The human reared back with his ax and Samba rolled to the side to avoid his blow. His back landed painfully on a root, but it didn't slow him. When he got back to his feet, he saw the human still stood there with his ax raised.

He hadn't attacked?

"Solin kapda ani esse!" The man's shout sounded aggressive and he brandished the weapon again, taking a half step closer but no more.

"I don't understand you," Samba said, holding his paws out in front of him to show that he wasn't armed. That probably wasn't as effective for a clawed monster, but Samba was tired of the bloodshed and didn't want to start a war with his neighbors if he could help it.

"Relin saepa lonipa?" The man looked at him astonished. Maybe Samba was the first monster that hadn't tried to kill him on sight. To be fair, this man was the only human that he'd ever met that hadn't tried likewise. Though the Dungeon and the siege of Igna had been from the same group of humans so Samba's pool was much smaller.

Maybe they didn't have to fall to their baser natures?

He tapped his own chest. "Samba." The man looked confused so he repeated himself, tapping his chest again. "Samba."

The man's ax head lowered to the ground, but he kept one hand on the hilt. He pointed towards him. "Samba?" His accent was horrible, but he'd definitely just said his name. Excited, Samba took a step forward. The man took a step back from the excited otter, but no further.

"Yes! I'm Samba. Samba," he pointed towards the man. "What. Is. Your. Name?"

He repeated Samba a few times and then pointed to the man. The human scratched at the fur on his chin as he considered Samba's words. Now that he wasn't in danger of a fight, he got a better look at the man. He was much taller than any of the other humans Samba had seen besides the guardian from the Dungeon. He wore a thick leather jerkin and leather pants that Samba was pretty sure were armor.

Underneath it, he wore a simple white shirt. The man's fur was only on his head and along his jaw, but the fur on top seemed to be thinning or it grew in a strange pattern. His hair, that was the word, was a thick black and all the muscles that Samba could see looked thick and strong.

"Relin sosi saepa yatda?" He scratched his beard, the fur on his chin, again then planted one hand on his chest. "Muhlak."

Samba tried to say the word, but it didn't come out right so the human repeated himself until he got close to right. "Mark?"

"Tal! Tal! Muhlak!" Both of them were excited that they'd exchanged names, but neither seemed quite sure how to proceed. Mark was the first to think of something. He said another blur of unintelligible words and pointed from his ax to a tree.

"Oh, you came to chop down trees too?" His own words must have sounded just as confusing to him as he pointed from the ax to the tree. Samba was sure they were talking about the same thing so he mimed using an ax to chop a tree. "Chop?"

Mark got excited again. "Tal! Tal! Chope!"

Samba stepped aside and pointed to the tree in a way that he hoped said, "you first." Mark seemed to understand and moved ahead. He was only a little leery as they got within arms length of each other, but surprisingly, didn't hesitate to turn his full attention to the tree.

Mark swung his ax. Splinters exploded from the tree as a huge chunk was taken out of it from the single swing. Leaves and nuts littered the ground from how heavily the branches struck. Samba was impressed. He'd have been hardpressed to do as much damage with a single blow.

"Good!" Samba said and gave Mark a thumbs up. The gesture must have been universal because he returned it immediately, shaking a leaf out of his hair with a big grin.

"Goode! Goode Chope!" The man's smile was infectious and he grinned too. "Samba Chope?"

The man handed him the ax with so little hesitation that Samba felt bad for the man. Some monster like Gi would have killed him just for being human, but he let his guard down so easily just because they'd shared some words. He thought he was immensely foolish, but at the same time, Samba was jealous.

Was this what it meant to be a human? To make friends as easily as a monster made war?

Even though he was saddened by his own nature and the naivety of Mark, he didn't want to miss this opportunity to spread something other than death. He took the ax from Mark and swung with all his might at the same spot. With about the same force as Mark, the tree's trunk was obliterated.

The force of the blow sent the base of the chopped tree flinging backwards and the top rocketing towards the ground. Dirt and leaves slammed into it and a few animals were sent skittering away from their suddenly destroyed homes, but the noise didn't deter the two new friends.

"Goode Chope!" Mark said, giving another thumbs up. "Sambalin Goode!"

The two of them didn't speak the same language, but it didn't matter. They spent the rest of the afternoon chopping down trees and dragging all but the one Samba needed towards the human's village. When the sun waned towards the horizon, the woods started to be filled with long shadows and Mark looked reluctantly towards his home.

"Relin dinil opa?" Samba didn't have a head for languages apparently as he struggled to understand what Mark was saying. The man pointed to the sun, made a circle with his finger, and then pointed between the two of them before gesturing towards the ground.

"You want to meet back here tomorrow?" Mark's head tilted. It took them a moment of back and forth before Mark finally understood the word for tomorrow, but when he realized that Samba understood and agreed to meet with him. He grinned wide.

"Tal! Tomorrow. Mark iago Samba. Goode!"

The two of them walked off and Samba waved as he left. "Goodbye!"

"Re Triln apa!"

Samba rushed back to the great hall with his tree on his shoulder. There was a commotion in the camp and only when he returned did he notice Tala looking stressed just outside.

"He's back. Everyone head back inside!" Tala announced and the various monsters that had been gathered there dispersed. Tala's worry turned to a piercing glare. "Where were you?"

"Uh, getting wood?"

"One tree took you the whole afternoon?"

Samba winced. From her perspective, he'd gone missing and it was only his luck that she'd hesitated to send the entire clan looking for him. A misunderstanding between the exchange between him and Mark could have been devastating.

