Thok floated in a foggy blue haze; all around him shimmered like the endless stars of the night sky. He felt utterly at peace, like the world itself had melted into almost nothing, leaving him alone to bask in the awe. The softest pelt in all the forest could not match the plush that brushed his green flesh. He smiled widely, embracing the strange feeling.

  Suddenly, he began to fall from the night's sky and plummeted to the earth below. The soft, warm glow rapidly faded to a cold, rushing wind, and a cloud burst under his falling form. Mountain peaks coated in white, powdery snow refused to catch Thok as he fell, plunging deep into the snow and then the rock. His body ripped through the mountain, falling further and further into the abyss, unable to close his eyes.

  The color blue gave way to a pounding red that began to match Thok's racing heart. The crimson hue swallowed him completely, lashing his arms and legs in place with long black tendrils. Struggling against them made the tendrils tighten further, clamping down and pulling apart.

  The joints elongated and almost gave way. Thok's scream refused to leave his agonized face that twisted in agony.

  The pain stopped. His gaze froze—all color draining from his face. The largest eye he had ever seen stared back at him, tenfold the size of the diminutive gob. It blinked, and with it, a massive wave of red blurred out Thok's vision. He jerked awake, soaked in sweat, to the hunger and cold. Still alone.

  The goblin tried to stand but found a low roof; he blinked hard to get a better look at his surroundings with darksight. Once more, his vision clouded with the blue fog. Frustrated, he kicked his foot hard against the bars, almost breaking one of his toes.

  The racket he made brought a voice from the corner, "Shhhh, Hobs nearby," the voice accompanied a half-rotten apple that rolled to the edge of Thok's cage. Hunger overwhelmed his better judgment, and he extended his arm to grasp the apple. The leather flaps fluttered as the sound of retreating feet faded into the distance.

  Thok had just pulled his prize into his cage when the flaps moved again, and this time the voice that spoke up was less kind. "Outcast, what kill wolves?"

  The owner stood twice Thok's height on long, skinny legs. He held a gnarled wooden staff adorned with many feathers of various colors that flailed about when he spoke. His head poked awkwardly out of the oversized cloak made of countless crows' feathers, making it look much smaller than his body. Behind him stood two large hobs with not a thought behind their eyes, almost swaying in a stupor.

  He cloaked out of fear, retreating to the furthest corner he could.

  Thok stared at the shaman silently. Tusk didn't break eye contact; he watched Thok move around the cage like a cornered mouse. Savoring each fearful movement like he himself pushed the goblin with his eyes. "Scouts kill?" The shaman said, sneering, as he turned and walked out, leaving Thok alone once again.

  Thok breathed out, uncloaking and feeling like he had just looked death in the face. He tried to swallow but found his mouth had nothing to swallow; he hadnt had water in hours, maybe days. He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep or how he even got into the cell.

  The thought of Bigbite flashed through his mind, freezing him. He gagged on his heart that jumped into his throat, remembering the weight of the massive Hob on his back. Dread, he was alive. Fear, it could happen again! Dispair, the hunger joined his dry mouth in their betrayal of his body.

  The apple seemed to shine, despite its decay. His first bite burst into his mouth, the flavor of fermented apple sweet yet tart from the rot. He rolled its skin across his tongue, licking away every drop of liquid he could. It did little to quench his thirst, yet he was grateful for it nonetheless. The meal was over before he had time to enjoy any relief, and the thirst was maddening.

  Crying out for water would rely on the mercy of the hobs, who were as likely to kill him as they were to tell him to be silent. The direness of the situation crushed him almost as severely as Bigbite had. Prisoner to Tusk meant a slow, painful death; everyone knew it.

  Thok wondered how much the shaman knew, what he wanted next, and, most importantly, whether he would ever leave this room again. The darkness held him once again, as it had since his exile. Thok had not always been banished to the edges of the clan's fires and into the dark.

  He even had a family once. Though they didn't care much for the runt of their litter, Thok tried to jockey for approval anyway alongside his siblings. During the years of the Great Burning, many goblinoids fled throughout the mountains, eating everything, while wicked humans pursued. Many goblins starved to death, and some even ate their own during the worst of it.

