Page 34 of That’s My Orc, Tusk Off

A woman who could bake a mean cookie noticed when a male enjoyed sweets. I was already imagining how much he’d enjoy my peanut butter chocolate cookies.

When I offered him the plate again, he took four more cookies and arranged them in a line on the table. Chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, snickerdoodle, M&M. This male was organized even in his snacking.

I took three cookies and scattered them randomly on my side of the table.

His right eye twitched.

I bit into a cookie. Good, but not as good as mine.

He’d definitely enjoy my cookies more.

Traig turned to the screen, tapping on his tablet. “We should begin. I’ve prepared a presentation.” He frowned at the screen. “Of the program.”

The screen changed to a new slide.

Then another.

And another.

He’d prepared fifty-seven slides—or so. I wasn’t exactly counting. All color-coded. With subsections.

The first slide read, Teaching Human Young About Kingdom Creatures: A Structure for Learning.

I bit my lip.

By slide four, which detailed something he’d labeled, Creature Choosing Rules, I realized what was happening. Traig had built an entire academic thesis about teaching eight-year-olds about animals.

“So,” he said, advancing to slide five, “the behavior patterns show us which creatures can do well when many small humans are present⁠—”

“Traig.”

He paused, his finger hovering over the tablet screen. “Yes?”

“This is amazing work. It’s incredibly thorough.”

His shoulders relaxed.

“But we’re teaching this to third graders.”

His frown deepened. “Third-graders. This means…eight summers?”

“Eight or nine years old, yes.”

“Years. Summers.” He waved his hand. “I’m still learning your measurements. In the kingdom we count by—” He stopped. “It doesn’t matter. They’re young.”

“Very young.”

“But…” I gestured at the screen, which was currently showing an orc equivalent of a Venn diagram. “I’m not sure a child that young needs a diagram about how creatures change when humans are near.”

“Is that what this is called?” His frown deepened. “The circles that overlap?”

It was actually kind of brilliant when he explained it like that.

“You’re right about what it shows,” I said carefully. “But these are kids who think fart jokes are peak comedy.”

He tilted his head. “Fart jokes?”

“Jokes about…passing gas, through, um, their bottoms.” I tapped my hip.