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One week. One week and he was still here. One week and he still stuck to a place that was only going to fester and rot.

He'd looked over all the things he had in his plot of land. The things that he had stashed in here over the span of two years and the things he had just brought. The things that would have been helpful in the long term, and the things that would be helpful now. He couldn't carry everything in the sled that he had, obviously enough, so he had already pondered and decided what would come.

But his possessions, such as they were, weren't so many that he had managed to get all of that done days ago. And that, when he could have finished it all the day after he discovered that he had to go.

And yet, here Mark still was.

He'd managed to clean the mess the goblins had made in that time. He'd gotten all of the scattered odds and ends they had pulled out of his cellar and organized them in his manner just like they had been. And then, because he was taking the trouble, he started to lay down the things that made staying here in the mountains for long periods of time bearable.

His tent was still situated where he had put it, but every single inch of the floor was covered in sheets, blankets or furs. And this while knowing that it was a pain in the ass to pack all of that again. His food was similarly in various states of being de-salted, or ground down into patter that he could just put into stews and broths. His clothing, well, he'd brought his spares out and was currently planning on boiling them in water.

There was a stream not too far from there that made living in the area possible. It was progressively getting colder, so actually making a basin to wash them was getting more and more undesirable. He would still have done it, but if he brought out the basin, when would he actually leave?

Because he was actually looking at the standing walls of his house and wondering if he shouldn't finish the roof, anyway. Once he left, he wouldn't be coming back, but for the moment…

For the moment he was there, a week on, with his departure just a day away from happening every day.

And the longer it didn't happen, the longer it would take for him to really get ready to go.

A part of him derived a twisted sort of enjoyment out of this. Self-pity was quite sweet on small doses. There were quiet times, when he was alone, when the reality of the situation seeped in like the cold and twisted a knife into his guts. Times when he lost all motivation to keep moving on until hunger, thirst or the knowledge that the only thing that awaited him in this place was a harder time later on made him get up and do something.

If he'd done what he was supposed to do, what he should have done, he would already be back in town looking for something to do. Getting caught up on his next goals, or whatever managed to trap him. He would have been able to deny himself time to hurt.

But no, instead he was here, slowly stretching out his timetable and working on the carcass of a passion that was starting to frustrate him a bit.

And as much as he would like to deny it, the reason was obvious.

Katya.

He was completely certain that's what her name was. Similarly, he was almost certain she knew what his name was, given how much she used it, but the goblin could have as easily been using a general noun to refer to him. Or maybe a specific one? Did she know what humans were? Did they even have a word for them? Blegh, Mark was no linguist.

But he did understand her a little bit more day by day, with the little woman using more and more English words. Mark also understood more of the goblin ones she used, and used them to aid him in getting understood. For example, he had made damned sure she understood what “No" meant.

Also? The words “machete" and “rope". As in “No taking Mark's rope!"

Possessive nouns were a work in progress, really. But at least she didn't take the machete without Mark's permission anymore. Wish he could say the same about his rope. Because it wasn't as if his rope wasn't VITAL to his wildlife prospecting work, oh no. It wasn't like he hadn't splurged for the nylon stuff, or that he trusted his life with them when climbing dangerous spots. It wasn't like it was useful for a hundred things, even the ones that got him money like trapping. No, he just had it lying around so that tiny green ladies could come and snatch it up!

Sigh.

Regardless, that was the thing; she was, for whatever god-forsaken reason, sticking around.

For a whole week now, Mark had been waiting for her to leave before he finally packed everything up. Every time he found that she wasn't there with him, that she had disappeared from his homestead, he felt a painful pang in his heart followed by a sigh of relief as a burden lifted from his shoulders. Then, just as quickly, he felt a pang of frustration as his heart swelled up when she turned up with more mushrooms, small animals or herbs.

When he already had food, spices and furs.

The herbs were tasty and new to him though.

The point was, she just wouldn't leave. Aside from that Mark had absolutely no idea what to make of that, given that he had killed her friends, it felt…rude to simply pack up and go while she was still here.

What if she waited for him if he did?

That's…no. He would figure something out.

Probably.

Not like he had much choice but to, honestly.

But because she WAS here with him, it made him uncomfortable to live as spartan as he usually did when on the march. Katya still slept in his tent, using his jacket as a blanket. Or maybe he should say HER jacket? Because she had all but stolen it. It ticked him off, honestly, but…meh, he had had some furs that he had been working into cloaks, ponchos really, and now was as good a time as any to break some in.

No need to fight with someone he wasn't going to ever see again.

Point was, the goblin now had her own little spot inside the tent, with a pillowcase stuffed full of as much cotton as he could find. He'd made a chair for her from the planks and useless nails he now had. He'd even carved a set of plates and spoons for her. All because it felt wrong to benefit from all of these while she didn't.

