Stormy Weather
Hannah
Greedily, I pushed berry after berry into my mouth, barely chewing before swallowing them down, then repeating the same motion over and over again.
I should have slowed down, should have considered that they could very much still be poisonous, but my hunger won.
What choice did I have? I was starving. I pushed my unease about this strange fruit aside and enjoyed its sweet, blueberry-like taste.
My face mirrored the relief I felt inside, and I occasionally made happy noises between chewing more and more berries.
Slowly, my stomach filled, easing the hollow, dull feeling I’d had since waking up that morning.
Gradually, my senses sharpened again, the brain fog lifting bit by bit.
My body was still heavy with exhaustion from the lack of sleep and spent energy, but I felt better now that my stomach was full.
Still picking berries, though now at a slower pace, I remembered my captor. He hadn’t spoken ever since he told me to eat. Stealing a glance, I looked behind me. He leaned against a tree, his eyes closed. He almost seemed peaceful that way.
Seeing him so unalert made me think about trying to escape, but I knew it was useless.
He was faster, stronger, and oh so terrifying when angry.
My back was still sore from when it connected with the forest floor earlier.
I was sure it would leave a nasty bruise, but I was glad that nothing seemed broken or worse.
Now that I could think somewhat clearly again, I realised just how reckless my behaviour had been.
I shuddered at the idea that this could have gone horribly wrong.
For now, I decided to bide my time and play along.
Knowledge was power, and trying to understand this strange new world and that man seemed my best bet for survival.
Lost in thought, I only realised I was staring at him when his eyes were suddenly open, watching me carefully. Sucking in a breath, I turned back to the berry bush and continued eating.
A few moments later, I heard him stand up. His footsteps grew louder until he stopped directly behind me. I swallowed the last berries in my mouth and turned around to face him.
He stood close, looking into my eyes before his gaze slowly trailed downward. As he did, his right eyebrow lifted higher and higher until he let out a deep sigh. Confused, I followed his eyes, looking down at myself.
Only then did I realise what a mess I had made.
My hands were stained red from crushed berries, my shift was covered in splotches, and the corners of my mouth and chin were sticky and wet.
Heat crept up my cheeks. I must have looked completely dishevelled.
Embarrassed, I lowered my gaze, unsure what to do.
“Are you done?” he asked flatly.
I nodded, wiping my arm across my mouth and chin. He stepped towards me, clearly intending to pick me up again. Alarmed, I stepped back, holding my sticky hands out between us.
“Wait. Please. Let me walk.”
He stopped mid-motion, observing me. “I can walk,” I added quickly. “I won’t run.”
He studied me for a long moment, as if searching for deceit, then said, “If you run, I will catch you and punish you, pet.”
I flinched at his harsh words and at being called pet, but relief washed over me. At least I had some agency back. I nodded again. He turned and walked past me. I followed.
Or at least I tried to. He walked fast. My legs protested, but now wasn’t the time to complain. I fell into a light jog behind him, preferring it to being thrown over his shoulder.
We continued on in silence until I heard the unmistakable sound of running water. Curious, I looked around and spotted what seemed to be a spring bubbling up between two large boulders.
“Wash yourself and drink,” he ordered over his shoulder.
Not wanting to be forced again, I obeyed. The water felt cool and refreshing against my skin, washing away the sticky berry juice. I cupped my hands, washing my face and mouth. Gods, I must have looked a mess.
Once my face was clean, I drank deeply. The cold water felt heavenly as it flowed down into my stomach.
I stepped away from the spring and turned back to him, catching him staring again. He nodded once and started walking. I scrambled after him, doing my best to keep up.
Although my body felt lighter now that I had food and water, it was still exhausting. I alternated between jogging and walking, occasionally running when I threatened to fall behind. My breathing grew heavy, sweat forming on my forehead.
“Please. Slower. I’m tired,” I managed to wheeze.
He stopped and turned around. With a tone that bordered on mockery, he asked, “Do you wish to be carried again, pet?”
Annoyed, I snapped, “I have a name, you know.”
“And?” he replied coolly.
Between heavy breaths, I said, “My name is Hannah.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why should I call you that?”
“Because I’m asking you. I don’t like being called pet.”
“But that is exactly what you are,” he said, already turning away.
