Captive of the Forest Tribes

[crysede]

Kiyla:
Her body settled into a swift jog, a pace she knew from experience that she could keep up for some hours: endurance was one of the prime requirements of those who served the temples, since many rituals lasted several days and provided little time for weary dancers to rest. Despite this, she knew most of the savages would be able to catch her on open ground: what she was counting on was that the densely woven undergrowth that her lithe form slipped through with only minor difficulty, would provide slightly more trouble to her much larger pursuer. Still, she could not rest all her hopes for freedom on this: eventually she would have to stop running. Her only hope was to find someway to obscure her trail.

Passing a shallow stream flowing over rocks, she ran on for another two dozen paces to a large stony outcropping, then, taking what she knew to be a great risk, she very carefully made her way back to the stream: stepping on stones as much as possible to avoid leaving any noticeable trail. Then resuming her flight: now running in the stream, and slowing her pace a little to account for the slippery footing of the wet stones.

She fervently hoped that her efforts would be enough to convince the savage that she had continued on across the outcropping - only realizing his mistake when he failed to pick up her trail leaving the outcropping at any point. Even if it didn't throw him off completely, the maneuver should buy her at least a little time.

 

[BlazeofLife]

Sprinting onward, following the trail ahead of him with ease, Kadar settled into an easy lope, his breathing coming in slow spurts, measuring each inhalation carefully.
Coming abruptly upon a stone outcropping, he stopped, gazing at the stream below. If this were one of his men fleeing, he would immediately begin to follow the waterway, but for a city girl...
Just to be on the safe side, he cast about on the stone, looking for some trace of her passing. Looking closely, he could see the path she had taken, from the disruption of the lichen atop the rock and by interpreting her previous course in a straight line, but the trail ended at the end of the stone expanse. Gazing at the unbroken line of foliage, he grinned, his interest piqued anew at the ingenuity that the girl displayed. Backtracking, he slipped into the water, and looked both upstream and down. Which way to go...
The water was fairly shallow, and he could see the stones at the bottom quite easily. Ahead of him, several of the smaller stones were off-center, as though jarred loose by hurried footsteps...
He grinned again, pleased at the prospect of hunting such an interesting quarry, and began to run again, trusting his instincts to guide him over the slippery rocks below, and comforted by the knowledge that with his longer legs, and his stout deerhide boots, he could maintain a faster course than she with her shoes made for cobbled streets, and not flight through a dark forest.
He would catch her soon...

 

[crysede]

Kiyla:
Although she had only been running for three or four hours, she found her legs starting to ache: as much from the frigid waters rushing past her, as from the unaccustomed movements needed to traverse the slippery stream bed. Worse still, when she had paused for a moment to listen for sounds of pursuit, she was certain that she heard the sound of someone quite close behind her.

The mountain stream had been slowly leading her uphill, and the terrain had gradually become more open and rocky. In one last effort to leave her pursuer, Kiyla chose a particularly rocky section of the bank to climb out and head back into the forest. The frothing of the water as it passed over and around rocks insured that the bank was already wet, so her trail would not be given away by the added dampness, but she had a sinking feeling that the one after her would still manage to find some clue: it had certainly not taken him long to discover her last bluff. She took off running again, keeping to rocks as much as possible and frequently changing direction as she dodged around the large boulders littering the landscape. Abandoning her steady pace for a fast sprint: if she did not escape him soon, she knew all hope would be lost.

 

[BlazeofLife]

Loping along the waterway, Kadar kept his gaze on the banks to either side, watching for sign that she had broken free of the water and entered the forest once more. To both left and right, the trees stretched onward, their foliage unbroken at ground level. He grimaced. How long could she kep up this pace? Signs were nearly impossible to find within the stream, and his only clue that she was still traversing it lay in the fact that he could detect no sign of her leaving.
Coming upon a stretch of stone and scree, he slowed, glancing at the rocks protruding from the frothing stream. The stone was covered in the perpetual spray from the clamoring water, eliminating any chance of seeing her footsteps, but something bade him stop. He cast about, searching for some sign of her passage, but found nothing. Still, he climbed upon the shore, leaving the stream behind, and began to scour the forest line. She shouldn't be this canny, she was just a city girl, but if she had been able to confuse him at her entry point into the river, then this might suite her style too.....
There.
Several lengths away from the water, he found a trace of her, a small twig snapped at the edge of the trees, and ground into the soft earth in the center of an ovoid indentation. He straightened from his crouch, smiling. She was a smart one, walking carefully on the balls of her feet to try to avoid disrupting the ground cover...
Laughing aloud, he measured the distance between waterway and the sign, judging her direction of travel, and set off through the wooded lands, finding more obvious clues left behind now that she must think him still following the stream.
She couldn't be that far ahead of him...