Katya was like a guest that just wouldn't go, and Mark HATED guests.

There was also the fact that she could use a bath, too. But then, Mark hadn't taken a bath in a while either. He took sponge baths up here with water heated up in the fireplace, or the oven when he had it properly set up, but why arrange that when he was going to leave soon anyway, no?

“Thank god this still works," Mark hummed as he set the battery into a stand.

Unlike the rustic examples guys who had access to lead and waste acids from the chemical plant made, the Naval batteries would not suddenly burst into flames if you dropped them. All the same, they were high-capacity batteries, and that meant that, if he wanted to them to last, he had to take care of them.

Which was as easy as finding a corner of his now useless house and setting a tarp over the walls so that water wouldn't rain down on it.

And since he was at it, well, it was easy enough to finish a table he'd been working on, all it needed was the glue that he'd now brought, and voila, he now had a high point with good reception from which to place his radio on.

Connecting the two together and what did he get?

“A…n..t…we…ack. But before that, t..e news!" the radio garbled as Mark calibrated the radio's signal.

He'd been hoping for music, but this was good too.

“Admiral Johnson just held the Open Conference yesterday. To the surprise of no one, more people turned up than they did to our dear governor's State of the State. Not like it's not understandable; Johnson is by FAR the briefer of the two."

Mark sighed as he leaned back on Katya's little bench.

He'd been dreaming of doing something like this even before he started digging up the foundation of this house. Just…having his radio up as he kicked back and enjoyed the wild frigid beauty of these hills.

He'd have to pack up everything again, of course, and this would be the ONLY time he got to enjoy this, but maybe staying for a little had SOME perks.

Although he had a feeling this was just going to make things worse when he did leave. How would he live knowing that this was what he was missing out on? For the moment, he chose to ignore the question: the radio was on.

“-ands that's that folks. The Oars are going to the semis!" the radio crowed and Mark jerked out of a nap that he'd almost fallen into a while later.

Things were still bad. His dream was still ruined. He also still had to care of a little green lady. But this day had been, well, not too bad. To the point that he felt relaxed enough to just dose off

God, sometimes it felt like he was trying to ignore reality.

“-and-oh boy, hold on folks, I just got some news," the caster said, worry entering his voice, “Well, I don't want anyone to worry, but it appears a Griffon has been sighted in the mountains to the north."

Mark's comfort, which he had been cultivating all day long, vanished like the mist in the sun once his brain processed that.

“5 people are dead, and 11 are currently missing. The Admiralty has dispatched a team to keep a handle on the threat, but for the moment it is advised that our friends in the north keep to their homes and only move out in groups." the radio advised, “The Admiralty is willing to overlook any use of unreported old world firearms for the duration of this warning."

“Goddamn it," Mark muttered under his breath.

“I know a lot of people don't see what the big deal is, but don't let the environmentalists fool you; We drove the Gryphons out of the peninsula for a reason." the radio crackled, “And no amount of “wild majesty" is going to make getting your intestines pulled out feel any better."

“Goddamn it!" Mark groaned as he turned the radio off.

He was in the eastern part of the mountain range. Potentially hundreds of miles from wherever the Gryphon was. But it didn't matter.

The risk that it could pass by his homestead was too great to ignore.

Even if the Goblins hadn't proved that the spot was too dangerous to live in. Even if he wasn't already planning to go back to town…this would have, on its own, driven him to go back at least until the threat was over.

There used to be hundreds of Gryphons in these mountains in his youth. Amazing to look at it and see hunt, but not when they considered lone human beings to be as good eating as anything else.

Being the size of bears, these four-legged eagled-headed animals made for nightmarish predators. Because, to them, any person who wasn't surrounded by at least a dozen others within their immediate vicinity was considered fair game. And they were so voracious, that only a limited amount of them could be anywhere near each other.

The Gryphon might have been sited hundreds of miles away, but Mark knew that their range was potentially huge.

Because being a successful wildlife prospector wasn't so much about stumbling on valuable resources as it was about surviving long enough to benefit from whatever you managed to harvest out here in these parts where no one would hear you scream for help.

Knowledge made many things manageable. But no the fucking Gryphons.

So this was it.

Mark knew, sure as rain came down, that this was his wake-up call.

He had to return to Camp Town now.

And right then, and there, as he was heading to roll all his blankets, sheets and furs up, something turned up that made him forget all of that.

After almost a whole day of being gone, Katya was back here again.

But this time? She had in her hands the rope he'd told her “no" many, many times.

And she had, of all things, made it into a fucking net.

“What did you do?" Mark growled as he looked at the now ruined lattice of nylon fibers.

A smile was his response.

As well as pulling her huge green tits out.

Mark stared.

—-----------------------------------------------------

“Heeey big boy," Katya said as she displayed the sum total knowledge of seamstresses and fishermen of her tribe; a net, “Look at what I have!"

