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Ah, magic. Wonderful magic.

Was it the spirits of the air, being compelled to act and do things a certain way? Maybe the unspoken dead could reach out from the other side and be made to do something for free? Maybe there were unwritten laws, unseeable powers, that only the talented and gifted could tap into?

Goblins had come across many suppositions and answers, yet their shamans were limited in what they could do, and their items of power were rare in quantity and potency. Maybe they would never find the words of power the people from outside so much boasted off…but what did it matter?

When Katya had the Box of Whispers?

Technically, it was the Box of Whispers, Yelling, Talking, Singing and Playing Absolutely Strange Noise That Her Male Tapped His Foot To As If It Were Music, but she liked calling it Box of Whispers for short.

“Ra-dio", like her huge male called it, was a bit too foreign for her taste.

Ever since she had discovered it, she had spent countless hours sitting beside it and seeing it work. She'd looked and investigated from every single angle and, little by little, peeled away its secrets.

It had many bold-facing protrusions that sunk into depressions along the length of the Box, like a toy. And most of these did something, Katya thought. The meaning of them was opaque to her, of course, for she was no Witch, but meaning could be wrought all the same.

The most important discovery she had made was the two knobs that it had. One that lowered or raised the volume of the noise coming from the artifact. And the other to change the noise.

Which she did. Often!

There WAS the matter that she was, essentially, hugging her male's magic box to herself. It wasn't something that made her proud, no, but how could anyone resist the draw of an actual magical artifact?

How could any hot-blooded woman not appreciate the possession that her male had?

How could she not fawn over the device?

A week had passed since her discovery and she had to be careful how she went about it now. Her male had gotten fed up with her exploration of the Box, and had, in the crudest of ways, made her understand that he didn't want her fooling with it.

With words, even.

“No Ra-dio," he had grunted at her and stared her down until she noted that she had understood. Honestly, she was probably learning his gibberish significantly faster than he was learning proper Cave Tonguing, but she supposed it was a good thing they could sort of make themselves understood now in the most basic of ways.

Or she would if he wasn't using that to deny her the Box!

Still…it wasn't altogether TOO bad. Mark wasn't around the resting spot all the time. When he went to collect snow, firewood or went to play with those intimidating grey iron hooks of his, she could just sneak right in and fiddle with the magical device at her leisure.

She could stare at the long laces that connected the box to other boxes. She could stare at the magical lights that it gave when it was working, and wonder at the arcane meaning of the symbols that it presented. She could marvel at the onyx black material that it was made out of, looking as hard and shiny as metal, but feeling like particular featureless wood.

She could poke at the glass that it had, but not too hard, and feel the heat that came from it. She could sniff the air and smell the hint of a storm just in that little room when it worked.

Admittedly, she was probably overdoing it. She let a whole week pass without putting into motion many of her plans. Like bathing her huge log of a man. But she could always do that later. As for herself? Well, yes, she was desperately uncomfortable with her lack of hygiene. Boiling her clothing to clean it up was only really possible because of the huge grey copper pots her male had, but that still left her body unattended. And splashing herself with water had only been a temporary solution weeks ago.

She had been saving some of the fat from the things they cooked to make some nice soap…but the box just commanded so much of her time.

There was also the matter of what her family and tribe thought of her back home. One of the boys, Dun, had escaped her male's murder rampage, so surely he would have told them that they left her here. She didn't originally see that as much of a problem, since she was sure that she could have bound this huge male to her skirt and then victoriously marched right into her home.

Of course that didn't happen, but she was utterly sure that if he spoke properly she could have done that within days of meeting him. As it was, she was just going to have to hope that her sisters didn't claim all of her stuff.

But even assuming the worst it would still be worth it; someone of Mark's Strength, Stature and Magical knowledge would have been a boon to her tribe and, as the one responsible for bringing this male in, she would have risen in both dignity and influence among her folk.

Oooh, binding and bringing an outsider male that she didn't need to fight over with her friends or elders was the dream of many a girl, and she would feed those fantasies for generations to come!

