I had promised myself that I would watch over him while he slept. He needed to sleep. To heal. To be able to slumber without having to keep an ear out for whatever may approach. I wanted to take his pain from him. I wanted to give him the comfort of knowing I was there, and awake, and watching over him. It had taken only a short while before I could tell by his breathing he had fallen asleep. I adjusted myself so my weight would be comfortable to him and not add any pressure to his injured shoulder. It was then that I was able to really contemplate things. To think of what had happened and consider my options.
In looking around his wagon, I can tell he is a simple man with simple tastes. He seems to have no desire for fancy trinkets or flashy objects of great material wealth. I'm pretty sure he could have them if he wanted, but the only prize he had taken from the raid was me. No telling how many countless raids he has been on, yet there was no sign of it displayed anywhere that I could see. I examined a little closer his face, tracing the highness of his cheekbones and the strong curve of jaw. I was surprised to find that he is much younger than I expected. He has all the power of a seasoned warrior yet his face reflects youth where his eyes appear to have witnessed so much. When he moved at times, I could tell that his shoulder pained him yet had he been awake, I doubt he'd have let it cross his face.
At some point, despite my desire to watch over him, I must have drifted off. A light sleep, but dozing none the less. When I woke, I had buried my face against his neck, and stirred myself with the sound of my own soft whimper against his skin. His scent filled my senses. Manly. Musky. Something untamed and wild. Something addicting. Kings help me, but I found myself craving him. Just the weight of his hand on my hip was driving me over the edge of sanity. What is wrong with me? He had said he was some sort of magical man. Is it possible he has entangled me in some sort of trance? A trance of desire? Are such things possible at all? I needed air. I needed distance away from him to clear my head.
I tucked the fur around his body where mine had been, careful to get out from beneath his arm without disturbing him. It was almost blindly that I stumbled, overwhelmed by everything that I came spilling out of his wagon and into the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. I have seen the rise of Lar Torvis over the colorful bridges of Ar. I have seen the rise over Thassan waters. Nothing could have prepared me for such wonder. It was spellbinding. I do not know how long I sat there, on the step of his wagon just watching it. But I knew right then, coupled with the factor of what he stirred inside of me, that I did not ever want to be away from this place. Somehow all of the luxury of the city seemed so small in comparison to the true beauty. I wanted to watch this a thousand times more. Maybe in his arms.
His arms. Such a distraction of thought! I had to do a little hunting of my own to find his food supply and utensils. I found several botas of water kept, so with digging here and there, I managed to brew up a small kettle of blackwine for him. I chopped up some tarsk sausage and cheeses and made an omelette, and some breads. There was a basket of berries that I scooped up and put into a bowl as well, and made sure that I was quiet once I reentered his wagon. I left the food covered so he'd find it when he woke. I had things to do. I had a mission to take on. I had to prove myself worthy to him today to the best of my ability. I put on a kettle of chipped bosk, and suls. Tossed in some vegetables that I found stored. I don't know how they are used to cooking here, but all I can offer is what I know. Perhaps I'll make some honeyed sweetbreads for him if I can get back to his wagon in time. It was peace of mind knowing that at least the stew would be simmering, and the fire stoked so it would last for awhile, while I was out taking care of my chores. I am unsure of what he expects of me, but I can only try.
First thing I did was make sure that his sleen was at a good distance and wasn't going to snap my ankle off if I should attempt to leave the area. Strap after strap of botas were taken and while I noticed some of the bota toting slaves headed in a direction, I followed, yet of my own path. Fifteen trips it took to fill all the botas. Fifteen! And I am not even sure that it will be enough to get thru the entire day. There were many more left, though those appeared to be extras. So I left them for the time being. I never realized water was so heavy. I used the contents of one bota before refilling to wash myself, head to toe. The water was refreshing but the air was bitingly chilled on bare skin. I didn't dare take any of his clothing or dig for something to wear. If he chose to keep me naked, it was his right.
I found a basket and set off on my bosk shit duty. A smaller pouch I carried on my hip just in case I found any berries that were ripened. I found plenty of dung. Most of it fresh, some of which I didn't see until it squished right between my toes. How I could miss such a pile that is as big as Ar itself, I do not know unless I was just totally enthralled into my thoughts again. Dried. I picked up one pile that had insects scurrying around. I hoped no one heard the screech I let out when a bug ran up my arm. Bugs! The bosk looked at me like I had lost my mind. He probably would have to. I had to find some sort of strength to bury down any further screams of critters and bugs that I may find, since I must prove myself. But it.. is.. bugs. BUGS! Ahns passed. I knew he'd be awake by now. And my poor little basket had only a small bit of the piles needed. I had not eaten, since one, I wasn't sure I was allowed to just yet, and two, I was in a hurry. I thought this would an easier task than it has proven to be. The pastel colors of daybreak gave in to a clear skied day. The chill still hung in the air, but at least the warmth helped ease that from being so frigid. It was that biting cold that was incentive to find enough of these bosk chips so to not be forced to sleep outside. I walked, and walked, finding some here and there, and finding that it felt as though I was going too far. I kept looking back, wondering if I knew the way. Hoping I knew the way. I didn't want to be food for his beast. Or any beast for that matter.
I began making my way back, picking up what bits I could find. There were dried bits of wood too, that I took, hoping it'd make up for not having a full basket. Full. The basket was maybe a third of the way, if that. Maybe I am looking in an area that had already been picked over. He had said dried for several seasons, so no telling how many had come this way before, seeking the same thing so their Masters would not send them to the cold to sleep. I'll make my way back and check on him, see if he needs anything. Perhaps he can give me some idea as to where the great city of bosk dung is at.
