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The orcs stay away from the lakes because they recognize it for what it is. A dangerous, living thing that is capable of destruction.
“Which is great for me, because I get this place to myself.”
I start to strip in the clearing, reveling in the feel of the soft sunlight against my skin. When I am completely naked, I head to the edge of the water and start to bathe.
I brought along some aloe soap that I made several weeks ago, and now I use the medicinal, cleansing soap to clean off.
I look over at Safira, who is drinking thirstily several feet away from where I am bathing.
There is blood in her fur and around her muzzle. And I notice that the two young males are covered in streaks of blood, too.
“Did you really take on a bear this time of the morning?” I wonder aloud as I rinse off my skin, which is slightly dry.
I’ll have to make a soothing cream. The cold morning weather is very good at stripping moisture from the skin.
“That’s almost cruel. The poor thing probably wasn’t even awake yet.”
Safira doesn’t bark in response as she always does. Instead, she arches her back and howls before taking off. The other wolves follow her.
The smell of blood wafts into the air, and I hurry to follow them, still naked.
My clothes can wait.
Maybe it is an enemy, coming to confront the humans in the nearby camp.
The blood smells more toxic the closer I get to it. As though the owner of the blood has swallowed the poisonous yew berries that grow in wild abundance close to the lakes.
I come to a stop with the wolves, and I see something that I did not expect at all.
An orc.
A wounded orc, with festering, infected wounds.
“Healing slowed down by the poison, no doubt,” I murmur to myself as I look him over.
At first, I think the orc is dead. It is only when Safira, who wants to attack, places a paw on his throat that I notice that he is breathing.
“Shoo.” I push her gently aside so that I can properly examine the beast. “Give me some space,” I snap at the wolves, who snort with disgust.
The orc is clearly fighting to hold onto what little life he has left, but it looks like a very close fight.
He groans when I touch him, and I jump backward at the sound.
“Okay, you’re alert for someone who belongs in a grave.” I don’t bother keeping my voice low.
I don’t particularly care if he can hear me or not.
His breathing grows more shallow as I watch him and decide what I should do.
The wolves are ready to attack and paw angrily at the ground. They’re angry that I’m not letting them eat the beast.
“He’s not prey,” I say as I stand up.
Orcs are troublemakers. Just leave him to die. There is nothing you can do for him, anyway. He’s lost too much blood.
The truth is, an orc will just bring trouble for myself and my pack. And I cannot afford trouble now. But before I can leave, a hand has snaked around my ankle and is gripping with surprising strength.
I look down at the orc, whose eyes are fluttering as he holds onto me.
