Page 44 of My Orc Has Big Tusks
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. “Fourdriftwhisps. 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?—”
