Athgar looked around at the villagers, already cutting apart the day's bounty. His feet were sore, and his muscles ached from the strain of drawing his bow so frequently. It had indeed been a successful hunt, and the village would be well-stocked with food for weeks to come.

He finally convinced his legs to carry him home. As a wielder of flame, he warranted his own hut, as was typical of a spellcaster, though the Orcs preferred the term 'Shaman'. He halted at his door, a simple animal skin that hung to form a curtain, and pushed it aside, stepping inside.

His bed was built into the framework which formed the walls, a wooden shelf that extended out over the floor, its surface littered with furs. He sat, removing his boots, and looked around his small space, taking in the bows that lay stacked against the far wall. In the last year or so, he had been working on the great warbows that Kargen had suggested. It had taken months to come up with a design that worked for the Orcs, and now, his planning complete, he had begun fabrication of them in larger numbers. Twenty such weapons lined his wall, finished and ready to use, while another eight were in various stages of construction. So powerful were they, that the Orc chieftain, Gorlag, had proclaimed them too dangerous for the hunt and so they stood in Athgar's hut, ready for use should the need arise.

He lay down on his bed, taking a deep breath, and was soon asleep.

Kargen sat back, gulping down a drink from the small pot while Shaluhk roasted some meat over the fire that sat in the centre of their hut, its aroma tempting his nostrils.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

"I am," he replied, "though I would gladly forgo food just to be here. I cannot have enough of you."

She laughed, causing him to smile. "You have picked up Athgar's habits," she said, "and you use a lot of his phrases."

Kargen screwed up his face, "He said he cannot have enough of you?"

"No," she admitted, "but he said the same thing about the stew I prepared yesterday."

"Well," he said, "it was very good."

"You should go and get him," she said. "You know he is terrible at cooking, the poor man would starve if not for us."

"He is likely sleeping."

"Go and get him," she persisted, "you know he is like family."

"Oh, very well," Kargen said, with an exaggerated expression as he stood. "I shall go and fetch my Human friend."

"Now that is the Orc I am bonded to," she said, her eyes twinkling in the light of the fire.

He paused at the doorway, the curtain held ready to fling aside, looking back at her a moment.

"Will you miss me?" he asked.

"Every time you are out of my sight," she replied.