Her steps were swift and nearly silent upon the mossy undergrowth of the forest. She followed her quarry with a precision only a hunter could have. The hoof beats were loud and rang in her ears, still she kept on, determined to keep up. She�d already wounded the beast. Surely it would fall soon.
It slowed, swayed, and finally came to a stop. It weaved slightly, its sides heaving with its labored breath. She stood stalk still, her spear poised in her hand, ready to strike. The buckskin loincloth and top kept her nearly invisible. Midnight tresses gleamed in the early morning sun, her coppery flesh seemed to mask her even further. She held her breath, waiting. When it began to move, she thrust the spear, sending it in a sailing arc toward the deer. It landed with a solid thud in the throat of the poor creature, causing it to stumble and moments later, to fall.
With a triumphant cry, she darted forward. She dropped to her knees next to the deer�s head. The head of the deer clasped in her hands, she turned the nose upward as she leaned down. Her mouth covered the moist, black orifice and she sucked its breath. She rocked back on her heels, her eyes half closed and a smile of pleasure on her lips. A soft, almost purring, sound rumbled in her throat, and she visibly shivered. Onyx eyes fluttered open and she leaned forward, making soft cooing sounds at the deer as slender fingers curled about the shaft of the spear and yanked it free. Shortly after, she leaned down, covering the fresh wound with her lips and suckled gently. Her tongue flickered over her lips, drawing any remaining drops of blood into her mouth. Contented, she sat back, examining her kill.
She hadn�t noticed that she now had company. The men were standing in the shadows of the trees, watching her with leering grins. As she took the small bone knife from the crude sheath at her hips, they leaped forward, each catching an arm. She screamed in rage, instantly kicking out and slashing with her knife. It took some effort, but they�d wrestled her to the ground, and freed the knife from her grasping fingers. One man kneeled, one knee placed firmly in her mid back as he lashed rope about her wrists. The other man watched.
�This aughta hold the slut for a bit� He grinned to the other, who nodded in return.
�Aye. But, she�ll be free soon�a good hunter she is.� He grinned back, then moved to inspect the kill. Expert hands slid over the carcass, examining the precision of the wounds. �Verra good indeed.�
She was not stilled by the mere addition of rope, however, and continued to struggle beneath the man�s weight, wordless cries of rage were torn from her throat.
�Feisty one she is, Master aught to like tha��
�Aye. Right then�we should head back. The party�ll be waitin� fer us.