Flotsam

[marauder13]

This thread is closed for Darkwarrioress and myself.

The solid wall of deep purple clouds arrived almost half a day after the first echoes of the thunder had been heard. Occasional flashes of violet or gray signaled another rolling roar of fury from the amassed clouds. Garath had watched it from time to time as he went about his checking of the snares and traps he had set up. He had done his morning round, finding only small amounts of game, barely enough for him to eat, let along sell anything worthwhile. The day's hunt for larger game was not successful at all. Most of the wildlife had the good sense to find somewhere quiet and wait out the storm.

While the closeness of the trees shielded him from the worst of wind, the tops of the trees bore the brunt of the irregular gusts. The noise raised by the whipping of branches and leaves was enough to make it impossible to hear anything moving on the ground. More than half of Garath's time looking for snares was taken up with looking for trouble. To add to the general confusion, leaves, twigs and the occasional small branch dropped down. It was yet another danger that Garath had to contend with.

The final crowning glories of his bad day arrived just after he checked the last of his snares. The thick clouds turned the day into night, and finally unleashed a downpour. The rain didn't fall from the sky, it was thrown. Again, the trees offered some protection, but filled the air with waterfalls that would soak a man through in the time it took to walk through them.

He cast a glower skyward before he started to pick his way through the pitch black to find a natural shelter he remembered being near by. Each step was a cautious feeling out with his foot. His right hand clenched the hand axe in readiness for anything that came his way. Bears never came into this part of the forest in the storm season, so his only real concern was if there was a begwhar on the prowl. Garath had a healthy respect from the large cat. The mottled pelt made it blend in perfectly, and even on the most quiet of days, they were almost impossible to hear.

Fate smiled on him as a lightning bolt cut through the air with a literally thunderous roar that shook the trees about him. But for long enough, the land about him was as bright as day, letting him see clearly his destination. At a normal walking pace, he covered the last few yards before reaching the tree fall that made the roof on the shelter. Beneath it was a small rock face, maybe five feet high that formed two walls of the shelter. Between the massive trunk, and the accumulation of other detritus, a roof and another wall kept the elements at bay. The slope of the ground also worked in his favour, the slope running down toward the entrance of the shelter.

His relaxation was short lived when he saw the faint glowing eyes appear at the entrance. The foul breath of the giant cat filled the shelter just as a low, menacing growl joined it. Garath tightened his grip on his axe, moving a little further out in readiness. He watched the eyes track the movement of his weapon, the growl deepening. With what felt like the passing of Eons, the eyes finally disappeared into the obsidian. Garath kept his guard up for about ten minutes, before he relaxed, and let the panic run its course.

"Thank you. Which ever God looks out for people like me. Thank you very much."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

“ Meara Yseult McKenna,” she softly scolded herself as she stood on the port side of the ship transporting her to her destination and her future husband, “get a grip on yourself, girl. He’s just a man, like any other. You know this needs seeing to. Your family is depending upon you.”

Her softly spoken words were caught in the winds that had suddenly whipped up. Her red tresses, once lying calmly about her shoulders now became a cloud around her face. Now where on earth had these winds come from. The day had started off bright and sunny. The water had been calm. Gathering her hair in one hand, she held it tightly as she gazed around. Even now the ship was starting to rock gently. Gripping the rail with her free hand, she leaned over it slightly, as if the water itself held answers. Unfortunately, the only thing it did was push against the side of the ship harder.

Her grip on the rail tightened. As the ship rocked harder, she became too scared to move. She knew she should go below. But the idea of crossing that pitching, rolling deck, alarmed her. Hair forgotten, she used both hands on the railing as the ship started to heave even more. The skies darkened from seemingly out of nowhere. Thunder rolled. Hard on its heels came a crack of lightning that made her inhale sharply. She needed to get below. Now. Forcing herself to let go of the railing, she stumble across the deck, making for the doorway that would take her below. It wasn’t an easy journey.

