Sweat dripped heavily down the Being’s sensory organ cluster; caught by the fling of a white rag from shoulder to shoulder.

.

Gliesian Youngers teetered curiously back and forth at the edge of a bubble of their own curiosity; tempered with caution. They didn’t want to get too close. White powder flew everywhere around the creature; rapid movements tempered by practice and skill. The Olders stood in awe at the fluid movements and intensely precise mechanics.

.

This One wasn’t sure what to expect when the ship wafted out of the sky and settled dandily on the outskirts of the Dwell. As This One had ceased work to watch; joined by a multitude of Others, the ship opened, ejecting a jovial Being pulling a large cart behind it with one arm, the other waving. Only two arms?! How odd. This One felt sorrow for such a handicapped creature.

.

This One no longer thought it sorry; for even though the creature had two less arms than any Gliesian, it was clear that those two arms were fully utilitized; not one movement was wasted.

.

Several large circles on the cart flared red, and This One felt heat wash over the crowd. The Being’s pink skin turned red as It slid handled discs of metal onto the heat spots.

.

And then It waited; eyeing the discs intently. Silence. Everything stood on the cusp of each moment; gas intake cycles were held; until finally…the Being dipped it’s mandible into a container of aqueous hydroxygen and flung the drops across the discs. Evaporation.

.

Nodding It’s organ cluster up and down, the Being deftly poured measured amounts of yellow liquid substance onto each disc. This One watched intently with all four eyes, noting the liquid change form, expanding upwards and turning brown. Quick flips of a black tool inverted the orientation when the brown reached a certain shade.

.

The same tool retrieved the now solid substance from the pan. The Being turned, displaying all of It’s white mouth bones. And then It spoke:

.

“I’m making Pancakes. Who wants some?”