Sorana watched First Bloom of the Snow Flower's hands as she drummed her fingers on the table; six digits on each hand, two of which were thumbs.

The slight pang of jealously rose inside her, as it had done often since first learning of the elves. Not just for the improved dexterity it seemed to give them, nor even just Sorana's almost perverse intrigue in bodies vastly different than her own. No, right now, in this meeting of the Galactic Standards Association, she simply wished that she never had to listen to squabbles about base-10 vs base-12 numbering systems.

She knew all the arguments each way; even before elvish anatomy was widely known, there'd been the arguments. Perhaps that's why it irked her so much now. Back then, it was petty bickering; an academic exercise with no purpose other than ego stroking and mental masturbation. Now, it was an actual problem; a point of contention between two major civilisations, a hindrance to communication between the two, and, most importantly, a barrier to smooth trade.

It could have been worse, she knew. The Tengu were part of the association too, and their muscled, claw-like appendages — 3 "fingers" with 3 phalanges each, and a reversed "thumb" with 2 — had resulted in an awful base-11-or-22-depending-how-you-look-at-it system. They thankfully played a minor role in these discussions, and were quickly shot down, alongside the Selkies, who seemed to use some system based on the life cycle of their primary food, some kelp-like plant.

This was the kind of shit she had been trying to escape when she gave up on her communications and diplomacy degree, jumping into the civilisation exchange program instead. It was still technically a diplomatic position — an offer only afforded to her due to her degree — but only because she was "representing humanity" and "broadening understanding and compassion between cultures", not because she was, like, doing boring diplomat shit.

First Bloom withdrew her hands from the table and moved one to cradle her chin, propping it up with an elbow on the table.

Sorana had enjoyed these past weeks regardless. She'd been paired with First Bloom from the start, and their time had been fairly evenly split between Elvish matters, which were highly interesting to Sorana and highly boring to First Bloom, and Elvish-Human matters, which were highly boring to both.

She was pretty sure First Bloom's main job however, as far as her superiors were concerned, was to babysit the human. She'd been rather cold to Sorana initially, more than could be put down to simple cultural differences, but after a week or so of forced socialisation, she seemed to warm to her.

Sorana watched as First Bloom used her outer thumb to itch at her throat. Her neck was long, even by elf standards. Her ears, too, were on the longer end of what she'd seen, the tips almost cresting the top of her head when affronted, and swinging low when relaxing at the end of the day. Most of the time, the movements were far more subtle, and Sorana had enjoyed watching them and learning to decipher the meanings. She was by no means an expert, but even in the short time she'd been here, it had become obvious just how much easier elf emotions were to read. During a couple of less-than-pure moments, she wondered how they'd respond to touch; how it might feel for them to tremble under her fingers.

First Bloom's ear twitched inquisitively, and Sorana realised she'd been staring. First Bloom had too, and caught her eye, her ear dipping slightly, and an eyebrow raised questioningly in an attempt to mimic a human expression.

Sorana looked away, unsuccessfully trying not to blush, and hoped First Bloom's understanding of her facial expressions weren't that deep yet.

She glanced around the room and realised the meeting was wrapping up, the participants breaking up into smaller conversations.

"If you do not have a thing to say," came the melodic, husky voice of First Bloom, "then our work is complete for today."

"Yeah, no, nothing," said Sorana, putting on her best blank face.

First Bloom's ears twitched asymmetrically as her lips formed into a pout, an expression that Sorana had quickly learnt was something like a confused frown.

"In that case, let us go eat."

"Yes, let's," said Sorana, subtly emphasising the contraction.

"And then, perhaps let's get a drink."

"Eh, yeah, sounds good. It's been a long day."

"It has. A long day of speaking human. After dinner, we are speaking Elvish."

"I'll do my best," said Sorana, giving her a small smile. "Lead the way."