 

[crysede]

Kiyla:
She had no way of knowing whether she was still being followed or not: since leaving the stream she had not seen or heard any sign of pursuit, but in this more open terrain she could not expect to hear anything until her hunter was almost upon her. She ran on, forcing herself to keep going despite the burning pain in her legs: fear, more than strength, driving her on. But even fear can only push a body so far, and after running full out for perhaps an hour, Kiyla could feel her body slowing down. No amount of self-discipline could force her weary muscles to respond more quickly, and her sprint became a halting jog. Every step became more difficult for her exhausted body, until even slavery started to look more attractive than continuing to move.

Rounding a large boulder, she drew to a sudden halt, frozen in her tracks. In front of her, seemingly mere inches from her face, were row upon row of sharp, white teeth. She stared at the creature, frozen in place, as it swiftly advanced upon her. Her mind, numb with fatigue, did not register either fear or pain as the creature leapt at her, knocking her to the ground.

 

[BlazeofLife]

Kadar had begun to notice new signs as he ran, still breathing easily despite the hours of sustained effort, and slowed to inspect them. She was getting tired, he thought. The trail, which had begun back at the stream and had been all but inperceptible, was now a swath through the foliage, weaving back and forth. Striding toward a large boulder protruding from the forest floor, he heard the unmistakable sounds of a suffle, and heard, too, the stifled scream and the harsh aniaml noises.
Rounding the stone with reckless speed, he flung himself forward, catching the briefest glimpse of his quarry cowering beneath the gnashing teeth of a monstrous creature, its bulk nearly burying her, as he flew headlong across the small clearing. He impacted the hide of the creature with bone jarring force, throwing them both into a roll across the jagged stone chips that littered the ground, and twisted with it, keeping its gleaming fangs away from his face by thrusting a thickly muscled forearm into its mouth, behind the sharp canines, wedging the mighty jaws open in a gaping parody of a smile.
He landed with it, angling to keep it underneath him as they rolled, and at the first hint of solid footing braced his booted heels against the rocks, letting the beast's own momentum snap its neck as it tried to roll past him.
Standing, and disentangling himself from the still-warm corpse, he clamped his hand around his mangled forearm, trying in vain to staunch the bleeding and casting about anxiously for the subject of his hunt.

 

[crysede]

Kiyla:
Stunned, she remained motionless on the ground for a moment, uncertain as to what had just happened, and as to whether or not she was still alive. The harsh cry of a raven cut through her thoughts like a knife, pulling her back to the here and now with a wrenching suddenness. The vivid recollection of the snarling mouthful of fangs that had confronted her, had her instantly stumbling to her feet, looking around in fear. Seeing the savage who had captured her standing across from her, she felt a disorienting wave of confusion: had she imagined the animal? Then she saw the still body of what appeared to be a large cave lion at the savage's feet, a stream of blood dripping down onto its thick golden pelt, leaving a rich stain of red. She looked up again quickly, this time noticing the torn flesh of the barbarian's profusely bleeding arm.

One of the arteries must have been damaged: she recognized the injury as very similar to the wounds her father had suffered in an accident during the previous harvest season. Her fear and confusion disappeared, leaving a detached feeling of calm: finally here was something familiar to focus on, something she knew how to cope with. She removed her light woolen jacket as she walked up to him, then, taking the dagger from his belt, she cut the material into long strips. "Sit." She instructed him, reaching up with one hand and pushing down on his shoulder. As he complied, she directed his injured arm so that it lay upon a sharply upward sloping stone, keeping the arm well above chest level. Carefully, she used several of the strips of woven cloth to wrap the arm, applying a firm pressure with the bandage, but not enough to stop the flow of blood to the hand. It would be important to check the bandage later, she reminded herself, to ensure that swelling had not caused it to become too tight.

"You must remain still until the bleeding stops." She said clinically, as she finished securing the cloth. She looked down, meeting his eyes, so as to satisfy herself that he understood her instructions. The dark-brown eyes that meet hers brought the instant realization that she was standing next to a wild savage, not some injured farmer: she dropped the dagger hurriedly, and backed up several steps. In her hast she caught her heel on a jagged ridge of rock and, her legs being far too exhausted to allow her to keep her balance, she suddenly found herself sitting on the ground, facing him. Kiyla stared at the large man in front of her, unsure what she should do.

