Brovish
CHAPTER NINE
Iwoke to quiet.
No soft trill from the foot of the bed. No small warm weight launching herself at my shoulder the second I sat up.
Sofia had slept at Laina’s.
For the first time, my shoulder was empty when I stood, but it didn’t feel like something was missing.
It felt like watching a creature I’d kept safe find its true home.
My emberkit was building a nest elsewhere, and a part of me was building something beside her, something I didn’t yet have kingdom- or surface-words for.
I went through my morning on habit. Stove on. Kettle filled. I took two mugs down from the shelf before the water boiled, set two spoons beside them, and only realized what I’d done when I reached for the tea tin.
I looked at the extra mug a long time, but I didn’t put it back.
The league yard was cool and bright, the kind of morning where the pines smelled sharp and clean. I crossed to the main building and stepped inside.
Traig had already stripped the supply room bare and turned the contents into a maze of labeled piles. He stood in the middle of it with his tablet, his jaw tight, and his hair tied back.
Drogar was moving boxes from the pile labeled animal treats to the one labeled liquids for dehydration because, as he explained without stopping to take a breath, “Sometimes the dehydrated creatures will perk up if they have a treat.”
“You’re not helping,” Traig said, not looking up.
“I’m increasing efficiency by combining categories that are friends.”
“Treats and liquids are not friends.”
“They could be.”
“Please stop touching things.”
I stepped over a stack of pre-cut bandanas we put on the creatures when they went to their new homes. “Morning.”
“What’s good about it?”
“Traig got a letter from his parents,” Drogar said in a somber tone.
I’d grown up in a jumble of a home with seven brothers. Though it was chaotic all the time, our parents adored us.
Traig grew up an only orcling. His parents had not adored him.
We became brothers when we built this rescue, because we not only rescued creatures from the orc kingdom, but we’d also rescued each other.
“Did you burn it?” I asked.
Traig’s eyes flicked toward my shoulder. “Where’s the emberkit?”
“With Laina.”
I’d speak to him about it later, when Drogar wasn’t around.
“We’ll need to expand the human-scale adjustments sooner. Additional fire safe vents in her office, a second low sink in the bay, and door levers instead of knobs for when her hands are occupied. Also a perch installed that doesn’t block the return air.”
Drogar abandoned his box in the doorway and held up a ratty paperback novel with a human couple on the cover, the woman wearing very little clothing, the male even less.
Drogar adored them. “I have some questions about human courtship. Acts of kindness for your intended seem to be quite common. Jewelry. Flowers. Or doing something nice for her that’s more subtle.
” His frown grew. “You could hunt for her.”
“For Laina?”
“Unless there’s another woman you prefer to hunt for. Or a male.”
“I hadn’t considered hunting for anyone yet.”
Though I had wondered what gift I could give Laina in a subtle way. I’d given her tea. Did that count?
“Do humans like when you bring the finest kill?” He waved the book in my face.
“In this guide, the male gifts the woman with something he made with his own hands. His…burly hands, per her words. I can assist with a gift giving or a hunt. Your choice. There is a fat grouse who mocks me near the west fence. I could end him for you, but you could say you did it if you want her to believe you did this for her.”
“I’m not going to give Laina a fat grouse, dead or alive.”
His frown deepened. “Then we’ll find a gift you can give her instead.”
Traig didn’t look up from his task. “No male brings a woman a dead grouse.”
Drogar frowned. “What then? A big rock? From what I saw on the computer spider web, humans love rocks.” His frown deepened. “Sparkly ones, though. Diamonds. Rubies. If you pick the rock, I can carve her name into it with my tusks.”
Traig grunted. “You’re not carving anything with your tusks.”
“I’m fairly good with that. It’s a true skill. I can also obtain one perfect traffic cone if a latchmaw has not imprinted on it.”
“Stop talking,” Traig growled.
I set a box of assorted grooming supplies back on a shelf and tried to make my voice even. “No kills. No traffic cones.”
Drogar went very still. “You’re sure? They’re wonderfully bright, like Sofia.”
Traig’s mouth shifted upward before smoothing. “Maybe you should give Sofia a traffic cone.”
“I don’t wish to court Sofia.” Drogar scratched the side of his neck. “Brovish should give her a boulder even if it’s not carved by my tusks.”
“Drogar.”
“A small one,” he said, grinning. “Humans find strange objects like this pleasing.” He waved the book around again. “My research shows this truth clearly.”
Traig cocked his head. “Are you sure about that?”
“I am.”
