Page 118 of That’s My Orc, Tusk Off

“The most persistent matchmaker in history.”

Nix leaped and did a small loop in the air, his stripes brightening to full yellow as he landed on the tile floor.

Show-off.

Fred floated into the room, Amanda riding on his back, her stick lifted. He bumped into the far wall, the one to the right, and then soared toward Willa’s other shoulder.

“Hey buddy,” Willa said, steadying him. “Come to hang out in the break room, have you?”

Fred’s grumble pitched lower.

Amanda’s crown flared pink to orange, then back to pink.

“Look at Amanda,” Drogar said. “She’s having a full conversation.”

“What’s she saying?” Willa asked.

Drogar tilted his head. “That you smell different. Like Traig. She approves.” His gaze swept across us both. “I was thinking I’d come by Traig’s cottage this weekend, if that’s—” He frowned. “Sorry. Willa and Traig’s cottage.”

“Yes,” I said. “Ours. And you’re welcome any time.”

His grin widened. “Good.”

The morning passed with intake calls, supply checks, and caring for various creatures. The usual tasks, yet everything felt different now. The mark on my wrist caught the light when I moved. Willa’s coffee mug sat on her desk, half-empty, and I refilled it for her twice.

Late afternoon, I walked the fenceline. My brothers and I took turns with this job, carrying a saw with us to cut down trees or branches that may have fallen on the line. This also gave us the opportunity to ensure our wild creatures were healthy, that none had been injured or gotten sick.

When I finished, I stopped at the bloomback enclosure, leaning against the fence.

Rue and Fern stood together near the end of their pen, their flowers full and vibrant. Rue’s coral pink bloomed brighter than I’d ever seen it. Fern’s deep lavender practically glowed.

Their adoptive family would collect them as soon as their barn was ready.

Rue shifted her weight. Fern’s flowers brightened, the deep lavender going almost luminous.

I’d documented their separation responses. Logged Fern’s decreased appetite. Checked everything against it with stress markers in three other species. I’d had all the data.

Willa had watched them for five minutes and known.

My tablet sat in my pocket. I didn’t pull it out. The bloombacks didn’t need documentation. They just needed each other.

The bloombacks shifted their feet, Rue’s flowers brightening further as Fern leaned into her.

I found Willa at her desk when I got back, Fred floating beside her head while she typed.

She looked up when I approached, smiled, and held out her hand.

I took it.

We didn’t need words for this part.

Her mark caught the light from her computer screen.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Liar.”