I had just descended and harvested a crop of the glowing, nutritious plant life that grows in abundance in the underground, when I was interrupted by a scream and a loud snap.

I wouldn't have thought much of it by itself, there were animals which crept in the subterranean darkness, and the terrain could be treacherous, it wouldn't be the first time something slipped and fell to its death, but this scream was different, there was in it that made my blood run cold.

After some searching, I found a wounded creature. It was bipedal, covered in a thin, ink-black fur with piercing orange eyes. The tip of its tail glowed with a faint bioluminescence, silhouetting its body weakly as it laid in a crumpled heap of blood and broken bones.

A life support system clung to its chest, beeping rhythmically as its foreign numerals counted down the last minutes of its life. I had no obligation to it, but I couldn't just do nothing. I splinted its broken leg and got it stable enough to begin the journey back to my shelter. It passed out during first aid, and I now carry it across my back. It is surprisingly light.