Now, all cave dwellers weaved and fished, that was true. A lot even had nets of their own. But her family's weave? That particular holy combination of rope in weaves was something of a closely guarded secret from not only her tribe, but also her caste.

Her family had produced few boys in generations, but no one could say they had contributed more to the tribe than Katya's family had!

And indeed, before her display of crafts-goblinship, before the clever twists and knots that she had made of the magical rope the giant man had, he could do nothing except stare at her.

She pumped her chest out too, as the sum total of techniques passed down from mother to daughter dazzled him. What was that called? Oh right, yes.

Technology.

She had, at long last, awed him with superior Clan Taza technology!

Katya had sort of forced herself into Tessen's gang when they had claimed that they'd found a lost cache of goods on the topside. One built a long-dead tribe, no doubt, given its unfinished state, using materials no one could really put a name to. It sounded a bit too fantastical to be true, of course, but given that Tessen had presented a nail made of grey copper? Well, he'd been granted some of their precious male folk to investigate.

Katya didn't care about any of that though. Simply put, Tessen's rise in the flamelight had made him handsome all of a sudden and getting the chance to stake her claim without any of the other bitches to throw a stone into her stew was simply too tempting a proposition.

And, hey, even if nothing came of it….it wasn't like the other boys weren't fantastically male too!

They were all dead now, of course. Killed by something better.

Katya was really happy with her male.

He was a little dumb, sure. What with not understanding a single word she said. But that was fine, she was working hard at getting him to understand a civilized tongue like hers!

As it was, not everything he said was complete gibberish. She understood what “no" meant which, for whatever reason, was a word he simply loved.

“Mark" the male called himself. He was something she had never seen. Something her tribe had never seen. Something, her people might have never seen.

He was like a bear given goblin form.

Tall as three men stacked upon each other. Wide as two men stacked side by side. White like the snow topside. Brown-haired like a majestic Rathing, the huge pack hunters that predated among the trees. Muscled like a wild feline, with a mane that went around his jaw to match.

Sure, he smelled a bit, and she had not seen a bathing spot anywhere, but oh, the thought of teaching him about hygiene, of showing him the benefits of regularly bathing, of lathering his naked body with some fresh soap, especially that HUGE snake between his legs, and getting her hands between his odds and ends…

Ah, right, she was presenting him with a net.

He growled a question out, making her shiver as the gravity of his words made her think of the danger she was in when she first met him. He had swooped down like a bloody avalanche, and she-she had dared to seduce him.

And succeeded.

That first fuck, brazen spirits, was like being a virgin all over again. It almost broke her body, turned her insides out, and broke her mind. But it didn't and she would not be happy with letting that remain a mere memory.

His scent was so strange but oh so recognizably male. She was already getting horny traveling with so many men, but there was more MAN in this male of hers than in all of Tessen's gang put together.

Oh, they would be a loss for her tribe, there were already too few men as it was, but with this man? She'd more than make up for it.

Binding strugglers to a tribe was an age-old tactic of the greatest of women, and Katya would prove that she was, indeed, among the best.

But it wouldn't do to just pull him into the caves. Putting aside that he was far too big for her to woman-handle, she didn't want to scare him away with the notorious sex drive of womenkind. Men could be lured in with sex, yes, but they were driven away just as often by increasing carnal demands.

She'd have to get hitched to him, Katya had decided. To shield him from all of those other overbearing bitches, of course.

But that was for later.

Now? Now she had to prove to him that she was worth his attention. Well, that and also teach him how to speak something that wasn't unintelligible gibberish.

“Alright," she smiled at him. She knew he couldn't understand her, but it was still important to get him used to the words. She gave them meaning by pulling her breasts out, “I got you a net."

“Now," she looked into his eyes, “Where is my reward?"

Mark frowned and, for a second, Katya worried that she'd gotten things wrong. That she had misunderstood him. That she had somehow, impossibly, erred.

But then he was kneeling in front of her.

Reaching out and grabbing her tits.

“Oooh, yes," Katya gleefully moaned, “Don't go easy, love. I deserve this!"

Truth be told, she would have been happy with a mere feel-up. Boys were always so easy to satisfy. But his hands filled themselves up with her mammaries, making her green skin disappear into his white skin. Green slipped through white gaps in his fingers and the dark green of her nipples elongated as his grip tightened.

“Don't stop!" she commanded him. Even though her male had fucked her like an animal, even though he had taken her like a bloody trophy cunt, she had been afraid that that was all it would amount to. That the heat of battle had made him reach a peak that he would never step into again.

But as he opened his mouth, and slurped her right dark green nipple, she realized that she need not have worried.

Her man was hungry and boy was she dinner~

“Harder!" Katya moaned as his lips closed around her nipples and sucked hard, almost as if he were trying to draw milk. But, oh, if he wasn't careful, that was precisely what he would be doing.

