Challenge #00851-B120: One Fine Evening at a Galactic Mixer Party

Between two cultures, the body language and customs for aggression/anger in one are very similar to the flirting/courtship of the other.

In this scenario: A series of attempts to get an individual to agree to a date are taken entirely the wrong way.

She shouldn’t have gone amongst the Deathworlders. She could already feel her mortality creeping up on her. Havenworlders and Deathworlders never mixed well.

“Pretty,” said one of the Deathworlders. A tall beast with entirely too much hair and sharp, efficient-looking teeth. It looked… hungry.

“I am not edible,” she lied.

“Dunno. You look pretty delicious to me.” More bared teeth. “I won’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

Ryll shrieked and ran away.

When she offered up the complaint at her districts’ security kiosk, they carefully and repeatedly explained that the human in question was trying to flirt with her.

Deathworlders… they were so baffling.

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