The roar split the trees.

It was a guttural, animalistic roar, one which faded before reaching the ears of the rest of the world, before the cries could be heard.

But there was no question that the shouts were real, no philosophical questions about 'did it really exist if none heard it'. No, the anguish through the air was very much real, spawned from pain of the body - and worse, pain of the pride.

Go'rex roared again, straining against his bonds. He was blindfolded... not the pathetic human form of the term, blindfolded meaning his eyes were covered, ears plugged and bound, and nose plugged. Only taste and feel were permitted to exist for him, and neither told him much about his surroundings except that it got cooler at night. He was blind to the world, unable to sense what went on around him, an uncomfortable aversion that he wanted rid of.

Go'rex silenced for a time, panting. He could feel his wounds - each and every one of them. And mentally, he could see them... he could vision the patterns of red on his light green hide. On both arms, slashes. More slashes, on his stomach. Most painfully, on his thigh.  And his right ear was bound rather painfully. Unfortunately for him, his wrists were expertly bound - it felt like rope or cord - preventing him from doing anything about his situation. His legs were just as securely bound to the tree at his back, a thick tree which seemed impossible to crack.

It had been an annoying event to begin with. Go'rex was a fairly typical young orc. Like everyone in his tribe, he was basically shoved with the other young orcs in a large area, and left to care for himself with the others. And Go'rex was tough, he knew how things worked, and knew how to survive. He was a teenager by orcish standards, and particularly strong for his age.

Again, 'strong' doesn't mean what humans pretend it means. Strong includes street-smarts; the capability to survive. In his element, it's rare to find a truly weak adult orc... most instinctively and reflexively can survive in tough situations.

Still, everyone makes mistakes. And Go'rex, moreso than other orcs, had a ton of enemies. He wasn't a complete idiot, and knew that being completely without allies was hazardous to one's health, yet he still found himself with an uncomfortable amount of enemies due to his unfriendly attitude.

So an ambush caught Go'rex just like it'd catch anyone else. He fought like blazes, but none of these other orcs were pushovers either... Go'rex was physically stronger, but they could easily hold their own, and they had stone weapons made for such an occasion.

Yeah, they knocked him out.

He could tell that he'd been unconscious for quite some time. He felt rather weak, having lost a sizeable amount of blood. The air was warm, but the cool wind ate at his wounds. Not to mention the added irritation of having lost all of his gear... even his clothing had been swiped, his vest, shorts, band, pouches... all he had left were his cloth anklets.

He froze. He had halted his straining for a time due to both exhaustion and as he wished to contemplate his situation. Still, he felt... someorc. It was very subtle, very light. But he felt it... someorc - term someorc meaning 'someone' - or something tugging at his leg.

Was it some sort of animal? There wasn't much that was dangerous in these woods, but he didn't want any animals toying with his wounds, nor did he want the other orcs to mess with him. Basically, regardless of whom it was Go'rex would lose out, and as such he returned to struggling.

But to no avail. He could feel whatever it was toying with his leg for awhile. He felt it move up, to his thigh and stomach, then clumsily to his lower arm. From this, Go'rex helplessly realized that whatever it was was fairly short/small, not too heavy, and apparently not very strong. Which meant it couldn't reach the wounds on his upper arm and shoulder, although due to his arms being bound at around waist level, he couldn't protect that segment of his limbs.

He wounds felt heavy... was it a style of poison? HE shifted to the extent of his abilities and felt something of his move. It was uncomfortable, but there really wasn't anything he could do about it. Maybe a hook or something to continue the bleeding? But it didn't feel that... tough...

After an uncomfortable length of time, he returned to struggling. He wasn't sure what the other thing was or where it had gone (or what it had done), but he merely assumed that whatever had lost interest. Of course, the ropes still didn't give at all, and the orc soon slept via exhaustion.

He awoke with a start, the following morning... well, probably later than that. How long had he been asleep? He had had a great dream - orcs always dream - but he couldn't remember what this dream had been about. Still normal... I mean, most people forget their dreams shortly after waking up. At any rate, he struggled on and off for a time...

...until something smacked him in the chin. It wasn't a very hard thump but it was a threat, and Go'rex immediately began snarling and struggling rampantly. A reaction which lasted until whatever it was hit his open mouth. A few drops of liquid hit his tongue.

Instinctively he jerked away, smacking his lips. What was this?

But that small taste reminded him just how thirsty he was. He felt it butt against his mouth again, and pondered. If this was poison, it was a waste... he was very vulnerable at the moment anyway. So basically, he took his chances, and allowed the unseen observer to shove the object into his mouth.

