Page 39 of Marked By Feral Monsters
She looked sad, which made little sense. I'd seen her only hours earlier. She was so sweet and fun and carefree. But out there, curled up in her furs, she looked out of place. Uncomfortable and disconnected, and I tried to think back to our conversation that afternoon, if she ever mentioned her place amongst her people. Was she cast out? Was that why she slept alone?
She said she felt safe.
But did she say she felt happy?
I would have gone to her then, but there were too many patrollers. I'd have to wait until she left again, and find her on the trails.
But as the night passed, I began to wonder if I was the disillusioned one. She left me after all. Didn't ask to meet again. She had fun with an orc and returned home, satisfied, but in no need of more.
I watched her sleep, my eyes intermittently following the patrollers who stalked the perimeter of their village.
My Eden has more sense than those humans who walk around with their crude pointy sticks, stabbing at the dark at the slightest provocation. A noisy rabbit would scare most of those men.
And she has more sense than the elders who claim to have deep knowledge and understanding of the forest that they occupy.
They do not understand the forest or the creatures they share space with. They do not understand theysharespace, or the intricate web that connects us.
These humans are useless. But not my Eden. She is different. She understands.
But she isn't really mine, is she? She made her choice. And she barely knows me. Even if I were not an orc, she would have to be out of her mind to choose a lonelier life with an orc, far from her people, higher up the mountains. Away from all these comforts they've built. Their massive fires, long log-seats, thick leather tents and big, human gatherings. Their maps and bows and arrows and spears, and fancy clothes.
She would lose all of that if she came home with me.
Indecision yanked me back and forth. To stay or to leave. To take a chance on Eden, or to let her go.
The next day, into the night, I steered clear of patrollers, but there were a few close calls. It is difficult to hide my tracks. So, after another evening watching Eden sleep, two days after she'd last left her village, and met me at the waterfall, I decided to walk home.
To my cave.
To my small fire. To my big, empty bed. To my hot springs and simple, quiet life.
And I thought of Eden.
Days passed, and I couldn't stop thinking of her. I visited with other orcs, who couldn't believe I'd grown fond of a human. Their company did nothing to ease my stress, so I left them and returned to my cave alone. They didn't understand how special she was.
I kept picturing her all alone, surrounded by people who didn't appreciate her.
I know what she chose, and that wasn't me. But perhaps I should see if she is okay. Just check in on her, to see her one more time.
I wavered in the decision for a few more days.
But I couldn't stop picturing her face as I had seen it last, alone under the stars. The downturn of her pretty lips. The sparkle snuffed from her eyes.
Finally, early one morning, I woke up, determined.
It would not hurt just to see, and maybe, if I could get close enough, to ask. Just once, just one more time, if there was a way we could meet, even occasionally, by the waterfall. A way we could be together, even sometimes.
It would not have to be for sexual relations. I enjoyed her company. I liked how small and sweet she was, hearing her thoughts and seeing the wonder in her eyes as she took in all the forest creatures around us. How she squealed with delight when I held her and dove beneath the waterfall and how she loved how high up she felt in my arms—she said she felt like she was flying.
It would be too much, too soon—too absurd—to expect her to leave with me, to ask if she could be mine. But perhaps after a week apart, if she still had a down-turned smile and all the light, effervescent joy was missing from her eyes, she might agree to see me on occasion.
And that would be enough for me. It would have to be.
Approaching her village with caution, I decide to wait until dark to see if she still sleeps alone along the northern border. I could throw berries at her to get her attention. I chuckle to myself, thinking of her reaction. She'd squeal and tease me back.
I'm so focused on Eden, thinking of seeing her again later tonight, that I don't notice the patrollers are on me until it's too late.
"Halt, orc!" one guard shouts. The wordorcreverberates through the patrol, each man picking up and shouting the word to the next, until they are all on alert. I'm surrounded in minutes, and have no chance to hide.
