***** Author's Note *****

Now Available! Read up to Chapter 71 on my discord! Link in my bio!

69

It seemed that Zathra was an incorrigibly optimistic orc, even in the dourest of moments; a quirk that Alaesia couldn't quite make sense of. If he cared that she could barely stand to be in his company, he didn't seem to let it bother him. Whatever haunted her, if he was still reading her mind at all, didn't seem to get under his skin as much as it did hers. He chattered away as he took the lead into the underbrush beyond the clearing, "Woulda been nice of Bar, if 'e had let us know where tha' stream was, eh?"

Before they had left, he had asked Alaesia to give him a moment to give Ar-Tashk's still form a once-over, just to ensure his magic was holding the olog to slumber, snagged one of Ar-Tashk's bolts for protection, and made a quick jaunt into the dark of the warg den. When he had come back out, he hauled back up with him a rough pair of skins from the warg carcasses left by the olog. Apparently, he had done his best over the course of the night, with only one hand and little in the way of tools, to try to clean and prep them, but they had turned out pretty shoddy for his troubles: riddled with holes from makeshift slate blades and incomplete fleshing. After spreading warm ashes on the internal surfaces to help dry the skins faster, the pair had set out to seek the stream.

"I-I don't think he was really concerned with c-cleanliness," Alaesia quipped back, swatting away a bug that tried to land on her nose. She ducked under a branch as Zathra lifted it for her. A leaf drifted down on her head, making her nearly jump in fright. She grit her teeth in frustration at the simple fact she couldn't help but startle so easily; even something so small and harmless had her on edge, especially where the orc was involved. It seemed, the easiest way to keep her mind from running away with her imagination and to stay in control of her emotions around Zathra, was if she distracted herself with trivial conversation, "And I-I don't understand why you are e-either. N-never seen orcs worrying about hygiene..."

"Heh, wouldn't ya believe it, I 'ave a strict regiment of washin' ta keep my face this pretty. Once a month at least!" Zathra chuckled while he brushed the leaf off her head, only earning himself a withering look from the woman, "Other than the wargs, which yer Reaper fella was so kind as ta deal with, I doubt there's any other big predators in this territory or on yer tail, other than yer olog o' course. But better safe than sorry when yer blood would make a fer a delicacy ta any beasts hereabouts. I only have so many hands ta lose ta whatever creatures that scent might attract after all!" He wiggled his remaining fingers at her teasingly.

Even as he spoke of the wargs' territory, presumably now cleared of its most immediate threats, the orc wasn't entirely sure if his speculation was accurate. Something about the forest was making his skin crawl and the hair on the nape of his neck rise, but at the same time, it felt like it was drawing him in; as though something was calling to him some sort of silent beacon, a moth to a flame. Zathra was starting to get the faintest hint of Mokob-hai in the air, which may have been the cause of his unease; he wasn't entirely sure. But he kept it to himself. The human woman didn't need anything else to fret over. She was flighty enough already.

Alaesia dropped her eyes to her feet, half to focus on where she was traversing the rough terrain and half to avoid Zathra's eyes. For so long she had been aware of how orcs and other creatures could detect the blood of her injuries, but at the same time, she had neglected to fully consider what that meant from the opposing perspective; how it must come across from Zathra's, Ar-Tashk's, or even Barbaurak's perspectives, "D-does it bother you? The scent of m-my blood?"

"What're ya implying there, girlie? Tha' I'm a beast?" She couldn't help but note the tone of his voice sharpened at the query, but he responded with an amused smirk, feigning indignity, "Don't answer that... But nah, that ain't nothin' I can't handle. But other beasts might no' be so generous. I'm guessing since ya haven't been gobbled up yer that yer olog ain't intending to eat ya either, at least if nothin' sets 'im off."

"I-Is that why you told me not t-to never run? It could set him off?" She had to stop short to avoid running into Zathra's back as he paused suddenly to sniff at the air. "Ah... S-sorry..."

"I suppose... Yeah, tha's part o' the reason. Being small, weak, and injured makes ya easy prey, but as long as ya stand yer ground, ya still might have a chance if ya fight back or bluffin' yerself outta trouble, even if yer being hunted. The moment ya turn tail an' run, yer dead," His ears were pricked and sharp, taking in the forest around them, and trying to pick out the sound of water running through the quiet murmurs of leaves shifting in the breeze. Despite juggling the conversation well enough, he seemed distracted by something. "Once a chase starts, it's 'ard ta resist, ta stop, until ya've got yer teeth and claws in yer prey, blood on yer tongue, an' meat in yer belly..."

"It sounds like you speak from experience," Alaesia murmured cautiously. She had always believed orcs to be monsters, but there was also a naïve belief she had always had trouble shaking ever since she was a child, that they were once people, corrupted and transformed by Mordor's evil. Observing Zathra now, like watching a hunting hound, in a way she had never paid close enough attention to other orcs, it really seemed his kind were a class of their own, born and bred as they were, never before human nor beast, but perhaps somewhere in between.

It took moment, but he seemed to find the right direction once more, and pressed onward, while Alaesia tailed him from behind. Zathra took his time, which enable Alaesia to keep up with him, and welcomed her to use his hand to clamber around the foliage, though she avoided taking it as much as she could, which didn't go unnoticed by the orc.

Zathra frowned inwardly, "Aye. I'm not gonna pretend there's honey in a fly nest. My kind are hunters. We need meat. Tark, rabbit, caragor... doesn't often matter where it comes from. Some of us will even eat other orcs fer hellfire's sake..."