The wind howled furiously, whipping at her dress and hair. The rain came next, beating mercilessly down upon them, soaking her to the skin. Men were running about the deck to shouted orders in securing the ship. With the deck getting wetter and wetter, she was hard put to keep her footing. A moment later, hitting the deck was almost an assurance rather than a possibility and she would have if not for one of the deckhands who caught and guided her to the archway. With the deafening wind whipping about them, giving verbal thanks was implausible. Instead, she squeezed his arm, managed a smile and carefully went below.

Shivering violently as she passed into the galley, she stood just inside the galley, “Mi--ii--ght I ha--ve sommme---thing warm, Cook?” Her teeth chattering made speech almost impossible. The Cook, turned. His eyes took in the situation all at once and ushered her to a bench at the long table.

“ 'ere now, lass. Sit. That be it, sit down. Let me get ye a towel and something hot to drink.” He sent a boy off for towels and turned to pour her a drink, liberally adding a ‘splash’ of something else from a jug by the stove. Turning once again to his charge, he put the mug in her hands, wrapping her fingers around it. “Drink up, Missy. It 'ill put a fire in yer belly and warm ye.” Watching her, he saw that she could hardly lift the mug let alone sip from it. He put his hands over hers, bringing the mug to her lips, encouraging her to drink. She did and choked on the contents. He eased the cup away from her mouth.

“Dear god, Cook. What is in there?” If the ruddy man could, she would swear, he was blushing. Slightly. “A bit o’ liquid fire, Miss.” The cabin boy came back with towels. Taking the mug from her, Cook handed her a towel. ‘Now Miss, ye be dryin’ yer hair ‘efore ye catch a cold. When ye can, Tomas here will see ye to yer cabin.” Taking the towel in shaky hands, she dried her hair the best she could under the circumstances. Getting to her feet unsteadily and just clearing the bench with her foot, the ship pitched violently, sending her flying forward, hitting her head on something hard. Blackness engulfed her.

She woke up spitting. What was--- sand. She was spitting out sand. Raising a hand to her forehead her fingers found a huge bump. She winced, trying to sit up, but found the world spun. Laying back down was a fairly good idea. Staring up at the sky she blinked rapidly. It was azure with puffy clouds floating by. Moaning softly once, her mind tried to piece together what had happened.

 

[marauder13]

Toby and Mark gambled on leaving before the storm abated. They were both tired of getting to the wrecks as everyone else had, and not being able to get anything good from the salvage. Normally, like most of the other villagers, they would have waited for the storm to fully pass before moving. The storms had a habit of having one last fearsome lash out before they were gone. They believed that the storm wanted to make sure that it got everyone before it left.

Toby and Mark didn't mind if the storm left anyone behind. They both carried daggers against that chance. The people were honest folk, and never illegally salvaged a ship. They checked for survivors before beginning to claim their rights. The two checked all the beaches along the way, noting that some of them had debris from a wreck scattered along them. Neither man was interested in debris, they wanted to pick over the wreck itself.

~||~​

Robert found himself a nice rock to lean against when he dragged himself ashore. It kept him out of the wind enough to help him from getting cold, but didn't stop the sun from reaching him either. He had managed to doze for a while, waking with the warm kiss of the sun. He looked over at the Seakist, his home for the last five years, slowly being broken up by the waves. She had ridden out some storms in the past, but this one took her life, along with the rest of the crew.

"I'd best be getting myself out of here before some land crawling critter comes to pick over her bones. The heartless land rats will try and gut me too."

He slowly stood up, straightening stiff and sore muscles. As he did, he saw he was not alone on the beach. He had seen the woman a few times on the journey. He knew he wasn't alone in thinking of what it would be like to share her bounties, but the first mate made it clear that there was to be no fooling around with her, unless they wanted to hang from the mainmast for a few hours... by the neck. But all thoughts of that nature were driven from his mind. She was in as much danger as he was.

"But... if I save her life, then she could thank me." His unshaven face broke out into a wicked grin as he loped over to where the woman lay on the sand. He dropped to his knees beside her, one hand resting gently on her wrist.

"Miss? Miss? Are you awake?" He saw her eyes were open, and smiled warmly. "Thank the Gods you're alive, Miss. We have to get moving, Miss. If the locals find us, they will kill us so that they safely steal from the ship." Robert slowly assisted Meara ro sir up. When she looked steady enough, he helped her to stand.

