The orc hadn't moved, aside from its rise and fall of breath. She had simply left it on her cot, which she wasn't satisfied with, noting that her bed would need washing. She'd removed the arrows, washed the wounds, and dressed them with salves and bandages. Some of the wounds were caused by her dragging them, mainly on the wrists which she had to tend.

She had heard that orcs were most dangerous for their knives and poisons, but she had been careful to check for any weapons. She hoped it would wake soon, it had been unconscious for a few days by then, and if it didn't wake up, it would likely starve or die from dehydration. Though it seemed to be breathing easier after some healing, she could see this as it took in a deep clear breath. It seemed to stir some, making her wonder if it was finally going to wake up. She figured if that was the case then it would need food, or else it may look in her direction. She set some broth to boil, leaving her to think.

She thought over all she'd heard about orcs. They were short, squat, and hideous. Fairly weak, but still dangerous. Looking at the creature on her bed, she wasn't certain she agreed with the description. It was indeed repulsive, and filthy, but it didn't seem to fit. This creature wasn't very squat and had received a fair bit of damage.

She filled a bowl with the broth, then moved toward the cot. Thinking about it, she had heard that orcs were hurt by sunlight, but she found it in the morning, the sun was certainly out, and in its condition, shouldn't it have had a heat stroke or something by now? She Was pondering on these things as she stepped beside the bed. As she did, a sudden crushing force closed around her throat. Her eyes met those of her no longer resting patient. Its lips were curled in a snarl, a low, throaty, growl rumbling through her.

She tugged at the hand desperately gulping for air. She held up the bowl, in an attempt to convince them that she was trying to help. She managed to wheeze out a simple "f-food..." but its expression was unchanged. Her ears were ringing, her vision was mingled with splotches of white, and her hand forgot how to fight.

The creature suddenly threw her away. For it, little more effort than swatting a fly, but it sent her falling flat on her back, gasping and coughing for air. Her vision and mind slowly cleared, as oxygen flooded her lungs. Her neck throbbed, but she was still too stunned to think about it. She figured she could handle an orc, and maybe she could, she had not taken into account that the creature she had, might not be an orc at all! She'd heard about a new race of beasts. Like orcs, but worse. She remembered the name Uruk-Hai... There was no way she could handle that!!

The beast didn't seem to be paying attention to her. She climbed to her feet, her mind still spinning. Could she kill whatever this thing was? She hoped so, but she doubted it. The creature was looking over itself, rubbing its wrists, its brows furrowed. It examined the bandages and healing wounds in apparent bewilderment. It rolled its shoulders, flexed its fingers, then began to rise from the bed.

This was definitely no orc. They were short and squat, this creature towered over her menacingly. That's perfect, she's going to die. She's going to die because she felt sorry for an orc. AN ORC!! She watched as it steadied itself on its feet and looked around the room. It moved to take a step and immediately had to catch itself on the wall.

She reflexively jumped to support the creature, but it simply pushed her away with a growl. It stood, propped on the wall, till it conceded, and sat back on the cot. She looked around for the bowl that had held broth. It lay on the ground, its contents spilled about. She quickly refilled it and moved back to the creature.

Rather than accept her help, it bared its teeth with a rumble. "It's just broth!" she reasoned. Wait, no, speak common. She repeated the statement in a more widely known language, but its expression remained unchanged. What does an orc speak? No, what does an Uruk-Hai speak? Damn it, how do you talk to something that cant understand you?!

She moved in front of its field of vision, which didn't seem to please it. She demonstrated by taking a sip of the stock, then offered it the bowl. It narrowed its eyes at her, but finally, it snatched the bowl away from her then turned its back to her. She sighed. "About time." she muttered. She gave the creature a moment to drink, though it didn't seem all too willing to do so. So far it had taken one forceful swallow and was just holding the bowl by the rim. She figured if it wanted to eat, then it would.

She watched it intently as she pondered on her next move. Its skin was an uneven black, mingled with mud, dirt, and blood. Its hair hung in long mats of similar cleanliness. Its shoulders were broad and heavily set, giving the impression that it could lift a tree from the very earth. It moved to stand once again, more carefully this time. She had taken the chance to subtly grasp a knife hiding it behind herself.

But instead of offer threat, or even acknowledge her, it began to move for the door. "What are you doing?" she questioned, it didn't seem to hear her, roughly knocking the door open. "Hey! You're in no condition to go waltzing off!" she moved to try and stop the creature, but it pushed her back. "Ugh, confounded creature! Fine, go get your silly self killed, save me some trouble." she muttered under her breath.

The creature seemed about to leave but stopped, leaning on the doorway. It looked over its bandages, then turned back to her. If she was concerned for her safety before, it was nothing to the moment the creature began marching in her direction. She tried to step back, but as she did, it thudded a heavy hand on the top of her head, holding her in place. From there, it reached around and pulled the knife from her hands, then turned away, and sat back on the cot.

She quietly watched as the creature cut away the bandages, letting them fall to the floor. At this, the creature seemed to grow more confused. The arrow holes had healed entirely o the outside, though there was probably still some healing left underneath. The slash mark would heal perfectly, but it for the moment had stitches left.

She wasn't quite sure why it looked confused, it knew she'd been treating it. She was coming to the conclusion that its only emotions consisted of annoyance and confusion. "If you go wandering off, the stitches will tear, and it'll scar." she explained, but it simply looked to her in confusion. Oh, right. How would she talk with this thing!? Damn creature. She finally has something to talk to, and it can't even understand her! Probably for the best though.