Damp hair is the worst sensation in the world and I’m not being dramatic, ever. Wood looked less than thrilled for his second bath, especially after finding worm bits floating in the multi-used water. There were guts in my hair, a handful of grit, and several small twigs that I’m not sure where they came from. The ship?

I’m looking around for Cain and the other porters, looking for a quick moment with other members of my species, but I’ve not yet found him. I think the orcs are still partying, so they might be there. There’s a big bonfire over there., let’s check it out.

I approach the large beings in the shadows as most sit around either a pot or an open bonfire and walk steadily towards the largest blob dancing in the shadows.

“Maw!” I called out, seeing their short animalistic ears twitch, the rings glinting with the movement. Turning towards me, I faintly hear a snort as I am approached,

“Little warrior,” Maw starts, “I heard you ate poison and thought we wouldn’t meet again. What brings you here?”

“I just need some time away from the elves- they’re great and all, but I don’t want them to get sick of me.” And also I was poisoned under their watch. Maw snorts again, but this time it sounds amused,

“Strange that anyone would sicken of spring soil; come and feast with us, little warrior- Maybe you can wrestle with some of the third-husbands and thicken their hide!” For some reason Maw laughs, landing a mitt-sized hand on my shoulder. 

Had it not been for my constant efforts to remain upright when the sandwhale shifts, I probably would’ve fallen. Maw sees my stance and their stiff expression seems to lighten up even further, sniffing and their stiff ears twitching with movement.

“By the way, what do you mean by third-husband? Are you married to them?” At my question, Maw threw their head and what seems to be their upper body back and laughed a squealing yap, which was then echoed by the other orcs in the group, causing the human porters sitting with them- oh hi guys- to startle briefly before joining in the squall. 

I covered my ears until the group quieted down.

Wiping a tear off their eye and still huffing out intermittent giggles, Maw started talking, “Ah, humans! I’m not married to any of these runts, I’ve got my own bevy back home working with my fourth litter. Orcs have their system starting with the wives, first wife, second wife, and an increasing number of husbands who help manage the litter or the clan if unmarried. We go by size and skill- a first-wife can support many, but a third-husband can maybe carry a hammer if he’s lucky. Understand?”

“Not really,” I respond, “But I don’t need to understand everything. So where are you on the scale?”

Maw grinned again and told me she was a first wife. Considering how she stood head and shoulders above all the other orcs and two heads above Cain, I guess I can believe that.

“What are you doing out here then? You have little ones back home, right?”

Maw rubbed at her bristly chin before replying, “Yes, that’s why I’m traveling to support them. The clan will feed them and shelter them but if I seek for them to grow any more than a second-husband, then I need to seek fortune elsewhere or take up arms against my kin. Besides, this way I can seek out my eldest daughter’s valets and maybe even a concubine if fortune favors.”

“Why do you want these things?” I asked, head tilted. Maw huffed a laugh before replying that everyone wants company. Fair enough, I guess? I asked what a concubine was and before Maw could answer, Cain came up coughing in an exceedingly loud manner. Gross.

“That’s for something for you to discover later in life tiny little child!” He said, pointedly looking at Maw, who then snorted in his face. Ignoring his following sounds of disgust, I tried to guess which orc was a higher or lower-numbered husband. Or wife. I still can’t tell them apart. Maw kneels down beside me and whispers, 

“Hey, how can you humans tell who’s who?”

Let’s whisper too, that seems fun, “I don’t know what you mean.”I reply back, watching as another orc scoops Cain on top of his shoulders to join the rest of the partygoers; they’re playing some obscure game where the orc below is acting like a horse for the joust.

“Well a lotta humans smell sorta like orc piss when they meet with me and their pelt is changeable, so I’m wondering how you keep track of one another, aside from voices and such.”

Huh. Well, there goes my initial answer…”Most sorta keep track of faces and hairstyles alongside the voice.” I explain like I’m the expert in this subject. Now back to the smell thing that not one, but two different species have brought up.

“What exactly do humans smell like to you?”

“I mentioned piss right? But like, boiled piss with flowers inside. Humans think that it smells good, so they pay the lucky clans for barrels of the stuff and then cart it off to the richer humans. I don’t get it, but I also don’t get paid to barrel my passings so it could just be spite. It is good for avoiding animal attacks I imagine, nobody wanting to mess with an orc.”

“Do orcs smell like orc piss?” Am I missing something here? Also, wow, gross. I really hope not. Gross gross gross. I shouldn’t have asked this question.

Rather than give me an answer or change the subject, Maw just started rubbing my head. She’s still within reaching distance, so I start petting her too, enjoying the almost-right texture of her bristly head. She doesn’t have hair like I do, so I imagine her experience is much softer than mine.

“Hey kid, ya wanna be adopted?” She offers after a few minutes of this pet-a-palooza. I don’t so I shake my head.

“I’m heading over the desert to see my mom,” I explain.

“It’s only a little adopting, I doubt she’d notice it.” Maw scoops me up into her arms and cradles me as she continues her argument. I ragdoll and lazily stare at the other people around the campfire, orcs and humans alike enjoying the spectacle.

“Best escape soon, Maw’ll really go through with it!” One of the orcs calls out, his lips curling around banded tusks. Oh dear, so she really does mean it. So many adoptive parents and moms all the way in Westville, probably. Oh, she’s going to owe me so much bread for this- I could’ve had like two parents in the time I’m taking to get to her, but here I am on yet another journey.

Against my defense, I could’ve set off earlier, but in my defense, I was a toddler. Now wisened and aged as I am, there are no more obstacles in my path.

Now let’s wiggle out of the orc’s arms before she forcibly adopts me.

HelloHound

It is very difficult to describe a pig-headed person in a world where pigs aren't domesticated animals and are in fact sorta people. Anywho I had many distractions this week and that threw me off my rhythm but at least I got cake at one point. Here's hoping that next week I have more focus than was given a turnip.