Ashe was familiar with heat. Raised in the desert, the sun radiant gold in the sky, the wind smooth and hot, she had never been uncomfortable in higher temperatures.
But this was a completely different kind of heat.
The Golmore jungle had no sun, but thick foliage filtering the barest of light, but that didn't stop the heat. It was thick, shimmering wet, oppressive and smothering. The party trudged along, Fran the only one unaffected, but being Viera she was rarely affected by anything, especially not the climate of her homeland. The rest of them swam through the humidity in ever weakening strokes, weapons heavy in their hands and clothes plastered to their skin.
They turned a corner along the path, and it was almost amusing when they all let loose a simultaneous groan at the sight of the three Malboros oozing their way toward them. With a determined grunt, she leapt into the fray, gritting her teeth in frustration. Basch was to her left, blocking the snapping tentacles of one Marlboro, his sword slashing at any opportunity. To her right was Penelo, backing away slowly to draw away another, reloading her crossbow with well practiced ease. Ashe faced the one in the center, parrying its attacks, letting loose a snarl as she thrust her sword into its side. It shrieked, black blood seeping from its wound, and it threw itself forward, slamming into her full force. They landed with a thud, Ashe nearly screaming at the feel of tentacles running slimy against her skin. Its eye was open, glaring rage, and with a rattling breath, it released a cloud of noxious, purple smoke. She tried to hold her breath, but the Marlboro was on her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs, and her mouth wrenched open, the poison burning its way down her throat. Her vision wavered, her body wracked with ailments, voices filtering through her mind.
"Penelo is down, Vaan get in there!"
"Her Majesty!"
"I'll take care of her. Fran-"
"I will ensure their safety. You must take her now."
Her body was floating, she swore she could smell leather and spice, a worried hand stroking her hair. Then there was movement. Then nothing.
Darkness is fluid. Her body is returning to health, but adrenalin is rushing through her, blazing in her veins. Fire burns in her gut, and her eyes snap open.
A face is in front of her, masculine, and her emotions flail. Confusion rattles her mind, her skin glowing dark red, violence boiling within her. Hot. Hungry. She sits up, snarling, the male before her she cannot recognize, but his scent is one of strength and confidence, and her base instincts swell in challenge.
The male is speaking, sound beyond her comprehension, and it infuriates her even more, snapping her jaws in aggression. She leaps to her feet, crouching low. He moves, eyes focus on her face, hand slowly reaching toward something on the ground. A weapon, she fumes inwardly, and with a fierce growl, attacks. Teeth and nails are her only weapons, striking him when she can. The male grabs her wrists, trying to hold her, but she twists, sinking low and ramming her shoulder into his gut. He falls onto his back, but recovers quickly, jumping to his feet into a defensive stance. She leaps, nails scouring his cheek, her inner beast roaring satisfaction. He throws her off, and she slides on the ground, spinning onto her feet, energy endless. Heat rages in her, igniting her blood, violent and heady, purely animal. She rushes the male again, gnashing her teeth, but with lightning quickness he ducks, flipping her onto her back and he was there, straddling her hips and hands gripping her wrists. She was defeated.
She glares at him, the male who would dare conquer her, furious at her defeat. But she acknowledges his victory, demure with averted eyes, her breath catching.
The heat changes.
His scent hits her again, a dominant male, strong and young. Worthy. She purrs in acquiescence, acceding to his domination. She moves, restless, violence still smoldering beneath her skin, her gut twisting with need. She mewls, desperate, and when she feels his hands just barely loosen, she snatches her wrists from his grasp, grabbing his hair and slamming him against her mouth. She kisses him fiercely, tongues and teeth and hungry whimpers, and within moments he responds, pulling her hard against him and attacking her mouth with his. She writhes beneath him, keening low at his taste, then his mouth moves to her throat, licking and nipping at her skin. Her nails rake his back, digging into his shoulders in a violent plea. He makes his way to her jugular, hand sneaking to her hair, yanking her head back sharp to expose her throat as his teeth bit into her flesh, hard.
She shrieks in ecstasy, pain and pleasure flaring dark bright, and with a buck of her hips and a desperate quickness, their positions are reversed. She straddles his hips, snarling hunger, bruising each other with their ferocity. She grinds against him and he gasps, eyes rolling back in his head as she nips his ear, hands clutching his shoulders. She sits up, head thrown back, riding him as he growls possessive. Her hands sneak to his hips, and her confusion intensifies, mystified by the strange contraptions covering his skin. She starts fiddling with them, trying to reach his flesh, attributing his sudden tension to mounting need. She snarls in frustration, her fingers ready to tear through fabric, when he sits up with a sudden movement, his hand pressing a cloth to her face. She tries to free herself, terror making her thrash, but as she breathes hard in panic, something salty pervades her senses. Her limbs relax, her mind slowly clearing, and with a sigh of exhaustion, she begins slipping into darkness once more. Her eyes flutter, his face lined with worry and something impossibly deep, then faded on a whisper.
"Ashe."