“He asked me where to get a frame.” Brashe took a sip of his coffee, watching me over the rim. “Yesterday. He said he needed something simple, nothing fancy, and he wasn’t sure where to get it. I asked what it was for, though, as always, he was evasive.”
I snorted.
His dark eyes sparkled and a hint of a smile rose on his face before his mouth smoothed. “Eventually, he said it was a drawing of Beau. From how his face darkened and the way hewouldn’t meet my eyes, I connected it to you. It wasn’t a difficult conclusion.”
“It was just a sketch.”
“Did you know what you did when you gave it to him?” he asked.
“I gave him a drawing of his dog.”
“You gave him a tal’haig.”
The word sat between us.
“I don’t know what that means,” I finally said.
Brashe set his mug down. “It’s—That’s a word for it. Tal’haig.” He paused like he was deciding how much to explain. “Rendering someone’s likeness. Or someone precious to them. It’s not casual. It means you looked long enough to actually know them. It’s a…mate thing.”
“Matething?”
“More or less.”
“I didn’t know,” I said again. And what did “mate” mean in all this?
“No.” He picked up his mug. “But he did.”
The coffee in my hand had gone cold. I set it on the counter before I could drop it. Tolrek had folded the paper with a lot of care. Now he’d gone looking for a frame for it.
“Is there something I should do about this?” I asked. “Will he feel like he has to respond?”
“Knowing Tolrek, yes.” Brashe said. “An orc who’s been seen will make himself known to the other person. The orc on the other end will probably notice before they fully understand.”
He said it like it was obvious, the way people describe things that are simply part of how the world works.
“You mean he’ll…draw something for me?” I wasn’t understanding this custom, so it was guaranteed I wouldn’t understand if Tolrek actually did something to reciprocate.
“Oh, not that.” He took a sip of his coffee, smacking his tusks. “It’s kind of like gravity. An orc can’t pretend the moment didn’t happen. He’ll be drawn back to it.”
I still didn’t understand. “Giving him the drawing wasn’t a bad thing, was it?”
“Oh, not at all. It’s a good thing. A kind thing.”
“Yet he’ll feel obligated to do something about it.”
“Exactly.”
“How long does it last?”
“Until the seen person accepts or withdraws. This comes from somewhere older than manners.”
My throat felt tight. “He won’t explain it.”
“No. He won’t know you know.”
“I see. Just now, I gave him a chew toy for his dog. Does that carry the same weight?”
“No. Tal’haig is specific to likeness, to being seen. Ordinary kindness is just kindness. Orcs give and receive it without ceremony.”
