The Theft

She was in the habit of stealing.

Seriously, how else could a prey survive without occasionally lifting food from the Hunters? And then there was the whole issue of clothing. Well, not really clothing, since they weren’t allowed any. But the material for bangles and necklaces and little strips of cloth that she wrapped around her waist didn’t grow on trees. So she learned to steal from the men in the village and in the camps.

She made her way to the village now, to one of her favorite cabins to visit. Pausing next to the cabin, she pressed her ear to the side to make sure no one was inside. Satisfied that the cabin was empty, she climbed in through the unlocked window and grinned wide as she perused the fresh stock of goods in one corner.

First, an apple was snagged, and she took a healthy bite out of it before taking a basket and setting it on the floor, planning to fill it up with all manner of goodies. Still munching on the apple, she added bananas and chocolate to the basket, then tossed in some beads. No doubt the Hunter had been planning to bribe some prey into having sex with him, because he surely couldn’t shoot.

Once the basket was loaded, she picked it up and headed back towards the window. But on the way, she spied a tube sitting on the bedside table. She leaned in close to look at it and, deciding it looked interesting, added it to her stash of stolen stuff. She then climbed through the window and hurried away to her little hiding spot among the trees.

Settling on the grass carpet, she glanced up at the limb-ed canopy that covered her “home,” the place where she hid and ate and slept. She reached into the basket, intending to put things away in the hollow of the nearest tree, when her fingers wrapped around the tube. She pulled it out and unscrewed the lid, lifting it to her nose to smell it.

“Oooh,” she moaned softly, as whatever was in the tube smelled divine. It surely must be something to eat, she thought, since it smelled like fruit and candy. She squirted some of the substance onto her fingers and then licked it off. Almost immediately afterwards, she noticed that her fingers were burning.

It wasn’t a totally unpleasant sensation, but it was definitely odd. Her brow wrinkled over it, and then she realized — her tongue was burning too! And this was most definitely unpleasant! She hurriedly drank some water, which didn’t help, then jumped up to run to the Healer’s hut. She tried to tell the Healer what was wrong, but it was hard to do with a swollen tongue.

Meanwhile, across the island in the village, a Hunter in his cabin called out to his owned prey. “Girl, have you seen that intensifying lube I used on you last night?”

 

 

 

 

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Hunter for Hire

She trotted near the man on the hill, stopping close enough that he would hear her, but far enough that he couldn’t grab her suddenly.

“H-hunter… d-don’t ssshoot…” She spoke clearly, though her words trembled with the fear that filled her body, very aware of what the man could and would do to her if he caught her.

The man turned, and it seemed as though his hand inadvertently reached for his bow, though perhaps it was just her nervousness that made it seem so. The surprised lift of his brow, however, was not her imagination.

“Yes?” he said in a rich baritone voice, the sound of which sent shivers down her spine. Still, she would do this. She straightened.

“I’ve a bargain to strike with you, Hunter.”

“Oh? And what is that, prey?”

“I wish you to kill my owner.”

The man stared at her in shock, the widening of his eyes pronounced in the darkness of his face. Then suddenly, he threw his head back, ripples of laughter rumbling free.

She stood, hands on her hips, glaring at the man. Really, this was no laughing matter. Finally, he seemed empty of laughter and looked down at her with curiosity shining from his eyes.

“And why do you wish your owner dead, girl?”

She sneered. “Isn’t it enough that the man dared to lay claim to me?” Anger welled in her, threatening to choke her. She breathed in… and out… trying to calm herself. Such haughty behavior would not get her what she wished.

She spoke once more. “I don’t know the man. He registered me, and I’ve not seen him since. If I am forced into being owned, I prefer someone who would at least care to feed me.”

That part was true at least. Food was sometimes hard to come by in the fields. Although… she would gladly go hungry rather than be owned by some man.

The nearby Hunter stroked his short beard as he regarded her with great amusement. “And what do I get in return for this act?”

She sucked in a breath, hand dropping to her belly to stroke over the rounded curve, stating simply, “My womb.”

The man stared at her, and she continued. “I will come to you, willingly, when I am next fertile.”

He smiled, as though that idea had some merit to him. He shifted, and the movement caused her to draw back slightly in alarm. His next words did nothing to soothe her.

“What if I kill him and register you for myself?”

