Meanwhile—
Thrall—or Go'el as he was also known—was wolfing down a bowl of oatmeal porridge.
He had been living in this human's cottage for two days now, and although he had started out fearful and tense, Go'el had quickly adapted to the new environment.
However, despite having become familiar with his surroundings, he still hadn't let down his guard.
"Eat slower, no one is going to fight you for it," the old man said as he watched Thrall eat, trying to communicate with him, only to find that there was no response from the other side.
He couldn't help but shake his head, "Kid, can you speak?"
Go'el showed no intention of responding and continued to focus on his meal.
The old man shook his head again, muttering to himself, "Is this kid simple? He doesn't even speak a word."
Suddenly, Go'el stopped and looked at the old man in surprise, "How did you know my name is Thrall?"
The sight of the small orc finally speaking took the old man aback as well.