Traig grunted, clearly not convinced. And neither was I.
I left them to put everything away and walked out to the entryway.
Krem had turned the area into a flower shop. He stood behind the counter arranging three jars of wildflowers based on size and color. A thick binder sat open beside him, tabbed and color coded.
“Drogar said that humans appreciate welcoming environments,” he said when he noticed me.
“So I’ve made improvements.” He slid a jar three inches right, stepped back to study it, then slid it back where it was.
“He’s been researching human bonding ceremonies.
Educational. I overheard him and decided to do a few things here. I would never overstep.”
“Krem.”
He looked down at the binder, then up at me. “I got excited.”
Before I could answer, the door opened.
Sofia shot through the entryway and smashed into my chest. She climbed my shirt and squatted on my shoulder, her spiked tail curled around the back of my neck. Her excited peep rang out.
Laina shut the outside door and smiled my way.
“She missed you,” she said. “I think she should stay with you tonight. We can co-parent.”
“The emberkit is your…orcling?” Krem asked, his mouth half-ajar.
“It’s a common thing, even with pets,” Laina said, her attention on me. “We can share her.”
“I’d like that,” I said. “I missed her. But it’s up to Sofia to decide.”
Sofia rubbed her cheek against my jaw, then reached one soft paw toward Laina, patting the air, trying to touch both of us at once.
I wasn’t losing Sofia to Laina; we were becoming something bigger together.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Good morning.”
She wore only a shirt today, no jacket, and she’d left her hair down. Four driftwhisps decorated her hair already, their silver tendrils fanning out among her dark strands, glowing in the morning light.
I’d have to fix that hole in their enclosure again.
Drogar strode into the entryway, but he came to a quick stop, staring at Laina.
Krem dropped his clipboard and it clattered on the floor.
Traig came out to investigate the noise, shaking his head.
“They found me the moment I stepped out of my truck,” Laina said. “Steven first. The others once he’d established that I wasn’t going to dislodge him.”
“Four,” Krem said with awe. “That’s…many.”
Drogar circled Laina slowly, studying her head from all angles.
“This is a high honor,” he said.
She stroked Steven’s spine. “So I’ve been told.”
“In the kingdom, if a driftwhisp decides to adorn in your hair, it means—”
“Drogar,” I said.
“I was only going to explain the cultural significance.”
“Not now.”
His grin rose.
Krem had retrieved his clipboard. “Four driftwhisps. The previous record was one, briefly, during the electrical storm last October. They were seeking warmth.”
“These ones are not seeking warmth,” Traig said.
“No.” Krem wrote something down on the top sheet on his clipboard. “They’re decorating her. That’s significant.”
Laina stroked one of the other driftwhisps, and it glowed brighter. She shielded her eyes from the glare but smiled.
“They fly back to the enclosure when I leave,” she told the room. “Every time.”
Drogar looked at me over the top of her head. I directed my attention to my notebook.
Laina paused beside me to stroke Sofia’s back and turned to Krem. “The flowers are lovely.”
Krem’s cheeks darkened. “I hoped you’d think so. If you have any suggestions for improvement here, I’d love to hear them. Curtains, perhaps? Or even a chaise lounge here in the entryway.”
“That might not work well with the animals.”
“Good thought.” He noted that on his clipboard.
Drogar lifted his novel. “Regarding human mating ceremonies—”
“Not now,” I grumbled.
“Later, then.” He pivoted and left the entryway.
“I was thinking last night,” Laina said.
“Oh?”
“I’d like to take another look at Abagail before I say anything further.”
After she’d taken her bag to her office, we stepped outside and strolled to Abagail’s enclosure, finding Greth there, clipping the grass inside. While Laina entered the pen and went over to Abagail, Greth held a folded piece of paper out to me.
I opened it, reading his tiny handwriting.
He’d recorded pages of detailed observations about each creature in the compound.
And about Laina too. Her movements around the creatures, how they responded to her, the exact duration of her examinations. Even notes on how she spoke to each animal differently, adjusting her tone based on their temperament.
I looked up at him. “You’ve been watching her?”
Greth’s eyes remained on Laina examining Abagail. “She’s new. I had to make sure she fit in.”
“And your decision?” I asked in a low voice.
“The snugglethorn trusts Laina. So do you.” He shifted his weight from one heel to the other. “That’s all I need to know.”
He turned to leave, but paused, glancing back over his shoulder.
“She’s good for this place. For all of us.” His eyes met mine directly. “For you.”
He walked away before I could respond, his long strides carrying him quickly across the yard.