Vivian awoke to the soft jingle of one of her polished silver bells, and the screech of the Horned Rabbit as the snare pulled tight around it. She had slept well beside her young lover, but he did not wake from the sound. While he did not shake or stir too violently, still like the night before he twitched and grimaced in pain as he slept.
His hands stayed bound together in tight fists until she touched them as she had when he was recovering from the healing. Each night he was like this and he seemed not to remember much of what time he spent there, or had failed in totally banishing them from his memory. Either way she didn't blame him. That camp had enough bad things in it to scar any mind. She got moving however. The rabbit's screeching would attract the Brush Fox soon, and might wake him so she pulled away carefully from her place beside him and set aside her stockings on her bed roll before gathering her spear.
She struck the Horned Rabbit in the neck with her spear when she came upon it, and dragged it back to camp to tie up by its hind legs and raise it into the air with ropes thrown over the branch of a tree so as to drain the blood. She almost began to skin it herself, her hands half into her bag before she stopped, and looked at the bag beside it. Micheal had his small knife set and belt laid over the top of the bag. Her knife, the knife her mother had given her lay on his belt now on the other side of the pouch. She wondered just why she had chosen to give it to him. She had had ample chance to buy another.
The general store, while pricey, had a good selection. True he was tall, and attractive to her in ways besides, though some might say he had plain or simple features, but for some reason she felt more for this man than she had for most any other.
Even those she had spent a great deal of time with and happily called friends. Part of her ached to wake him with kisses. He always smiled when she kissed him. He was warm and open at a first glance, but she had for some reason taken him as a simple man. There was much more hidden than just that iron will under his many, and often soft layers. Even if that will was a little bent and warped now there was still a strength to him. He cared, and had tried his best in the camp to get everyone through from all that she had heard from the other survivors.
She blinked and shook herself as her thoughts came to letting him bed her again. By the stars it had only been thirty years since her last cycle surely she wasn't due for another ten or more. She had only lived among her people for fifteen years before the curse took hold and appeared on her back, but she was certain her mother, or perhaps one of the other women of the community had told her it was rare to have cycles shorter than forty years if not fifty. Still she looked back to the man, a tall man; a human man, and felt longing. Humans were always wary of her kind when it came to that sort of thing.
There was always some superstition or another supported by the housewives and gossiping men of these human villages that painted her lithe and graceful kin as seductresses and silver tongued devils. Well maybe the males were bad, but surely not the women. Not that many High Elves were cast out from their communities as adventurers or otherwise were they? In her thirty years among them she had met maybe hundred or so, most of them men of one of her cousin Fae Born Elvish races, but she had met women and some of them had even been on their cycles during that time and they were fine.
She shook her head and instead of taking out her skinning knife she popped the cork on her waterskin and took a deep drink of it.
Anyway, thinking of her cycle made her realize she had still taken, perhaps finally taken, a lover again and a male one at that. It was odd and strange and exciting, and By. The. Stars. She barely knew the man a day before she did it. It hadn't really hit her just how far she had taken her flirting until those last moments in the room before the deed. She had practically thrown herself at him in the bath, and likely thrown every woman in the town flying with the news that she had done just that after demanding a bath together with him if not before. It made her face go hot and likely bright red just thinking about that; she certainly felt the heat of it in her face, but she forced herself to get it back under control. It turned out well. IT HAD! Micheal had actually been quite gentle with her, and she could certainly say he had made it very pleasant. Part of her boiled over with just how pleasant that had been and she quashed it ruthlessly, and stamped it down a little bit more besides.
Jingle. Jingle. SNAP!
It almost felt like her ears shot to points as she heard the other snare go off. The cry and shriek was that of a Terror Ferret this time. The predator creature would not be held long in the snare and she would have to be quick! Without another thought she took up her spear and took off onto the overgrown village paths to get to it before the creature either violently shook itself loose or clawed its own limb off to escape. The noise of it was finally enough to wake her young lover, he stirred and shot bewildered glances about the small camp and caught a glimpse of her as she rushed past, but she saw no more than that as she passed through the tall brush.
