Roxton stopped dead in his tracks and whirled around in frustration as he heard Marguerite's fifth heavy sigh of the afternoon. His sudden stop caused the heiress to nearly collide with him.
"What?!" Marguerite said defensively, her guard immediately up. She felt horrible.
She was exhausted and was walking around in such a haze that she had run straight into Roxton, not realizing he had stopped in the middle of the path. She was beginning to regret her earlier decision to pretend everything was OK. When Roxton had awakened her earlier, she had been sorely tempted to refuse this little excursion. However, chores were chores and there would have been no graceful way to get out of hunting duty without giving away her secret. She smiled to herself, remembering the soft, tender kiss to her forehead that had awakened her from dreams filled with similar kisses. If I have to be here trudging through the jungle feeling bloody awful, at least it's with John.
Roxton couldn't put his finger on anything in particular, but something was most definitely...off. Though he sometimes felt that Marguerite lived to torment him, her uncharacteristic silence was making him uneasy. He had had to slow his pace quite a bit in an effort to help her keep up. They still had not found any prey and were making very poor time. In general, hikes through the jungle with Marguerite normally led to caustic remarks regarding the furious pace he kept; nevertheless, she generally had no problem keeping up. He attributed the sighs and dawdling to a halfhearted attempt on Marguerite's part to protest her rude awakening three hours earlier. When he had awakened her from her nap he had expected the typical verbal assault that was Marguerite's stock-in-trade. He was shocked when she simply got up without a sound, changed her clothing, grabbed her rifle and followed him to the elevator. Every time I feel I've got her figured out, she throws me for a loop. Serves
me right, but I wouldn't change her for anything in the world. "Are you alright?" Roxton questioned tentatively.
"You stop right in the middle of the blasted path glaring at me, just to ask me if I'm OK?" she asked him harshly, trying to muster up enough enthusiasm for her typical biting remarks.
"Well, pardon me for caring, your highness," and with that Roxton whirled back around and resumed his steady stride through the jungle.
"Can this day possibly get any better?" Marguerite mumbled to no one in particular.
Almost as if some divine source with a cruel sense of humor had been listening, Marguerite heard the crashing of jungle foliage followed by the unmistakable trumpet of a T-Rex. Her complete and utter frustration with the entire predicament almost led to a foolhardy decision to stand and defend herself with the lone rifle she carried. As reason quickly prevailed, Marguerite whirled around and started out in a dead run, frantic to catch up with Roxton. She had assumed that he would only be a short distance up the path and was concerned when she realized that she had been running for several minutes without catching up to him. Her breath was coming in short pants, and she knew that in her weakened state she wouldn't be able to maintain her pace for much longer. When her path was ultimately blocked by a shallow river she stopped, briefly, to catch her breath, noticing the racing of her heart and the sheen of perspiration that covered most of her body. The day had grown colder,
and an errant gust of cool air sent a shiver up her spine causing her to wrap her arms around herself in an effort to stay warm.
"Roxton, where are you?" she whispered to herself. She wanted desperately to call out for him but was afraid of attracting unwanted attention from the T-Rex. A second roar from the large dinosaur had her coming to immediate attention until she realized that the sound was coming from much further away. "Go pick on someone your own size, you overgrown iguana," Marguerite said as relief flooded through her.
"Now is that any way to address the king of the jungle, Marguerite?" came a familiar and very welcome voice from behind her. Turning around slowly, careful not to let the worry she'd been feeling show on her face, Marguerite faced the man she desperately loved as he stood smiling on the other side of the river.
"I had always assumed that you were the king of the jungle, Lord Roxton," Marguerite replied with a smile. As much as she wanted to be angry with him for abandoning her in the first place, her heart just wasn't in it. She was simply thankful he was safe. The adrenalin rush produced by her mad dash from the dinosaur was beginning to fade and sheer exhaustion was beginning to set in. All she wanted to do was sit down and rest for a while, preferably somewhere warm.
"Well, as your king, I command you to join me on this side of the river so that we can continue hunting for some food. Don't think that this frolic has gotten you off the hook, my dear."
"John, can't we rest here for a few minutes?" Marguerite asked mustering up every drop of persuasive power she possessed. A few minutes of rest and I'll be fine, she thought to herself, trying to ignore the dizziness she was feeling.
"Come on, Marguerite. You know we'll never here the end of it if we go back to the treehouse empty handed. We'll give it another hour and then head back, OK?"
Knowing that there was no way out of the situation, Marguerite began crossing the stream, carefully stepping from one flat stone to another. She would wonder later if it had been an unstable rock, the awful dizziness she was feeling, or a combination of the two that caused her to lose her balance. Regardless of the reason, the damage was done as Roxton watched Marguerite flail backwards and land unceremoniously, rump first, in the cold water of the stream. His initial concern for her well-being turned to amusement as he listened to the string of curses issue from his beloved's lips. It took every ounce of effort he possessed to keep from laughing as he went and fished a soaking wet Marguerite out of the middle of the stream.