The water tasted clean. Go'rex drank for a time, as his mind processed what was going on. This tasted like a canteen of some sort... he could feel the harsh metal. But such water-holding devices were extremely rare amongst younger orcs. That meant this orc had to be one of the larger, tougher orcs (although still young or he wouldn't be in this region of the forest).

That, in and of itself, was scary.

All too soon, the canteen was removed. Go'rex felt some fiddling about his wrists for awhile, which moved to his ankles, then stopped altogether. Go'rex, after waiting some time, went back to struggling, as it began to rain. He hadn't known what that event was, but figured that someone was enjoying tormenting him thus. He tasted some of the rainwater as it hit his face.

Later that evening, he felt himself earn headway in his bout against the cords which bound him. The rain had soaked the cords which bound him, and he was pleased to find that they were the type of cord that stretched when wet rather than contracted. He struggled for a time, until he had realized that it was safer to pretend to be bound overnight and thus come out tomorrow at full strength than to get out while very weak, and thus be a perfect target for a counterattack before he could get some food. As such, he drifted off to sleep.

He awoke with a loud yawn. His ear throbbed now, the uncomfortable binding tearing at him. He smacked his lips, stretching as best he could (which wasn't much) to fully wake himself up.

On cue, he felt the object touch his jaw again, lightly. He froze, silently tugging at his wrists. He could feel the rope stretch until he could clearly break free at any time.

Still, he couldn't see nor hear nor smell. And without at least one of these senses, he still may not react properly. He could be surrounded, one could have a sharp stone held to his neck, waiting for him to break free. Still, he had to try, so he waited until he felt the object - clearly the same canteen as before - prod him again.

Everything happened at once. Go'rex snapped the cords, yanked off his blindfold with one hand, reaching for the other being's neck with his other hand.

...too high. His claw groped at the air, while his blurring vision saw the very startled shorter creature. Both reacted simultaneously, Go'rex reached again, the creature shifted to dodge and run. Go'rex, by the flip of luck's coin, won that contest, grabbing the creature by the neck. He hoisted, and slammed the creature against a tree, holding him there.

Go'rex waited in that position, panting, as his vision cleared. His arms were throbbing; his entire body was sore... he wasn't exactly in the best of shape. Still, he took deep breaths, slowly, in and out, as the world slowly refocused. Utilizing his other arm, he unplugged his ears and nose.

It was an orc... probably just three or four or so. He was feebly groping at Go'rex's claws, searching for air. It was very... odd. Young orcs by this one's age usually had enough sense to avoid larger orcs. Since a larger orc could beat up, kill, or maim a much smaller orc without effort required. Half the time, it was even unintentional or reflexive.

Go'rex's eyes trailed aside, noting the ground. There was a stick there, a long one. At the end was a metal canteen, hooked onto the stick fairly securely with cord. Go'rex pondered a moment more... what exactly did the little orc think he was doing? Toying with his legs...

...his legs. He glanced at his lower wounds. They were bandaged... badly, but bandaged. Had this orc been basically caring for him? But if so, why not simply release him?

Still, he made a decision. He brought his face close to the young orc, his tusks dangerously close. "Don't run."

He then let go, dropping the small orc in a pile on the ground. Expectedly, the young orc gasped for air, holding his neck. Go'rex crossed his arms, staring down at the young orc, as if analyzing him. He noted that the miniature orc had a somewhat darker hide than he did. He was also wearing a pair of pants. Upon further analyzation, they were actually shorts that were entirely too big for him, held on by more cord. While the young orc didn't have much, he definitely had a nice amount of cord, which was in a small coil, tied onto his makeshift belt. Besides that, he had the anklets all orcs had, which summed up his gear.

Go'rex wasn't the type of orc who'd pick on those notably smaller than him unless one got on his nerves... even particularly cruel orcs tended to leave alone orcs that were half their size or smaller. Still, Go'rex was not a nice orc by any means, and he was known for finding rather creative methods of pummeling someone he's downed. At any rate, he waited until the young orc stared straight up at him. He could taste the fear in the miniature orc's eyes.

"You is?"

"Rok'r." Go'rex was amused, Rok'r had remained in a sitting position rather than standing again. He was trying to make himself smaller than he actually was, even more inferior, less of the threat he already wasn't.

Cowardice? Not at all. Rok'r was smart; he knew that his major chance for survival involved his admitting subordinance to the much larger orc. If Go'rex had continued to fight, the young one would fight back; but striving to avoid a battle you had a huge disadvantage in and would most inevitably die in is quite a good idea.

