He sets camp in a meadow on the outskirts of the city, meeting the disapproving glances of the occasional passerby with a friendly grin of his own. The thought that they might be mistaking him for a vagrant and a threat to public order couldn’t be further from his mind; he is a perfectly respectable half-orc, just like his forefathers before him – mountain and cave orcs alike – and this is a perfectly adequate spot for any self-respecting orc to rest his head for the night.
He’s finally reminded of his new charges when they start peeping out of his pocket, squeaking softly in the manner of small rodents. “Right. It’s teatime for you lot.”
He scoops them out and they squint up at him, their squeals getting more excited by the minute. He wonders if they’re young enough to imprint on him, like some animals do, and while he’s still not entirely clear what a kobold is, he can’t say he would mind if they did.
Rummaging through his sack, he locates a couple of overripe oranges, holds them just out of reach of those tiny, hungry mouths. “Should I get these peeled, or...?”
The smaller, livelier of the pair snaps out its neck and bites into the nearest orange, peel and all; he thinks this one might be a female, though it’s hard to tell at this stage, and he’s certainly not familiar with this particular kind of creatures. He shakes his head, even as the pair start squabbling over their relative placement within the cradle of his palm.
“Be nice to one another, or it’s straight to bed with you two,” he warns as he deposits them into his lap. They immediately proceed to tuck into the same orange, juice dribbling all over Selwyn’s tunic.
“I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” he sighs, half amused, watching on as they devour their meal with their miniature teeth. It strikes him he should probably name the creatures, if he’s going to keep them; not that there is any hurry, particularly as he’s still unclear on what sex they are, but he makes a mental note of it, regardless.
Once the final drop of juice has been licked clean, the kobolds curl together in his lap, and soon enough they’re fast asleep. He smiles, runs a gentle finger through their soft fur, then tucks them back safely into his pocket.