"What?!" Marguerite said defensively, her guard immediately up. She felt horrible.
She was exhausted and was walking around in such a haze that she had run straight into Roxton, not realizing he had stopped in the middle of the path. She was beginning to regret her earlier decision to pretend everything was OK. When Roxton had awakened her earlier, she had been sorely tempted to refuse this little excursion. However, chores were chores and there would have been no graceful way to get out of hunting duty without giving away her secret. She smiled to herself, remembering the soft, tender kiss to her forehead that had awakened her from dreams filled with similar kisses. If I have to be here trudging through the jungle feeling bloody awful, at least it's with John.
Roxton couldn't put his finger on anything in particular, but something was most definitely...off. Though he sometimes felt that Marguerite lived to torment him, her uncharacteristic silence was making him uneasy. He had had to slow his pace quite a bit in an effort to help her keep up. They still had not found any prey and were making very poor time. In general, hikes through the jungle with Marguerite normally led to caustic remarks regarding the furious pace he kept; nevertheless, she generally had no problem keeping up. He attributed the sighs and dawdling to a halfhearted attempt on Marguerite's part to protest her rude awakening three hours earlier. When he had awakened her from her nap he had expected the typical verbal assault that was Marguerite's stock-in-trade. He was shocked when she simply got up without a sound, changed her clothing, grabbed her rifle and followed him to the elevator. Every time I feel I've got her figured out, she throws me for a loop. Serves
me right, but I wouldn't change her for anything in the world. "Are you alright?" Roxton questioned tentatively.
"You stop right in the middle of the blasted path glaring at me, just to ask me if I'm OK?" she asked him harshly, trying to muster up enough enthusiasm for her typical biting remarks.
"Well, pardon me for caring, your highness," and with that Roxton whirled back around and resumed his steady stride through the jungle.
"Can this day possibly get any better?" Marguerite mumbled to no one in particular.
Almost as if some divine source with a cruel sense of humor had been listening, Marguerite heard the crashing of jungle foliage followed by the unmistakable trumpet of a T-Rex. Her complete and utter frustration with the entire predicament almost led to a foolhardy decision to stand and defend herself with the lone rifle she carried. As reason quickly prevailed, Marguerite whirled around and started out in a dead run, frantic to catch up with Roxton. She had assumed that he would only be a short distance up the path and was concerned when she realized that she had been running for several minutes without catching up to him. Her breath was coming in short pants, and she knew that in her weakened state she wouldn't be able to maintain her pace for much longer. When her path was ultimately blocked by a shallow river she stopped, briefly, to catch her breath, noticing the racing of her heart and the sheen of perspiration that covered most of her body. The day had grown colder,
and an errant gust of cool air sent a shiver up her spine causing her to wrap her arms around herself in an effort to stay warm.
"Roxton, where are you?" she whispered to herself. She wanted desperately to call out for him but was afraid of attracting unwanted attention from the T-Rex. A second roar from the large dinosaur had her coming to immediate attention until she realized that the sound was coming from much further away. "Go pick on someone your own size, you overgrown iguana," Marguerite said as relief flooded through her.
"Now is that any way to address the king of the jungle, Marguerite?" came a familiar and very welcome voice from behind her. Turning around slowly, careful not to let the worry she'd been feeling show on her face, Marguerite faced the man she desperately loved as he stood smiling on the other side of the river.
"I had always assumed that you were the king of the jungle, Lord Roxton," Marguerite replied with a smile. As much as she wanted to be angry with him for abandoning her in the first place, her heart just wasn't in it. She was simply thankful he was safe. The adrenalin rush produced by her mad dash from the dinosaur was beginning to fade and sheer exhaustion was beginning to set in. All she wanted to do was sit down and rest for a while, preferably somewhere warm.
"Well, as your king, I command you to join me on this side of the river so that we can continue hunting for some food. Don't think that this frolic has gotten you off the hook, my dear."
"John, can't we rest here for a few minutes?" Marguerite asked mustering up every drop of persuasive power she possessed. A few minutes of rest and I'll be fine, she thought to herself, trying to ignore the dizziness she was feeling.
"Come on, Marguerite. You know we'll never here the end of it if we go back to the treehouse empty handed. We'll give it another hour and then head back, OK?"
Knowing that there was no way out of the situation, Marguerite began crossing the stream, carefully stepping from one flat stone to another. She would wonder later if it had been an unstable rock, the awful dizziness she was feeling, or a combination of the two that caused her to lose her balance. Regardless of the reason, the damage was done as Roxton watched Marguerite flail backwards and land unceremoniously, rump first, in the cold water of the stream. His initial concern for her well-being turned to amusement as he listened to the string of curses issue from his beloved's lips. It took every ounce of effort he possessed to keep from laughing as he went and fished a soaking wet Marguerite out of the middle of the stream.