Page 11 of X'nath

I leaned back against a tree, listening to the men around me as they traded light-hearted banter about which of the human females they’d choose, who they might claim for themselves. It was a bit of a joke, something to ease the tension after the ordeal we’d just been through. But the truth was, there weren’t enough of them to go around. The numbers were limited, and when we were out of options, well... the choices would be made. Some of the men were eager, others more hesitant, but they all knew the reality of the situation.

“I’ve got my eye on the blonde one,” Korrin muttered, his voice low as he looked toward the fire. His hands, callousedfrom years of hard labor, played absently with the hilt of his axe. “She’s got a fire in her. Did you see how she didn’t back down from the dark haired one? Could be fun to tame.”

“Maybe,” Greag grunted in reply, scratching at his scruffy chin. “But I’d take the older one. She’s seen more. Knows how to survive.”

I snorted at their words, knowing full well he didn’t have a chance. Not while I was around. The men underestimated her. She wasn’t just surviving, she waswatching, calculating. I liked that.

As I eavesdropped on the women, listening to their hushed murmurs, I wondered about their past. They were afraid, clearly, but something about them felt... different. These weren’t the usual captives. There was more to them than met the eye. I had to admit, I was curious. And I wasn’t the only one.

The crackling fire’s warmth barely reached me as I leaned forward, watching the human females as they huddled together. Their discomfort was palpable, but it only made my interest grow. Gracie, though, she wasn’t as easy to read. She was quiet, assessing us, trying to understand what game we were playing. I could see the suspicion in her eyes, but it only made the challenge that much more alluring.

Then, just as I was about to speak, something rustled in the nearby brush. It was quick, fast, and before I could even blink, a pair of weasels darted from the shadows and joined us by the fire. They were sleek, their fur glistening in the firelight, eyes bright with intelligence. They circled the men, tails twitching in excitement.

The women jumped in surprise, one of them letting out a soft yelp. Their eyes widened as the weasels approached, skittering over the ground, unbothered by the women’s fearful gazes. I could tell from their expressions that they hadn’t expected thesecreatures to show up, and their reactions were exactly what I’d hoped for. Fear and confusion rippled through the air.

“What is that thing?”

“Why is it so big?”

“Eek! Get it away from me!”

“They’re not dangerous,” I said, my voice smooth as I leaned in toward Gracie, who had the sharpest gaze of all of them, unphased by our companions. “They’re with us.”

Gracie narrowed her eyes at me, and I was enthralled with the focus of her attention. I reveled in it. “We’ll be the judge of that,” she muttered under her breath.

Her words were soft, but I could hear the challenge in them. It was that fire again. The same fire that had caught my attention earlier. She wasn’t easy to manipulate, not like the others. What would it be like to have such a female at my side?

As the weasels moved closer to the fire, sniffing around the men and circling their legs, the women stayed frozen, unsure of what to do. They could barely contain their fear, and I could tell they were trying to decide whether to trust us or not.

I smiled, leaning back against the tree again. This was all part of the game. The trust. The suspicion. The dance that would ultimately lead to someone giving in, one way or another.

The men continued their idle chatter, but my attention was entirely on her now. The older woman. Gracie. The way she watched us. The way she didn’t trust us. I knew it wasn’t the last time we’d cross paths in this strange, dangerous dance.

And when it came to it—when it all boiled down to what we truly wanted—she would be the one who could decide the game’s outcome.

For now, though, I let the tension linger. It would make the moment all the more satisfying when she finally realized we weren’t leaving anytime soon. Not untilIhad what I wanted. And what I wanted was her.

The night was long,the fire crackling low as we kept watch, taking turns. The women finally rested, their exhaustion from the storm, the wreck, and the unfamiliar terror evident on their faces as they curled up beneath makeshift shelters made from leaves and branches. The firelight danced over their faces, casting shadows on their features as they slept fitfully.

We knew better than to let the fire burn too bright—light would attract attention, and with the swamp behind us and the endless stretch of dark waters in front, we couldn’t afford to be careless. But it was cold, and we kept the fire low enough to give warmth without drawing too much attention. The night was silent, save for the occasional rustling of leaves and the soft murmur of distant creatures in the dark.

The first shift passed quietly, the men quietly whispering to one another, our eyes trained on the surroundings, our minds alert while we reloaded and sharpened our weapons. We knew what could lurk in the darkness, in the trees, and under the water. Every snap of a twig, every distant rustle had us on edge. Even the weasels, usually so calm, were on alert, their medium bodies flicking in and out of the shadows, ears twitching at every sound.

As the hours dragged on, we stood guard, taking turns in pairs. The second shift approached, and I stood with Korrin, my thoughts drifting to the task at hand. When the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, I heard Greag’s voice, gruff and rough from hours of waiting.

“Looks like we survived the night,” he said with a grunt. His eyes scanned the area before glancing over at me. “Not a bad start, considering the mess we’ve gotten into.”

“Mess, huh?” Korrin chuckled, rubbing his hands together to warm them in the cool morning air. “I thought you were more optimistic about this. We're walking away with what we set out to find.”

“You and that optimism,” Vakgar muttered, rolling his eyes. “We need to be thinking about what’s waiting for us on the return journey, perhaps finding a different path.”

One of the women whimpered as he gripped his hammer, and for a brief moment, his eyes softened. Despite his massive frame, the harshness of his exterior, and the weight of the journey ahead, he, like the rest of us, silently hoped that by the end of this trip, he might find something more—someone to claim as his.

The men moved with purpose as they checked their weapons, the steady sound of metal scraping against leather filling the cool morning air. Each of us ensured our gear was ready for the journey back. Greag gave his axe a quick test, the blade glinting in the dim light as he swung it through the air a few times. He grunted in satisfaction, the weight feeling right. His eyes met mine for a brief moment, a silent understanding passing between us. There was no need for words. We both knew the road ahead wouldn’t be an easy one, and not everyone was going to make it out unscathed.

Gorruk, who had been quieter than the rest, was already well into his preparations. He ran a calloused hand down his grizzled beard before adjusting the small blades strapped to his legs. There was something calming about the way he moved, as though the chaos around us didn’t faze him. Focused. Calm. The older orc was all business, and in his quiet way, he set the tone for the rest of us. No room for hesitation.

I adjusted my own axe in its sheath with a soft grunt, eyeing the surrounding terrain, my senses on high alert. The weasels, ever vigilant, scurried through the underbrush. They darted into the brush, noses twitching as they sniffed the air, instinctively scouting ahead. Despite their size, they were useful, always alert to dangers before we were.

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