  Thoks family tried to outlast the famine by storing food deep inside the caves of their clan, but the famine lasted years. The humans burned the trees that bore fruit, chased away most of the game, and watched for anything goblin to come crawling out of their caves. After a scouting mission, their father never came home. Their mother could not feed herself, let alone two more mouths, and chose to let the winter take her.

  The last of the food they had hidden had been long gone, yet Thok would still go looking deep in the caves in hopes of finding something overlooked. His siblings died off one by one over the following years to viper attacks, wolves, and the last simply walked off into the forest and never came back. Alone and too young to hunt, he suffered.

  He was too distracted by his memory to realize the leathers had moved again. The sound of pouring water snapped his attention to a small dish of water that was being filled just outside the cell door. Thok traced the water trail up to the jug and, for the first time since his mother passed, laid eyes on a female goblin.

  She looked at the outcast within the cell, slowly pressing the water close enough for Thok to grab. He moved too quickly for Moss, and she quickly faded from sight. Thok carefully lifted the water into his cage and brought it to his lips; a tremendous rush of relief raced down his throat.

  Moss watched him, but only briefly. She was momentarily happy that she herself was not in a cage, despite being recaptured time and again. She dreaded what was to come; adulthood for females means never seeing the stars again. Her mother had passed in the famine with many other Stonebiter females without ever seeing the outside world. She had been born in the southern warren, one of the first to fall to hunger.

  The hobs and the few remaining shaman took the young. Moss remembered seeing the stars for the first time, being carried on the back of a large goblin as they raced from fireflies. She didn't wish to be in the cave any more than the outcast wanted to be caged. Her fleeting moment faded into the shadows with the sound of her feet.

  Thok watched the nothing move across the walls over and over for what felt like forever. Time crawled. Hope faded. The next time the flap opened, a hob came straight to his cell. Though he held his breath and tried to hide in the far corner, he was grabbed roughly by the throat and dragged out. He was hoisted high, carried quickly from the room into the hall, and held in place against the tunnel wall.

  The shaman stepped close and repeated the question from before. He spoke with pure vitriol. "Outcast, who kill wolves?" The shaman spoke a word, and Thok's face began to press harder and harder into the stone. The pressure multiplied quickly. "Scouts kill, scouts kill!!!" Thok cried out. His skull felt like it would split.

  "No, outcast. You kill wolves." Tusk smiled at the trickle of blood that ran down the helpless gobs forehead. The pressure suddenly stopped, and his body fell to the ground. Thok tried to hide and run, but was quickly subdued once again. "You kill more, or," the hob squeezed hard enough to dig his nails into Thok's skin.

  Snivelling and crying out did nothing but echo along the corridor. Many heads poked out before quickly retreating to their coves and hushed whispers. Farsee appeared at the shaman's side, reporting his arrival and the current state of the nearby forest. Tusk smiled widely at the news of more wolves hunting nearby.

  "Scout, take outcast. He fight good, bring home. He sneak away, you kill and bring me heart." The order given, Tusk waved his hand and turned to leave, his bodyguard following behind, leaving the defeated goblin on the floor. Farsee leaned down and pulled Thok to his feet. "Come," was all he said as he walked past.

  Passing room after room, the two goblins moved softly through the darkness. Thok listened to the sound of his feet hitting the ground; they echoed like thunder compared to the much quieter Farsee. They came upon the passage to the lower warren and kept moving into an area Thok had never seen before.

  They passed rooms with shabby doors, long tunnels that rang out with pick on stone, and countless reminders of mortality. Finally, Farsee slowed his stride and came to a complete stop in front of a larger door with a guard posted outside. The hob ignored Farsee as one would an ant, but the moment Thok stepped within smelling range, the Hob snarled and spat.

  The hob looked at Farsee again before walking away, swearing about the smell. The scout looked over his companions and shrugged, going through the door. Thok hesitated and considered fleeing while he still had the chance. "Don't," Farsee's voice came from the room.

  He swallowed hard and entered behind the scout who had been digging through some boxes and gathering supplies. Thok eyed a dagger that stuck into a log, "Don't," repeated the scout in a tired tone.