He continued walking.
Why did I even bother? I thought as I hurried after him.
Still, I noticed that his pace had slowed. This time, I could keep up without running.
Drokahr
The air had shifted. I could feel it. It was faint, almost too faint to notice.
I wasn’t sure when it had started, maybe during my rage.
Too angry at my human to notice it, but now I could sense it.
Rain, wind, thunder and lightning. A storm was brewing.
Far away, not enough to be immediately alarming, but something to keep in mind when being outside.
I sucked in a breath, thinking about the best course of action.
It was possible to arrive back home within the day, but how would I go about it?
My clan members would surely ask questions about our whereabouts, and what should I answer?
She ran off? She outsmarted me by crossing the river, making me fall behind?
Embarrassing. I could already hear their mockery, and it made me angry once again. I would think about this later.
Opening my eyes, I saw her looking at me for a brief moment. Our gazes met, then she turned back towards the berry bush. I let her eat for another moment. Then, deciding it was time to go, I stood up and walked towards her.
Noticing my presence, she slowly turned around, and the question of how I should present her to my clan suddenly solved itself.
Not like that, I thought irritably.
My gaze swept up and down her body, taking in the stained clothing and her face and hands covered in berry juice. I would just throw her into a river and clean her like that. There was no way I would present her to my clan looking like this.
When I moved to pick her up, she backed away, assuring me she could walk and wouldn’t run off. I assessed her for a moment. Seeing no deceit, I let her be and walked off.
We only made a brief stop at a spring so she could wash herself, and at least she looked a little more presentable afterwards.
Her clothes were still dirty, her hair knotted.
I decided to postpone parading her around until I had properly cleaned her.
I would sneak around the back, entering the camp from behind, hiding her in my tent until I had the chance to do so.
Satisfied with my decision, I continued on, walking faster, until I heard her whining behind me to slow down.
“Do you wish to be carried again, pet?” I said mockingly, knowing it would get a rise out of her.
It was her own fault for thinking she could walk on her own and keep up with a warrior of the Kheelan Clan.
“I have a name, you know,” she said, her eyebrows furrowing.
It amused me to see how visibly upset she was by being called pet, but I was also curious about her name.
“My name is Hannah,” she said.
Hannah, I thought to myself, testing the name, how it felt in my head. I enjoyed the sound of it, but I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of calling her by her name. This was a privilege she would have to earn.
I kept walking, slower this time. I saw the exhaustion in her eyes, how heavy her breathing was. We were still some distance away from camp, and while I could have ignored her wish to walk, I wanted to see how far she would push herself before begging me to carry her again.
Walking slower also gave me the chance to keep her close and enough time to observe the air shifting further. Back at the berry bushes, I had still hoped the storm would drift away, but now it was inevitable.
I started to look for a place to stay for the night. Soon I spotted something that looked like a small cave between a cluster of particularly large rocks. I examined it, my pet standing close behind me.
“What are you doing?” she asked curiously.
“A storm is brewing. This will be our shelter for the night,” I explained briefly.
“Collect wood,” I instructed her.
To my surprise, she didn’t argue but instead walked off. I watched her for a short while, making sure she was doing as I had told her. Once I saw her picking up fallen sticks and small branches, I left her to her own devices.
We would need food. I was getting hungry myself.
We Orcs can be quite resourceful. However, after hunting her and having had no sleep last night, I was starting to feel tired as well. This cave would have to do for sitting out the storm.
“I will hunt. You will collect wood. Stay here. Don’t run,” I said as I passed Hannah. Her hands were already filling with wood, but we would need more.
“Alright,” was her only answer.
I made my way further into the forest, sniffing, observing the forest floor, looking for wildlife roaming these parts. I wasn’t a seasoned scout, nor was I an excellent hunter, but my skills were enough to provide a meal for me and my pet.
I soon found my prey, a small four-legged Ka’an with deep brown fur, drinking from a shallow puddle. Throwing the knife I always carried tied to my belt, I struck it cleanly in the throat.
Satisfied, I carried the dead animal back to the cave.
Hannah had already collected a few small piles of wood and carried each of them inside. Pleased that she had obeyed me, I started working on building a fire. The sky had darkened while I was out hunting, and the wind had already picked up.
