Zyrian had always been huge. Always. From the time they found him. As an infant child he was born muscular, too large. He was found with his dead mother, in the woods. It was plain to see she had died giving birth to him. The scouts from the tribe found him there, crying and dying. They looked at one another wondering if this was something that nature had intended. A red skinned large baby... Just then a bear... came walking over... toward the body. The body was still fresh... It must have smelled the meal. The boy still covered in fluids including his mother's blood... The male scout began to turn away but the female's motherly instincts kicked in and she began to walk forward blowing a loud whistle. The bear begins to stop for a moment... the scout takes a large cowbell and begins rattling it as the bear turns away from the noise... walking back into the woods, not having gotten close enough to fight for this meal.

  The female druid picks up the baby boy... already muscular with a 6 pack... unnatural.. even amongst half orcs. his arms were too large, and his body too tall... "I'm going to call you... the bear..." she says quietly, in druidic. The male scout walks forward and looks down at the mother, and begins to search her. "The others will be unpleased at our interference." he says. "I'm sorry Talin.. it's just.. We've been trying so hard, I could not watch this little cub die..." Talin flips the mother over.. and begins searching her backpack. "There's a blanket here. It's embroidered Zyrian." She looks back down at her mate. "Embroidery? what was she doing in the forest..." He shrugs, he continues searching and finds a small picture framed. It shows the woman next to a man, both normal sized... petite if anything. "...This probably isn't the father... the child is too big. He must at least have orc in him." Says Talin standing. "I see no signs of orc in him. No anger... no flailing. His skin is a red tan... half orcs tend to be pale... or green." she says. "Sometimes pitchblack... he doesn't look orcish at all." She continues. Talin just looks at her recognizing the bond immediately formed... her reaching down and touching his chest and him reaching up and holding her hand, eyes barely able to open. "..." He looks down at the dead mother and knows she'd want a good home for him, then looking back at the blanket. "..." She looks over at Talin.

  "...Linda... That baby will not live long without nourishment..." He says. Linda lights up with motherly happiness and comes closer to Talin. "Thank you..." she utters in happiness. "Come on. Bring... Zyrian." He says walking up toward the treeline stepping through the brush. Linda hurries behind him. "He'll have orc in him watch, second his teeth come in they'll be sharp." Talin says hesitantly, as an elf, being worried about this. Linda is only half-elf, and not as in touch with her elven roots. But Talin is quite afraid of bringing an orc home. "I do not think he is half-orc Talin... I can just tell... Even if he were... it would only be half..." Talin just looks away as they head up the trail... heading into the snowy forest.

  The others were not pleased not one bit. Their interference with nature was quite unwelcome, just as Talin had correctly expected. But Linda had grown a mother's attachment already, and they understood. Linda and Talin had been trying to have a baby for a long time. Perhaps this was nature's plan all along? Who knows. But Zyrian grew up happily in his town. Though strong, and large, he was never looked down on, even amongst other children. None are more cruel than children, and even they loved Zyrian. Zyrian had a sort of understanding of everything, a strange comprehension. Not intelligence... but wisdom. When children fought over food, he'd break the food in half. When they fought over a toy... he'd give the toy to the most deserving, then hand one of his own toys to the other child. This caused the other children to go from fearing him to respecting him. Growing up, his father would teach him the ways of the bow and arrow, but he quickly rejected them. While this angered Talin, it was that same respect that caused his father to accept this. Linda knew Zyrian would be something special... she taught him. One particularly cold winter... when Zyrian was 8 years old, Though he looked to be 12 easy... and buff to boot. He was fishing with his father Talin. Few fish had gone by. When a pack of wolves began to circle around them... his father is holding the net. If he lets go, especially in times as hard as these, it would mean not only the loss of his net... but the loss of the haul of fish they needed to survive. "Z-Zyrian!" Talin yells. "The bow! quickly stand your ground!" Zyrian looks down at his father's bow and then back at his father who's nodding his head "Hurry!!" he says. Zyrian whips around toward the wolves... The wolves are circling... barking. Baring their fangs, intimidating. Trying to get Zyrian and his father to move, to run, so they can go in and kill... Zyrian glares back at the wolf and roars. "RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" planting his hands into the snow, getting a similar stance as them... baring his teeth. "RAAAAAAGH! RAAAAAAAAA!" He says angrily in a deep, throaty boom. The wolves back up a bit, unsure of what to do, still barking back, and baring their own fangs. One wolf comes forward though... feeling challenged. What Zyrian doesn't realize... but is about to find out... by acting like a wolf... he has them believing he is one. He's challenged the Alpha male. "S-...son... just use the bow!" His father says. Zyrian instead mimics the alpha male... stepping forward... lifting his hand as though it were a paw.. "ErrrRRRrgggrrrrr...RaAAGH!" he barks. Walking in a circle almost on his knees, like an olypmic runner just before the gunshot, his body hunched over... his knees just above the snow... his hands in the snow as he walks unnaffected. The male barks back... the rest of the pack staying back... their ranks broken... The wolf dives in at Zyrian going for the face. Zyrian breaks his mimicing and brings his fist straight into the wolf's mouth, not in an uppercut, but not taking the time to pull his arm back either, just bringing his fist directly forward from the snow, into his mouth. The wolf's fangs sink into his hand piercing deep. Zyrian pulls his hand downward, as the wolf shakes his head, looking to deal further damage now that his grip is sustained, maiming his knuckles. Zyrian brings his other fist up from the snow, fully bringing his elbow back and then brings it down on the back of the wolf's skull. Punching it right in the neck with all his strength. The wolf begins to loosen his grip, and he brings his fist up again, "RRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" Letting out a bellowing roar as he brings his fist down a second time, the wolf releasing his grip on zyrian's fist and backing up, finally intimidated, his head aching from the conflict. Zyrian looks at the other wolves in the pack and resumes his stance, blood pouring in the snow, but him showing no signs of weakness. "RRRRRRRRRRAGH! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" Letting out a large, primal scream, bringing his chest forward and roaring loudly with his fangs exposed. People in the village hear the roar, even, and they are very distant. The wolves back off losing interest... Talin watches in awe...

