Humans are Weird - Vocabulary
First Grandmother tilted her head at the carved wooden steps leading up to the human core-hive and ground her mandibles together. She tasted the salt from the air, some from the nearby saline sea, much from the mammals that were almost universally dozing in the warm summer sun. She adjusted her radiation shield and felt it scrape against her antenna in a way that told her the old antenitis would be flaring up soon, as it usually did when she got back from a wandering. She braced her three good legs, and gripped the handrail and stepped up. Her caution almost prevent her bad abdominal joint from sending a shooting pain into her thorax. She took a moment to collect herself once up on the porch, First Sister had warned her that the Mothers of this human hive were remarkably good at spotting hidden pain, before following the sound of a human voice around the wide porch.
“Howdy whoever you are! Come on over, we’re outside.”
As the voice indicated there were several mature humans sitting in that bizarre way they had of folding themselves around their singular couches. If First Grandmother wasn’t being eye-blind, there was one of the Fathers, and two of the Mothers. A few smaller humans sat half on the porch, apparently weaving grasses, and did not consider a visit from another hive’s Grandmother important enough to look up from their tasks. One of the Mothers was holding a very small human, so undeveloped as to be still on the vine, to her bare thorax. They seemed to be attached somehow, but First Grandmother was vaguely aware that humans were somewhat reticent about nudity and tried not to look to interested. The other Mother was playing with a slightly larger human child that she held on her thick upper legs, which did make a very convenient platform First Grandmother had to admit. The father stood and approached First Grandmother, his face splitting open to reveal unnaturally even mandible protrusions.
“First Grandmother!” He said holding out his hand in a greeting that she fortunately knew. “You are back from Tau Alpha! Any luck snagging us some lumberbacks?”
First Grandmother felt her frill stiffen at this rudeness. She didn’t know, couldn’t be expected to know who she was addressing. Was this the First or Second Father of this hive? Technically she didn’t know if he was a Father at all, he might be some random Uncle for all she knew. The humans had many of those or so she heard. However she stilled her reaction, a hard won habit from a lifetime of free-trading.
“Only some embryos,” she said. “They still did not trust my transport.”
The human nodded in understanding, scenting the air with dissapointment.
“This knucklehead is our hive’s Second Father,” the Mother with the attached child spoke up. “I am his Second Mother, and this,” she indicated the other mature human with a disturbing sideways tilt of her head, “is my Fourth Sister come to visit, Third Aunt to my children.”
First Grandmother gave a grateful nod of greeting to each, as Human Second Father laughed and made an apology before sitting back down, clearly not very chagrined by his lack of hospitality. They passed a few more pleasantries when First Grandmother tilted her head at the larger children.
“Those little ones,” she asked, “do they understand complex social issues? Or do they repeat what they hear without understanding?”
From the sudden interested their body language displayed the answer was probably yes to one of the questions at least First Grandmother speculated. The Sister stood with light, amused pheromones drifting from her body.
“I’ll take the kiddos down to play in the stream,” she suggested, as the three mature humans exchanged communication signals with their darting, bifocal eyes – the equivalent of subtle antenna curls if First Grandmother read the situation right. However having a reasonably unbiased Sister would probably improve the curl of the conversation she hoped to have.
“Sisters usually have very good perspectives,” First Grandmother clicked as the Human Father offered her a juice pouch – a fine, subtle gourd mix, First Grandmother noted with pleasure. In her experience humans tended to favor over rich drupe juices.
There was more of the disquieting, eye-movement communication, and the Father sent the scampering children to go ‘count the growth ring on the goats’ horns’, presumably a task that would keep them occupied and out of hearing while being reasonably safe, and the Sister sat back down with the little one on her lap.
“There is a word I learned in human common,” First Grandmother opened, “hypothetical.”
“So, you have a hypothetical question for us?” the Father asked, leaning back in his seat and taking a sip from his drink.
First Grandmother neither confirmed nor denied it.
“Suppose,” she began, “you had just arrived at your home-hive after a long journey, and instead of going straight into the chaos of your First Son’s garden you went for a brief scamper along the boundary of the forest.”
“That sounds pleasant,” agreed the Human Father, bobbing his head.
“Then you heard voices screaming out insults in a common language,” First Grandmother went on, feeling her antenna twitch with amusement.
“Less pleasant,” the Human Second Mother said, her pheromone profile shifting to something more tart with unease.
“And then you heard a rather random string of profanity, and words that were similar to parts of profanity, as if the person shouting them wasn’t quite sure of what the words were.”
“Confusing,” Humans Second Father, said, his pheromone profile starting to shift back to a light amused mix.
“And if it turned out to be some rather small, I do mean undeveloped for their species small, sapient creatures, hiding in a cove of the beach, shouting out these into the roaring of the ocean waves. And when they saw you they promptly stopped and changed color so dramatically that even someone half blind could notice it.”
