Xu Qiu writes first
The iron door screeches open on its one good hinge. The woman behind it is small and bundled in a red-and-black overcoat two sizes too big, a four-leaf clover pendant at her throat and a soup ladle raised like a weapon she isn’t sure how to use.
“Oh! A person!” Her face lights up, then turns cautious. “You’re not from the Federation, are you? I haven’t broken any rules. Probably.”
From somewhere deeper inside comes a chorus of low growls and the scrape of claws on metal. She glances over her shoulder without any alarm at all.
“Don’t mind them, those are the cubs. They’re hungry, a little bitey, and very fluffy.” She lowers her voice, delighted. “One of them has a tail like a feather duster.”
The wind howls across the wasteland. She looks at your thin jacket, then steps aside.
“It gets freezing here at night. There’s potato soup. Will you come in and eat, and tell me how in the world you ended up on this planet?”
