The people in the camp were strange. They were… then I realised what an idiot I was. Of course, they were short. They were dwarves. I had never seen dwarves before, but they fit the description. The tallest of them would come up to my chest, but they were stocky and powerfully built. I watched for a while, and they were all dwarves. There didn’t seem to be any other races with them. I didn’t know whether that was a good or bad sign. Dwarves could be antagonistic to outsiders.

The camp was being set up for a longer-term occupation. One log cabin was built, and a second is under construction. All the rest were tents, except for a large area with just a roof and fires burning in the back area. This roof had tables and planks to sit on and seemed to be a communal eating area. Then, on the side of the area, some barrels were stacked up. Make that a communal eating and drinking area. Dwarves are known for their drinking. Even I know that.

To one side was a fenced area, and some pack mules were grazing. I saw a couple of dogs wandering around, but that was it for animals.

I tried to count the number of Dwarves, but there were too many milling about and coming and going into the forest. I could hear axes chopping trees in the bush somewhere. From the number of tents and seating areas, I figure there are about fifty dwarves. More if you count the ship.

I wished I had Farsight so I could see the ship in more detail. It looked big to me. It was wooden, with three masts. The hull must be reinforced against the ice.

As I watched, I realised there were a number of female dwarves there as well. I realised this because they all had very large tits. If they were beast-kin, I would say they were feeding young, but none of them seemed to. This must just be how female dwarves are. This was the only thing that let me tell male from female. They were all the same size, with the same beards and long braided hair. Dwarves seemed to like lots of hair.

I could not understand what they were saying. I know my common tongue is only apprentice level, but I am sure they were not speaking common. It must be their native dwarvish language. This could be a problem if I try to meet them. Somebody down there must speak the common tongue.

Just after lunch, I saw a leather-clad archer and two other axe-carrying dwarfs carrying a large doe and a brace of rabbits. They put them down behind the cooking fires and skinned and prepped the meat. The doe went straight on a rotating spit over one fire, and the rabbits were diced into a large pot and put on the fire. When the wind swung around, and I caught the scent of the cooking meat, my mouth started watering.

I sat in that tree and watched them all afternoon, fascinated. Late afternoon, a group of twenty or so dwarves came out of the bush, leading ten laden mules. There were more dogs with them. They had pick axes and shovels. They unloaded the mules and let them into the fenced area. They then helped themselves to a drink from one of the barrels.

Some other dwarves went through the mule packs and started sorting the ore. One of them held something up and started yelling, all excited. Several others went to look. I really wish I knew what they were saying.

Then, I was distracted by a flapping of wings, and an Osprey sea hawk landed on a branch near me. It just stood there and watched me. There was no way for my camouflage to be good enough that it didn’t see me. All hawks are known for their eyesight. I stayed still, watching it warily. I wished I had something to throw at it to make it fly away.

It stayed and watched me. This was not natural. I was not small enough to be its prey; it should be scared of me. I briefly broke camouflage to try and shoo it away. It didn’t even flap its wings.

“Hello there, laddie,” came a voice from below.

I risked taking my eye off the hawk to glance down to see if I was being addressed. I was. It was the hunter with the bow, and he was looking right at me from the ground. At least he didn’t have an arrow ready. The other two with the axes were there as well, and I realised one of them had tits, so was a female.

“Hello,” he yelled again and waved at me. “Don’t mind Sheila there. The hawk is my bond; she won’t hurt you.”

I glanced at the hawk, who hadn’t moved. I didn’t know anything about bonds with animals.

“Sheila says you have been up there since before we got back with the hunt, so we figured we had best say hello,” the dwarf continued. “I am Yoboc Snowbuckle, but just call me Yoboc. This is Thranmak Bolderblade, or Thran for short,” he pointed to the titless dwarf and then to the one with tits, “and that is Goldie Honorhide.”

She would be easy to remember as she had yellow hair and a beard to go with her tits.

“Do you want to come down and say hello? If you mean no harm, we can share knowledge of the area for a hot meal and an ale,” Yoboc continued.

I actually figured I didn’t have a choice. He had a bow, and the hawk would be able to track me easily. Plus, the hot meal is enticing.

I got up from my perch and stretched after my long stay. Then, I grabbed the trunk and used my claws to climb down.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

When I got to the ground, the dwarves were as short as I estimated. The back two had hands on their axes, but Yoboc didn’t. The female seemed to be looking at me up and down, and I felt uncomfortable.

“Hello again,” Yoboc said in a lower voice. He stepped forward and held out a hand, “Call me Yoboc.”

I wasn’t sure what this meant, but he seemed to want me to grab his hand, so I reached out mine, and he grabbed my forearm with a strong grip. I didn’t like that and tried to pull back, but he held on briefly before releasing my arm. I stepped back.