"Okay, so I know this looks bad, but let me explain..." He started telling her about meeting Mark and at first she seemed nervous, but his excitement chipped away at her apprehension until she was left with a smirk on her face. "...so I'm going to go meet him tomorrow!"

Her smirk didn't waver. "So you were late because you made friends with a human? Who do you think you are? Poe?"

Samba rubbed the back of his head feeling a little sheepish. It did seem more like a Poe thing to do, but she didn't understand what it was like to meet someone so different for the first time and not fight. "I guess so."

"You're lucky you're cute when you're excited, but please do be careful."

Eventually, he and Tala explained the situation to the rest of the council and they were even more concerned than she had been, but after Tala's tone that made it sound like Samba was a quirky Child, the rest of them seemed to relax. Even though none of them understood, Samba was still pleased and he knew one group of monsters who'd understand.

That night, he gathered Helm, Greave, and Shield to him when it was time for bed and all three of his children were snuggled up to his fur against the chilly night. When he told them the story, they all gasped in the perfect places and were significantly awed by the fact that he'd befriended a human.

"Can we meet Mark too?" Greave asked, always the troublemaker of the three. A glance towards his wife told him that Tala thought that a terrible idea - meaning she expected Samba to think that was a terrible idea as well.

"Uhhhh... maybe some other time if your mom says it's okay."

Her glare deepened, but he didn't have the heart to tell them no. She just sighed. "Okay, all four of you children. Go to sleep. It's late."

There was a chorus of "yes moms" as they snuggled further into his fur. At nights cuddled up with his family was about the only reprieve he got from his responsibility to the clan and the aching hole in his chest. He loved being a parent more than anything.

When Samba was just on the verge of sleep, Greave slowly slid closer to Samba's face. "Daddy, I wanna meet the human too. We won't tell mom, okay?"

Samba smiled big. "Go to sleep." Greave glared at him in a way that was very reminiscent of Tala. "Fine but your mom will kill me if she finds out." Greave's glare split into an easy grin and then he curled up right next to his cheek.

"I love you, daddy."

"I love you too."

The next morning, Samba left for the woods. Only Lamb gave him a concerned look as he stepped through the door, but nobody tried to stop him. He was practically skipping as he made his way into the woods and towards the same spot that they'd left each other's company yesterday.

Mark wasn't there when he got there, but that made sense. They hadn't communicated a time so Samba settled in to wait, letting the wonder of building something good wash over him.

It wasn't long until Mark showed up again. When he spotted Samba lounging on the ground waiting for him, a big smile lit up his face.

"Samba! Goode! Rekol mipa, solin feli esse!"

"It's good to see you too," Samba said and Mark held out his arm. He was a little confused, but Mark pantomimed his way through the greeting. They clasped forearms and then pulled each other in tightly for a hug.

At most, the Underbridge Clan would greet each other with the Sign of the Mother so it was definitely a more warm greeting than what he was used to but he liked it. Human customs were great!

His eyes went to the two long thin pieces of wood on Mark's shoulder. They were lined with a thin line and it took Samba a minute to place the tool. It was a fishing rod. None of the monsters in Igna had used them as you'd only catch monstrous fish, but it was another of those terms that Samba just knew. Many humanoid monsters dealt with that.

Maybe humans innately understood what some things were and humanoid monsters tapped into that? Samba wasn't sure.

"Scal! Opa!" Mark gestured for him to follow so he did. The two of them walked back out of the woods and towards the human village. Surely, they weren't going inside? There were armed humans on the walls and Samba started to grow nervous.

Had he made a mistake? Was this an ambush?

The humans on the wall started to shout towards Mark, but he just laughed and said something completely relaxed in his language. The other humans didn't relax at his words, but they also didn't do anything as they passed close by the walls and headed towards the ocean.

Out there was one of the small boats that was beached. Without words, the two of them pushed the small boat out into the water and they climbed inside. It was barely big enough for the two of them as big as they both were and Samba's wet fur soaked the inside of the boat.

"Ori?" Mark said pointing towards his fur. The only words that Samba had managed to learn yesterday was that "tal" seemed to mean "yes" and "ori" was "what is this".

"Fur?" Samba said, ruffling the dry fur on his shoulder.

"Furrr." Mark said, extending it as he tried to make his tongue work. He laughed again and then handed Samba one of the poles. He gestured as though casting the line out into the water. "Scal. Goode?"

"Good," Samba replied. "Scal" must mean "to fish" or "fishing" or something like that. It took Samba a minute to get the hang of how he was supposed to cast out the line, but he eventually got it. The strangest thing about human fishing was that most of it was just... waiting around.

If an Otter wanted a fish, they just jumped in the water, snagged it out, and then were done. This human method involved having bait on the end of a hook and just waiting for the fish to come to them. It seemed really inefficient.

And Samba loved it.

You were doing something, but at the same time, not doing anything. Sometimes, the two of them sat in an easy silence. Other times, Mark pestered him for words in the monster language. They rarely caught anything and when they did Mark tossed them into a big iron bucket that was filled with saltwater.

Still, it was one of the best days that Samba could remember having in a long time.

After a few hours, Mark tapped his shoulder and pointed out into the ocean. "Ori?"

For a moment, he thought he was just trying to learn the word for something new, but then he saw it. A small shadow was moving through the water towards them. Despite the size, his mind immediately went to the Kraken that they'd recently fought.

Samba stood up in the boat. Was Mark in danger?