Go'rex waited a bit more. It was partially out of kindness, allowing Rok'r to take a couple more breaths and thus steady himself, but mostly due to curiosity. Go'rex wanted to know what the young orc had been doing, and intended to find out.

Finally, Go'rex picked up the canteen. He noted Rok'r flinch, then steady himself. He picked it up, and scanned over it. "Dis yours?"

"Yeah." Rok'r swallowed nervously as Go'rex squirted some water into his outstretched claw, and sniffed it before licking it a bit. Tasted just like clear water. He threw the canteen aside.

"Was you, last two days?"

"Yeah, was me." Go'rex noted Rok'r cringe. The young orc knew that, should Go'rex get pissed off, he could die. So he was trying hard to avoid pissing him off, and thus was trying to avoid offering extra information unless it was necessary.

Go'rex analyzed his own wrists. "Felt you playin' with me. Why Rok'r do that?"

Rok'r swallowed again. "Tried free. Ropes tied real strong. Hurt claws."

Go'rex picked up and analyzed the ropes. Sure enough, he could see a few knicks in them, as Rok'r offered more information for clarity. "Tried - tried to fix wounds, but no more bandage and you is big orc."

Go'rex exhaled, an amused gesture. It was obvious that Rok'r was saying that to bolster his pride, but... well... it wasn't like he minded another ego-boost.

The 'eloquence' (so to speak) of orcish is a bit lost amidst the translation... 'big' in this respect refers to size, physical prowness, and general superiority. Those of you who know elvish likely have had problems with terms being overly simplified for common; orcish is the reverse, with complex terms sounding... simple.

"Rok'r won't get eaten?" Go'rex advanced, causing Rok'r to subconsciously scoot backwards. "Rok'r like messing with seven-orc?"

Rok'r swallowed. He had been asked nothing, and thus - quite wisely, might I add - kept quiet. Go'rex, after a time, spoke again.

"How old is Rok'r?"

"F-four."

"To half?"

"N-nosir, Go'rex."

'Half' basically means 'and a half' in common. In the above passage, it's implied that Rok'r was closer to four years of age than to five. Still, Rok'r had made a mistake, and Go'rex dimmed his eyes, catching it.

"How Rok'r knows Go'rex?" He demanded.

Rok'r's eyes widened, and he tensed. Shakily, after a minute pause, he stammered, "B-been w-watching Go'rex."

"What? Why?"

"W-w-watched Go'rex practice. Go'rex so strong -" This one means skilled at combat - "Rok'r felt real... real awed. "

Go'rex raised an eyebrow, causing Rok'r to cringe even further, but he continued. If Go'rex had wanted him to stop talking, Go'rex would've said so.

"L-liked watching Go'rex. Rok'r is w-weaker and l-liked learning how Go-Go'rex lived. Was just trying... trying be big too."

Rok'r knew he had just at least halved his chances at survival. If Go'rex opted not to believe him, Rok'r could be blamed for the ambush, and for a half dozen other things, or Go'rex could be annoyed that he'd been watched for so long without noticing.

Or he could be flattered, or more likely, not at all care. It wasn't like Rok'r was very threatening anyway.

So Rok'r sat, quietly, waiting for Go'rex's decision. Go'rex, for his part, pondered exactly what Rok'r was expecting him to. Did he care or not?

Finally, he acted. Go'rex reached forward, slowly. Rok'r cringed, immediately shifted his weight to dodge, then froze, not moving as Go'rex grabbed his neck and hoisted him. Rok'r cringed again as he was pulled closer to Go'rex's face, and noted Go'rex lick his uncomfortably large tusks.

Upon which Go'rex reached up with his other claw, as he opened his mouth a bit. His other claw toyed with the knot Rok'r had tied in the front of his makeshift belt. A bit of clawwork and the belt snapped, upon which Go'rex yanked Rok'r's shorts away from his small frame.

Rok'r was terribly afraid that Go'rex had done that so as not to eat his pants; he knew from his watching Go'rex that Go'rex disliked eating cloth or fabric. But then, Go'rex dropped him to the ground again in a pile.

Rok'r stared, surprised, as Go'rex opened the pair of shorts up completely. Apparently, Rok'r had folding the shorts so it fit slightly better... fully unfolded it was almost right. Go'rex stepped into one leg, then the other, pulling it up. It was slighlty loose around the waist, but slightly tight around the groin area and legs. Still, it was long enough for his liking, and he lobbed the now-loose coil of cord back to Rok'r, who failed to catch it.

Rok'r was breathing easier, relieved. From this, it seemed that all he had lost out of this dangerous run-in was his shorts, rather than his life.

