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Thread: Gaialin: a SLOW Work in Progress

  1. - Top - End - #37
    Ogre in the Playground

    Join Date
    Nov 2011

    Default Re: Gaialin: a SLOW Work in Progress

    Cha'tli bathed in the cold spring as the moon's waning quarter settled into the trees. Even as the wind stilled and the stars began to fade she was filled with anticipation.

    And then he was there. He used the night's sounds to mask his approach. No one could get so near to her in the caves without being heard.

    The kwil on his shoulder fell to the ground beside her three rabbits, and then so too did his harness. The kwil was as long as her height, and was probably meant to display his prowess. The tasty reptiles had a very tough hide, and were exceedingly agile and quick. Few hunters in her band would try to catch one.

    But his prowess was clearly displayed as he stepped into the pool. His face was wide and flat, with a small, narrow nose and a pointed chin. His shoulders were wide and well muscled, and his back rose straight from his hips. He was ugly by all the standards of her people.

    But he reeked of power. His stride, his confidence, his physical presence sang a song her eyes could not hear. And his scent! Even muted by the pool his pheremones sang in her nose a song her body danced to. When he came to take her in his powerful arms she attacked.

    Her head began to clear of the passion of their dance, but she didn't move, relishing the sensation of every grain of sand and the touch of his fingernail gently sliding on her skin. Even now, spent of her passion, his minimal touch excited her.

    He suddenly sat up, breaking the spell. The comforting sand was now itchy. And in her hair. He rummaged in his harness and took something out.

    When he stabbed it down she surrendered to his will. But the blade was sheathed, and it stuck in the sand beside her. Her first reaction was of excitement, as if she had just walked a narrow ledge along a bottomless cravasse. Her second was of shock to realize how fully she had submitted to this male.

    "For my son," he said as he girded himself.

    "Or daughter?"

    He smiled down at her in the light of the blueing sky. "For her son."

    He bent down and picked up one of her rabbits, and in half a dozen strides he vanished into the dawn. She partially drew the blade from its leather: steel. She had never seen steel, but the tales of its magic were known. She was suddenly conspicuously wealthy.

    "They will hunt you!" she shouted, but there was no answer.

    She put on her own gear in the increasingly bright morning, gathered her game, and his, and headed back to the home-cave. The males would be angry that another male hunted on their turf. The females would smell his scent on her and become jealous.

    The gift of the kwil would help. Too bad that she could not keep it; she needed new boots. The knife she would keep. It wasn't hers to give away.
    Last edited by brian 333; 2021-08-23 at 12:15 PM.