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My heart lurched. She did not want me to share my furs with other females. That was a very positive sign that maybe she was thinking of wanting me for herself.

Bwat: I am sleeping with no females, and will never sink my hand-axe into a random female. The team owner provided us each with a box of the no-baby sheaths. Most of us threw them away, but Pfton carries his with him from hotel to hotel in hopes that the box will bring him luck and cause a female to join him in his furs.

Abby: Has it worked?

Bwat: No, but he still hopes. Last night he slept with one on for additional luck.

Abby: Ewwww. The visual…. TMI.

Before I could decipher what she’d said, Abby informed me that she needed to get to work, and told me to “carry on.”

The next few days went by in a blur of hotel rooms, losing hockey games, and long bus rides. I made sure to post on both TikTok and Instagram several times each day, although sometimes I was so exhausted that my Instagram posts were just a duplicate of what I’d used on the other site. In Dallas I’d noticed more humans than usual were taking pictures and videos of us. In Florida, that number tripled. Suddenly I felt as if we were celebrities. Some humans even knew my name and wanted pictures with me, asking when I’d be replying to the latest video Dylan Emmet had posted.

We’d been going back and forth with our insults. This morning before our team run, I’d posted a video of myself next to the hotel coffee machine.

“While I am flattered you compared my arms to a tree-trunk, they are more a twig. Unlike other parts of my body which can be compared to a tree trunk. How is your skull so fragile that a twig almost destroyed your brain?”

That first bathroom video in my underwear where I’d insulted Dylan had garnered a lot of attention. Each video since then had seemed to continue that growth until I lost track of the number of shares, duets, reactions, and followers I’d received. I couldn’t keep up with the volume of comments and my lack of ability to reply to them all made me feel guilty.

Abby: You do understand that people are shipping you and Dylan, right?

Bwat: Where are they shipping us to? Are the Blackhawks going to be in Tampa with us tonight?

Abby: I mean they think there is a romance going on between you and Dylan Emmet. Swamp Woman is gonna get jealous.

I loved Abby with all my heart, but she was the most difficult human to understand.

Bwat: I am supposed to insult him and he is insulting me back. That is not a romance, it is how I am going viral. Is he misunderstanding my intentions?

Abby: It’s okay, Bwat. I’m just teasing you. The guy is married, and I know your heart belongs to Swamp Woman. People are going to ship. There’s Dramione, Castiel and Dean, and now Bwat and Dylan. Bylan? Dwat? I’m not sure what I should be calling this.

I stared at the phone in alarm.

Bwat: You should not be calling it anything. I am in love with someone else, not Dylan Emmet. Although he is a very good-looking male. If I were not in love, and if he did not have such a fragile skull, I’m sure he would make a good bride. Or groom.

Why did humans have different words for what was essentially the same thing? Marriage partner. Kruelnert. One word. Not this bride or groom nonsense that depended on gender.

Again there was a long moment of appearing and vanishing dots on my phone screen.

Abby: I hadn’t realized you had fallen in love with someone. It’s swamp-girl, right? I wish you both the best.

I might be an idiot about the subtleties of human culture, but I felt the chill from Abby’s text through the phone. And who was this swamp-girl she kept accusing me of courting?

Now it was me typing and deleting my text, no doubt causing those anxiety-inducing dots on her phone this time.

Bwat: I should not have told you that. The woman who has caught my attention does not know. She may not feel the same way. And these feelings cannot be called love if only one person experiences them.

Abby: Very wise. I hope this lady returns your affection, but if not, I’m sure you’ll fall in love with another.

Possibly, but I doubted it would happen for a very long time. Orcs did not give their hearts lightly, and recovery from a failed romance was slow and painful. I didn’t even want to contemplate how much I would suffer if Abby refused my courtship. The fear that she would turn me away paralyzed me, kept me from doing more than keeping our conversations and texts strictly friendly.

Maybe I needed to try crossing that line just a little. But not via text.

Bwat: I’m going to call you.

She picked up immediately and I didn’t hesitate.

“Have you ever been in love?” I asked.