There was a low gurgling sound that First Grandmother recognized as a ‘chuckle’ that started in the Sister and flowed around the three humans.
“Hypothetically speaking,” the Father began, “in this situation would the small sapient creatures have mentioned why they were shouting swear words at the waves?”
“Hypothetically speaking they might have claimed that they were practicing to increase their vocabulary,” First Grandmother replied. “Then, to continue the hypothetical, they might have begged you to not, ‘snitch’ on them...what does snitch mean?”
“Old slang for reporting behavior,” the Sister observed.
The group on the porch fell into silence and listened to the thumping and shouting coming from where the larger small children were ‘counting the growth rings’.
“Well, I supposed I’d have to report it to their family,” the Father said with what First Grandmother thought she identified with regret in his voice, “but that would kind of feel like snitching.”
“Yes,” First Grandmother said taking a sip of her juice. “Especially if you weren’t particularly sure about which hive the little ones belonged to.”
There was a pause in the conversation as a particularly loud thud and a distress cry came from the director of the goat pen.
“I told you so!” followed in an exasperated voice.
However from the unconcerned way in which the Mother tilted her head she didn’t gauge it to be a sound profile that warranted intervention.
“Welp,” the Father said as he finished his drink. “Thank you for presenting us with this very interesting hypothetical. It sounds like the surrounding hives would need to talk to their little ones about how to express strong feelings and the importance of not offending other hives, but to avoid resentment maybe they should wait a few days and talk about it in a sort of general way.”
“Would the existence of a printed list of these words alter that plan?” First Grandmother asked.
The chuckle sound went around the humans again.
“If the relevant humans could find the list it would certainly make a spontaneous discussion of the topic seem less like someone snitched,” the Father admitted.
“On another hypothetical,” First Grandmother asked even as she stood to go. “Would it be considered wrong if a little one was making and selling these lists for profit? Small trinkets and snacks?”
“Some little scammer is selling bad words?” the Sister demanded with an outright laugh.
“Hypothetically,” First Grandmother replied.
“Hypothetically,” agreed the Sister with a laugh, “that one could probably be found and talked to in person. The scamp. Even if no one talks, if one kiddo is found to be particularly rich in dodads that might be a sign.”
First Grandmother inclined her head in agreement and was about to reply when a rather large goat came tearing around the corner with a small human clinging to its collar, the goat darted under the porch, how it fit First Grandmother wasn’t quite sure, but the move effectively dislodged the small human who gave off a sound that apparently did warrant the attention of the adults. Feeling her presence no longer need First Grandmother trotted off towards her own hive, feeling that she had hoed her small line for inter-hive peace. It wasn’t comfortable being a ‘snitch’, but, all things considered it was better that she had had the experience than her mate. First Grandfather had opinions about innocence being corrupted and while she loved his passionate dedication to the little ones dearly, they did need to eventually kick their way out of his garden.
“Howdy whoever you are! Come on over, we’re outside.”
As the voice indicated there were several mature humans sitting in that bizarre way they had of folding themselves around their singular couches. If First Grandmother wasn’t being eye-blind, there was one of the Fathers, and two of the Mothers. A few smaller humans sat half on the porch, apparently weaving grasses, and did not consider a visit from another hive’s Grandmother important enough to look up from their tasks. One of the Mothers was holding a very small human, so undeveloped as to be still on the vine, to her bare thorax. They seemed to be attached somehow, but First Grandmother was vaguely aware that humans were somewhat reticent about nudity and tried not to look to interested. The other Mother was playing with a slightly larger human child that she held on her thick upper legs, which did make a very convenient platform First Grandmother had to admit. The father stood and approached First Grandmother, his face splitting open to reveal unnaturally even mandible protrusions.
“First Grandmother!” He said holding out his hand in a greeting that she fortunately knew. “You are back from Tau Alpha! Any luck snagging us some lumberbacks?”
First Grandmother felt her frill stiffen at this rudeness. She didn’t know, couldn’t be expected to know who she was addressing. Was this the First or Second Father of this hive? Technically she didn’t know if he was a Father at all, he might be some random Uncle for all she knew. The humans had many of those or so she heard. However she stilled her reaction, a hard won habit from a lifetime of free-trading.
“Only some embryos,” she said. “They still did not trust my transport.”
The human nodded in understanding, scenting the air with dissapointment.
“This knucklehead is our hive’s Second Father,” the Mother with the attached child spoke up. “I am his Second Mother, and this,” she indicated the other mature human with a disturbing sideways tilt of her head, “is my Fourth Sister come to visit, Third Aunt to my children.”
First Grandmother gave a grateful nod of greeting to each, as Human Second Father laughed and made an apology before sitting back down, clearly not very chagrined by his lack of hospitality. They passed a few more pleasantries when First Grandmother tilted her head at the larger children.
“Those little ones,” she asked, “do they understand complex social issues? Or do they repeat what they hear without understanding?”