But if she was honest with herself, she suspected that it would take until she began to get fat with her male's children for her to have a chance at doing that. As things went, not an unheard-of thing for a tribeswoman to have to do.

And yet she'd not made any more headway into that.

She wanted some sex, honestly, but the box….the box was right there.

“No" it would sometimes say, but with less frequency than it came out of her male's mouth.

“Yes" she would recognize from time to time, way more frequently than her male indulged.

“Cook", “Jacket", “Cold" and “Machete" were also words she'd come across, but it was hard to be sure of that; the magic box spoke too fast for her to be certain.

That's why she had to find out more! That's why she had been with the box so much. Understanding seems like just a step out of her reach. Magic literally within her grasp.

That's why-that's why she needed to be here.

That's why-

Heavy steps interrupted her train of thought.

For the most part, Katya had a keen sense of hearing that allowed her to know when her male was nearby. Predators and dangers too, but she was a woman getting her male, and some risks were thereby inherent.

For the last week, she'd managed to slink away when he wasn't here, and had managed to, reluctantly, sneak out when he was coming back. She bugged him for the radio when he was present, of course, but that was not a sure thing. Why bother him with the choice when she could satisfy her curiosity without upsetting him at all?

But today it seemed she had misjudged things. Was the wind particularly strong today? Had she turned the volume on the magical box too loud?

Had she simply been too engrossed this time?

Well, it didn't matter.

She turned around and-oh.

She expected him to be angry with her. He could be ornery like that. She expected some shouting, like one of her sisters might have done. She even expected to walk up here and give her a smack, like any male would do.

What she didn't expect was him looking so tired.

So disappointed.

It then struck her how much she had been fucking up until then.

For the last week, she had not been cooking. For the last week, she had not been mending. For the last week, she had not been weaving or even just trying to make this home of her man comfortable for them both.

For the last week, she'd been just…paying attention to the magic box.

In her conceit, she had fully justified her failure without even realizing what that failure fully was. Because she had not failed at just doing all of those things, no.

She had failed as a woman. And not just that, but one that was merely courting too.

But more than that, she'd failed her male.

“I am sorry," Katya said as she looked at the floor.

She held back the tears of shame that were threatening to burst out of her eyes, but it was a hard thing to do with the enormity of all she'd done. What had she been thinking?

“I am so, so sorry," she sniffed as she walked towards him.

Because it wasn't enough to ask for forgiveness no.

She reached out towards him, and enveloped his stomach with her arms, as far as they would go across his bulk. She squeezed her boobs into his legs and tried to communicate her sincerity with just the strength of his hug.

“I am sorry," she said again, looking up at his face, hoping that he understood what she was trying to say.

—----------------------------

Mark was more than a bit annoyed.

Honestly, angry was a pretty good way of putting it.

One whole week. One whole week of not being able to hear his music all because his lover/goblin/roommate WOULDN'T LET HIM HEAR HIS SHIT!

Oh, it wasn't enough that she rendered half of all his rope useless with that stupid net. Or that she still nibbled on his machete every now and then. No, she also had to hog, and DRAIN, his radio half the time!

Honestly? He could have put up with that. He could have. If she had just left it on whatever channel she liked, well, he might have considered boring whatever it was on, but it would have still been the nice distraction that he imagined the radio to be when he was doing tedious chores.

But no.

Katya was always fiddling with the goddamned channels!

After just one week, he was at the end of his patience. Good god, she'd reminded him why he wanted to live like a recluse!

He was honestly thinking about kicking her out of his house…except his house was less a house and more like four walls barely put together with a shitty roof that was probably going to fall one of these days. It had no door, no windows, and huge uncovered spots above. So the difference between his house, and the “outside", wasn't really a clear one.

So he would, hmm, the fireplace? Yes, he was going to banish her to the fireplace!

At least when it wasn't raining, or too cold, or when they were about to sleep or…god, what was he even doing?

Mark had never lived with a woman, or a goblin, and he didn't know if this was just part of it. But he'd lived with enough other guys that he knew he wasn't too hard to live with, surely? Were there no ways to win here?

