Page 115 of My Orc Has Big Tusks
Krem moved closer.
“In our culture,” he said, “when driftwhisps nest in someone’s hair, it means they’ve recognized that person as their?—”
“Look at this magnificent fizzling.” Drogar’s voice boomed across the space, drowning out whatever Krem was saying. He crouched beside the child, gesturing at the creature. “She produces excellent static. The very best kind. Would you like to see her demonstrate?”
The girl’s attention swung toward the fizzling.
Krem smiled and shook his head, but he stepped back.
I caught Laina’s gaze across the room. Her grin told me she’d heard exactly what Drogar had interrupted.
My focus kept slipping. My notebook sat in my pocket, waiting. I’d gotten everything ready last night while Laina slept. Each detail had mattered.
The fizzling performed beautifully, discharging enough static to make the child laugh, without shocking anyone. The discharge created small arcs of light that danced between the creature’s stripes.
The girl clapped and scooted closer.
“Can we take her home?” she asked her parents.
The mother looked at her partner, who smiled and nodded.
“If you promise to follow all the care instructions,” the mother said. “And let us help with the grounding.”
“I promise!”
Traig offered paperwork on his tablet, guiding the family through adoption requirements while the child sat beside the fizzling’s carrier, talking to the creature in a chirping voice.
Twenty minutes later, they’d completed everything. The fizzling rode in her carrier to their vehicle, the child holding it carefully with Laina’s help. Her parents secured it in the back seat beside their daughter.
We stood in the parking area, waving as they drove away. The girl pressed her face to the window, still watching until the trees blocked her view.
Carol stood beside Laina, her posture looser than I’d seen since she’d arrived. Not quite open, but no longer defensive.
“You’ve built something good here,” Carol said, looking around.
Laina turned to her mother, surprise flickering across her face.
Carol’s fingers drummed once against her arm before she dropped them to her sides. “Maybe next time I visit, I could volunteer? Do some real work instead of just observing.”
Laina’s eyes widened. Her fingers curled against her sides, a defensive gesture that softened almost immediately. When she spoke, her voice came out careful.
“I’d like that,” she said.
“Good.” Carol smiled. “I’ll call beforehand. Give you warning next time.”
“That would be appreciated.”
They stood together, neither quite ready to move, before Carol touched Laina’s shoulder.
Laina turned and found my gaze, her expression caught between pleased and uncertain.
I held out my hand and tugged her near.
We walked back inside together, where the others had already begun resetting the meet-and-greet area for the next scheduled adoption later this week.
When we’d finished for the day, I asked everyone to gather in the garden sitting area. We’d set up stone benches around a central area where bloombacks often grazed, their flowers shifting colors in the afternoon light. Trees provided shade without making the space feel enclosed.
Laina followed me outside with a confused expression on her face. “Did I miss something on the schedule?”
