Chapter Nineteen: The Journey Back

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Hey guys, sorry this chapter took so long to write! This chapter really DID NOT want to write itself, but thank you guys for your patience, and I hope you enjoy!

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"Roger, what did I say about playing with your food?" The machine in question froze as it was caught red-handed, the owl it had been tossing between its claws falling to the ground with a pathetic 'flop.' Releasing a guilty grumble, Roger stomped away from the creature, the owl taking the opportunity to soar away from its torturer. "Oh, get over here," the huntress sighed, beckoning Roger to lay beside her and scratching its head to show that all was forgiven. "I know you just wanted to have some fun, but we can't treat animals like that, alright?" Orea might have been a hunter, but Rost had long ago taught Aloy and her that all animals-even their prey-deserved respect.

"That machine can understand you?" Kotallo asked, his voice echoing against the ring of trees encircling their camp for the night. "You speak to it as if it can discern your words."

"I don't know if Roger can understand exactly what I'm saying," she admitted, shrugging her shoulders as she continued running a lazy hand down the automata's spine. "But I think it can understand what I'm feeling, in a way." Roger was certainly able to perceive when Orea was happy or upset, and the way it had thrown itself atop the Grimhorn back in TAU...

"I've never known a machine to behave in such a fashion." The Marshall absentmindedly applied a fresh coat of dye to his chest and legs. The paint had washed off in the river they'd waded through to catch their dinner a few hours prior.

"Neither have I. He's just...different, I guess." In all honesty, Orea hadn't the slightest clue as to how and why Roger behaved the way it did. Even before the Derangement, she had never heard of a machine acting affably towards humans: passive perhaps, but outright friendly? Never. "Whatever it is that makes Roger special, I owe this little guy my life," she continued, stroking Roger's head and earning a delighted purr in response.

"How so?"

"Before we arrived at the Grove, Aloy and I passed through Plainsong. We ended up having to fight one of the Utaru's land-gods."

"You fought an Utaru land-god? I thought they were peaceful, even with the Derangement?"

"This one went rogue. We had to take it down before it could raze Plainsong. At some point, it got in a pretty good hit on me-in all honesty, I thought I was a goner. Just when it had me cornered, Roger jumped onto its back, distracting it long enough for me to finish it off. I wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for Roger."

"That's incredible."

"I know. All my years of hunting, and here I am with a machine for a pet," she chuckled, shaking her head with mirth. "Funny how life works sometimes, huh?"

"Indeed." Orea did not miss the forlorn gaze he cast upon his missing arm.

"I will say though, Roger aside, some of the machines I've fought in the Forbidden West have been incredible! I've never seen anything like them." The Seeker was thankful to draw the Marshall's eyes back toward her rather than his arm.

"You grew up in the East, correct? With the Nora tribe?"

"Yeah. Most of my life was spent in what they call the Embrace, their sacred lands. You've heard about the Nora?" Given how isolated the Nora tended to keep themselves-although the tribe had begun to open up beyond its borders after the Battle at the Alight-Orea was surprised a Tenakth Marshall would even know the its name.

"Fashav spoke of it occasionally-albeit only briefly. He recounted the Nora as skilled warriors who kept mostly to themselves, labeled as 'savages' by many of their neighbors. Although, given the barbarity the Carja themselves are capable of displaying, I seriously doubt they have any right to brand another people as such."

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