“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Grey,” the old man said with a smile hidden behind his short, thick gray beard, no ill intent I could sense. Yet, for all my previous glee at being called anything other than a freak and treated with a hint of respect, to hear him call me “Miss Grey” just didn’t sit right with me. It actually gave me chills and hit me with guilt.

“K-Korra, call me just Korra...that is, if it’s okay with you,” I stammered and sighed, “I’m no miss.”

Scoresby raised his thick, grizzled eyebrows, his eyes crinkling with questions, making me realize how wrong that came out.

“I-I mean, I am not married or anything. I just...I just don’t think I merit the courtesy...I don’t feel like a...a lady.” If anything, I felt more like a savage woman, a beast even.

To his credit, the old man let me speak and listened to my babbling, only to nod. “Very well, once again, a pleasure to meet you. Would you like to join me by the fire, Korra?”

“I...w-well, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d rather stay here,” behind the wall that separated us and with him a few meters away from me.

“All right, just know I don’t mind sharing some of the warmth.”

“Th-that’s...nice of you.”

‘Way to bury the talk, Korra,’ I thought to myself as an awkward silence fell between us. Fortunately, the old man didn’t seem to have lied about being used to talking to people.

“Forgive my curiosity, but how does one such as you find herself in the midst of this forest? Esulmor is not really a place that people travel through.”

“Is that what this forest is called? Esulmor?”

The old man Scoresby looked at me, astounded. “You don’t know?”

“W-well, I know this place used to be the Esulmor Ege Inn and that the Esulmor Squirrels live around, but that’s about it,” I said in a lame effort to keep him from thinking I was an utterly clueless dumbass.

“Oh, so you ran into those critters. I hope you didn’t think to touch their trees. They are known to protect them quite fiercely - in fact, I’ve heard of them driving away even dual array folks, and some claim they have the gall to stand up to even a young mossbear...,” he said, a frown creasing his brow. “I hope you didn’t run into those, either.”

“Well, I did,” I admitted after a brief hesitation. “Although, I followed your advice and it let me go.” Well, mostly I followed my instincts, but he didn’t need to know that.

“My advice? I don’t recall giving you one, Korra?”

‘Oh, shit...’

“Y-you see, I heard you talking to your horses...the last time.”

“...to my what?”

“The two mares over there.”

“Oh, you mean scalehoofs. Well,” Scoresby said and paused, smoothing his beard. “I have to say, girl, you’re quite peculiar.”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“W-what do you mean?” No doubt I was weird, but didn’t he say I looked like those Terr’dens?

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

“I...w-what...?”

“Forgive my curiosity, occupational deformation, but I couldn’t help but notice that you use a weave when you speak.” There was not a hint of doubt in his voice or eyes, and thus no reason to deny the fact.

“I-is that so obvious?”

“Kind of; you sound like you’re speaking in a strong dialect, but there’s this off feeling in your words. I apologize; it’s hard to describe and definitely not something to look down on. There are still plenty of people in Sahal using the [Eleaden Standard Language] weave. The thing is, uh...you don’t have many glyphs in it, do you?”

To stop myself from cursing, I bit down on my lower lip, and a little too hard this time, tasting blood. To Scoresby, I was an open book, while I couldn’t tell a damn shit about him. It was quite vexing, to be honest.

“No, not really. I haven’t had much opportunity to talk.”

“That bad, huh?” Scoresby asked, no doubt meaning my life as a slave. There was so much pity in his voice to make me feel even more miserable than I already did. Then his blue eyes flashed with sorrow, and he pointed to the fire crackling in the old fireplace. “Are you sure you won’t join me? Warmth is good for more than just keeping old bones from getting cold, you know?”

A tempting offer, still...

“No. I mean, thank you, but...”

Scoresby held up his hand to stop me. “There’s no need for you to explain. I have seen many abused slaves in my lifetime - helped a few myself, but some poor souls...well, let me give you some advice, Korra. I know it may be hard. Nevertheless, try not to turn your back on people completely. There are still a lot of good folks out there.”

“Like...you?”

The old man chuckled. “Another piece of advice, girl. Don’t believe anyone who tells you they have only good at heart - ask others, make up your own mind about them.” The corners of his mouth, hidden behind his beard, twisted upwards. “Although I believe you’re doing well in that regard. Quell my curiosity. What did Sylph’ra tell you about me?”

Obviously, the old man had been awake during my nightly exchange with the mare. Not so much surprising as embarrassing to have someone listen to me talk to a horse, a scalehoof, that is. Still, I had to give him credit for not intruding on us.

“Is that the name of the...what is she, actually? Is she a mare?”

“Tits, you must have had it awfully hard if you haven’t heard of scalehoofs. Yes, Sylph’ra is a scalehoof mare.”

Cursing myself for my big mouth, I nodded, silent and glad that with all my freakiness, he didn’t start questioning whether I was from Eleaden at all. Maybe cases like mine were common, or maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as weird as I thought.

Be that as it might, still hidden behind the wall, with only my head sticking out, I glanced at the two mares. The older one, Sylph’ra, watched me warily, with Lyl’ra half hidden behind her, clearly afraid of me. “Is it all right to tell him?”

»Yes,« the older mare neighed softly.

“Well,” I said, shifting my attention back to the old man. “Sylph’ra is happy to have you as a partner. She says that you’re a good man and that you take good care of them both.”

“I’ll be damned; I’m not sure I deserve such praise,” Scoresby said towards the mare. “When we get back home, I’ll give you a good rubdown and an extra helping of fresh hay.”

Sylph’ra neighed happily, with no meaning behind it except for pure joy.

»I want the rub, too,« the younger of the mares whinnied wistfully, making the old man laugh. “I don’t need a weave to understand that. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you too, Lyl’ra.”

For a moment, I considered telling Scoresby that it was not the weave that allowed me to talk to animals, that I was only able to do so because of what I was, a freak, but then I pushed the thought away, not wanting to betray all my weirdness to him, when I barely knew the old man. Instead, I looked around at the ruins, the place that had allowed me to meet him and now gave me a way to steer the conversation away from my weirdness and learn more about where that damn bug sent me.

“Can you tell me about this...place, Mr. Scoresby?” I asked just as the Lattice judged that I had said enough, for another glyph to be engraved on my weave.

* 16th glyph engraved on Eleaden Standard Language (⦿⦿)