Page 55 of Solivagant

My axe.

The head was rusted, and the wood of the handle decayed. Though, it was probably something I could repair to a somewhat functional state. It was a better weapon than the kitchen knife anyway.

“Thanks… I guess.”

His ears twitched and his teeth bared as he tried to smile at me again.

“I need water.”

His head tilted again, then he stood once more and started walking away. The pig oinked as she ran after him, still trying to catch his tail.

Was I supposed to follow them?

My knees cracked as I got to my feet, staring longingly at the path back to the wall before I turned and followed him through the field.

The walk to the creek wasn’t long. The water was fresh, clear, and flowing quickly. Tusks ducked his head to drink from it first, so it was probably safe to drink from.

It was ice cold as I dipped my hands in, washing away the demolition filth of the day, before bringing some up to my mouth to drink.

So, I had water, I’d eaten, there was a fire for warmth, and I had a weapon, albeit a flimsy one. Tusks followed close behind me as I made my way back to the fire. He’d solved every complaint I’d had, so I had to find new ones if I was going to be able to reason my way out of here.

The shadows grew thick and heavy beyond the light of the fire, the forest coming alive with nocturnal insect and bird songs.

“There’s no toilet.” I informed him.

He tilted his head in confusion.

Whoever had lived here prior probably had some kind of outhouse or something I hadn’t seen. Though there was a bathtub, there hadn’t been a toilet or any kind of plumbing system. “Need a toilet to shit, and piss.”

He blinked.

“Relieve myself.”

Tusks blinked at me a few times before his eyes glanced around to the woods around us.

Naturally I should have expected such. He was a beast… of some sort. The whole forest was his toilet. So I’d probably get no sympathy there. Something else, then.

“I need to keep clean.”

His chin gestured in the direction we’d just come from. The creek. Fine.

I thought for a moment.

“There’s bugs,” I told him, and he tilted his head. “If the wrong kind of bug bites me, I could get sick. That house has too many holes to keep them all out.”

It was a weak-ass excuse, but one he couldn’t possibly hope to counter a solution for.

“You couldn’t possibly protect me from every bug.”

He rolled his eyes at me.

“I’m serious, there are mosquitos and ticks. Spiders. They can give us humans a whole bunch of diseases and problems.”

His tail twitched in agitation.

“It’s really just better if you let me go.”

He hissed. No.