Later…
Micheal decided he didn't like hunting, trapping, and skinning as much as fishing and fileting. He had blood damn near up to his elbows, most of that from his guided attempt at skinning the Horned Rabbit THING. It was the size of a beagle damn near, but clearly some sort of omnivore. Oh it had the typical two big front teeth, they were just as sharp as razors, and the insides of its mouth were lined first with pairs of giant meat ripping canine like incisors before fading away to molars that looked way too much like a humans for comfort. He knew this because along with the horns, the teeth were used for all sorts of tools because of their hardness when compared to other materials, and they would sell well in the next village or in Mayonn. The hide in itself wouldn't get the two of them all that much, especially after falling victim to his shoddy knifework, but it would get something. He was made to do that work all on his own unlike with the Ferret where Vivian used what mistakes he had learned on the Rabbit to further guide him. That hide Vivian told him had turned out well and was currently tying it up in a tight roll like the other hide beside her to be stored below their bedrolls on their packs.
Now he had the lovely task of pushing all the actual shit and undigested food out of the Ferrets intestines. Apparently the intestines could be sold to the right vendor in Mayonn who made strings from them for instruments, as well as some other uses. He was glad then that this had not happened after breakfast.
It took a while to make the gut bag, and to butcher the two dog sized animals, monsters, whatever, into sizable cuts to be stored and carried. Of which Vivian supplied a bag of salt to rub down the meat, clean waxed paper of which to wrap it, and some twine to secure. Once done, and before packing them away Vivian got out from her pack a tiny wax seal kit and began an odd little ritual. It was an easy thing, something she meant to teach him once he had a grip on the basics of magic, and made up most of what Vivian herself was able to do with magic.
As she finished the quick chant of 'Sealed from the rain and sky of the North; Frigid Keeping!' over each she would stamp them and something would stir in the air and frost would appear on the outside of the paper. He packed them away marveling at his first real chance to observe magic that had not been either some sort of alchemy or potion making like the orc shaman had done; though something like this tickled at his memory of those days. However, he didn't quite have the words; it just seemed so ordinary. Even pedestrian perhaps. There was no great light or flash, or grand weaving. It took just a moment for Vivian to meditate and collect herself in preparation of the spell and bam, stamp, done, each of the packages was sealed and wrapped in a spell of ice with the only sign of it taking place a little fog that rose from the ground beneath it.
After doing a good two dozen hefty packages she did look a little winded, but a short rest and some breakfast made from a full rack of ribs courtesy of the Horned Rabbit made for breakfast. Simply cooked over the fire the ribs weren't all that bad, but could have really done with some barbecue sauce. The fresh and very cold well water washed it all down in a more than satisfactory manner though. This time around Vivian didn't even skimp on the food she ate.
“I do expend more energy when I use magic. Even simple stuff like this is hard for someone like me who doesn't have skills or the attributes for it.” She had said when he asked.
They buried the scrap and the rib bones left behind with their breakfast with the ashes from their fire. He heard something he could only place as a lion's cough or some kind of strange dog bark somewhere in the distance as they were finishing. Vivian met his gaze and gave him a little eyebrow wiggle along with a few mock thrusts from her spear after he heard it; after which she shrugged on her pack and gestured at his staff.
“Keep that thing close and do what I showed you last night.” Her smile showed that she was only slightly kidding, but they did make good time leaving the abandoned village and then set a good pace out on the road after topping off their water skins once more.
Part way through the morning walk they found a little stream holding fish and hooked into a few before making their way on without stopping to cook them first. Two of the little fish dangled on a stringer hung from his pack for an hour, the last still kicking when they finally stopped for their midday meal which not only included the fish, but berries they had found not far off from the stream. Vivian called them Rose Cloud Berries, which were just shy of spicy little things that had a taste somewhere between raspberry and a grape. He guessed that it must make a wonderful sauce or jam and Vivian knew of vendors in Mayonn who sold such a thing.
