Fog reached a certain point in her ropemaking and said, “That’s enough of that for now,” with a big stretch. As she exhaled, she strained her ears for any strange noises, but all was well; all she heard were the sounds of earth being dug up and chatter about the day’s work not too far from her house. It seemed Gaius was quietly waiting for night to fall, which helped Fog to calm down. With one last glance over at the sleeping children, she carefully left home without making a sound.
She made her way toward the area where new houses were being constructed, walking stick in hand. Kobolds young and old alike were working together to build foundations for new homes. With the help of the forest-clearing group, they all worked together like a well-oiled machine. Having already finished digging out the pits, they’d moved onto preparing the soil that they planned to pack onto the roofs.
One of the middle-aged kobolds working there explained to Fog that they didn’t have enough of the dry, straw-like grass they would normally use; at this time of year, the stalks still contained a significant amount of moisture, so they had decided on earthen roofs instead.
“Got enough rope handy? I made some black rope if you need it.”
“It looks like we’re set, but we’ll take some if you got it. Thanks.”
“Just trying to make myself useful, since I can’t do much right now. Maybe I’ll head back home and make some more. I’m sure we’ll need it sooner rather than later.”
“Sounds like a good idea... Oh, looks like they’re back from tree-chopping.” Fog turned to follow his line of sight and saw the group that had ventured out into the woods making their way back to the village, carrying a log on their shoulders. They’d stripped the bark on-site, exposing the white fibers inside. Apparently they’d had to travel further into the forest than usual in order to find a good, straight tree, but fortunately, they’d gone without running into any magical beasts.
“Looks like they found a good one. That’ll make some nice support. Shame we have to use green wood, though,” he said, narrowing his eyes. Ideally, they would let the wood dry before using it, but with winter so close at hand, the most important thing was to have shelter from the cold. They’d have to wait until after the winter before making more permanent homes.
“Right, well, good luck.” Fog handed the rope over to the middle-aged kobold, waved, and left the others to their work.
She went past the makeshift prison on her way home. Gaius was still patiently waiting there, just as she’d ordered him to. The puppy-faced young guard sat nearby, yawning periodically in boredom. Fog walked past without stopping to go inside.
When she returned home, it seemed her son had wet the bed while he and his cousin had been curled up together, asleep. The two of them were now locked in a childish brawl.
Fog sighed and smiled, even as she reached for the water jug to wash them off.
＊
Gaius sat obediently in the cramped hut, as Fog had told him to, when he heard a creaking noise outside, followed by a thud! Then came screams of female kobolds, and shouting from the men.
“Did the supports fall?!”
“Maybe we didn’t drive them in deeply enough?”
“Red Eye’s son is still in there!”
“What?! We have to move these, hurry! Go get some more men!”
Though Gaius could not see the commotion outside, he could easily guess what had just happened.
He looked toward the entryway of his little jail. The young guard looked back and forth, conflicted over whether he should stay to guard the prisoner or go to help his fellows.
“What’s going on?” Gaius asked. The guard looked over at him briefly, but did not respond. He was likely under strict orders not to speak with the prisoner. Gaius tried speaking to him again, but once more received no response. All the guard did was continue panicking, his gaze flicking back and forth between the site of the accident and Gaius.
“Answer me!” The guard let out a gasp and fell backward, as though stunned by the anger in Gaius’s voice.
“A-A house collapsed, and a child is trapped under it.” The moment he heard this, a fire lit up in Gaius’s eyes.
“Why didn’t you say so sooner?!” he roared, and with a flex of his muscles, he tore through the ropes that had bound him. He crawled out of the storehouse—past the guard, who shrank away from his approach, eyes and mouth agape—and sprinted toward the commotion.
The villagers screamed even more at the sight of Gaius, but he ran past them and soon reached the collapsed house. Several kobolds were frantically scooping away at the earth beside it, attempting to get below the collapsed roof. There were few adult men; the women and children who had remained in the village were doing their best, but it was clear they were short-handed and short on strength.