From the sudden interested their body language displayed the answer was probably yes to one of the questions at least First Grandmother speculated. The Sister stood with light, amused pheromones drifting from her body.
“I’ll take the kiddos down to play in the stream,” she suggested, as the three mature humans exchanged communication signals with their darting, bifocal eyes – the equivalent of subtle antenna curls if First Grandmother read the situation right. However having a reasonably unbiased Sister would probably improve the curl of the conversation she hoped to have.
“Sisters usually have very good perspectives,” First Grandmother clicked as the Human Father offered her a juice pouch – a fine, subtle gourd mix, First Grandmother noted with pleasure. In her experience humans tended to favor over rich drupe juices.
There was more of the disquieting, eye-movement communication, and the Father sent the scampering children to go ‘count the growth ring on the goats’ horns’, presumably a task that would keep them occupied and out of hearing while being reasonably safe, and the Sister sat back down with the little one on her lap.
“There is a word I learned in human common,” First Grandmother opened, “hypothetical.”
“So, you have a hypothetical question for us?” the Father asked, leaning back in his seat and taking a sip from his drink.
First Grandmother neither confirmed nor denied it.
“Suppose,” she began, “you had just arrived at your home-hive after a long journey, and instead of going straight into the chaos of your First Son’s garden you went for a brief scamper along the boundary of the forest.”
“That sounds pleasant,” agreed the Human Father, bobbing his head.
“Then you heard voices screaming out insults in a common language,” First Grandmother went on, feeling her antenna twitch with amusement.
“Less pleasant,” the Human Second Mother said, her pheromone profile shifting to something more tart with unease.
“And then you heard a rather random string of profanity, and words that were similar to parts of profanity, as if the person shouting them wasn’t quite sure of what the words were.”
“Confusing,” Humans Second Father, said, his pheromone profile starting to shift back to a light amused mix.
“And if it turned out to be some rather small, I do mean undeveloped for their species small, sapient creatures, hiding in a cove of the beach, shouting out these into the roaring of the ocean waves. And when they saw you they promptly stopped and changed color so dramatically that even someone half blind could notice it.”
There was a low gurgling sound that First Grandmother recognized as a ‘chuckle’ that started in the Sister and flowed around the three humans.
“Hypothetically speaking,” the Father began, “in this situation would the small sapient creatures have mentioned why they were shouting swear words at the waves?”
“Hypothetically speaking they might have claimed that they were practicing to increase their vocabulary,” First Grandmother replied. “Then, to continue the hypothetical, they might have begged you to not, ‘snitch’ on them...what does snitch mean?”
“Old slang for reporting behavior,” the Sister observed.
The group on the porch fell into silence and listened to the thumping and shouting coming from where the larger small children were ‘counting the growth rings’.
“Well, I supposed I’d have to report it to their family,” the Father said with what First Grandmother thought she identified with regret in his voice, “but that would kind of feel like snitching.”
“Yes,” First Grandmother said taking a sip of her juice. “Especially if you weren’t particularly sure about which hive the little ones belonged to.”
There was a pause in the conversation as a particularly loud thud and a distress cry came from the director of the goat pen.
“I told you so!” followed in an exasperated voice.
However from the unconcerned way in which the Mother tilted her head she didn’t gauge it to be a sound profile that warranted intervention.
“Welp,” the Father said as he finished his drink. “Thank you for presenting us with this very interesting hypothetical. It sounds like the surrounding hives would need to talk to their little ones about how to express strong feelings and the importance of not offending other hives, but to avoid resentment maybe they should wait a few days and talk about it in a sort of general way.”
“Would the existence of a printed list of these words alter that plan?” First Grandmother asked.
The chuckle sound went around the humans again.
“If the relevant humans could find the list it would certainly make a spontaneous discussion of the topic seem less like someone snitched,” the Father admitted.
“On another hypothetical,” First Grandmother asked even as she stood to go. “Would it be considered wrong if a little one was making and selling these lists for profit? Small trinkets and snacks?”
“Some little scammer is selling bad words?” the Sister demanded with an outright laugh.
“Hypothetically,” First Grandmother replied.
“Hypothetically,” agreed the Sister with a laugh, “that one could probably be found and talked to in person. The scamp. Even if no one talks, if one kiddo is found to be particularly rich in dodads that might be a sign.”
First Grandmother inclined her head in agreement and was about to reply when a rather large goat came tearing around the corner with a small human clinging to its collar, the goat darted under the porch, how it fit First Grandmother wasn’t quite sure, but the move effectively dislodged the small human who gave off a sound that apparently did warrant the attention of the adults. Feeling her presence no longer need First Grandmother trotted off towards her own hive, feeling that she had hoed her small line for inter-hive peace. It wasn’t comfortable being a ‘snitch’, but, all things considered it was better that she had had the experience than her mate. First Grandfather had opinions about innocence being corrupted and while she loved his passionate dedication to the little ones dearly, they did need to eventually kick their way out of his garden.
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