The more he talked to her the more he felt she was a very traveled and experienced adventurer. She knew and mentioned more people than he could readily absorb the names of, spoke of adventures that took months or years of traveling just like they were now, or on horseback, or in wagons; in teams of small groups or in what accounted an army of hundreds of her own guild mates and that of many others all drawn together to handle one significant threat or another.
Not only that, but over the course of that day of travel he learned about the existence of Fae Born races other than High Elves though Vivian mostly kept to describing her own kin. The High Elven Shrouded Kin boiled down to be mostly what he knew as Dark Elves; who stuck fast to mountain passes and high elevations when they could and were her closest relative species off the Ruldanja continent.
He learned of the Eastern Ogre's who were very much what he had planned for the Oni to be in his writing of the setting, but it appeared they were mostly parts of legend and myth. Aside from Vivian's face to face meetings with a few of them far past the great Ruldanjan city of Mol'Athen far to the east where they landed upon the dreaded Mist Coast before her encounter with them.
The Mist Coast was so named for the Ocean that met with the Ocean of Fire far to the north. The cold water of the Mist Ocean was at constant odds with the heat of the Ocean of Fire, and made navigating the open waters dangerous if not suicidal with the sudden storms and fierce winds. There would be deities there at odds in a century old conflict creating that otherwise impossible phenomenon, and he was curious to see just what this world had formed inside the great many blank spaces of his writing.
He almost felt a stranger in a fully colored-in world he had for the most part written the outlines of for another to fill in later. Part of him was baffled that he was not a potent force, or given some sort of great power in coming here to whatever reality it was. Another part was worried he had simply gone mad, but when he thought of that instead of dwelling on it he breathed in the fresh air, listened to the bugs call in the late summer heat, and took Vivian by the hand.
Whatever mechanism had brought him here for now at least he would do his very least to enjoy what he could. It felt real. His perception of things remained clear and consistent, and the world around him did not change or shift with the passing of his thoughts. When he grew distracted and Vivian brought his attention back around, he snapped back to the world he was in, it was just too solid to be some making of his mind. Just like she was herself. So solid and reliable though he did seem to throw her off a little with how much she apparently enjoyed the casual affection he offered.
Vivian eyed him every time he took her hand, but even with the heat she would hold on for a time perfectly capable of controlling her long spear with one hand before smiling at him and letting go. The sun began to set before he realized the day had gone by. The pleasant conversation with his high elven companion filled his attention almost completely. She watched him and answered his questions. He gave a good amount of thought to each question to keep from implying he knew more than he should.
She would likely struggle to believe he had written some of the foundations of this reality, and at worst if she did believe him she might hate him for what he had made of the world. Though it was hard to feel guilty though. The world he had written was not far off from many other fantasy stories. The creatures were similar, some re-used by any number of settings, though some were his own.
Some might blame him for the orcs, but he had already gotten a taste of that. His thoughts and memories of the camp were nothing like his early writing. They were more of a nameless vague and horrible enemy, but now he hated them with a passion more solid than anything else he had ever felt. He hadn't understood the horror and helplessness of it; the real thing just kept people up at night when they heard the foul green skinned creatures were nearby, and made his own hands shake when he thought about it.
That night just before sunset they camped out in a huge stretch of prairie reminding him so much of southern Minnesota that it hurt. A small rock outcrop made an open spot a ways off the road deep into the tall grass very near to a stream. The thin dirt on the rock outcrop was littered with small struggling plants and made for a perfect place to bed down on the dry side away from the stream. Water trickled up from an underground source on the wet side from somewhere inside the boulders and rocks.
