6. Brovish
CHAPTER SIX
brOVISH
Laina’s laughter faded, though her eyes still gleamed. “What should I do next? Who’s in need of a veterinarian?”
“Could you examine Abagail? She’s a snugglethorn, and I feel like there’s something wrong.”
“Lead the way.”
We walked outside.
“Abagail arrived a few months ago from the orc kingdom,” I said as I led her along the enclosures to one near the end. “She was found beside a road, and no one came forward to claim her. But it was clear she’d been someone’s pet. We couldn’t release her into the wild. Something is wrong with her.”
“Let’s see if we can figure it out.”
Abagail lay in her enclosure, her body pressed against the far wall.
I opened the gate and stepped inside. Laina followed.
The snugglethorn turned her head our way, her single forehead horn jutting toward us.
Before we reached her, she turned away, lowering her head to the ground.
“Is this normal for her?” Laina asked.
“She’s usually more active.”
“When did the change start?”
“A few days ago.” I crouched beside Abagail and ran my hand over her soft, dense wool. “She’s eating less. Resting more.”
“Has she been around others of her kind recently? She may have caught something from one of them.”
“I’ll check with Drogar. He handled her intake.”
I shifted closer to Abagail’s head and rested my hand on her neck, behind her horn where the wool was thickest. She leaned into my hand, releasing a soft chuff.
“She trusts you,” Laina said.
“She knows I won’t hurt her.” I kept my hand steady, my voice low. “She didn’t know that when she first arrived, but I’ve been patient with her.”
Laina knelt beside me and rested her hand on Abagail’s side.
“Hey, there,” she said quietly. “We’re going to take good care of you.”
Abagail made a low sound, somewhere between a hum and a sigh.
I pulled out my notebook and, after studying her feed bin, wrote: Abagail. Quieter today. Eating 15% less than baseline. Resting more than usual. Watching.
Laina studied Abagail’s mouth. “Good capillary refill, which means she’s not dehydrated.”
“All of our animals have access to plenty of clean water.”
She listened to Abagail’s heart and lungs and ran her hands along the snugglethorn’s body.
When she’d finished, she stood. “I don’t see anything unusual, though I’ll need to read up on snugglethorns tonight to be sure.
She could just be tired. Let’s monitor her closely. Let me know if there are any changes.”
“I will.”
We left the enclosure, and I glanced back once. Abagail had closed her eyes.
I paused near the gate and made another note. Laina rested her hand on Abagail’s wool. Spoke to her softly. Abagail responded.
It wasn’t clinical data. But it felt important anyway.
“It’s almost time for lunch.”
“Wow, already?”
“Are you hungry? Krem cooked.”
She tilted her head, gazing up at me. “Does Krem know how to cook?”
I shrugged. “Some of us are better at cooking than others.”
“How does Krem rank among you?”
“About the middle.”
“The middle of five of you is better than the bottom.”
“That would be Greth. He thinks he’s a good cook, but he’s the only one who can tolerate what he makes.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
“Of course.”
We went inside and had lunch in the communal kitchen.
The six of us gathered around the table. Laina sat between Krem and me, her plate full of food.
“This is excellent,” she said after her first bite.
Krem beamed. “It’s a kingdom recipe.”
Traig didn’t look up from his tablet. “It’ll satisfy our hunger.”
Laina shook her head. “You’re underestimating him. It’s amazing.”
Traig made a note on his tablet before taking another bite, closing his eyes as he swallowed. “Alright, it’s…decent.”
Laina smiled. “You’re a tough critic.”
I grinned along with her.
Drogar leaned back in his chair. “Brovish has smiled eight times today. I counted.”
I nudged his side. “I smile.”
“Not like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like you mean it,” Krem said. “It’s the kind of smile where your tusks show.”
“Our tusks always show,” I said.
Greth grunted. “Laina is good for him.”
“Right here, guys,” Laina said, though I could tell she wasn’t irritated. Fortunately, she appeared to be enjoying their teasing.
Krem rose and gave her a formal bow. “We all apologize, don’t we?”
All of us nodded.
“Still, that’s a lot of smiling from our Brovish,” Krem said, sitting back down. “I think he…is suddenly very happy.”
“Cooper is doing well,” I said. “That’s why I’m happy.”
Drogar’s gaze fell on Laina who was, thankfully, focused on her meal. “There’s no other reason?”
“What other reason could there be?”
Drogar looked from me to Laina—who noticed.
Heat flooded my ears. My tusks felt too prominent, too visible. Laina sat close enough that I could smell the soap she used, and I was aware of my size in a way I hadn’t been since my first month on the surface. I was too big, too obvious, too much.
I should leave. I should stay. My body couldn’t decide which and locked in place.
Laina glanced at me, her mouth twitching. “You have a nice smile.”
“I do?” I half-barked, my ears now piping hot.
My friends exchanged looks.
Drogar’s grin widened. “Yes, his smile is nice. That’s the word for it.”
Traig looked up from his tablet. “Leave him alone.”
“Why? This is the most interesting thing that’s happened since we decided to build this place.”
Laina took another bite of her food, her shoulders shaking.
I focused on my plate and tried to ignore the fact that everyone in this room could see exactly what I’d been trying not to notice.
After lunch, Laina examined a series of creatures in need of her care. I watched for a bit but then had to get to work myself.
It was only late in the day that I found her again.
“I’ll be leaving soon,” she said. “Are there any more creatures in need of a vet?”
“If you completed Traig’s list, then no.”
“That’s good.” She swiped her hand across her brow. “I want to keep busy, but it’s nice that there aren’t any others with injuries or sickness.”