Robert looked around. "This way," he said leading the young woman off toward one end of the beach. He led her to a low ledge of rocks. "Climb up there, then move up the slope to higher ground. I'll be up right after you miss."


Mark grabbed Toby's arm, excitedly pointing to the beach below them. Halfway up the sand was the wreck, still mostly intact. The two men started to make their way down when Toby pulled Mark to a stop.

"Look there! A sailor."

"Pity that he died in the wreck," Mark replied, pulling his dagger free and continuing down the sloped pathway hastily. Toby was close behind, his own dagger firmly clutched in his tight hand. The two men got to the sand, and raced towards Robert, who was scrambling to get up the rock face.

"Hurry, Miss," he spoke hoarsely. "Get away now, before they see you." In his panic, his foot slipped, causing him to fall to the sand. He quickly got up, and tried again. But his panic was even greater as the men got closer. Again, his grip faltered, sending him to the sand. Before he could stand, the two villagers fell on him. Robert screamed as the pair plunged their daggers into him repeatedly until he stopped screaming and moving.

Mark took a quick look over the top of the ledge, and saw nothing.

"Come on," he said to Toby, grabbing the man's arm. "Before the rest get here." The two of them ran to the wreck, whooping with joy at the riches that awaited them.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Her eyes went from blue skies to the man leaning over her and gasped in surprise as she struggled to sit up. He was one of the crew. With his help she got to her feet, hearing the urgency in his tone, she wasted little time and followed him. She scurried up the on the rock ledge he led her to and had barely gotten up the slope when she saw the man who was with her, slip and fall. She glimpsed two others running up the beach toward them, she was in the process of turning around to offer him a hand up when he fell again. The other two were closing in far too fast so she scrambled backwards on her hands and knees, moving back out of sight. His screams made her slap a hand over her own mouth to keep from echoing those screams. She started to shake, violently. She waited. An eternity it seemed. Crawling toward the edge of the slope, she looked down and wished she hadn’t. She was greeted by the grisly sight of her now dead rescuer. She had enough time to wing a mental prayer for his soul and a thanks for saving her life, before she was horribly sick.

Wiping her mouth with her sleeve, she spent little time loitering. If they came looking around…. Getting to her feet Meara pushed deeper into her environment. Spying a felled tree she stumbled toward it. Sitting down, back against it, she drew up her legs, wrapping her arms around them, pondering on the surroundings. Awareness set in of being sticky from the salt water, sandy in places a woman should definitely not be sandy in, and by the pain that finally began to register. Inspecting her body, there were bruises and scratches as well. Hunger and cold, exhaustion and fear crowded in. Resting forehead on knees, she closed her eyes. Just a moment. Truly. Surely she'd have the energy then to explore. Her eyes fluttered closed and she slept, to a question….

Meara McKenna, what have you gotten yourself into this time?…..

 

[marauder13]

After the encounter with the big cat, Garath managed to calm himself enough to get a fitful night's sleep. He woke with the dawn, his belly grumbling for lack of food. He stretched, scratched at his beard then set off to check over his traps closer to where he slept. The storm had blown over during the night, leaving a bright shiny day, with just the right amount of breeze to keep the forest from getting too hot.

Garath walked with his usual stealth, not wanting to scare off any potential prey by making any loud noises. The first few traps and snares were empty, and had not to tripped by the storm. With the amount of fresh dead falls on the ground, he counted himself lucky to have found as many as he had still set.

He caught a glimpse of blue that he first thought was merely a patch of shy through the trees, until he realized that it was too low. He came to a complete stop. Slowly turning his head, he saw that the blue was fabric, not sky. Above it was a tumble of red hair, cascading down over part of what he could see was a dress. His mouth went dry as he crept closer. More details became apparent. The dress was wet, and torn in places. He saw what was clearly sand in her hair, and on her dress.

'Shipwreck survivor!'

If the villagers found her, she was good as dead. He was moving without any further need for thought. He closed the distance quickly, not caring that he was making a large amount of noise as he approached. His free hand grabbed her upper arm roughly, attempting to haul her up onto her feet.