Vivian showed him the almost completely hidden little bowl inside the formation that someone had made long ago. The water inside was crystal clear, and through it he could see down to a fist sized hole that like everything else was quickly being bathed in shadows. They would have struggled for firewood if they had not brought a few of what they had previously scavenged along with them. Vivian had known they would be leaving the forest soon, and had gotten him to collect and carry extra just for this.
She seemed to be content as they set up camp. She produced a small cast iron pan from her pack, and a little bottle of oil. She went around the stream side and pulled up little white and green sprouts. She cut them with her small parrying knife into the pan with a little oil as it began to heat up sitting directly on the small fire they had made. After that she produced two cuts of the Ferret steak from her bag and cooked them one after another. The meat wasn't actually frozen solid, just kept very cool and frosty, and the salt rub interacted with the oil perfectly. The small sprouts were some kind of onion, and it made for a tidy little meal for the two of them.
She watched him eat with warm delight showing on her face; and then was smiling at him once more when after dinner she was showing him a few more steps and strikes with the quarterstaff. He screwed up a little more than he should have. He was distracted and his mistakes stuck out all the more for that. The way Vivian touched and guided his hands to place a proper grip, and the way she stood close with him as she directed his body into the motion of the strike almost made it impossible for him to pay attention long enough to not have her doing and teaching him every move twice.
Finally she drilled him after stepping back. Low thrust. High thrust. Back step middle thrust. Lunging middle thrust. Forward strike. Wide strike. Low to high and high to low strikes. Side step and thrust. Low parry. High parry. Middle parry. Close parry. Feints and baited strikes paired with quick lancing thrusts. One after another over and over and in no order as she called them out working with her spear in hand beside him. Gradually she picked up the speed of her calls for strikes and added in directions for him to side step and strike, or merely to move a certain distance left or right before striking. She would correct him on his orientation and balance, and remind him to always keep his staff at guard as if the enemy were always just before him and that was to say nothing of the constant work he needed on keeping his footing and center of balance aligned as he moved through stances.
From the guard position with a thrust or light-strike he could come out in a flash with the ways she taught him to move and step. The more he did them, and the more the memory of the movements burned into his body the more he realized she was teaching him to strike with not just the strength of his arms, but how to put his weight and momentum into the attacks behind the swings without coming off balance. The practice seemed to work every muscle in his body and he was breathing hard before too long and so was she as she practiced alongside him.
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“Good.” She said, wiping her brow and heading for the stream. “Let's wash off this sweat and get ready for bed.”
“Alright.” Micheal said as he watched her glide past him with her spear over her head as she stretched. She obviously hadn't meant much by doing it, or perhaps she did, but her grace and lovely long limbed body almost made him stumble.
The way she moved, even just walking, was filled with a powerful and beautiful energy. She was a warrior, a fighter, and also very much a woman who loved to be out in the world. The fit of those breeches would have met with the approval of women in his own time, but that mixed with just a small peek at the small of her back sent his heart fluttering. She turned and looked back over at him as she heard him stop, and he couldn't take his eyes off her.
He gulped.
The last lights cast from the sun caught in her hair and eyes. Her auburn locks suddenly looked almost as if they were contained and tamed flames of golden red, and her lovely emerald iris's seemed to catch better light than the most perfectly cut prisms. She looked back at him over her shoulder, a question in her eyes, and a hand going to shield them from the light behind him.
“What is it?” She asked.
Cool air seemed to breathe over the grass and the land itself seemed to sigh. Crickets and frogs began to croak and sing. The air moved the dangling end of ties on her breeches and cuirass.
He let a bashful smile make its way onto his face as it seemed her eyes could finally make him out after being momentarily blinded by the setting sun.
“It's nothing really. I just got caught up by how pretty everything here is for a moment or two.”
She tilted her head just slightly at him. The ends of her long pointed ears actually twitched out from the locks of her hair. She stared at him a moment longer as he met her eyes though. A little color filled her cheeks and her ears twitched again this time clearly showing the color of her blush.