It was hard to remember if such brutal realities had ever bothered him in the past. He wasn't sure if it even bothered him now either. More than anything, it bothered him that the question even arose in the back of his mind. This darn human and her troublesome mind, with its labyrinthian depth, were irksome in her own way. He never really had to deal with such introspective thoughts before, for when under his mental influence, previous captives couldn't retreat to mental sanctity; he had only scratched the surfaces of their psyches.

He huffed and let out a strained sigh, "I have eaten yer kind before an' I can't really say whether or not I will again either. Maybe that means I'll never be anythin' but a monster in yer eyes, but I promise yer safe around me."

"J-Just don't run from you, right?" Alaesia's retort was quick, as though that jab had been on the tip of her tongue for a while. Even her own eyes widened in surprise that it slipped out. Maybe there was some sort of relief to be had in Zathra's bluntness that loosened her tongue. Horrendous as it was, he wasn't hiding behind his usual his facade, and in a twisted way, it made Alaesia feel more assured. There was no pretense, no niceties, he very well could eat her if he wanted to, but it only made his promise sound all the more sincere.

"Ooh, yer a cheeky one!" Zathra snorted and made a sour face at her in return. "Where's that attitude been hidin' this whole time?"

"Getting under B-Barbaurak's skin apparently," Her tone turned dry; she didn't quite understand why it was so easy to slip into a brazen attitude around Zathra. Perhaps his snark and wit made it easier to drop her guard, but still, she didn't want to push him too far, in case she would find where his limit was. "He didn't f-find it amusing when I-I threatened to feed him t-to the wargs."

"Ha!" The orc let out a short bark of laughter. "I'll bet ya did! Ye've got a lot more nip than ya let on, lass! Ya shoulda gone through with it. Woulda taught that stone-faced bastard a good lesson! I use ta think the only thing that'd get through Bar's thick skull was a good bite from a warg or caragor!"

"S-Speaking of wargs..." Alaesia pivoted, not eager to further discuss Zathra's leader, nor delve any deeper into the machinations of his murderous mind, nor admit how tempted she had been to carry out her own misdeeds, "Y-you said something last night a-about seeing through a warg's eyes. What did you m-mean?"

"Ah there it is!" Zathra had paused once more to glance over some bushes, then reeled back when he saw the glint of light coming off the surface of some water. He surveyed the area quickly, just to ensure nothing dangerous might pop out, then waved Alaesia over so he could answer. He didn't seem too bothered by her sudden change in topic, which came as a relief, "Ya go ahead and wash up, I'll keep watch... Anyways... uh... Good question. I'm really not sure how ta describe it, seein' through a warg's eyes I mean. That big gray beast, that ate me arm? It was like I was in 'is 'ead. Felt kinda like a dream, but not at the same time. I couldn't control my... er well... the warg's body without givin' it a spark. Got a nice lil tour around the woods, courtesy of... tha' beast..."

Zathra paused and looked down, suddenly very aware that he was already familiar with this stream. If Alaesia responded, it passed through one ear and out the other.

Though he had never himself been here before, it was the same stream he had seen in his vision through the warg's eyes. On the other side of the stream, there was an unmistakable, huge paw print, stale, but pressed into the drying mud near the water's edge. Just beyond that, an inky black stain was hidden among tousled leaf litter and in the center of the familiar stain was a pile of partially digested chunks of meat, bone, and... armor remnants.

There was no doubt now seeing the pile of vomit and blood; what he had witnessed, in his dream from the point of view of the warg, wasn't just a dream. He had seen the great gray beast purge its own stomach, expelling portions of his limb. How long ago that vision took place, he couldn't begin to guess, but perhaps that meant that warg was still in the area.

His remaining hand tightened on the ballista bolt, readying it like a spear, as he shifted it and glanced around warily. The orc edged closer to Alaesia as she crouched down to scrub at her hands in the water, unaware of the alarm rising in Zathra's head for he kept silent at the observation.

While she was oblivious to his worries, Alaesia was at odds with her nerves in Zathra's presence; it was hard to fret about decency, knowing he had likely seen everything there was to see, both after Ar-Tashk snapped her belt and from spying into her mind. At this point, she couldn't bring herself to care, finally just relenting to the welcoming tug of the current.

Though it wasn't deep, the stream soothed and calmed, particularly any lingering singe of her burn scars. The cool water was refreshing as it pulled Barbaurak's black orc blood from her skin. It was such a relief, she couldn't help but lower her legs in as well, feeling the layers of dirt and grime being swept away with the current. She didn't even care that she started to go deeper into the water to the point even her tunic was soaked through. The fabric was terribly foul after everything she had gotten into, so even a rinse was a welcome cleansing.

When she felt sufficiently cleaned, Zathra once more offered her a hand to help her clamber up the embankment, noting that she finally took it without her usual look of aversion crossing her face. If he weren't so distracted by the pulling sensation he was feeling in his chest, he might have taken a moment to appreciate that she didn't balk away at the offer of assistance, but the whispering among the trees was growing louder in his ears; that unease was a far more pressing matter. He didn't want to linger here any longer than necessary, at least for now.

The orc pressed the ballista bolt into Alaesia's hands, hurried to douse himself in the stream, then started to lead the way back to the clearing.

***** Translations *****

Mokob-hai - Orcsbane (plant)

Tark - Human