Yoboc was puzzled. “It is a greeting lad. We clasp forearms and introduce ourselves. You obviously understand Common. Do you want to try that again?” He held out his hand, saying, “I am called Yoboc.”

The titless dwarf said something in a language I didn't understand and laughed. The titted dwarf frowned, hit him over the head, and spoke angrily.

I watched all this carefully, trying to understand what was going on. Yoboc stood there patiently with his hand out.

I stepped forward again and grasped his wrist. “I…” I had to clear my throat and think. I hadn’t spoken for almost a year. “I’m Ivan,” I said.

“You look like you might be lost out here, Ivan. Where are you from?” Yoboc asked.

I shook my head, “Not lost.” I said haltingly. “Live here.”

His eyes narrowed, “you look a little young to live here. Where is your camp? I haven't seen any signs of someone living here.”

I shrugged, “No camp. Just wander.”

The titless dwarf at the back laughed like what I said was funny. He earned another hit on the head from the golden tits.

“You are just wandering the wild?” Yoboc said in disbelief. “Where’s your gear?”

“Gear?” I asked.

“Gear. You know, clothes, weapons, camping stuff?”

I shrugged, “No gear. Just me.”

The titless dwarf started laughing again like he didn’t believe me. Golden tits didn’t hit him this time. I don’t know why.

“You are telling me you are wandering the arctic wilds naked with no weapons?” Yoboc said.

I held up a clawed hand. “Weapons.”

“You had better come into camp. This sounds like a story that you tell after a few ales, not before.” He turned to the titless dwarf, “Thran, go and get some trousers for Ivan to wear. We can’t have him wandering the camp naked.”

“I don’t know, boss,” said the golden tits, “Some of us would quite appreciate it. That is a nice hairy ass he has.”

“That is the problem,” Yoboc said to me. “Some of the lasses are a bit lusty, and a hairy ass is a bit much temptation for some.” He gave golden tits a pointed look.

The titless one ran off toward camp. We started to walk in the same direction.

“This is a mining camp of Clan Forgemaker,” Yoboc said. “We are all Kin here.” The way he said Kin seemed to have some special meaning to them, but I had no idea what. “Old Undoth Greyspine is our Prospector, and it looks like there are some good minerals here. It is about time we turned a profit.”

The titless dwarf came back with a pair of trousers, and I figured out how to put them on. They were full-length trousers on the dwarves, but they only came down to my knees. The waist was too large for me, but there was a cord I could tie, so they stayed up. I thought they looked funny. They felt funny against my fur.

Goldie was smiling, so I am pretty sure she thought they looked funny. I shrugged. This seemed to be what they wore, so I should try to fit in.

I followed them into the camp. There was no way I was going to fit in here. I towered over everybody, and my white fur stood out. Everybody stopped and stared. Yoboc led me to the eating area. I had to duck my head under the wooden beams. He sat me down and got me a bowl of food that smelled absolutely delicious. My mouth was watering.

I grabbed the bowl, tipped it into my mouth, and promptly burned my tongue. I dropped the bowl on the table, spilling some, and dashed out, stuffed some snow into my mouth to stop the burning.

Everybody was laughing at me. It is not funny. I had forgotten hot things can burn you.

“Come on lad.” Yoboc said, “I forgot to warn you that it might be hot.” He guided me back to the table. “We usually eat stew with a spoon. It helps it cool down and doesn’t make so much of a mess.”

I looked around at the others eating and saw that was what they were doing. I would have to watch others and copy them to avoid making more mistakes.

I picked up the spoon and took some stew. Rabbit stew from the taste. It was even more delicious than it smelled. Eating with a spoon was… it was slow. I wanted to gulp it down as the stew was so delicious, but I restrained myself. Plus, my mouth was still smarting from the burn.

A mug of liquid was plonked in front of me. That smelled funny.

“The venison will be ready in a half hour,” the dwarf said. This one had a black beard and was shorter than most. He was wearing an apron.

I nodded and indicated the stew “Nice. What in it?”

The dwarf’s mouth twitched. “At least someone appreciates my cooking. It has vegetables from home and onions with my special herb mix.” He nodded and moved on.

That didn’t mean much to me, but I nodded in appreciation.

“That is Thon Ironbraids. He is our cook, and if you tell him you like it, you will get the better bits,” Yoboc said.

I was definitely going to tell him that. I sipped the drink and spluttered it back out, causing more laughter.

“That's ale, lad,” Yoboc said. “It is a type of alcohol. We grew up on it, but it might take a bit for you to get used to it.”

It tasted awful to me. I watched Yoboc take a long drink and tried another small sip. I covered the tase with stew. I didn’t like it, but I guess I will try to fit in.

“So, Ivan. What is your story?” Yoboc asked.