She looked about the prairie and then gave a loud sigh before taking a few long steps over to him. She kept her hand raised to the sun until she was in his shadow and standing close. Both her hands fell to her spear then, but she kept her eyes on his.
He put his hand on her shoulder after a long quiet moment with the two of them just staring at each other and then reached up to gently touch her ears. She was still staring up at him, but they twitched wildly again as he touched them and after another shorter moment she leaned into his touch.
He smiled and touched her jawline with that same hand to run down the curve of her face. She had freckles almost the same color of her lovely golden skin tone, and not a single wrinkle or line anywhere but that scar on her cheek. She was blushing deeply, but didn't turn away. Her eyes still seemed locked on his, but she was blinking and holding her eyes shut for small moments at his touches. Her breathing picked up just so, her mouth opened just a crack, and she let out a small sigh before taking a deep breath. Hopefully she wasn't aware of how hard his heart was beating in his chest, just the thought of it probably had his own cheeks lighting up with color.
“I don't understand why you seem to be different.” She whispered into his palm as she leaned into the touch of his hand. “Men have called me pretty before. Even Human men, Ruldanjan and others.” She opened her eyes and stared up at him. “Some of them had fairly high charisma attributes too.” She added with some of her usual spirit showing for a moment again before it faded away again behind her burning blush.
She kept her spear between her and him, but didn't turn away either. He held his staff away alongside her. She could strike at him far faster than he could defend, but he only thought of that as she glanced at how he held his stave aside. Her eyes turned back to him and seemed to take him in again to begin what he had begun to suspect were constant reevaluations. Moments ago she had seemed an impossible thing to reach or touch when she did not come to him. That was just how she fought. The way she danced and moved while demonstrating strikes would have made ballerinas jealous, but that edge was gone now. She was reachable. Vulnerable. She almost seemed a fragile thing before him for the space of a heartbeat as her uncertainty showed on her face, and deep in her eyes.
She looked around them then and held her spear close. The comparative cool of the night air rushing in made him think it might rain later on, but it didn't really stick in his mind. Her hands twisted on the spear as she looked about, back to road, and behind her to the east across an almost endless stretch of prairie lands only interrupted here or there by a large tree or copse of some kind he couldn't place names or species of, and things that looked like too wide, fat willows. He had a thought that there must be tiny streams like this one all over these rolling hills and plains. It wasn't quite a wetland swamp yet, but there had to be one nearby. The number of frogs certainly suggested that.
Vivian let one of her arms swing down and pull at the tie of her leather cuirass on one side and then the other. She looked about once more and pulled the loose end of her belt from the loop over the buckle at the center of her waist. Her ears twitched and she took him by the hand and led him over to the rock outcrop. She found a boulder that was smooth and about waist high.
He felt his blood go a bit hot and rush to his cheeks and a few other places as he suddenly understood what the silent demand in her face meant they were about to do.
She pulled open the belt and popped open a few buttons with one hand as she set aside her spear. She was red faced and she was almost panting in a way, but she turned back to him and immediately began to undo his pants before he found he could react. Well before his mind could react; other parts of him certainly were aware of what was going on and acting quickly.
When their eyes met he gave her a slightly uncertain glance as he looked about the great open field they were in. Her eyes flashed and she backed into him. It was all the more prompting his instincts needed.
It was an almost animal thing from both of them. She made soft cries and pressed hard back against him, even arching her back, and pulling at the hair on the back of his head at one point as he pressed her against the table height stone. Her gaze shot frantically over the valley, the lines of trees here or there five hundred or a thousand paces off until she began to really push back against him and had her head down with sweet soft cries and moans slipping from her lips. He finished without parting from her, panting harder than he would have been running laps, and sweat dripping down his back and arms, and soaking into the cloth of his pants around his knees. Even though the night air felt cool it was still the depths of summer and they had both been close to relentless with each other.
