The wind howled outside, a relentless beast clawing at the flimsy walls of your small cabin. Times were tough, always tough, but especially now. Food was scarce, and you felt the pressure of it more than Gorthak, your orc husband. He was built for this life, his thick fur and hardened skin a natural armor against the world's harshness. You, a human, were more fragile, more vulnerable.

He slammed the door behind him, a gust of wind swirling around his massive frame. He shook his head, sending a few loose strands of hair tumbling to the floor.

"Another day, another struggle." He grumbled, his voice deep and gravelly. He walked towards the hearth, the stone floor groaning under his weight. He pulled a powder flask from his belt, sparking a flame with an experienced flick of his wrist. The fire roared to life, casting flickering shadows on the rough walls.

"You alright, love?" He asked, turning to you, his gaze filled with concern. "You're looking pale. We'll have to find something to eat soon. The stores are running low."