“Let’s walk,” I said, nudging my head toward the back door.
We went outside and strolled past the enclosures, stopping beside the pen holding our driftwhisp population, a large netted space filled with floating plants emitting soft light in blues and greens.
Seven driftwhisps lived here, their black feathers and silver tendrils catching the glow as they flew through the air.
“They’re beautiful,” Laina said. “I’ve never seen anything like them except, perhaps butterflies.”
“These are a kind of bird. They have hollow bones.”
“So not a butterfly.”
“Not quite, though I can see the resemblance.” I pointed. “Steven is my favorite. He’s been here longest, and he always comes to me first during feeding times.”
I stepped inside and held out my hand.
Steven flew straight past me, landing on Laina’s outstretched palm.
I stood there with my hand still extended, empty, while Steven settled onto her palm like he’d been waiting for her all along.
He hadn’t done that with anyone else in the time he’d been here.
Laina laughed, lifting her palm to smile at the creature. “Well, hello there, little one.”
The driftwhisp nuzzled her fingers.
Sofia gave the driftwhisp what I’d swear was a sour look.
“What do I do with him?” Laina asked, looking up at me through her incredibly long eyelashes.
“Let him settle first,” I said. “Then stroke his head. He likes that.”
She did, and Steven’s tendrils brightened, glowing silver.
“Is this okay?” she asked softly.
I nodded. “He has good taste.”
She smiled at Steven, not at me.
Steven picked his way up to her wrist, climbed her arm, and paused on her opposite shoulder, scowling at Sofia, who scowled right back. The driftwhisp took flight and landed on the top of Laina’s head.
“Oh.” Her eyes widened, and her hands fluttered at her sides.
Steven settled above her left ear like an adornment, clinging to her hair.
Laina stilled. “He’s in my hair.”
“Yes.”
“Is this normal?”
“No.”
Steven threaded his silver tendrils carefully through her dark strands, weaving them in. “I’ve never seen one of them do this before, though I’ve heard it can happen.”
“What’s he doing?”
“I think he’s decorating you.”
“He’s decorating my hair with…himself?”
Steven filtered silver light through Laina’s strands and went still.
“The tendrils,” I said. “He’s treating your hair like an enclosure. Sometimes they cling to the mesh.”
“I’m a habitat.”
“An honored one. Driftwhisps track emotional resonance. If Steven has chosen your hair specifically, he must wish to soak in your emotions. You’re happy.”
“I am.” Her soft laugh rang out. “Even more so with a driftwhisp adorning my hair.”
Sofia glared up at Steven, her small wings pressed flat against her body.
“I think your emberkit disapproves,” Laina said.
“Sofia considers herself the most interesting creature in any room. Steven has just installed himself somewhere she can’t follow.”
Sofia flicked her tail, making her feelings on the matter clear.
“When will Steven leave?” Laina asked.
“When you approach the enclosure door, he’ll return to the others. Driftwhisps don’t stray far from their own.”
She glanced toward the remaining driftwhisps, who were soaring among the floating plants, all but four of them, who kept darting toward Laina before flying back to the others.
“They’re looking at me,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Should I be worried?”
I considered this with the honesty it deserved. “Probably not.”
Another pause. “That’s not a no.”
“No,” I said. “It isn’t.”
Steven had chosen her too.
All of them were choosing her.
I didn’t know what to do with that except write it down later.
We stepped outside, and as I’d predicted, Steven left her hair and joined his friends inside the enclosure. I shut the door and walked with Laina out to the front of the building.
After I’d pried Sofia off Laina’s shoulder, she drove away in her truck.
As it started to get dark, the facility emptied.
Traig left first, muttering about supply orders.
Drogar followed, heading out to check the perimeter fence.
Krem stayed late to finish adoption paperwork, and Greth disappeared to his cottage on the end of the row near mine.
We’d built them after the facility, all of us choosing to live close by in case any of the creatures needed us.
I sat at my desk in my office, my notebook open in front of me.
Cooper’s page had five entries now, all positive. I flipped to a blank page and wrote Abagail’s name at the top.
Still quiet. Eating reduced. Resting more than usual. Laina asked good questions and gave Abagail a thorough examination. She doesn’t seem concerned. Will monitor closely.
I closed the notebook and strolled through the facility. I should go home to my cottage. Have dinner. But I couldn’t bear to leave.
Her mug sat on the counter where she’d left it in the kitchen. The chip on the handle caught the light.
I picked it up and traced the chip with my thumb.
She’d chosen to keep a damaged thing. Humans did this sometimes. I hadn’t learned why.
I filled the sink with warm water, added soap, and washed the mug slowly, taking care not to drop it.
When it was clean, I dried it and placed it on her desk.
Would she realize someone had washed it for her?
Sofia had curled into a ball on Laina’s desk, exactly where Laina’s bag had rested.
“She’s gone home, Sofia,” I said. “She’ll be back in a few days.” She’d be on call during the weekend, but if we didn’t need her, we wouldn’t see her until Monday.
The emberkit peeped but didn’t move.
I lifted her. She warmed my palms, her small body radiating heat.
I locked the building and carried her to my cottage, setting her on her perch inside my living area.
Sofia peeped, soft and mournful.
I turned off the light and stood in the dark, waiting for my eyes to adjust. The cottage was silent except for the sound of Sofia’s breathing and my own.
On Monday, Laina would walk through the door again. She’d examine our injured creatures and check on Abagail and Cooper.
Sofia would fly to her. Steven might too.
And I would watch it happen, the same way I’d watched it today, feeling something I had no surface word for.
The word might be longing.