"You're coming with me."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Two things happened all at once; she was startled out of sleep and someone hauled her to her feet and said “You’re coming with me.”
Her eyes snapped before her sleep riddled vision went from the stranger to the grip he had on her arm. She stared up at him vacantly a moment, her mouth partly opened.

"Excuse me?" The pressure on her arm, the motivating factor for her compliance at all. She got to her feet slowly, "Who are you and where did you come from?"

Using her free hand she brushed her hair back from her face, "For that matter, where am I?" Now that the sleep fog was clearing, she could feel her temper rising. She gave a meaningful look to his hand gripping her arm, "Would you mind letting me go?" She tugged at her arm in an effort to retrieve it from his grasp.

 

[marauder13]

Garath was a little surprised that the woman so readily stood up. She made no effort to resist him until she was standing. He more or less ignored her stream of questions, as they meant nothing to him and what he had planned with her.

He felt her try and tug her arm free. His grip tightened automatically, and he started to pull her in the direction that they needed to travel. He gave her one last backward glance, and continued in his efforts to move her away from where he had found her.

"None of what you asked matters anymore, woman. You're mine, and you'll do as you're told. Keep fighting me, an I'll leave ya for those scavenging rats to find. One look at ya, and they'll kill ya to protect their lootin.

"At least with me, you'll be living. Now, move!"

 

[DarkWarrioress]

She dug her heels in, resisting this strangers pulling. It created an ache in the socket where arm meets shoulder, but she didn’t back down. She must have hurt it when the shipwrecked. Instead of a tug, she now actively sought to take back her arm from his grasp.

“I said LET GO. I don’t know who you are. And.. and.. I’m not some prize from the shipwreck. I’m a person and I’m certainly not yours.”

Her voice trembled on her last words and bit down upon her bottom lip, trying to regain control. Fear made her eyes wide. Would he truly leave her here? Would those savages she had seen before, kill her? She knew they would just as quickly as they had that sailor from the ship. Nothing mattered to them more than scavenging treasure. She was truly torn. Caught between this arrogant brute and the blood thirsty savages who were probably still cackling over whatever it was they found washed up on shore.

 

[marauder13]

Her efforts to resist him were starting to anger him. The woman had no idea of what was happening. If she thought that he was someone she would ignore, or command, she was completely wrong.

“I said LET GO. I don’t know who you are. And.. and.. I’m not some prize from the shipwreck. I’m a person and I’m certainly not yours.”

"Keep shouting, and I'll dump you back on the beach. As for the rest, you're wrong."

Her fright was starting to get a grip on her, which he was pleased about. With good fortune, it would make her less feisty, which would work to both of their advantages.

He made the most of her lapse, and efficiently lifted her over his shoulder, and he headed back towards his camp. It took him a little while to get her weight settled properly, but once he did, he picked up his pace, wanting to get his gift home and unwrap it.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

She stared at him in horror mixed with wonder. This.. this.. man had lost his mind. How dare her speak to her like that? Like… like… she was just some piece of flotsam he had found on the beach. Before she could say anything however, she found herself unceremoniously hauled over his shoulder like a sack of chicken feed. For a moment, she simply hung there, staring at the ground while the blood rushed to her head. Then she began pummeling his back.

“PUT ME DOWN! NOW!”

When that failed to bring results she started kicking her feet too. She was bound to hit something, somewhere, on his person. To hell with his threat to dump her on that beach with those savages.

 

[marauder13]

The young woman had a spark in her as hot as her hair was red. While she was shocked for a small time, the fire blazed within her soon after. He smiled to himself as the woman pounded his back with her fists. Not even the swinging legs made much difference, except making the smile a little broader.

“PUT ME DOWN! NOW!”

He came to a stop, using the forward motion to help drop her to her feet. One hand went to her shoulder, to prevent her from falling. His other hand delivered a strong slap to her face.

"Scream like that again, woman, and I'll dump ya on the ground and ya can fend for ya self."

