The Hrlgo female walked slowly around them, examining them carefully, meticulously. When she was done, a male came and repeated the inspection, though his effort seemed pro forma, ritual. When he was finished, the door flaps of the enormous tent were pulled back and they were allowed entry.
“I can’t decide whether I feel like the guest of honor or the main course.”
The scientist testily whispered, “Don’t be silly; nobody’s been eaten on Hrlg for years.”
“That’s so reassuring, Doc.”
“When we meet the Broon, let me do the talking.”
“Fine with me. Just don’t piss her off, Doc.”
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