled over this information. “How do you get money?”

“Well, lots of different ways. I work in an office for important people. They assign me tasks and I perform them in exchange for money,” Iris added. “It’s not a lot, but the money I earn lets me eat and keep the apartment, so there's that.”

“Can I see some?” Zayzann tried changing the subject.

“Oh, sure.” Iris delved into her pants pocket to pull out a crumpled dollar bill and a small palmful of change. “This is money. It comes in paper bills and metal coins, See? Paper is usually more valuable than coins.”

Zayzann leaned over to examine the bill and change with great interest. He sniffed over the metal coins and the linen bill. The bill smelled much the same as the scrap he found last night on the kitchen floor, albeit this one was much more crumpled and used.

“Is this big money or little money?” Zayzann asked.

“Like, what is it worth?” Iris replied. “Here, I'll show you.”

Iris handed him the bill and change, explaining how much each denomination was worth. She went around the apartment for nearly a half hour, showing Zayzann how much things cost. Food, clothing, and furniture cost money. Bills were even more expensive and keeping a home cost the most of all. The reality of living on Earth was beginning to set in on him. It was much harder to get by on Earth than on Zhalterra.

Zayzann could sense the topic was bringing Iris down, so he tried to shift the focus to something else. He fumbled for a moment, before landing on the big question in his mind.

“Iris, can I share your nest? Would you let me stay with you?” Zayzann pleaded.

A hush fell over the room as Zayzann awaited Iris’s response.