Leaves clung to her pale gold hair. The hood of her light blue cloak trailed down her thin back. Soft fur lined the beautiful garment. Piercing blue eyes stared at the tall man before her. A young maiden this one was. She had not yet seen many seasons. Her pales features held a certain command. An air of livelyness. A great wife this one would have made. She stood stockstill in the presence of the warrior. The choice of whether or not to run had yet to enter her thoughts. Shock had etched itself onto her beautiful face.
Blue tattoos snaked across his skin. A member of Cuhulainn's company. The coldness of his stare held many deaths. Battle scars wound their way across his bare flesh. Knife slashes, spear thrusts all had left their mark.. And none of their owners had seen the light of the next dawn. Long braids fell into his eyes. Deep, auburn brown locks fell upon his shoulders. The whisper of Mare tainted his ears. Desire raged in him. To possess that beauty. Make it his.
His hand reached out to caress her soft skin. She shuddered against his touch. Not daring to move. The waning sun cast it's light through the branches of the trees. A stark pattern falling on the two figures. The warrior grasped her wrist roughly. The gentle curve of her lips arched in a gimace of pain. Tears sprang unbidden into her clear blue eyes. A smirk traced it's way across his features. The cold fire in his eyes flaring with her every struggle. She would be his well deserved prize, the one Cuhulainn could not give him.
His hand held tightly to her frail wrist. The well developed muscles in his arms barely contracted. He pressed closer to her. Their bodies barely touching. She closed her eyes tightly, whispering a soft prayer to her Goddess. Moving in closer, he brushed his lips over hers. The young woman tried to pull away. The sadistic smirk grew into an inane smile. Running his work roughened fingers along her jaw, he tilted her face towards his. The warrior's dry lips caustically pulled at her's. Muffled screams issued from the young woman. The press of his mouth to her's stifling the protest.
Pulling at her lengthy skirts, he forced her against one of the ancient trees. It's bark held her up. He tore at her furiously. The cloth fell to the forest floor with a sigh. Cold night air brushed across her naked skin. Only the comfort of the fur-lined cloak was left to her. The warrior forced her to comply with his needs. He thrust into her vigorously, tearing away her innocence.
Like a hare in a hound's mouth she writhed against his touch. The rough bark bit deeply into her back. She felt him tense against her. Mare's gift ready to be bestowed. Clawing with her nails she continued the futile struggle. From it's vantage point in the tree, the raven beheld these actions.
***
Blue tattoos snaked across his skin. A member of Cuhulainn's company. The coldness of his stare held many deaths. Battle scars wound their way across his bare flesh. Knife slashes, spear thrusts all had left their mark.. And none of their owners had seen the light of the next dawn. Long braids fell into his eyes. Deep, auburn brown locks fell upon his shoulders. The whisper of Mare tainted his ears. Desire raged in him. To possess that beauty. Make it his.
His hand reached out to caress her soft skin. She shuddered against his touch. Not daring to move. The waning sun cast it's light through the branches of the trees. A stark pattern falling on the two figures. The warrior grasped her wrist roughly. The gentle curve of her lips arched in a gimace of pain. Tears sprang unbidden into her clear blue eyes. A smirk traced it's way across his features. The cold fire in his eyes flaring with her every struggle. She would be his well deserved prize, the one Cuhulainn could not give him.
His hand held tightly to her frail wrist. The well developed muscles in his arms barely contracted. He pressed closer to her. Their bodies barely touching. She closed her eyes tightly, whispering a soft prayer to her Goddess. Moving in closer, he brushed his lips over hers. The young woman tried to pull away. The sadistic smirk grew into an inane smile. Running his work roughened fingers along her jaw, he tilted her face towards his. The warrior's dry lips caustically pulled at her's. Muffled screams issued from the young woman. The press of his mouth to her's stifling the protest.
Pulling at her lengthy skirts, he forced her against one of the ancient trees. It's bark held her up. He tore at her furiously. The cloth fell to the forest floor with a sigh. Cold night air brushed across her naked skin. Only the comfort of the fur-lined cloak was left to her. The warrior forced her to comply with his needs. He thrust into her vigorously, tearing away her innocence.
Like a hare in a hound's mouth she writhed against his touch. The rough bark bit deeply into her back. She felt him tense against her. Mare's gift ready to be bestowed. Clawing with her nails she continued the futile struggle. From it's vantage point in the tree, the raven beheld these actions.
***