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I woke slowly, the warmth of the furs lingering against my skin, and for a few breaths I did not move. It was only when I reached across the sleeping ledge and found the place beside me empty that I realized Scar was already gone. I pushed myself upright and let the furs fall from my shoulders, my eyes dropping almost at once to the kef he had painted upon my flesh with my own ink. I stared at it…
The morning air carried a sharper chill than it had only days before, and She drew the fur more closely around her shoulders as she stepped from the cave with the woven basket Scar had made for her. Her fingers brushed over its rough rim as she walked, and once again she found herself thinking of his hands. He had woven the basket himself, patiently working the material until it was strong enough…
I woke to find Scar was already up and about, and I laid back in the furs with a satisfied smile while thinking about our time in the pool beneath the waterfall last eve. The memory lingered far longer than the warmth of the fire, and I found myself smiling despite the chill that had settled into the cave during the night. There was something about knowing he was nearby, moving about in the early…
The forest had not yet surrendered to winter, but She could feel its coming in the bones of the land. Each morning the creek ran colder against the stones, and frost silvered the fallen leaves before the first light reached the trees. The last of the great bosks had already begun their migration, and the forest paths were increasingly empty beneath the bare branches. In the traditions of the nort…
The morning was yet young when she passed beyond the shadow of the cave and entered the Northern Forest, the chill of the season already touching the air. She carried upon her arm the gathering basket Scar had woven from willow-like shoots, bark fiber, and tough forest reeds, its workmanship plain but strong, suited to the hands of those who lived by the forest rather than by the markets of the c…
The three moons of Gor hung above the forest that night, pale and watchful through the breaks in the canopy, their light silvering the tops of the ancient trees and laying long shadows across the ground before the cave. Outside the mouth of the cavern, a smaller fire burned low beneath the crude iron pot, its heat slowly rendering the animal fat she had collected for tallow candles. The scent of…