Page 9 of Halfling
He put the more prized items like the salve and knives at the bottom before wrestling with the extra bedroll and furs.
He’d nearly gotten it secured when a soft, hissing breath froze him in place.
“Came to look at this surprise Talon’s got.”
Slowly, as if backing away from a coiled snake ready to strike, Orek looked up.
Silas stood close by, too close. He’d crept up behind Orek silently, a mark of why he was the clan’s best tracker. He was tall, like all orcs, but he didn’t have the breadth of most. Instead, there was a ranginess to him, a lean strength Orek saw in starving wolves during long winters. Creatures that were always hungry with nothing to lose. Silas had such a gleam in his eye, like he’d swallow anything whole if it came too close.
There was that and more in his gaze as he looked at the tent flaps, his nostrils widening and contracting as he pulled in smells.Hersmell.
Orek’s lip curled in a snarl, his beast wanting to smash that hooked nose up into Silas’s brain.
As if he could sense this new, unsettling rage brewing inside Orek, Silas glanced back at him and lifted a hairless brow. A nasty little grin spread between his tusks.
“Not going to be much of a surprise,” Silas went on. He reached out a clawed hand to draw back the tent flap. Nothing but the dark interior greeted him, but he still stuck his face inside and took a long draw. “Whole camp can smell he’s got a female in here.”
“You’re just smelling the orcesses,” Orek said, playing dumb while he slowly got to his feet.
Silas made a disgusted noise in his throat. “A waste of a nose on a waste of flesh. Maybe you’re too stupid to notice, but Talon’s got a human female in there. Gonna give her to Krul.”
“Then what are you doing here?” Orek said with his best bemused frown.
Silas looked him up and down, those nostrils flaring again, and Orek willed his heart to slow and his blood to cool. He could look dumb all he wanted, but it didn’t matter with a hunter like Silas, who could smell the truth.
“Figured I’d come look at what Talon’s bought.”
“He’ll come and get it when he’s ready to give it to Krul. You’ll see it then.”
Silas closed the space between them, standing just half a head taller than Orek but using all that height and that flinty gaze to bear down on him.
“I wanted a closer look.”
“Talon told me no one in or out until he came back. I wouldn’t want to anger him. Or Krul.”
Silas’s nose wrinkled in annoyance, much like Orek saw mountain cats do when they were angry and about to strike.
He stood his ground in front of the tent, careful not to square his shoulders or frown too deeply, just enough to show Silas he was serious—even if his chest practically vibrated with the growls rumbling through him. Let him think Orek feared Talon more.
He didn’t—Talon was a brute but predictable. Avoiding him made Orek’s life much easier. Silas, though. He never knew what the tracker would do, never liked the shiftiness in his eyes and the smugness in his grin, like he was always laughing at his own joke.
But Silas didn’t need to know that. He just needed to leave.
The orc grunted before finally backing away.
He took another look at the tent.
“Maybe Krul will be in a sharing mood,” he cackled, clapping Orek’s shoulder.
He took a long, loud draw right in front of the slitted opening and sighed. The smile he gave Orek was ugly.
Orek held in his grimace as Silas finally turned away and disappeared noiselessly back into the tents.
He waited for long moments as the camp noise ebbed and crashed over him, waited for others to come, for Silas to slink back or Talon to come collect his gifts. He opened and closed his fists, needing something to do with all the agitation and aggression pulsing through him.
When nothing happened and no one came, Orek carefully picked up his bulging pack and backed into the tent.
He rushed around the supplies to the human, ready to untie her, but—