If he didn't watch himself, she would happily grow his children.

Actually, as she looked into his eyes, she considered pushing for another fucking. His eyes were so ravenous as he sucked her, that it made her believe that he wouldn't turn down another go at her womb.

But as his teeth sunk into the areola of her right tit, as he marked them with the white enamel of his maw, she realized that, well, that could wait.

“Dead stones, keep going," she hissed as drool started coming down her mouth. Because who was she to stop her man from almost literally eating her, really?

Having made her eyes almost roll, Mark popped her right nipple out of his mouth…and then sucked in her left one.

“Oooh, mark me Mark," Katya moaned as he did the same to her left breast as he right. He suctioned on her nipple so much that, despite being engorged with blood, she felt it get longer. His teeth pressed upon her areola and she bit her lower lip to not blow his ears out when they sunk into her tit flesh.

The abuse her breasts were subjected to made the pressure in her groin grow more and more. She had yet to yelp any kids, but she was willing to bet no litter would put as much strain on her as simply being available to this male~

He was looking at her, she realized. He was looking at her with those sapphire-blue eyes. She could see the lavic heat in them. So unrestrained and willing to BURN her.

Such a surprise coming, from all things, a man.

He popped her nipple out as he held her gaze. Saliva connected the crown of her breast to his lips as he choked his grip on her tits, moving them down until he was holding her chest fruit by their end. His thumb and forefinger slid up to the tips of her areola and then, putting pressure that sent delicious electric pain up her spine, the male pinched her nipples.

It was improper. It made her pride as a woman brittle. It made her doubt herself.

All the same, she came.

“Oooh dead stones!" Katya fell to her knees as she tried to press her thighs together, her release soaking her legs as her fluids made their way to her toes.

She could feel a blush creep up on her green face, to see how her male would take her coming so easily. Males didn't like it when sex took too long, but she hadn't even pleasured him yet!

This bode ill for their future.

But instead of looking at her with the casual embarrassment that she expected, he was instead reaching for her knees and…and-

He was separating her legs.

“What are you doooiiiiING!" Katya sang as he spread her legs, a web of liquid threads made of her female jizz spreading through her crotch.

And then he, despite Katya not having bathed in nearly 2 weeks, lowered his head into her crotch.

And took a whiff.

She stared at him in disbelief when he didn't gag or make noises of displeasure. No, instead he grunted pleasantly before going down again and, what the fuck, kissing her there!

“What are you doing?" Katya moaned. It was supposed to be a complaint but, in truth, she didn't want him to stop.

The warmth of his lips and the moisture of his breath. The way he separated her vaginal petals and sucked on her slit. The way he gave her smooches that made her clench her fists as he, once more, devoured her.

This was the sort of thing a woman did to a man when the man didn't have a choice. This was the sort of act no male would ever freely admit to having done to anyone else. And yet, here this man was, grazing on her as if she were mushrooms!

Her hand twitched as his lips locked over her clit as she considered the chances that she could get away with her impulse. But when he started sucking on her little girl, well, her hands flew out and grabbed him by his brown hair.

“DON'T STOP!" she yelled as the pressure in her crotch came back with a vengeance.

His tongue started penetrating her slit and going inside of her, licking and sucking her juices into his mouth. She heard him slurping her up, consuming her fluids as he worked on her clit more and more.

In return, she ground his face into her crotch, using him like a stone to wear away at her cunt.

Climaxing twice in such a short time was shameful, but her male gave her no choice.

“MAAARK!" she moaned as she wrapped her legs around his head and pulled his face as hard as she could into her cunt. Then she shuttered as another orgasm made her shiver.

Even with all of that, Mark kept on sucking her, drinking her nectar as far as it came out. He was looking at her, she realized, as she gripped his hair and clenched her teeth.

He drank as if it were nothing. He consumed her fluids as she made eye contact with him.

With one last shutter, Katya let go of his head as she splayed herself into the dead tree floor.

“Kat-ya?" the male asked with uncertainty in that slow lumbering way of his.

“I'll be fine," she sighed, “J-just, um, just give me a moment."

She was considering the value of pushing her luck when something incredible happened.

Mark stood up to his unbelievable height and leaned over one of the shiny, if boring, boxes that he had. The tip of his elbow pressed down on it and then he was jerking away from it as something “clicked".

And voices started coming out of it.

“Tupid kismo," he said in that low voice of his. And then he blinked when Katya was on her feet, next to him.

Voices were coming out of the box. They were speaking the same gibberish that Mark did, but voices were coming out of the box!

Little lights were coming from the box too as long ropes connected the box to another box that ALSO was lighting up.

She stared at Mark in awe as she mentally slapped herself for undeservingly thinking less of him.

Of course, not everyone could be as advanced as her tribe. But what did it matter for beings like Mark? They had magic!