...A note about orcs and clothing, particularly young orcs. Orcs don't care at all about wearing clothing for the modesty reasons humans wear clothing. An orc walking through camp nude wouldn't even draw a glance from other orcs; it's perfectly reasonable and normal.

A few factors, however, get orcs to prefer clothing. An orc is typically comfortable wearing simply shorts, typical length being going down to a bit above his knee, and if wearing shorts may just ignore other articles of clothing (Shoes, Shirts, etc). If the region is one where it's either perpetually cold or has a cold season, orcs will aim to net more clothing so as to keep warm, whereas if it's a warmer region, shorts get shorter and more baggy.

Another, fairly major factor (mostly among younger orcs, but it still exists on a smaller scale in adulthood and more prominently in military tribes) is status. Basically, if you have an orc wearing a shirt, shorts, backpack, canteen, vest, and headband... it means the orc was able to keep this gear despite combat with his peers and such. If an orc is pounded by another orc, the victor will often swipe some of the loser's gear that the victor's doesn't have. Sometimes, as embarrassment such as what happened to poor Go'rex, all of the loser's gear will be confiscated, forcing them to start over with maintaining a healthy amount of 'stuff'.

I personally believe that orcs, like humans, have an inherent desire to have clothing in case it gets cold, which is why orcs prefer being in shorts to being nude when they don't really care either way. It's just that, while humans explain it as modesty and hide behind a lot of clothing, orcs don't waste the effort and thus wear whatever suits them.

As a final note, it is typical in orcish society when storytelling to slip into and out of the story without any warning at all. I believe I did this once before, and I apologize for not granting you this explanation sooner.

"Not bad." Go'rex said, shifting around his new shorts. Rok'r, still on the ground, gathered his rope and coiled it around his shoulder. He hoped, fervently, that he'd just be let go.

"Come."

Rok'r's face returned to that of worry. Come? What did he do?

Rok'r followed Go'rex, nervous and worried. What was going on? He tried to think of several things, but nothing came out good.

The pair neared a fairly secluded small pond of sorts, by which Go'rex did much of his training and by which Rok'r had often watched Go'rex train. Go'rex traveled to the other side of it, and halted, eyeing Rok'r.

He then reached into a tree, through a small owl-hole. He reached down, fingering through something, while Rok'r stared at him perplexed, until Go'rex came out with a knife. Without allowing Rok'r to think about it, he lobbed the knife at Rok'r's feet.

"Good trade? Shorts for knife?"

A knife. Rok'r grabbed the knife, and looked over it. It was soundly built, and vaguely sharp at the tip. It was slightly too dulled and scratched for Rok'r to see his own reflection in, but he gripped the worn leather handle tightly. A good trade? This was an incredible trade for Rok'r!

"Y-yessir! Very good trade!"

Go'rex smirked, lobbing Rok'r's canteen back to him. "Good." Reaching into the tree again, Go'rex whipped out a vest, and pulled it on. Rok'r's eyes widened, but he held his tongue.

"Rok'r lucky. Go'rex like Rok'r; Rok'r help Go'rex, so Go'rex help Rok'r. Friend?"

Go'rex rubbed Rok'r's head, who was still staring in shock. "R-really?!"

"Yeah." Go'rex sat down by the lake, and motioned for Rok'r to do the same. Rok'r had seen him do this many times, and had never understood why, but he promptly bounded beside him and fell to his knees, peering in the water. There were a few fish there, swimming.

"Fish like orange berries." Go'rex pointed to a small trap of sorts he had made with vines. It was made so that, should a fish attmept at the berry inside, it would be rather hard for the fish to get back out, as these fishes were unable to swim backwards. It was empty at the moment, though. Still, Rok'r stared, impressed. He had tried to catch fish himself earlier (By grabbing them) and had assumed they were impossible to catch.

A cold breeze blew across the lake, causing Rok'r to shiver. Go'rex yawned, and grabbed Rok'r close to him, holding him roughly, as a sort of consolation for having swiped the smaller orc's shorts. "If Rok'r stays sub, Go'rex and Rok'r be good friends."

Rok'r, used to curling into a ball to sleep, curled into Go'rex's side. He wasn't big enough to remotely threaten the large orc, although he was in a growing year. "Rok'r stays sub."

Go'rex smacked his lips, just relaxing, as he leaned back a bit, still holding Rok'r against his side. It took the most minimal of effort for him to comfort the young orc, and in return he got someone he could use for a variety of purposes to aid in both of their survival. So he'd relax for awhile, keep Rok'r warm, let both fully contemplate the agreement both had abruptly jarred into.

...then he'd get something to eat, as he was starving.