I whip my head up, “Uh…yeah.” I check that I’m still clothed, of course I am, “It’s because I’m a mammal.” The troll moves closer to touch my arm lightly. 

“It’s growing back.” He says lifting my arm. 

“Oh, it must have been scraped off in my fall, as disturbing as that sounds.” 

He then tilts my face up, “Here too.” He rubs my chin gently with his thumb and I shiver in something that’s not unpleasant. ‘No stop, this is weird.’ I flush. 

“Yeah it’s called stubble, I haven’t been able to grow a full beard yet.” I bite at my lip looking away.

“I don’t like the stubble, it's not comely.” He says gruffly and pulls a literal knife from somewhere. I hear the sheath it must have been in and metal scrape against each other. I hold up my hands “wait!” Then suddenly remember that I have a pocket knife, I check my pockets and feel my shoulders tighten, I brought it with me. I grip the knife firmly, ‘thank goodness.’ 

I look up, letting go of the knife I’d need to save it. “If you try to shave me you’ll cut me.”

“That’s not going to happen.” He chuckles. “I know to be careful.”

I consider if he’ll be willing to take no for an answer, maybe if he cuts me he’ll learn his lesson. I shuck air through my teeth. “You know to go against the grain right?” He grabs my head tilting it back. Knife touching my cheek. I grit my teeth. 

“What’s the grain?” he asks. I gasp in trying not to make an expression that would wrinkle my face but I’m terrified. I’ve never let my stepmother shave me. Even my dad accidentally cut me sometimes. I close my eyes. Then as he moves and manipulates my face I realize that despite the movements being forceful and hand digging into my hair, the knife moves so lightly on my skin I barely feel it. “There, all done.” He says breathing inches from my face again, he really has no aspect of personal space. I touch my face gently and listen to him return the knife to its sheath. I can’t believe he was actually good at something so delicate. 

“Why do you look so surprised?” He snaps snarkily. “I told you I wasn’t going to cut you.” He runs his hand through the length of my hair, “It’s long.” I say, wondering if he was going to cut my hair next, “I know.”

He burst out in a laugh, “This is not long.” He crouches, pulling his hair around for me to feel for the first time. “This is long. You will need to grow yours out.”

I touch the long braids, and dreads, some areas feel soft and brushed but the textures are really weird. It’s definitely not human hair. I look up and then ask so softly for permission I know he didn’t understand me.

Despite that I feel him take my hands and hold them to his face. I feel what I would have assumed was a statue's face. Their skin is like rock. Fangs like tusks gut from the bottom lip. But the lips and shape seem normal so they are very humanoid. I touch his eyebrows and feel his eyes flutter a little as I get too close. Then up to the top of his head. He feels like he shaved the sides and let the long hair tumble down his scalp to his shoulders. Gathering the picture in my mind I wonder. “Are you gray?” I flush a little, “like stone?” 

“We are all different colors of stone, yes.” He says with a little chuckle in that deep, gravely voice. I bite the inside of my cheek a little. ‘Oh fuck I’m falling for him.’ I let go of his horns which I had been touching apparently and move away quickly. ‘Why? What has he done to make me attracted to him? He's been rough, forceful, demanding, he treats me like a pet.’ 

He lets out a confused huff.

I duck underwater covering my face, ‘Don’t tell me I’m into that!’ I stay under trying to make the warm feeling stop until he forces me up by picking me up. “Watcha doing, trying to drown?”

“I’m not.” I mumble. “I’m tired.” 

The chief thinks about it. “Okay, you’re not in trouble for the time being. Try to get some sleep.” 

I went to the bed he led me to and found the new clothes. I grab a blanket and change underneath it. Hesitating as I pull the pocket knife out and slip it under a pillow. He picks up the sopping wet clothes from the floor where I dumped them and turns around leaving me to rest. The clothes are like a dress, I suppose it’d be called something like a tunic. I make sure I’m covered and then he comes back around and ties the waistband for me. ‘No pants?’ I think. He’s humming to himself soft and slowly so his voice fades away slowly as he leaves. “Thank you.” I say and roll over clenching the pocket knife under the pillow and the warm and fluffy blankets. They feel good on my face and legs. I wonder what animal they came from. 