 

[BlazeofLife]

Reaching down calmly to retrieve the fallen dagger, Kadar met the girl's eyes, appraising her silently. He had expected her to run, the moment she was free, but she hadn't...
She had, in fact, helped him staunch the bleeding, with what he recognised to be a strong field dressing...
She had even spoken to him, though he hadn't understood the clipped sylables that she spouted at him so quickly. He thought perhaps the language might be the same, but the accent mangled it beyond recognition, for the moment. It would take time, to sort meaning from the jumble.
Deciding that her behavior had earned her a small measure of trust, and realising anyway that she was probably too tired and lost to be able to find sanctuary anywhere, he put his faith in the intelligence she had shown so far, hoping that she wouldn't make him regret his sudden idea.
Reaching behind the wide belt that girded his hips, he pulled out a leash and collar, similar to the now-torn and much bedreaggled one around her throat, and with a grunt threw it far into the trees. He glanced back at her, his face open and honest, and gestured toward the bindings that still encircled her slender neck, smiling encouragingly.
Come on, he thought, Let me take the collar off, we need each other here, I'm not going to hurt you...
Stretching out his hand, he held it out to her, in a gesture of friendship.

 

[crysede]

Kiyla:
She watched in bewilderment as he withdrew a replacement collar and leash from his belt, and threw them into the woods. Smiling, he stretched a hand out to her, and she met his smile with a look of utter confusion: she knew how savages behaved, and this was not it. She looked from his face, to his outstretched hand, and back again: would he actually remove the collar that bound her? It seemed unlikely, this was, no doubt, a trap to lure her close enough for him to grab so he could prevent her from escaping again. Reflecting on this line of reasoning, however, she had to admit that it made little sense: she had been standing right next to him while dressing his wound, he had plenty of opportunity to grab her then if that was his goal. And just where was she going to escape to? Her legs were almost too tired to support her weight, let alone continue running, and she didn't really wish to risk making the acquaintance of another cave lion either.

She moved towards him uncertainly, hesitating just out of his reach, before finally kneeling down in front of him.

 

[BlazeofLife]

Smiling at her, and trying to avoid any swift movements that might startle her away, Kadar leaned forward, placing his hands at either side of her neck, and with a gentle motion and a subtle twist unclasped the collar from her throat. Pulling it away carefully, he set it on the ground beside her, letting his hands trail across her soft skin as he did so, and looked at her downcast face. Reaching toward her, he took her chin gently in one hand, lifted her head, and looked into her eyes, hopeing that shw wouldn't take the sudden opportunity to run.

 

[crysede]

Kiyla:
Her body stiffened as she felt his hand on her chin, pulling her reluctant head up so that their eyes met, but she did not pull away. She had not looked at his eyes before, at least not for longer than had taken her to turn her head away. She was surprised to find that they were a warm brown in color, rather than the pitch black she had assumed. Although she searched his gaze for it, she could not find the wild savagery she expected either: he appeared calm, even friendly. Finally, she pulled her head back, still uncertain about the present situation, but no longer afraid.

She looked around at the surrounding forest, she had no idea when her flight had begun, or for how long she had run, but by the deepening shadows it must be late afternoon. She looked back at the barbarian: it would likely be several hours before his wound had closed enough for him to move without reopening it, and even if he could have moved, she knew there was no way she had the strength to return to camp. It would seem they were to spend the night here. At least the cave lion would provide a plentiful supply of meat for dinner, if he had some means of starting a fire.

She knew they spoke the same language, since she had been able to understand some of what had been said to her after her capture. Watching his face closely for signs of comprehension, she spoke slowly and carefully: "Do you have flint and steel?"

 

[BlazeofLife]

"Dew ooo 'ave felin 'n stee?..."

Staring at her, his mind raced to comprehend her words. Something in them nagged at his subconscious... as though he should recognise it...
He smiled. 'Do you have flint and steel.' They did speak the same language. It just seemed otherwise because of the drastic differences in accent.
Gazing at her, and not bothering to enunciate his response for fear of mangling the language to her, he simply reached into his belt pouch, and pulled forth his dagger and whet stone. The dagger would do for steel, and as for the flint...
Turning over the whet stone, placing its stropping suface face downward, he revealed a second stone cleverly fitted to its backside, a piece of flint, which he passed to her, grinning the entire time at the new level of communication he seemed to be reaching with her.

