Page 3 of Lonely Orcish Girl

The orcess disappeared from his sight, but quickly returned, holding a wooden cup. Involuntarily, he flinched slightly as she knelt beside his legs and partially crawled over him, leaning on one arm.

Only then did he truly realize how huge the orcish girl was. He had heard that orcs were taller and bigger than humans, but he hadn’t expected such a difference.

She wore a simple sleeveless vest and leather pants. Her upper body was broad and muscular, but her waist was slim and shapely, contrasting with her wide, round hips. She had the silhouette of an hourglass.

Her arm, now inches from Reed's head, was impressively muscled. A hardened, sculpted forearm, a well-defined bicep, and a round, strong shoulder gave the impression of a powerful warrior woman, capable of wielding a sword with ease. She wore a thick copper bracelet on her wrist, which caught Reed's attention for a brief moment.

In contrast to her muscles, her chest was very plump and ample, but Reed avoided looking at it. He had been taught that it was rude to stare at a woman's cleavage. But a single discreet glance was enough for him to realize that none of the women from his village were as generously endowed as this orcess.

She literally filled the nook where Reed lay, dominating the limited space with the sheer size of her body.

Reed had never seen such muscles on a woman in his life, although he had heard tales of orcish female warriors. Certainly, none of his neighbors were built like this girl. Reed himself was one of the tallest and strongest men in Stagmoor, especially for his age, but his body was still more lean and wiry. He hoped that, with time, he would gain more muscle like his late father, who had been one of the most robust residents of their village.

"Drink this," the girl said, holding the cup closer to his head. The contents were smoky and had a strong scent.

"What's that?" he managed to whisper in a raspy voice.

"Poison, obviously," the orcess said sarcastically, grinning and rolling her eyes. Then she explained, "Herbs. Drink. It'll help with your sore throat and fever."

Reed felt foolish for even asking—it could easily be taken as distrust.

Obediently, he tried to raise his head, but didn’t have enough strength even for that. Seeing this, the girl knelt a little closer, slipped her hand under his neck, and lifted him slightly. Then she put the cup to his lips, and he began to drink.

The brew was warm and had a pleasant taste. But most importantly, it soothed his throat. Reed felt the pain ease, at least a little.

As he drank, Reed took the opportunity to observe the orcess more closely. She seemed to be around twenty, very close to his own age. Her face showed the typical features of orcish women, with thick eyebrows, a straight nose, and a rather firm jaw, but it all seemed smoother and more harmonious than that of a typical orc, at least that’s what Reed thought. Her ears were pointy, unlike those of humans. Her curly hair looked raven black in the dim light, framing her head like a crown. The long strands were tied into multiple braids, while others were loose, adorned with shiny beads and rings of steel, bronze, and copper.

Her orcish heritage was clear, but her austere look was softened by high cheekbones, full lips that were also green but in a darker hue, and her most captivating feature—large violet eyes with thick, black eyelashes.

The girl was a beauty of her own kind, exotic and unique, and Reed thought she could even be described as stunning.

Those distinctive eyes, intense as colorful flowers from a meadow, looked at him calmly, as if assessing his condition. After she helped Reed finish the herbs, she gently laid his head back on the bed. Her hand lingered on his forehead for a moment.

"You're not burning up like before, but the fever will come back later. You need to rest," she said in a matter-of-fact tone, leaning back against the wall.

Her eyes remained fixed on his face. She smirked and asked, "So, lost boy, what do they call you?"

"Reed," he answered quietly. "And what's your name?"

"Katuri," she replied shortly, emphasizing the hard 'r'.

Reed nodded and repeated the name in his mind. It sounded very foreign to him, but there was something vibrant in it that he liked.

They looked at each other in silence—Katuri with quiet interest, Reed struggling with his emotions for a moment. Slowly, he realized what had happened the day before and the role Katuri had played in it. He felt overwhelming gratitude.

"Thank you, Katuri," he said solemnly. "You saved my life."

Her reaction was odd. At first, her eyes widened as if surprised, but then she smirked and waved her hand dismissively.

"I just dragged your limp body off my porch, right?" She laughed shortly. "Nothing overly heroic."

"Still, thank you sincerely. I'm in your debt," Reed tried again, but the only response from her was a barely perceptible nod.

It made him wonder if Katuri was embarrassed by his honest acknowledgment, but he thought she was being too modest. However, he knew next to nothing about orcish customs, apart from a few—possibly exaggerated—rumors. The only inhabitants of Stagmoor were humans, and he hadn't had much opportunity to come into contact with other races.

Reed wondered if perhaps it wasn’t customary among her people to show gratitude. From what he had heard, orcs were proud and valued strength, so he wondered if showing compassion might be seen as a weakness for them.

According to the most common rumors, orcs were aggressive, hostile, violent, treacherous, and so on—the list of their bad qualities was long. Reed realized, though, that some of these flaws could apply to any other race as well, but… not to Katuri.

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