Page 13 of The Orc's Protection
“By the ancestors, do you ever stop working?” Grulk asks as he joins.
I continue my inspection, recording a note in my assessment log. “Some of us take our responsibilities seriously.”
“Midday patrol,” he muses. “Morning drop-off, afternoon sweep… funny how your route keeps looping past a certain kindergarten classroom.”
I straighten to my full height, staring down at him. Despite being an orc, Grulk stands several inches shorter than me, with the stockier build typical of HammerFall clan members. “Ms. Walker’s classroom was the target of a break-in attempt,” I state flatly. “It requires additional attention.”
“Additional attention,” Grulk repeats, tusked grin widening. “Is that what StoneWatch calls it now? Because from where I’m standing, it looked a lot like you watching her during drop-off this morning.”
“I was performing my duties,” I reply, surprised by how defensive the words sound.
“Right, right.” He leans against his cart, clearly enjoying himself. “And letting her wear your rain gear yesterday was just being helpful?”
My hands pause on the gate latch. “You were present during dismissal?”
“Fixing the drainage by the east entrance.” He taps his nose proudly. “HammerFall clan. We notice things.”
I resume my inspection, tightening the latch with more force than necessary. “She was getting soaked. I covered her. That was the immediate concern.”
“Covered her,” Grulk repeats, grinning. “You StoneWatch warriors always start there.”
“Say what you’re implying,” I snap, though I already know, and the knowledge sits uncomfortably close to thoughts I’ve been avoiding.
Grulk’s grin sharpens. “In HammerFall clan, as in your own, offering your protection garment carries meaning. You don’t do it casually. You don’t do it by accident.”
I straighten. “I know what it means where we come from.”
“Ah,” Grulk says, pleased. “But we’re not there now.”
“Exactly,” I say. “This is a different world. Different expectations.”
Grulk tilts his head, studying me. “Funny, then, that you treated the poncho the same way you would back home.”
I return my attention to the gate. “StoneWatch teaches consistency. Protection isn’t something we turn on and off.”
Grulk chuckles under his breath. “You can call it consistency if that helps you sleep at night.”
“And you can call it whatever you like,” I reply coolly.
He grins, satisfied. “I am. I’m calling it the beginning of trouble.”
The protective oil applied to clan gear is a habit so ingrained that I rarely register it at all, a subtle scent undetectable to humans but distinctive to orc olfactory receptors. “Force of habit,” I justify, and do not elaborate further.
“Sure, sure.” Grulk’s grin returns, tusks gleaming in the afternoon sun. “And I suppose you wouldn’t be interested to know I saw her treating it carefully this morning when she arrived, clutching it like a precious gift before hanging it on the back of her chair.”
The image lands with unexpected force, tightening something beneath my ribs. “Your imagination is overactive.”
“My nose doesn’t lie, warrior.” Grulk taps it again. “Your clan scent is all over her now. And she doesn’t seem to mind.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
“This conversation is inappropriate,” I declare, closing my assessment log with perhaps more force than necessary.
“Oh! He’s getting defensive!” Grulk says, as if noting something of mild professional interest. “Next, you’ll be telling me your chest doesn’t tighten when she looks your way.”
I feel heat rising to my face, an unacceptable physical response. “StoneWatch warriors don’t respond in that manner.”
“But they do blush, apparently,” Grulk observes, laughing again. “Relax, Vraag. Human females are quite appealing; no shame in noticing. Many of our kind have found compatible mates among them.”
“I have work to do,” I announce, turning to continue my perimeter check.