Once more, he deftly put her over his shoulder, and continued his walk to his camp. He found himself liking her fire. A spirited woman would make a far better companion in the long term than some docile wench. Of course, she would not take to her life quickly, but he was determined to make sure she learned about her new life, and all it entailed. She was also healthy, clean skin and shiny hair. Plus, he even admitted to himself that she was a beauty too. To him, that was a extra blessing. Healthy and feisty were the important factors.

He softly whistled to himself as he walked towards his forest home.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

She found herself unceremoniously dumped forward to land on her feet, barely. A strong hand clamped down on her shoulder to keep her from falling over, but she had no time for that small, insignificant gesture to register however because her head snapped sharply to one side as stinging pain exploded in her face. It wasn’t horribly so, more unexpected than anything else. But before she could react to it, she found herself flung over his shoulder again. She softly sighed to herself. At least she wasn’t in any danger of losing her life to the blood-thirsty people on the beach. As for the one hauling her to god knows where? She’d deal with him, later. After they got to wherever it was he was taking her. That slap was not forgotten, not by a long shot.

 

[marauder13]

For the remainder of the way back to his camp, the woman over Garath's shoulder seemed to calm down. There were no more shouts, which was the main concern of his. In the back of his mind, he hoped that the woman had finally come to understand the path her life had now taken, but something told him that she was merely saving her strength for a better moment. Even that thought brought a smile to his face.

He was please to see that the camp was not disturbed in the time he had been away. The small tent still stood, and it had enough room for the two of them to sleep under. The fire was still smoldering, which meant he would be able to quickly restore it. The skins he had cured were still where he had hung them, and they looked like they would be fine, even after the storm. His rough smokehouse was still standing, and it still would be a few more hours before he needed to check what was within. All of his valuables, of course, were hidden, and a quick scan told him that it too had not been disturbed. While the camp was in a natural surrounding, there was an order to layout that showed an efficiency to his work habits while at camp.

With little ceremony, he dropped the woman back onto her feet, taking a little time to roll the shoulder that she had been resting on.

"Welcome to your new home. You'll come to love it as much as I do. Now, let's get a better look at ya."

He slipped a dagger into his hand and quickly sliced the top of her dress at the neckline, cutting the fabric and cords down to below her bust. He dropped the dagger, then grabbed either side of the cut, and pulled the dress open and down, exposing her upper body completely.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

She looked around. It was something totally unexpected, though why she thought that way was beyond her. This island or wherever it was they were was seemingly small and out of the way of anything that resembled what she was use too. But before she truly had time to gather her wits about her or take stock of where he had set her on her feet, he had not only sliced open the top of her dress, but then ripped the material apart, exposing her chest to his view. Her reaction was instinctive. She swung on him. An open-handed swing meant for his face.

“How bloody well dare you? Just who the hell do you think you are? Just because you found me, one, does not make me yours as if I’m some little toy or prize and two, that doesn’t give you the right to rip my clothes. What am I suppose to do for clothing now?”

Her eyes frantically searched the ground and found a small stone. She quickly snatched it up an threw it at him. That wasn’t nearly good enough in her current temper so she darted around his camp, looking for something to seriously inflict pain upon him with.

“Of all the bloody nerve…” she darted here and there, tossing things asunder as she looked for anything… something.

In her current state it didn’t even occur to her that the torn bodice of her dress had laid open her abundant firm bosom to his view.

 

[marauder13]

Garath allowed himself the pleasure of looking at the woman's generous bust, which made the slap a complete surprise to him. His face stung a little from the impact while he berated himself mentally for being a fool.

“How bloody well dare you? Just who the hell do you think you are? Just because you found me, one, does not make me yours as if I’m some little toy or prize and two, that doesn’t give you the right to rip my clothes. What am I suppose to do for clothing now?”

Before he could answer, he saw he reach for a stone. He ducked the wild throw, which he guessed he didn't need to in the first place. He stood in surprise and a little awe as the red head scoured the camp site for something else. He had a feeling that it would be something she would use to hurt him if her temper was anything to go by. She seemed to have forgotten about him in her desire to find whatever she was looking for. He did take the time to look on her breasts as she bent, dipped and moved about the campsite.