He should have left when he got the Gryphon warning, honestly. Now, THAT was something that kept him up at night.

Even just going back to town at this point would have posed a risk, because the range of Gryphon was huge and it could have intercepted him, all alone, on the way there. Not a high chance, but it could have happened. Yet he was standing by, letting the danger grow and grow until there came a point that no choice would be a good one.

And all because, if he left, he would be leaving this stupid tiny green woman behind.

They were able to communicate better now. But that was the same as saying that a lame dog was better than one that couldn't walk. Not much of an improvement, even though it was.

He couldn't tell her, communicate with her, of the danger that was up there. He could tell her that he was leaving, but not why. So what if he left and she stayed here, waiting for him?

What if he left and the Gryphon came upon her?

He didn't like the thought. He knew better than to be here, yet he couldn't bring himself to grab his things and go.

Not until he at least KNEW that annoying green cunt wouldn't be dying.

So he stuck around, tried to see if he could put his “new net" back into a proper rope, but Katya hadn't so much made a net as she had made a series of Gordian Knots with lines between them. So he had taken his remaining rope, fished out his climbing hooks, and checked to see if he could even still do his job.

To his relief, he had enough plurality of rope that he'd be able to get to the cliffs where some of his more valuable plants resided. Not the iron ones, no, but there were other plants with interesting properties that he'd identified. Also, bird nests and animal holes.

So, despite his annoyance, he was feeling something of a good mood today. The Gryphon might appear out of the sky any second now and shred him to bits, but at least he'd be able to do his Wild Life Prospecting job if he didn't!

And then he found Katya playing with his radio. And that, when he wasn't there.

He should have expected it really, no reason not to mess with his shit when he wasn't around to say “no", but it still caught him by surprise.

The battery that he had spent so much money and the radio that he had bought when he was forced to buy medicine for his brother's absolute dipshit of a father. No, he couldn't even own the things he bought.

He supposed he should be angry but…

Honestly, he was just so tired.

He was at least going to put into motion his idea to kick her out to the fireplace. Maybe even see if he could make a door to lock the house. He would be letting her inside when night came so that she wouldn't freeze, of course, but he had to do something.

But just as he was about to do it, as he was about to use whatever mastery that he had attained in her tongue as well as all the English he suspected her to know, Katya looked down on the floor and, somehow, became smaller.

Tinier. More fragile.

One second, he was talking to a fun-sized grown-ass woman. The next he was about to kick a puppy in the ribs. It stopped him cold.

And then she walks towards, crestfallen and almost moribund.

Her arms encircle his waist, her form warm and her breasts soft on his legs.

And she looked at him. Good god, she looked at him.

Her eyes are as wide as they got, and her hourglass pupils shined with tears about to be shed.

“Seme segan, am I," she said, her words so, so familiar that he could almost understand some of it.

But she didn't need to put any meaning to her words when her eyes said so much more.

“Seme segan-gan, am I," she repeated, her tone regretful and her pain so sharp that it stabbed at Mark's heart.

So…he couldn't kick her out. He just couldn't. But he still had to do something.

“You can't keep doing this," he softly told her, even though she wouldn't understand, “It's pissing me off, and that's just a goddamned radio."

“What'll happen when it's something that matters?" he asked her, before he had time to fully process what he had just said.

It was from the heart, said in the moment when he knew damned well there was no future for him here or for her.

But she looked at him as if she understood. There is a relieved smile on her face, as well as a shy tilt to her hands as they slide back from her hug and-huh.

In one smooth motion, she had pulled down his pants and slid out his dick.

“I already forgave you," Mark said and, in doing so, realized that he had, “You don't have to do this."

But the goblin didn't know enough English to understand that.

As the radio played on a tune from the old world, some somber-sounding music that wasn't usually his speed in a station that he would normally never have tuned into, his goblin put a hand on the side of his hip as her other took his small weiner and made it big.

His cock, which was roused from its slumber as green fingers closed around his shaft and pumped up and down, slowly gained its hefty girth.

He'd beaten his dick off to the memories of the delicious taste of her pussy as well of her tits, but just her hand was getting him hotter than reminiscence could.