 

[crysede]

Kiyla:
She watched as he brought forth dagger and flint, a wide grin on his face. As she took both from his hand, she wondered with some trepidation why he was so pleased: had she just fallen into some sort of trap he had laid for her? She seriously considered leaving: the arm would keep him from following for a while. But her nervousness was no match for her stomach, which informed her in no uncertain terms that it wasn't going anywhere without some food. Setting the dagger and flint down on a rock, she walked into the woods a little ways, gathering branches that looked well dried. Returning, she used the dagger to make small shavings of one of the pieces of wood, setting the rest up in a slightly open structure and putting the shavings in the middle. She smiled as she did so, remembering her father's cheerful words, from so long ago, as he had taught her how to light the oven.

"The key to successful fires, my young lady, is careful preparation. Any idiot can shower sparks down on a heap of wood hoping it will light eventually, sometimes it even will: but a skilled man, or a skilled little girl, needs only one spark!"

She thought of him now, and their warm kitchen, as she carefully reached in and struck the flint to the blade, sending a small cascade of sparks onto the shavings. A few caught on the wood, glowing pleasantly, and she blew softly across them: breathing life into them until they changed from glowing points to small licking flames. Sitting back on her knees, she viewed the now rapidly growing fire with satisfaction and sadness, the comforting familiarity of its warmth reminding her of the alien nature of her surroundings.

A growl from her stomach reminded her of why she had built the fire in the first place, shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she placed a few of the larger branches on the fire before taking the dagger over to the carcass of the cave lion. She had never butchered an animal herself, but she had watched others do it, and had a good idea of how to go about it. Without too much trouble, she was able to remove two good sized slabs of meat from the beast's shoulders, which she then mounted on sticks above the flames.

Sitting near the fire, across from the barbarian, Kiyla kept a careful eye on the meat, turning it as it sizzled cheerfully. Despite her hunger, she forced herself to wait until it was actually done before removing it from the fire. Spearing one of the pieces of meat on his dagger, she walked over to him, kneeling down in front of him and proffering the dagger: her eyes showing caution, but no outright fear.

 

[BlazeofLife]

Kadar stared at her, this young slip of a girl, and marveled at her resolve. She had been running from him in mortal fear but a short time ago, then attacked and nearly killed, she had watched her home and city, destroyed at his hands, and yet, here she was, offering him food. He couldn't help but be impressed by her fortitude. Reaching out, he accepted the proffered meat, tearing off a large strip with his hands andallowing her to keep the knife for herself. She needed it more, to protect her delicate fingertips from the sizzling grease, while he had his thick calluses from weapons work to protect his own digits. As well, having the knife probably accounted for some of her newfound courage, even if it was just an illusion. Even with his arm injured, disarming her would pose little difficulty if the situation arose.
Still, if it made her more comfortable to feel that she had at least some small measure of control in this situation, then he was quite prepared to allow her to retain it.
Chewing slowly upon the meat in his fist, he studied her, gazing at her long legs, the play of the faint light upon her soft skin, the subtle shadowing between her taut young breasts, confined within her torn and ragged clothes...
Forcing his eyes away, he committed himself to staring at the fire, his face burning from more than it's faint heat could account for.
She was more comfortable around, certainly, but that was going too far...
He knew she would never think of him that way, it was no secret how the people of the cities viewed his clan, and she would never stoop so low...
And yet, unbidden, lustful images paraded themselves across his mind's eye, images of her, her clothing lying in a pool around her feet, shedding her inhibitions, her gaze alight with hunger for him...
Shaking his head, he tried again to banish the thoughts from his mind, his heightened senses increasingly aware of her slim figure, the rise and fall of her chest, the glisten of the firelight off her full lips...

 

[crysede]

Kiyla:
After he had accepted the food from her, the barbarian continued to gaze at her, and she was uncomfortably aware of a change in his expression: a new hunger flickering in his dark eyes as they caressed her lithe form. She moved back to her spot quickly, certain that only his injured arm was preventing him from forcibly violating her like the savage beast he was. At least, she was certain that she should be certain of that: that was what was making her uneasy wasn't it? But then why wasn't feeling afraid? Sitting cross-legged by the fire, she ate silently, cutting small strips of meat with the dagger and eating them mechanically, immersed in her confused thoughts.

