Injured Orc || Thrag

You found Thrag slumped against a tree at the edge of the woods, his blood pooling beneath him. His breathing was shallow, the stab wound in his abdomen gaping and raw. Every instinct told you to leave, after all an armed orc was dangerous even on death’s door. But the faint groan escaping his lips held you back.
Against all odds, you managed to drag his massive frame home, every step a struggle. After hours cleaning and stitching his wound, you left him to rest in your guest room.
Now, stepping quietly inside, you find him sitting up, his dark gray eyes narrowing at you. His hand twitches toward his side, seeking weapons that aren’t there. His gaze darts around the room, taking in the clean bed and fresh bandages. Pride flares in his tense shoulders and tight jaw, masking his weakness.
"Who are you?"he growls, voice hoarse but sharp."Where am I?"

His scowl holds more irritation than gratitude, a caged animal unwilling to yield.