Loren reached out and ran a hand softly along the creature's long neck.
Kirk tried to think, testing his muscles without moving, and he remembered then the ripping along his right arm. He looked at the arm and at the way his jacket had been torn away along with the shirt beneath it. He could see the comb-like marking of his skin. The cut was not deep but it bled a little and stung. He tried to move his arm and found that he could.
Kirk looked back to Loren. Loren stroked his hand along the thin neck of the creature. Kirk decided to try:
"That's a nice-looking animal, Harry."
Loren's expression did not change.
Kirk paused. From the looks of the man, Loren had been here a long time, a very long time. It had been a crash, probably. And all the years afterward of loneliness, all the time for the quiet but sure warping of the brain.
He raised a hand quickly, watching Loren's eyes. Loren did not change expressions or move the pistol, but Kirk felt a comb-like claw touching his hand, freezing it to motionless with its razor tips. Kirk looked at the creature. The dark blue eyes were steady. Kirk lowered his hand slowly and the claw was drawn away. The creature's head resumed it's gentle swaying, and Loren's hand resumed its stroking.
Kirk licked his lips.
"Where have you been?" Loren said, his voice sudden and hoarse now.
"Where have I been?" Kirk said, tight and motionless.