I fell asleep with the chief’s smell in my nose. He sounds nearby but far enough that I feel both safe and comforted. This bed is much bigger than the last. I have a concerning dream about him and me back in the hot springs. ‘Why are we naked? He’s so calm and casual about it like he doesn’t care.’ I remember being embarrassingly forward, ‘I’ll make him notice me.’

He wakes me up by uncovering my ankle. I pretend to be asleep as I remember what I was just dreaming, he gently unwraps and massages medicine on it, it feels a lot better now. I wonder why they don’t just use the moss for everything, perhaps it’s sacred. I relax deeper as he rewraps my ankle and places a bowl and cup near the bed for me to wake up to.

A loud noise wakes me up again and I sit up a little confused and frightened. “They’re singing.” I relax, feeling stupid I listen. The tribe has gathered, my senses are filled with the smell of food and celebration. ‘It’s cool how close they are.’ The tent flaps open and the obvious sounds of rambunctious children enter. I expect them to get scolded back out. But instead they run around messing with the Chief’s stuff. When they notice me a squeal of fear and delight leaves them. I flinch. “Alright leave him alone you little terrors.” A familiar sexy voice enters. The children rush out. The spy sits down after looking me over. “Oh mai did he groom you?” 

I flush and shake my head, “What are you talking about?” 

“You look a lot better than you did earlier.” He reaches out, I hear the movement and I sit back putting my hand up to establish boundaries. “No touching.” 

He clicks his tongue and then gestures, I'm assuming,  “I’m talking about your face, it’s smoother and your hair looks like it’s been brushed.” 

I just nod, not knowing that my hair had been taken care of. I touch my hair to see that yes, the snarls had been removed. The image of him brushing my hair while I was sleeping was…something. 

I ask, “What’s going on out there?” The music is strange and dark but I feel the beat in my ribcage. The sounds of multiple gravely voices singing amplifies as someone else enters the tent. I feel my face light up as I recognize the chief’s heavy gait.

I smell a little sweatier version of his cave scent as he enters a little breathless. My face gets hotter and I just hope it’s not obvious. I strangle my feelings and emotions and force myself to ask calmly. “Are you celebrating something?” I feel a twinge of embarrassment as he ignores me talking to the spy in german. They have a short conversation.

The spy gives the human a knowing expression as the chief leaves with the home-made wine to soften up the people. Food and drink and music he must really want to keep this human as a pet. 

The human didn’t know how obvious his attraction was, thankfully the chief was too thick to notice. 

“What?” I ask when the spy chuckles. 

“Nothing.” He covers his mouth, then continues more professionally, “All the spies have returned, we are going to have your trial soon.” I feel sick. My stomach which was hungrily growling earlier, twists in knots. ‘Oh please let something happen to save me.’

Sitting in front of the chief. Arms, neck, and torso tied with rope I start sweating but keep my head down. San is kneeling next to me much calmer. He bumps me gently and I immediately recognize the intentions behind it. I look up at where he would be and feel him breathe a little in relief. 

The three spies report their missions to the chief one by one. The sexy voiced one speaks first repeating what he told me word for word. The second sounds a lot bigger and scarier. He says, “He is telling the truth that they fear us, when I approached a group they fled terrified calling me a “bear” some even gave me offerings. He lifted something and there was a surround sound of “ohhhh.” I hear a crinkle, ‘what is it?’ “As I escalated things to try to get them to use weapons they threw one of their own down to the ground and fled, I say the human was telling the truth.”

San lets out a gasp of relief bumping me and I can’t help but feel a little sick. I lied to protect San and justified it but finding out that the Chief was just trying to scare rebellious teenagers and not actually going to punish them, it made me feel bad. 

The third steps up and says nothing. Confused, I look around as there are some murmurs in the crowd. ‘What’s going on?’ “He’s speaking with his hands.” One of the tribe members tells me. ‘Oh? Do they have their own sign language? So the troll has a verbal disability?’ I lean forward a little to get more comfortable. After the troll is done he signs someone to translate for me I believe. “He says that your name is Ray. Your family is looking for you.” There was definitely more to it than that but that’s all they say. “I know my father and… some others… are looking for me.” I say. I go quiet waiting to see what the chief wants to do with the information. 

“Do you want to go back to your family?” The chief asks suddenly. I tense up and panic. They would find my body at the bottom of a river or overdosed in bed. The shaking and crying answers for me.