He drove his hands into the wreckage and began to clear away the roof, which was made of bark, piece by piece. He pulled up the pillars, now little more than scraps of building material held together by rope, and flung them to the side. In the very next moment, he saw a small, young kobold who had been trapped beneath the fallen roof.
The child, who had black and white fur, lay motionless on his side. For a moment, Gaius feared he’d been a second too late...but when he checked and saw the child’s chest rising and falling, he sighed with relief.
“I apologize for startling you. If you’ll excuse me.” And with a quick nod, Gaius quickly walked off back in the direction of his prison cell.
...The villagers stared, dumbfounded, as he crawled back into the small storeroom. After a moment, Gaius’s face popped back up in the entryway, causing the kobolds to jump, then freeze. The air was thick with tension.
As they held their breath, Gaius slowly looked around at the crowd, and carefully opened his mouth to speak. With every single kobold’s vision trained on him, the human took a deep breath and said, “I’m, er, terribly sorry, but...I tore the rope you used to bind me. If someone could tie me back up...?” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
＊
“...and Fishbone got a real lump on his head, but he woke up right after that.” Fishbone was the name of the child Gaius had rescued from the collapsed house.
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“Sheesh, you’re so reckless... But thanks to you, my son’s best friend is all right. So I’ll let it slide that you didn’t follow instructions.”
“You’re too kind.”
Gaius quickly lowered his head in a curt bow, and Fog burst out laughing. Gaius joined in.
“Did they finish building that house afterward?”
“Yeah, some of the villagers got together and got something standing. We can worry about the details later. For now, we just need roofs over our heads, so we’ve got to build like crazy.”
“Is that so? It sounds like difficult work.”
“You’re one to talk! You’ve got nowhere to stay. Doesn’t that mean you’re going to go look for somewhere to build a new home, too?”
“That’s right.” He laughed again. After their brief chat, Fog collected his dishes and headed for the entrance.
“Oh, yeah, by the way. No one’s touched your wagon, or the stuff inside.”
“I appreciate that.”
She said it, which meant it must be true. Gaius believed that strongly.
“See you later, Gaius. I’ve got to go put the kids to bed, then ‘accidentally’ fall asleep myself.”
“Mm-hmm. Good night, Fog.”
“Night.” Fog gave him a small wave. She stood up carefully so as not to put weight on her injured leg, and took her leave.
＊
“...So.” The next morning, Fog stood in the storeroom, pressing her fingertips to her eyebrows.
“Why aren’t you trying to escape? Am I not making myself clear, Gaius? Or are you messing with me?”
Fog began to growl. Gaius held up his palms and did his best to pacify her.
“Hear me out, Fog. Come on, don’t bare your fangs at me. Wait a minute. Stay. Sit.” Chomp.
“Ow!”
“So are you going to answer me?” Fog asked, releasing her teeth from his fingers.
“I thought it over last night.”
“Thought what over? Didn’t you get any sleep?”
“No, I slept quite well.” That earned Gaius another bite. He gently pried Fog’s teeth off his arm, then set her down in front of him.
“You told me there aren’t enough homes here.”
“Hm? Yeah, but so what?”
“Would you allow me to help out?”
Fog had been scratching her neck, but she froze at the question.
“What’s with you? Are you, a human, feeling sorry for us?”
“No. Well...perhaps. But that’s not all. I’m not very good at explaining myself. I just want to help.”
“So, what, you want to make up for the fact that your fellow humans destroyed our home? We don’t need your pity.” Her gaze had turned into a glare.
Gaius looked her in the eye. “We may be of the same race, but I’m not one of them. I can’t atone for their crimes, nor do I intend to try.”
“So why, then?”
“How should I put this? I...no, hmm...it’s...that is...” Gaius’s eyes were closed and his arms were crossed as he hummed in thought. A moment passed, and then he lifted his head.