He moved up towards her, grabbing her arms above the elbow in tight, almost painful grips. He wrenched her around so she was facing him. His deep brown eyes peered out from the shaggy collection of hair above, and the bushy beard below, glistening with the frustration and excitement welling within him.

"Who the hell do I think I am? I am the man of your life. To everyone else, you are dead. I found you, and I have claimed you. I'm sure that if you were home, your father would have chosen a husband for you whether you loved the man or not. Well, Fate has made the choice for you.

"This," he reached up and grabbed the shoulders of her dress, pulling it down until it hung about her hips and off the end of her arms, "is useless for you to wear out here. Plus, I'm wanting to take a look at what you're hiding under all of that cloth." His hands returned to grip her arms once more.

"You've got a fine body, what I can see of it. Soon, I'll be seeing all of it, then we'll be seeing how much passion can be had from it. You can get rid of the rest of that," he pointed to the skirts hanging off her hips, "or I'll get it off you."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

She was halted of her tirade by his firm grasp of her arms. It was just shy of being painful. Being wrenched around to face him didn’t help either. It was, however, enough to slow her. His words rung in her ears, words she did not want to believe. Even though, deep inside her, she knew he spoke the truth. The ship was lost, gone down, torn asunder. When it didn’t arrive at its port of call, she knew they would search for it and when it wasn’t found, the assumption would be that ship and all aboard were lost at sea. Pain flashed through her eyes. She stared at him.

“You need a hair cut and a shave.”

She blurted that out impetuously and then was mortified at her words. A light shade of pink covered her chest, rose into her cheeks and tipped her ears. Her whole demeanor, however, switched again when he yanked the material at her shoulder down to her hip.


"You've got a fine body, what I can see of it. Soon, I'll be seeing all of it, then we'll be seeing how much passion can be had from it. You can get rid of the rest of that," he pointed to the skirts hanging off her hips, "or I'll get it off you."


She stared at him. He didn’t just say what she thought he said, did he? She looked at him like he had lost his mind. She made to shove him away from her.

“You’re insane, you know that? You’ve been here alone too long, talking to coconuts and butterflies. My skirts are staying where they are and YOU … you… arugh!”

She whirled away from him, hellbent on finding something, anything. Her eyes spied a long stick nearby and she snatched it up, waving it at him.

“You’ll stay away from me, understand? You want to take me back to the beach and dump me? FINE. DO IT. I can’t stop you. Right now, I just want you to damn well leave me alone!”

 

[marauder13]

Garath liked seeing her face flush with colour, and was also a little surprised to see how farther afield the colour went. He promised himself to make her change that colour again, because it looked good on her. For the briefest of moments, it looked to Garath like the woman lost her inner spark. His words hit close to home, and it weighed down on her heavier than he through. That was until he told her what he had planned, and it roared into life again.

“You’re insane, you know that? You’ve been here alone too long, talking to coconuts and butterflies. My skirts are staying where they are and YOU … you… arugh!”

Garath laughed deeply at what she said, and how deeply her anger effected her. As he laughed, his grip on her loosened, and she pushed herself free. He saw her pick up a lengthy branch; thick enough to be of concern, but still think enough to break if swung hard enough. His laughing stopped as he pondered how serious the woman was with new new found weapon.

“You’ll stay away from me, understand? You want to take me back to the beach and dump me? FINE. DO IT. I can’t stop you. Right now, I just want you to damn well leave me alone!”

"Well, little lady, if you can't stop me from dumping you on the beach, then you can't stop me from doing anything else." He reached back and picked up the dagger he dropped earlier. He watched the stick as it wove its way through the air between them. When it was close to being between them, he lunged forward, his hand finding the gap between her belly at the fabric holding her dress on her hips. But his intent to make a long cut in the fabric failed, instead getting a small nick on the fabric where it held up her skirts as they tousled in the clash of wills.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

His laughter didn’t do a damn thing to ease her temper, if anything, it added fuel to the fire.

How dare he laugh at her?

