The generously proportioned and well muscled;
Dajambat Prap lays down the sturdy wooden tent-poles and heavy canvas she’s carrying and turns to her husband.
“That was a noble act. Tough as our adopted little son is, it would have been almost certain death for him in the wastelands. Now he and his funny dog, Mir Hundur still have a chance at life.”
Mahd Boss gazes back at his wife.
“Then why does it feel as if I’ve betrayed him?”
Confounding tradition, the Orcan chief of the Darkstar clan had only ever taken one wife and he trusted her judgement above all others, sometimes even above his own.
Closing the short distance between them, the prodigious, middle-aged Orcess places a strong hand on her husband’s broad shoulder.
“You saved him once before, gave him a good life, a family and now you’ve saved him once more.”.
Mahd Boss’ heavily tusked head nuzzles into his wife’s wild hair.
“And what of our other children? Why didn’t I send any of them with him to the safety of the Human lands?”
Fully wrapping her strong arms around her husband’s wide neck, Dajambat Prap squashes herself tight to him.
“You know full well that the accursed Red-eyes are targeting our tribe’s Orcish blood-line. They are unrelenting and will chase us down wherever we run. Only Halfling-blooded Liga Bur can escape them and there’s no need for him to die pointlessly trying to protect his younger brothers and sisters… Trying to defend us.”
Mahd Boss pats his wife’s plump behind and sighs.
“True enough.”
Then Dajambat Prap snarls.
“Besides, he’s the only one of them that would be accepted for anything more than lowly mercenary work. Despised by their leaders. Hirelings for the worst scum that the Humans have to offer. And you, my wise husband, know more than anyone how that feels.”
The massive Orc Chieftain breathes heavily.
“True again my love. Perhaps our clever boy will discover a path beyond mere ‘grunt’ work, beyond just hunting and fighting for survival. Perhaps he will find friends in the Human lands. Perhaps good fortune will shine upon him at last.”
It’s the thick set Orcess’ turn to sigh.
“Gruumsh willing, my Chief; Gruumsh willing.”