Soon enough, Katya's hand could no longer lock around his shaft as his donger came to its full foot in length. Not that it mattered to the goblin one bit, as she glided her hand to the end of his shaft.

Her webbing between her thumb and forefinger caught in the neck of his mushroom head and made him stifle a moan as she grabbed his foreskin…and started peeling it back.

“B-be careful," he grunted, his hands twitching, as she managed to get his foreskin below his glans. It wasn't a problem, usually, but then he usually peeled it back before his dick got fully erected. Not that he did that when he sort of raped Katya the first time they met…but then, he was too wired up to even feel it he supposed.

The sound of oil parting as his peeled foreskin revealed a light layer of skin oil trapped underneath his foreskin.

Katya looked at it for a second…then shrugged as her hand glided over it and used it as lube.

Her hand compressed the oil into his glans, making him moan as her grip tighten as much as it could without impeding her ability to pump his cock.

Her slow laborious pumps became vigorous full dicked swings, getting down to the base of his cock and then going up to the tip of his dick.

She was still looking at him, he realized. As she pumped his cock, as she made his testicles start to clench, she was still staring at him with a happy, relieved smile on her face.

“I, augh, I'm coming!" Mark grunted as he was mere seconds away from blasting.

And Katya?

“Good," she said in plain, if accented, English.

Mark blew his load.

He groaned as his testicles drove seed into his shaft. Semen flew out with each squeezing of his orgasm, Katya pumping to the beat of his spurts, as she made him make a small puddle of sperm down on the floor.

“T-that's, hmmm, enough," Mark groaned when he spurted his last…but his goblin still put a finger below his shaft, and led some leftover sperm to come out of his cock.

“Lata!" Katya brandished her semen-glazed finger, the one she'd used to draw out the last bit of cum, and then slowly licked it as she stared at him with satisfaction that was, perhaps, as big as the one he'd just felt.

After a whole day of climbing some steep hills with nothing but hook and rope, his legs couldn't really take the exhaustion he felt then, so he reached for a chair and pulled it under him.

And then, because she was still looking at him as if she had resolved everything, he pulled her with him.

“No?" she said as Mark placed her on his legs.

His pants were still around his thighs even as he put her delicious derriere just above his limp cock. Given how much she'd squeezed out of him…well, he wasn't going to get a hard-on yet.

All the same, he circled his arms around her waist and hugged her back to his stomach, her head pushing against his chest.

And all the while, soft music wafted tender notes here and there.

Katya squirmed a bit, but when she looked up to see Mark's face of contentment, she relented and simply rested her head against his pecs as Mark finally got to relax in his own home, to his own radio.

“We interrupt this cast to bring some news," the radio chose that moment to kill the moment.

“Fuck you," Mark breathed.

“Fuck…you?" Katya repeated

“No, no that's a curse," Mark chided her, “No need to repeat it."

“...no?" Katya asked.

“No," Mark confirmed.

“The Admiral has dispatched a team out to the north. God alone knows if we still have some reconnoiter aircraft, but the admiralty assures us that the Gryphon menace WILL be found and be put down with the professionals so assembled." the jockey kept on talking, managing to grab Mark's full attention.

“Wildlife experts who answered the government's call have joined trappers and Navy crossbow marksmen," the man kept on reading, “The ETA of the operation? One whole week."

Mark tightened the hug that he had around his goblin and as a breath exploded from him.

“Thank god," he earnestly said as he put his chin upon Katya's brown hair.

“Meanwhile, 18 more people have reported attacks, with 8 of them dead. The lack of firearms has led to criticism of the Governor and the Admiral, who are blamed of caring more about bullets than they do…" the radio trailed off as Mark thought about things.

A lot could happen in a week, but even a Gryphon's response to being hunted appeared to be confrontation at every turn. But who knows, they had killed so many that maybe this one had learned to turn tail instead? Either way…

Either way, maybe staying here wasn't a death sentence anymore.

All the while Katya was looking at him with a question clear in her face, before she appeared to arrive to a conclusion.

A victorious grin sprouted on her face.