He held tight to her hips as he pulled away from her, she wavered, but remained standing with her hands out upon the boulder. She didn't look back at him, but her panting was ragged, and the tips of her ears sticking out from her hair were brighter red than the most ripe of strawberries. She pulled her head up and looked back to the road with her weight still mostly on her arms braced against the rock. Her braid had come loose near the ends. He gulped at that and wiped sweat from his brow.
She reached back to touch his wrist with one of her hands. Almost instinctively his hand came away from her body, and she took hold of his hand long enough to get a little assistance in pulling herself upright. He got the first look at her face since they had begun and other than satisfied she looked nervous, three types of exhilarated, and a little ashamed of herself. She gulped, and panted, and quickly brushed little strands from her hair from her face as she did up her breeches, buttons, and belt all while shooting looks all around.
He gazed about too while fixing his own situation. His pants had fallen all the way down to his ankles and he was suddenly aware of just how long some of their sight lines were out here.
She looked like she was about to be angry for a moment before looking at him, then she bit her lip in a way that sent a hot shiver through his body, but that was slowly replaced with an ashamed yet satisfied smile.
“That was very impulsive of me.” She said completely red faced. It was impressive that she could blush so brilliantly even as tan as she was. Her face must have felt like it was on fire. Standing close to her he thought he could almost feel the warmth of it like a fever. “By The Stars this is hardly the place for it, but you--” She cut off and gave him a startling condemning glare.
It made him feel like he stole a cookie or something, and like looking around for a sign of what just he had done, but that glare softened.
And then suddenly to his surprise she pulled herself and him forward by his collar and kissed him fiercely for a long moment.
“That's all the more you get.” She said with clear definition, and her spirit in full force once again. He was a little wide eyed, but nodded. It was hard to disagree with a woman you had just pulled yourself out of in the middle of a rather open field.
She took in that nod still holding onto his collar for a moment still looking serious and casting the occasional glance around again.
“Until we get to Mayonn at least.” She added turning slightly pink in the cheeks again. She frowned down at her legs and moved her hips a little. She made a soft sound like a whimper and gulped before pulling away and picking up her spear. He was left a little wobbly and stumbled after her; he had to turn back before long, he had dropped his staff. He felt a little sticky and had to shift himself a little after that last noise she had made. That and the way she had squirmed made his instincts expect that she wanted more than what he had been able to give her with that relatively quick pairing.
By the time he got around the large rock pile back to their packs set on the grass above the little stream Vivian had her snares and his out of his pack and was off with both into the grass with the last of the light. From what he saw her face was still completely flush through and it seemed she had avoided looking at him. Was she really that embarrassed? It's not like anyone had seen them, but then again as he thought about it he felt his own cheeks fill with heat to challenge the cool evening wind.
With little other options he fished out her little rod and reel from her bag and made about finding a stream deep enough somewhere nearby he might find some fish in. It didn't take him long to follow the smaller stream from the rock pile to a deeper one nearby. Little crabs and crayfish looking things scattered from the waters edge, but he managed to grab a couple while avoiding getting water in his boots. With the last of the light he pulled in a little golden backed walleye looking thing from a three foot deep stream he could have jumped across at a run, and a few things that seemed to be smallmouth bass with green eyes and dark, almost black, green heads like a chartreuse pattern on hard baits and plastics. After that he was out of bait and sunlight just about so he doffed his shirt and pants, and boots to wash the sweat off in the stream with his catch on the stringer he had remembered to bring along from Vivian's things.
The water was ice cold and clear, and super refreshing after the heat of the day and...well it did serve to get the smell of sex and sweat off him too though he could have thought to bring along a little soap.
He met with Vivian back from setting their snares at their camp, both coming back at nearly the same time. Her eyes shot away from him and her face went red yet again, but then her gaze came back to him just as quickly. She took in his wet hair, and hasty dress and smiled.
“You washed the sweat off in the stream? It's deep enough for that?” She asked.