The closer I get to camp, the more I feel myself shaking inside. Should I speak to him of this craziness that fills my head and mind? If its true, and he does intend to sell me, I suppose I have nothing to lose. They say that a slave is prohibited from hiding anything. Yet I fear what I feel. I fear showing it. What happens if...
I cannot even force myself to think on it further. It aches if I do.
In looking around his wagon, I can tell he is a simple man with simple tastes. He seems to have no desire for fancy trinkets or flashy objects of great material wealth. I'm pretty sure he could have them if he wanted, but the only prize he had taken from the raid was me. No telling how many countless raids he has been on, yet there was no sign of it displayed anywhere that I could see. I examined a little closer his face, tracing the highness of his cheekbones and the strong curve of jaw. I was surprised to find that he is much younger than I expected. He has all the power of a seasoned warrior yet his face reflects youth where his eyes appear to have witnessed so much. When he moved at times, I could tell that his shoulder pained him yet had he been awake, I doubt he'd have let it cross his face.
At some point, despite my desire to watch over him, I must have drifted off. A light sleep, but dozing none the less. When I woke, I had buried my face against his neck, and stirred myself with the sound of my own soft whimper against his skin. His scent filled my senses. Manly. Musky. Something untamed and wild. Something addicting. Kings help me, but I found myself craving him. Just the weight of his hand on my hip was driving me over the edge of sanity. What is wrong with me? He had said he was some sort of magical man. Is it possible he has entangled me in some sort of trance? A trance of desire? Are such things possible at all? I needed air. I needed distance away from him to clear my head.
I tucked the fur around his body where mine had been, careful to get out from beneath his arm without disturbing him. It was almost blindly that I stumbled, overwhelmed by everything that I came spilling out of his wagon and into the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. I have seen the rise of Lar Torvis over the colorful bridges of Ar. I have seen the rise over Thassan waters. Nothing could have prepared me for such wonder. It was spellbinding. I do not know how long I sat there, on the step of his wagon just watching it. But I knew right then, coupled with the factor of what he stirred inside of me, that I did not ever want to be away from this place. Somehow all of the luxury of the city seemed so small in comparison to the true beauty. I wanted to watch this a thousand times more. Maybe in his arms.
His arms. Such a distraction of thought! I had to do a little hunting of my own to find his food supply and utensils. I found several botas of water kept, so with digging here and there, I managed to brew up a small kettle of blackwine for him. I chopped up some tarsk sausage and cheeses and made an omelette, and some breads. There was a basket of berries that I scooped up and put into a bowl as well, and made sure that I was quiet once I reentered his wagon. I left the food covered so he'd find it when he woke. I had things to do. I had a mission to take on. I had to prove myself worthy to him today to the best of my ability. I put on a kettle of chipped bosk, and suls. Tossed in some vegetables that I found stored. I don't know how they are used to cooking here, but all I can offer is what I know. Perhaps I'll make some honeyed sweetbreads for him if I can get back to his wagon in time. It was peace of mind knowing that at least the stew would be simmering, and the fire stoked so it would last for awhile, while I was out taking care of my chores. I am unsure of what he expects of me, but I can only try.
First thing I did was make sure that his sleen was at a good distance and wasn't going to snap my ankle off if I should attempt to leave the area. Strap after strap of botas were taken and while I noticed some of the bota toting slaves headed in a direction, I followed, yet of my own path. Fifteen trips it took to fill all the botas. Fifteen! And I am not even sure that it will be enough to get thru the entire day. There were many more left, though those appeared to be extras. So I left them for the time being. I never realized water was so heavy. I used the contents of one bota before refilling to wash myself, head to toe. The water was refreshing but the air was bitingly chilled on bare skin. I didn't dare take any of his clothing or dig for something to wear. If he chose to keep me naked, it was his right.
I found a basket and set off on my bosk shit duty. A smaller pouch I carried on my hip just in case I found any berries that were ripened. I found plenty of dung. Most of it fresh, some of which I didn't see until it squished right between my toes. How I could miss such a pile that is as big as Ar itself, I do not know unless I was just totally enthralled into my thoughts again. Dried. I picked up one pile that had insects scurrying around. I hoped no one heard the screech I let out when a bug ran up my arm. Bugs! The bosk looked at me like I had lost my mind. He probably would have to. I had to find some sort of strength to bury down any further screams of critters and bugs that I may find, since I must prove myself. But it.. is.. bugs. BUGS! Ahns passed. I knew he'd be awake by now. And my poor little basket had only a small bit of the piles needed. I had not eaten, since one, I wasn't sure I was allowed to just yet, and two, I was in a hurry. I thought this would an easier task than it has proven to be. The pastel colors of daybreak gave in to a clear skied day. The chill still hung in the air, but at least the warmth helped ease that from being so frigid. It was that biting cold that was incentive to find enough of these bosk chips so to not be forced to sleep outside. I walked, and walked, finding some here and there, and finding that it felt as though I was going too far. I kept looking back, wondering if I knew the way. Hoping I knew the way. I didn't want to be food for his beast. Or any beast for that matter.
I began making my way back, picking up what bits I could find. There were dried bits of wood too, that I took, hoping it'd make up for not having a full basket. Full. The basket was maybe a third of the way, if that. Maybe I am looking in an area that had already been picked over. He had said dried for several seasons, so no telling how many had come this way before, seeking the same thing so their Masters would not send them to the cold to sleep. I'll make my way back and check on him, see if he needs anything. Perhaps he can give me some idea as to where the great city of bosk dung is at.
The closer I get to camp, the more I feel myself shaking inside. Should I speak to him of this craziness that fills my head and mind? If its true, and he does intend to sell me, I suppose I have nothing to lose. They say that a slave is prohibited from hiding anything. Yet I fear what I feel. I fear showing it. What happens if...
I cannot even force myself to think on it further. It aches if I do.
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