Page 75 of That’s My Orc, Tusk Off

“She’s building a family,” I said quietly.

Krem stopped laughing. Drogar’s grin softened.

“The things she’s collected aren’t just shiny things,” I said. “They’re parts of all of us. Proof we exist. Proof we matter to her.”

The mossnibble chirped, curling around the spatula.

Drogar cleared his throat. “Tomorrow I’ll bring her something of mine that’s better than my hat. Something she can keep.”

They left the break room together, Drogar muttering about strategy while Krem mourned his spatula.

I sat and ate my lunch before returning to my desk, but I went back later, when the building had gone quiet.

The mossnibble slept, curled in the center of her nest with her tail wrapped around Krem’s spatula.

Tucked beneath Drogar’s hat, almost invisible unless you were looking for it, lay a small square of canvas no bigger than my palm. Someone had painted it with tiny brushstrokes, a single driftwhisp mid-flight, its silver tendrils trailing behind it, each feather rendered in shades of black so deep they seemed to hold light. The detail was impossible. Greth’s? I’d never seen Greth paint or even hold a brush, but every other object belonged to one of us; his was the only one missing.

And half-hidden by a cluster of sticky notes, I found Traig’s label maker. She’d taken the thing that helped him hold himself together.

I stood.

The mossnibble stirred, one teal eye opening to watch me.

I didn’t try to take anything; just left, but I located a new label maker in the supply room and after labeling it like he had, I placed it on the shelf where he’d find it.

An email was waiting when I got back to my desk.

Subject: Bloomback Adoption

My heart picked up before I even opened it.

Hi Willa and Traig,

We’ve rearranged our budget and found the perfect place inside the barn. We’d like to adopt both Rue and Fern as a bonded pair. We couldn’t separate them. When can we schedule pickup?

Best,

The Huang Family

I smiled, my eyes burning.

Rue and Fern would stay together because someone had listened and changed their mind when the evidence became impossible to ignore.

My smile faded.

Tomorrow a scribe would arrive to assess whether Traig had a bonded mate.

We’d saved Rue and Fern.

I had no idea how to save Traig.

I stood and walked to his office. The door was cracked. He sat at his desk, staring at his tablet, his finger motionless on the screen.

I knocked on the doorframe.

He looked up, and his expression cracked when he saw me. Just for a second before he smoothed it away.

“The family emailed about Rue and Fern,” I said.