She should have been forewarned. His words should have told her he was up to something, the wily bastard. Their eyes met and held in silent visual combat as he drew closer to her and the stick she wielded. The closer he came, the more erratic the branch she held waved in the air between them. She had a feeling he was going to do something, she just wasn’t sure what yet. When he lunged, she instinctively stumbled back with a small scream, swinging that branch at him. He managed to nick her gown and she froze for a moment, staring at him wide-eyed.

“You…. you…”

Her eyes flashed from the dagger in his hand to her skirts. And then she swung the branch again, this time aiming for his head. If she wasn’t completely trying before? She was deadly serious now. Damn him to hell and that dagger of his too. She was getting about fed up with his using it on her person. He had used it to cut open the bodice of her dress, then he had the audacity to rip said dress wide open and now... now he was using the damn thing on her skirts or trying to.

 

[marauder13]

If Garath had any doubts about the temper that lurked within the woman he took, he had none after he tried to remove her skirts. It seemed to infuse her entire being, which in some ways seemed to make her all the more attractive.

“You…. you…”

He smiled as she flustered her words. But he saw her eyes move to the dagger, then to her skirts. He was readying himself to go again, and properly deal with the last elements of her ruined attire.

Which is why he wasn't fully ready for her swing. The branch took him in the side of the head with an audible crack that set his ear ringing slightly. He staggered slightly before allowing himself to fall to the ground. The blow hurt, and he would sport a bruise for a few days, but he was otherwise fine. But he lay on the ground, partially on his side with the dagger partially pinned under his body.

He lay completely still, listening hard to what the woman did, while cracking open the eye closest to the ground to briefly confirm he would able to see some of the camp if he was game enough to try.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

She watched in silent horror as her captor slumped to the ground. Was he bleeding? Had she killed him? From her current distance and angle she had to squint to see if he was still breathing and it was hard to tell. With branch in hand she crept closer. She had been holding her breath. There wasn’t a desire to kill him or even hurt him but she wasn’t going to let him walk all over her or treat her as if she was just a piece of property. She was a person, after all. A human being. She expected to be treated as such. This was all his fault. If he hadn’t been manhandling her, she wouldn’t have felt the need to protect herself. She crept closer, close enough to poke his shoulder with her branch.

 

[marauder13]

All he could hear was the normal sounds of the forest. The rustle of the leaves in the wind and the occasional call of a bird. But he couldn't hear her. No exclamations nor gasps. No sounds of running feet.

A light crunch of dry leaves, followed by another soft footfall. He worked out she was closing on where he lay. Her intent was not to attack him, because she would have walked over quickly and laid into him with the branch. Was she wanting to make sure that he was dead or unconscious?

Those thoughts were pushed aside as he decided what his next move would be. He was tempted to keep still as though she knocked him out, to see what she would do with the chance she had been presented. Again, it left him open to being attacked or possibly killed. If she got close enough, he could continue with his unwrapping of her, followed by her eventual enjoyment.

He cracked open the eye closest to the ground, and caught sight of her skirts out of the corner of his eye. She was close enough for him to make his move. He sat himself up, brushing the branch aside, and grabbing for the top of her skirts. His hand hooked in the fabric on either side of where he managed to make a small cut. But when he pulled, the fabric tore a little, but mostly held together. The end result was the red haired woman being pulled on top of him.

"Well, maybe we can be like this later, but I'm more a traditional fellow," Garath chuckled as he quickly rolled her on her back, pressing his legs between hers. He was able to use the skirts to pin her legs while he fought to control her hands.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

She landed on him with a soft grunt. Staring down into his face in shock and yes, relief. She hadn’t killed him. She was so relieved with the notion that she hadn’t killed him or fatally wounded him that her current circumstances didn’t register until she was beneath him. Then she was struggling to throw him off her and seriously trying to stop him from binding her hands.

“Why you… sneaky, good for nothing, cantankerous, hairy, sorry excuse for a man. GET OFF ME.”

Moving her legs was impossible, her skirt and his legs prevented her from moving them. His last words finally registered within her brain and she went still, looking up at him wide eyes.

“What do you mean… you’re not thinking about…. HELL, I don’t even know you.”

She wasn’t a prude nor a virgin but damn it, he was assuming a hell of a lot here. She idly wondered how long he had been on this island and alone. He had also made her very aware of.... other.... things.