Kiyla jumped at a sudden loud ‘pop' from the cheerfully crackling fire, the unexpected noise startling her out of her contemplations. Looking up, she glanced nervously at the barbarian sitting across from her. In the twilight, the fire's reddish glow gave a bloody cast to his dark bronze skin, playing across the muscles of his chest, and reflecting in his eyes as he stared into the flames: imparting an odd unearthliness to his face. He was, she reflected, by far the most formidable looking man she had ever seen. Even seated, his well-muscled body looked ready to spring into action in an instant. He looked up, as if he had suddenly become aware of her gaze, and their eyes met for a long moment.

Feeling heat rushing to her cheeks, Kiyla dropped her gaze to the ground: praying she had acted fast enough to prevent him from seeing her blush, while berating herself for showing such foolishness. This was not some local lad eying her from across the marketplace: it was a murderous predator, a slayer of innocents! However striking he might look, she reminded herself sternly, it would not make being defiled by him any less torturous.

Piling some more wood on the fire, while carefully avoiding looking in the savage's direction, she then lay down: the warmth of the flames quickly lulling her exhausted body to sleep. When she woke again, it was night: the forest a dark wall of blackness held back only by the faint light of the dimly glowing coals. She shivered, a chill night breeze easily penetrating what was left of her clothes. A hiss of pain escaped her lips as she sat up, her stiff muscles vigorously protesting against any movement. Taking but a moment to readjust to her surrounds, she was then able to locate the wood she had collected, and within a few minutes she had the fire burning again. Sitting back, satisfied with her work, she glanced over at the barbarian.

 

[BlazeofLife]

The fire crackled and his happily before them, and Kadar relaxed back aginst a small stone outcropping, lost in thought as the ruddy glow played across the young woman across from him. She had gotten up but a moment before, tossing more wood upon the blaze to stoke it higher, and now she sat, shivering, and trying to hide her furtive glances in his direction.
Suppressing a smile at her actions, he winced in sympathy at her pained expression when she shifted, remembering well his own stresses and overexertions from his youth.
Sleeping on the hard ground would only exacerbate matters, making an already sore situation tortuous for her. Removing his ever-present belt pouch entirely, he rummaged around within it, taking several small tightly wrapped cylindrical shapes, and placing them carefully on the ground before him.
Kadar bent low, squinting his eyes in the dim light, and studied the shapes, in actuality small bone flasks, each holding its fluid contents firmly capped against spillage. Finding the one he sought, and replacing several that would disinfect, attract game, and confuse his trail, he took the amber fluid and broke the seal, grinning at the memories evoked by the heady scent that emitted from it.
It brought back his own experiences as a youth, when others had used this same liniment to soothe his own hurts and aches.
Recalling the difficulty his companion had had with enunciation when she had attempted to speak to him earlier, he refrained from making any such attempt himself, unwilling to embarrass himself thusly, and instead gestured to her back, and to the salve in his hand, outstretched toward her.

 

[crysede]

Kiyla:
While waiting for the heat from the fire to warm her again, she watched as he studied the small objects he had placed on the ground: whatever they were, they did not look dangerous, perhaps a medicine of some sort for his arm? He finally picked one, and held up what looked to be a small vial, putting some of the salve on his hand. It took her by surprise when he looked up at her, indicating her back and then the salve in his hand. She gazed back at him in confusion for a minute, unable to think of what he was trying to convey to her: why didn't he just tell her? Then she remembered the trouble she had understanding his guttural accent, perhaps her speech sounded so strange to him that he didn't even realize they spoke the same language?

It finally dawned on her that he must have noticed the pain she was feeling from her overused joints and muscles, this must be some sort of healing balm, like the bitter lotion used by the festival dancers to treat overexertion and muscle injuries. How odd that the backwards people of the forest would have medicinal treatments as well, surely that would require more intelligence on their part than mere animals? Leaving this question for the moment, she stood up and slipped her dress off over her head, her firm flesh appearing almost bronze in the glow of the flames as they played over her curves. Her nipples hardened in the cool night air, and goose bumps rose along her arms: she moved closer to the fire, and stood there soaking up the heat until the chill had passed.

Kiyla felt no discomfort in being naked, nakedness was openly accepted by the city folk: festival dancers never wore more than masks and jewelry, and people of all ages and sexes would bath nude together in rivers and public baths. The amount of clothing worn by the barbarians was just one more thing that marked them as uncivilized: the women especially seemed ashamed of the gifts they had been given, always covering their breasts beneath layers of fabric, where as in the city women often left their chests bare in celebration of their fertility. Once warmed sufficiently by the fire, she walked up to him, then knelt before him, with her back to him. Trying her best to approximate his accent, she thanked him for his offer of aid.