 That evening on the return home, net barely filled with enough fish... to survive the icy winter. Talin knows that Zyrian saved the lives of both of them... not only by fighting the wolves.. but by ensuring the catch.. He might have even saved the lives of the entire tribe. Talin looks down at modest Zyrian's hand... whom hasn't even been treated, only loosely wrapped.. bones look broken in it. Instead of cleaning it, he instead opted to help his father secure the net, and carry it home, knowing a bear would come at the smell of blood. "Zyrian..." his father says. "Why did you not use the bow...?" He asks. Zyrian looks at Talin and says quietly "Did the wolf... have a bow father?" Talin silently thinks for a moment. "No but... the wolf has fangs..." Zyrian quietly replies "So do I." They continue toward the Tribe, as Talin silently contemplates Zyrian's outlook. Once they arrive... "Zyrian.. go share the fish with the others... let me tell your mother of what happened." Zyrian nods "Yes father." he pulls the fish net over to the waiting others as Talin talks with Linda. She looks terrified... then amazed... Zyrian does not even watch them. He merely worries about ensuring the survival of the others.

  Later that night his father prepares a fish to be eaten. His mother cleans and treats his hand lovingly. "Cub... This will leave a scar." Zyrian looks at his mother. "A scar? what is a scar?" She wraps his hand aligning bones... "A scar happens when your body is wounded severly enough... that it does not want to forget what happened." Zyrian looks down for a moment... "Why mother..?" She looks at him and replies "Every scar happens for a reason... every scar has a story. And every story has a lesson. Your body wants to make sure you never forget the lesson you learned." Zyrian looks up at her amazed... then back down... "I could have killed those wolves today mother... With the bow." he says. Linda stops for a moment... she opens her mouth to speak but Zyrian looks up at her and continues "but I chose not to... the wolves... attacked us... not to be cruel... only because.. they were hungry... just like us. We went to fish... because we were hungry. How are they any different than us? I spoke with wolves today... I spoke their language... I told them.. we were the same... and they listened. Today I learned... that if you speak nature's language... it will hear what you have to say." Linda sits awestruck at his wisdom... completely blown away... Zyrian thinks to himself... 'I'm glad my body... never wants to forget this lesson... because I don't either...' Linda turns to look at Talin... not knowing what to say. Talin looks back at her over his shoulder smiling. Though he doesn't speak... Linda knows exactly what he's thinking... That taking Zyrian in was... the right choice. She smiles and looks down tearing up a bit. She looks back at Zyrian helping him to wrap the rest of his wounds. Zyrian looks up at his mother... not questioning her tears... because he knows they are tears of happiness.. and he'd rather let her enjoy them, than interrupt them with a question.