 

[marauder13]

The woman's description of him caused Garath to laugh a little until he needed his concentration again to keep the woman beneath him from slipping his grasp. Her struggles continued at full force until her sudden stop. His weight fell forward, pinning her arms above her head. He quickly moved them so her wrists were crossed, and held tightly in his left hand. When he turned his attention back to her face, he saw the look of shock in her widely opened eyes.

“What do you mean… you’re not thinking about…. HELL, I don’t even know you.”

"We'll know each other well enough very soon."

His free hand went to one of her breasts, pushing the ample fleshy mound so the nipple was pointing proudly skyward. He lowered his face, taking in a large mouthful of her displayed bounty. Noisily, he enjoyed the taste of her creamy firmness, his tongue working the contrasting point against the roof of his mouth. His teeth gently pressed against her flesh as he slowly drew back to just her nipple. Where she had been in his mouth was covered by a hot layer of his saliva, evidence of his enjoyment of her. He hummed and moaned as he continued to lick, suck and tease what little he had left in his mouth. He let her go with a loud pop before moving his face back to hers.

"You are very tasty, and I look forward to tasting the other soon. Thank you, Miss." He took her lips with his. They were rough, weathered even when suitably moistened. Like his lips, his kiss was rough and demanding. But it was also raw, passionate and very lusty. The skin adjoining her lips were much like her breast; covered in a layer of dampness as he sought to enjoy her mouth in a similar manner.

He pulled his face back, his eyes sparkling brightly with the pleasure and joy he had been experiencing. His right hand replaced the left which had been holding her wrists in place. His hand gently move stray hairs from her face, caressing her cheek softly with rough, battered fingertips.

"You are quite the beauty." His hand continued to caress her cheek, enjoying the warmth and smoothness of her face.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

What the hell did he mean----

She found out soon enough as she felt him grope her breast. Her struggles resumed. She tried bucking him off, but there were at least one thing to consider there. He had his mouth firmly planted onto her breast and she most assuredly did not want him accidentally biting her nipple off.

She hadn’t had the forethought to turn her face away and his own swooped down, his lips covering hers. She struggled to free her hands, but his grip was too tight. She endured. Did she have much of choice? Not now. Not yet.

She watched his face as he pulled back from hers. She was confused by what she saw there and when he touched her face, removing stray hairs from it, she was even more confused by his gentle touch.

"You are quite the beauty."

How would he know? He lived on some god-forsaken island. Heaven only knew when the last time was that he saw a woman. She wasn’t beautiful. Not like her sisters. She should be doing something, anything, to get away from him and all she could do was stare up into his face, a myriad of emotions flitting through her eyes.

Now what? She silently wondered.

 

[marauder13]

He looked down at her eyes, seeing the turmoil that floated there.

"What, you've not had a man other than your father tell you you're beautiful? Cause you are, Miss. Way better than anything that passes for a woman down in the villages."

His hand caressed her face a little more, before moving down to her other breast. He did the same as before, but with more care.

"I wont lie to you. I desire you strongly, and I mean to take joy with you. You have a fire within you that makes you very pretty, and I like that fire."

He moved his mouth down to her breast, again taking in as much as his mouth could, working her nipple with his tongue, moaning through her flesh as he savoured her once more. His enjoyment was tempered slightly, lacking the roughness of his previous enjoyment. He still lavished attention to the point of her breast, teasing the nipple with his tongue and his teeth when all he had left in his mouth was her nipple.

He returned to her face, catching her lips again in a rough kiss. But this kiss was simply unpracticed, lacking the experience that others might have. But he showed her his interest in her through their oral contact.

"I guess you were sailing to meet your husband. A stranger that you would walk you down the aisle of the church to meet, then take you home to make you his wife in his bed? Well, that fate is gone, and now your life is here. With me. Fight it if you want, it will make no difference in the end. I'm not going to let you go and get yourself killed. Not if I can help it."

He gave her a quick kiss, before staring her in the eyes.

"What will it be, Miss? Only me getting joy, or both of us getting joy?"