He nodded to her and held out the stringer of fish. Her eyes went wide looking at the walleye thing. The fish kicked and flipped on the line still and she took it to walk over to the wet side of the rock pile. She tied the end around some reeds near the water's edge in a small pool.
“This Walleye and Marsh Bass will make a great breakfast if we keep them fresh until then.” She said brushing sweat from her brow and off her cheeks. “I can't believe you managed to catch one here. That stream isn't very deep, but I guess the water is cold.” He was glad to see the fish were at least the same. Same-ish.
That Walleye had a few too many teeth, and those bass would have been one hundred percent smallmouth bass if not for the green and very large mouth bass like coloring on their heads and the dark green spots along their bodies.
“We can keep them here until we have our fill of water from the pool in the rocks and then we can keep them in there for the night so the turtles wont find them strung up like this. They'll just have to make do for now though. Go fill our waterskins and I'll head over to the deeper stream before it gets any darker. A little dip sounds nice.” She was talking a little fast, but all her suggestions were good so he went along with them. She wasn't looking at him much though, and he would bet she was still blushing like she had been. It was growing dark quickly and he couldn't always make out her face.
“Alright Vivian.” He replied and went to take a long drink from the waterskin. In the sun all day the taste of the leather was in it, and he spat it out and dumped it before he made his way to the little bowl in the rocks.
She watched him, and he looked up at her with the end of his water skin under the icy cool water of the bowl. Their eyes met and she gave a nervous little nod and headed off empty handed to the stream. He took a deep drink of the nice cool spring water with a thought of drinking water from even a clean seeming underground spring like this would do to him without a filter in his own world, and then went to dig out Vivian's waterskin from her things and fill hers.
Maybe that was why he had spent so much time with a fever or sickness in the camp, but more likely it was what he was fed that did that and the various untreated wounds he had taken while there. Christ he should be glad he was alive at all after that with no medicine or the like of it to help him through.
After that he sat by the fire atop of his bedroll with Vivian's laid out beside him a little later. He could hear her coming back, but her steps were slow and careful. She came into the light of the camp not wearing a stitch and smiled at him shyly with her wet hair hanging down her back. She went to her bag and dug out a long sturdy loop of thin rope. She appeared to be shivering lightly.
With a little help she had a little clothesline up on the other end of the fire. Her boots and leather breeches were dry, but she had definitely done some impromptu washing of her shirt, stockings, shift, and linen tied bikini bottom things she wore under her leather breeches.
She knelt down beside him on her own bedroll still naked near the fire. She held out her hands to the flames shivering just slightly.
He watched her and sat up a little.
She took notice and gave him a glance, but then looked back to the fire before taking a breath.
“You don't think I'm a lewd woman or anything now do you?” She asked without looking back at him. She looked a little ashamed the way she was looking down into the flames.
Micheal crossed his legs as he sat up and made himself look at the fire for a little bit trying to feel out what hints there might have been in her voice. He made out an answer for himself after feeling he understood what she might really be asking.
“I mean that was a little wild of a thing to do, but you're also very athletic and healthy. It's not wrong for you to have sexual urges.” He said to her trying his best to be diplomatic. E charisma indeed.
She looked over at him with a serious look in her eyes and her arms outside her knees with them pressed to her chest still couched near the fire. Though the look quickly softened again.
“I was so distracted I didn't even bring my spear with me when I bathed.” She said with a soft laugh. “All I could think when I looked at you was that I needed to dunk my head in some of that cold water.” She gave another small rueful laugh. “All sorts of monsters live in these prairie's, but I suppose with you nearby with that fire I was okay, and the stream isn't all that far, but all the same. I could hardly think I was so embarrassed.”
Micheal reached back and unrolled his cloak. He had been using it as a pillow again. The sounds of the night filled the air, an owl called somewhere far off in the trees, and the fire crackled low before he threw another log on. The air was a bit chilly with whatever cold front had moved in with the night, but it would get hot again tomorrow sure enough. He threw the cloak over Vivian's back who accepted it and smiled at him again with one of her little head tilts.