“Pick up a few more sticks and then stay in the cave. It will rain soon,” I called out.
Soon she returned, her hands full of branches. She placed them beside the fire, which was now slowly catching, and sat down on the opposite side.
Once I was sure the fire was stable, I turned my attention back to the animal. Working swiftly, I skinned it and cut off strips of meat.
When I looked at Hannah, she had her gaze fixed on the fire, her hands stretched out towards it, warming them. For a moment, I simply watched her.
The firelight reflected in her eyes, making them almost seem golden. She looked calm, but every so often her eyebrows would furrow slightly. Had I not been watching closely, I would have missed it. She seemed lost in thought.
As if she sensed my gaze, her eyes shifted to me. Silently, we watched each other. No one spoke, no one moved, until a loud crack of thunder broke the silence, vibrating through the cave. She jumped and looked away.
I tore my eyes from her, focusing on cutting more meat.
I placed a flat rock beside the fire and laid several pieces of meat on it. Soon the sound and smell of grilling meat filled the cave.
Hannah watched closely. I could tell she was hungry again by the way her gaze lingered on the food.
“Hungry again, pet?” I asked mockingly.
Her eyes flicked up at me, annoyance flashing across her face.
“Do you want to eat?” I pressed, grinning.
Her lips pursed. “Yes.”
“The berries were plenty for such a disobedient pet,” I said, “but since you did well collecting wood, I shall be generous.”
I patted the ground beside me. “Come here.”
Shock, annoyance and anger crossed her face. She clearly didn’t want to obey.
I continued patting the ground. “Come. Be a good pet.”
Her nostrils flared, but she stood and walked over, dropping down beside me.
“Good pet,” I praised.
She shot me an angry look, and I chuckled. “So small, yet so angry.”
I raised a piece of cooked meat to her lips. Her gaze snapped to it, and I heard her inhale its scent. She reached for it, but I pulled my hand back.
“What?” she asked.
“I will feed you.”
Disbelief flashed across her eyes. “What? Why?”
“Because I want to pet,” I said, grinning.
“Hannah,” she corrected through clenched teeth.
I held the meat in front of her mouth again, waiting, challenging her with my gaze. Slowly, she leaned forward, opening her mouth and closing it around the food.
For a brief moment, her lips brushed my fingers. A jolt shot through me, my grin slipping as my heart began to pound.
I watched her chew and swallow, my gaze dropping to her neck. When I looked back at her face, her eyebrows were furrowed once more, questioning.
I distracted myself by feeding her another piece, then started to eat as well.
We ate in silence until the meat was gone.
Hannah soon yawned. She shuffled back to the other side of the fire and lay down, her back towards the flames, facing away from me.
I watched the fire, then her, wondering what had unsettled me so much earlier.
After tossing the last pieces of wood onto the fire, I lay down as well, listening to the storm outside and the crackling embers. Sleep came quickly.
When I woke again, it was dark. The fire had nearly burned out, only a few glowing embers remaining. The warmth it had provided faded as cold air crept into the cave. The wind howled outside, and every so often a freezing gust swept through the entrance.
I listened for danger, but heard none.
In the darkness, I could make out Hannah’s shape. She lay on her side, visibly shivering, her teeth chattering.
“Hannah,” I called softly.
She stirred. “I am cold.”
“There is no firewood left. You will have to endure it,” I replied.
“Please. I am so cold,” she said, sitting up, rubbing her arms.
I studied her. I wasn’t cold, but I was larger than she was. She was clearly uncomfortable, distressed, and I found I didn’t like seeing her like this.
I lifted my arm. “Come here.”
She didn’t move.
“Come here,” I repeated.
When she still hesitated, I lowered my arm. “Then be cold.”
A sudden gust swept through the cave, and she sucked in a sharp breath. At last, she stood and slowly approached me, her face full of uncertainty.
She lowered herself beside me. I lifted my arm again, waiting.
Slowly, she settled against me, resting her head on my other arm. I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her close, making her gasp. She pressed her hands to my chest, trying to pull away, but I held her firm.
She was freezing. I could feel her cold fingers even through my tunic.
Soon, her struggling eased. Her shivering slowed, then stopped. Her breathing deepened, evening out.
With her warm against my chest, I closed my eyes and fell asleep once more.