A wildman and a kobold: chapter 2

	Night brought with it a chilling air which swept from the mountains to the south over the forest.  It was good, then, that the trapper was already back in the cabin, and his wounded companion nestled under the warm furs of his bed.  He had checked the bandages over once again, so to make sure there was no more bleeding before removing them.  He also applied some herbal remedies for pain and infection, then re-wrapped the wound.  The whole ordeal did not take that long, from finding the kobold to bringing it back to the cabin, but the hunger pangs reminded the trapper that he had not eaten since noon.  Thankfully for him, he already had a pot of stew brewing on the fireplace.
	His cabin was well lit thanks to the moderately sized fire.  He looked over to the passed out kobold, finally able to get a good look at it without the urgency of having to provide aid.  The kobold was about two thirds his height with a grayish-green hue to its scaly skin.  Each hand had five digits adorned with small, but sharp claws.  On its head, two rows up small upwards scales lined the top sides of the skull.  With the rest of the kobold covered, though, he would have to wait to examine it further.  The little he knew about kobolds was from a, at the time, scary picture book he saw as a child.  Up close, though, he knew the picture book embellished what a kobold looks like.
	“I knew y'all didn't have 4 inch claws.  Them pictures were all wrong.  Never trusted them myself.”  He said to himself in a whisper.  He smiled as it confirmed city folk didn't have all the knowledge of the wilds in their fancy books.
	The man moved towards his kitchen table, and grabbed a carved wooden bowl complete with wooden spoon, and ladled himself a helping of the thick stew.  Steam rose from the bowl, as the hearty aroma fills his nostrils.  His stomach grumbled in delight of the upcoming meal, and his mouth began to slightly water.
	“Mrrrmmm.”  The kobold muttered as it tried to roll over in the bed.  Doing so put pressure on its wound, causing it to yelp.  Waking up quickly, the kobold found itself in a strange place.  Its eyes widened, its head craning both left and right to gauge where the heck it landed itself this time.  It wasn't until the kobold's eyes recognized the human did it stop.
	With a goofy smile, the man spoke up first.
	“Hey little fella.  Are you feeling better?”  He said in a happy tone.  The kobold however, did not move, as if frozen in place.  Unaware of where it was, unaware of the man's true intentions, lower instincts kicked in.
	“You...alright in there?”  The man said, head cocked.  Still the kobold did not answer.
	“Well look, I bet you are hungry.  You need this more than I do right now.  Gatta build up your strength.”  With that, the man walked toward the bedridden kobold.  He outstretched the bowl towards the kobold.
	Still in a state of fear, the kobold didn't move a muscle.
	“Look, its yummy.  its good for you...I think.  Not sure what you eat, but heavens I can't think of anything that doesn't like my stew.”
	To show the kobold what he was trying to do, he brought the bowl up to his nose, inhaled loudly, sighed, and rubbed his belly.  Then he made chewing motions.
	'That did the trick.' The man thought to himself as the kobold started to move from its catatonic state.  Mimicking what the man did, it rubbed its belly too.  He tried to give the bowl to the kobold once again, and this time, the kobold took it, sitting it on its lap.
	“Now I have a rule about eating on the bed, but I think I can break it this time.”  The man chuckled to himself.  The kobold just quizzically stared at him, before looking down at the, what was for the kobold, a feast.
	The kobold took its hand and dipped it into the stew, plucking out a floating piece of meat and tossing it into its mouth.  From the light of the fireplace, many of the kobold's sharp teeth flashed brilliantly.
	“You got some fine chomper if I do say so.  Here, this might make things easier.”  The man gave the kobold the wooden spoon he was holding.  The kobold took the spoon, and placed it in its mouth sideways, as it had done with the stick prior.  Its eyes took upon a pleading look, almost as if it were full of fear once again.
	“Oh nono.  See you use it to...”  The man was cut of by a series of small gutteral sounds from the kobold.  It took the spoon out of its mouth and placed it into the stew, but continued to laugh.
	“You...that was a joke.  That was pretty good!”  He said, finally laughing with the wounded kobold.
	“I think you are pretty alright.  Well eat up.  I only got one bowl and I'm hungry too.”
	The kobold dug into the feast before it, greedily devouring every piece.  When all the chunks were gone, it held the bowl up and drank the rest of the stew, looked at the man, who was quite happy someone, or something, enjoyed his cooked.  The kobold rubbed its belly and gave a big toothy smile to the man, before returning the bowl.
	“Yez.”  The kobold said happily.
	The man quickly filled the bowl again, and dug in himself.  The kobold took this time to undo the covers covering its leg.  In its mind, it worried about seeing a still fresh gushing wound.  Instead, though, it found fresh bandages and a faint smell of drying herbs.  The kobold sighed a sigh of relief
before letting itself fall back on the comfy bed.  Its head turned towards the man, who was unceremoniously devouring his meal.  When the man was finished, the kobold waved its clawed hand, trying to get his attention.
	“T'ass anore.”  The kobold said.  It pointed at its bandaged leg.
	“What?”
	“T'ass anore.  Thu'la ita dregg.”  The kobold pointed at the now empty bowl, “T'ass anore.”  Then it rubbed its belly once again.
	“If you mean to say thank you, don't worry about it.”  The man, happy with himself, walked over to the kobold, and gave her a pat on the head.
	“Ksssss.”  The kobold hissed with face scowled.
	“Oops.  Sorry, sorry!”  The man backed away a little from the kobold, not wanting to cause another incident.
	The kobold rubbed its head, before returning its gaze on the man.
	“K'as tala du.”  It said softly, forcing a smile.  Putting his hands up, the man then smacked his hand with the other, then brought them to his side.
	“I won't do that again.  See?  We sort of understand each other.”  He said with a smile which was promptly returned.
	The man had an idea.  A great idea.  Standing tall the man pointed to himself.
	“Von,”  He pointed to himself again, “Von.”  Then he pointed at the kobold.  Finding the whole situation hilarious, the kobold laughed again.  Between bouts of laughter, the kobold pointed to itself.
	“Sa'la”
	“Well, Sa'la,” Von smirked, “I'm Von.  Nice to meet you.”  He bowed his head slightly.
	Sitting up, Sa'la replied, “Von, Han'ia Sa'la.”  In what bewildered Von, the kobold outstretched its hand toward him.  Slowly, not wanting more hissing, he outstretched his and carefully grasped it in a handshake.  Sa'la's scaly hand felt cool compared to his.  The scales were a lot more supple too, rather than harsh and abrasive.
	I deep yawn flowed through Sa'la, which Von caught like a sickness.  Von pantomimed sleeping, which the Sa'la nodded.  She pointed to the bed, then at him, then herself and the floor.  Von shook his head.
	“You're a guest.  You take the bed.  You need it for your leg anyways.”  He pointed to Sa'la, then the bed.  Sa'la shrugged and gave a little smile before falling back onto the bed.  While the man was setting himself a makeshift bed infront of the now burning coals, he could hear the kobold already had drifted to sleep.
	'Rough day for ya,” Von thought, 'Out like a light.'  After making his makeshift 'bed', he could feel the grip of sleep take over his body.  On calm nights like these, Von adored the sounds of the forest as he fell asleep.  The lullaby of the forest soothing to his ears.  On the precipice of sleep, another sound joined the night.  A small snoring from the kobold atop his bed.