“So what took you so long to come back if you didn't have your spear? It's pretty much full dark.” He asked.
She tilted her head and smiled as her cheeks turned a bit red again, and after a moment she laughed as she pulled the cloak around herself.
“I would dunk myself and still have the thought of approaching you again when I got back.” She laughed again and put her face into her knees. “I rinsed the sweat out of my clothes for some reason though, and had to come back naked anyway as far as that was from my plans.”
“Oh yeah?” He remarked and wiggled his bare toes at her. “And did you get those thoughts of coming onto me again out of your head with that or no?” He made sure to put an amused edge on the friendly tone of his voice.
She certainly understood his openness and laughed out loud. Full and long like it had given her the chance to let some of her tension out.
“No.” She said, finally shaking her head. “I didn't.” She reached over to her bag and tousled it before she sniffed and noticed the repellent candle set out behind her bedroll already lit. She shook her head again and looked back at the fire still crouching.
He leaned back on his bedroll and watched her stare into the flames for a little while. He waited until she seemed a little more herself then moved his hand down toward the clasps of his pants. He waited until she eventually looked over at him before he snapped the button loose with a smooth motion together with a wink and the best sexy guy face he could make. The gambit worked as intended and she burst out laughing again.
He fought back his own grin, but it won out in the end. He sat up so he could lean over and get some clothes for her to sleep in out of her bag, but she turned and pushed him back down where he had been sitting.
Her knees hit his bedroll on either side of his hips and she threw her arms around his neck in a hug. She was dry mostly everywhere by now with the excess likely absorbed by the cloak. She laughed and kissed his neck as she held tight to him. He fought to keep his balance in the awkward position, his abs struggling to hold her up as she leaned down against him, but she pushed him down further with her arms until he was flat on his back laughing as she committed her whole body weight against his struggle.
She was sitting on him then with her hands on his chest, still naked except for the cloak, as she looked over the tops of the grass one last time. She gave an eye to the dying embers of the fire behind her now as they were taking in the new log, and the light mixed with the light of the moon was just enough for him to make out her smile, and the pale light of the moon, or moons, played off hints of her curves within the cloak where the pale rays could get in.
He gulped. Again. Vivian's eyes seemed to gleam as she noticed too. She bit her lip blushing and thumbed open the last buttons of his trousers one at a time in a way that made his heart beat like a drum in chest. It made him feel like a young and foolish kid with his first lover. The night sky above was filled with stars and the air was so fresh as to almost tingle with unseen energy. He couldn't think of a place he would rather be.
Vivian playful popped the last of his buttons and waggled her eyebrows at him in a return of his earlier gesture. He laughed, and was interrupted as she came in for a kiss.
Micheal lost track of time until the sounds of the night returned to him over the sounds of her breath against his neck. They clung together still. Vivian seemed to like that so it was more than fine with him. Cold sweat lay across both of their backs and bodies, but it felt clean and right.
When she squeezed herself against him he squeezed back in return. Her panting breath leveled out as she rested against him. It was almost with remorse that they both dressed as much as was comfortable for sleeping and wormed their way into their bedrolls beside one another. The moon turned out to provide more than enough light for them to operate by once the fire had gone out though Micheal suspected Vivian had some sort of low light vision skill or benefit from her race with the way her eyes showed.
They had already been vulnerable for a little far too long, but in the end it had turned out alright, and the candle did its job. Nothing seemed to stir in the cool night air, but the wind, the grass, a few frogs and crickets, and the leaves on the trees. The stars shown above like they had the night before and Vivian scooted herself close inside her bedroll to look up at the stars with him, her head on his arm, until the two of them fell asleep. He supposed neither of them really felt the need for words at that point. Something in their exchange tonight had made that clear to the both of them, but maybe at some point he would tell her his arm fell asleep much faster than he did with her head there. Just not tonight.