She drew herself to her full height, which — granted — wasn’t much, and tossed her head haughtily before narrowing her eyes at the man.

“I would make your life a living hell, and make sure that anyone but you gave me a child.”

He believed her, but her threat didn’t scare him. He was a good hunter. Still, she intrigued him, and he knew the product of their union would be a fine child.

“You have a deal. I will kill him.”

A Visit from the Hag

The Hag comes to Agapeo in a very rare visit. -- Photo by Yummy.

The Hag comes to Agapeo in a very rare visit. — Photo by Yummy.

The hag arrives from her island to see how the land of Agapeo flourishes.

Yummy gasps, paling in shock at seeing the Hag, lowering her head to her as she mumbles a greeting.

Hag: I have heard many good things about you, my little sweetie.

Yummy looks up at her with wide eyes as she shifts from foot to foot, blushing softly. “You have? Do you… do you remember me? You were the one to name me…”

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The Wagging Tongue

Yummy at work in the King’s Court.

She leaned back against the tall stack of valuable books, the fire warming the side of her freckled leg as she stared down at the parchment in her hands, trying desperately to think of something… anything… to write.

She moistened the tip of the quill, dipped it into ink, and then slowly began to write. “One day, I had asked a Hunter to leash me and pull me to the tavern, where a girl was standing that I needed to speak to. Due to….” She paused here, lips quirking with a silent laugh before she continued. “…. high use, I was sore and stiff, making it hard for me to walk ((really due to lag). When we reached the tavern, I told the Hunter named Ghost that he should unleash me, or the Branded might think he was trying to register me. In which case, the Hunter would be taking a quick journey to Hades.”

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The Insane Hunter

[I thought this was cutely funny, so I’m sharing it here.]

Yummy growls with anger and smacks his hand away, grabbing at her clothing.
Yummy: Did you ask my owner’s permission to use me?!
The Hunter rips it away from her and throws it into the corner of the hut.
Hunter: I need none, wench, for I know you are not owned. Who but me would want such a tiresome female?
Yummy: I am owned. And if I am tiresome, you should release me.
Hunter: Yes, by the King as his scribe, I know. But he does not use you.
Yummy: No, by the land. You should ask its permission.
The Hunter laughs for a moment, then stomps his foot on the ground.
Yummy perks a brow at the Hunter’s behavior.
Hunter: Hear me, land! May I take this wench? Answer only if not; keep silent if she is mine.
Yummy listens.
The Hunter listens.
Yummy: Oh, do you hear that?
Hunter: I hear nothing. The land does not want you, wench.
Yummy: No no… You are old, and your hearing is going.
Yummy: The land said, “Release the Yummy!
The Hunter tries to hear, straining his ears.
Yummy tugs on the leash hopefully.
Hunter: No sweetness, there is no reply.
Yummy: I heard it. Not my fault you have water in your ears… or wax.. or your fingers.
Hunter: But even if I released you, the door is locked.
Yummy: You could unlock it.
Hunter: If you behave, I might.
The Hunter takes off his bow.
Yummy: I am behaving. I have not kicked you.
The Hunter licks his lip, tasting the blood.
Hunter: Did you not bite me, wench?
Yummy: Oh…. that. But you tried to kiss me, like I was a girlfriend…
Hunter: So it’s kisses you do not like.
Yummy: I do not like being in this small room either. You should take me outside so I can breath the clean air.
Hunter: Then I will spend no time romancing you.
Yummy: And let me go?! Yay!
Hunter: I will just take what I need.
Yummy: a bath?

[Later, after…. ahem]

Hunter: Stay, sweetness, and be mine.
Yummy laughs. “I cannot be yours.”
Hunter: The land did not call out for you.
Yummy: It did.
Hunter: Then I must kill the land to own you.
Yummy glares at him. “You will do no such thing!”

[And a few minutes later, after I ran to wash off in Monet Pond]

Yummy: Now what?
The Hunter sits shooting arrows into the ground.
Yummy swims into the rushes.
Hunter: Listen to me, land. I mean to take from you that which I desire.
Yummy facepalms. “You are insane. And I am going to bed…”
The Hunter shoots more arrows into the ground.
The Hunter looks up at the sweet voice.
Yummy: I will tell my sister on you!
Hunter: Goodnight, precious.
Yummy mutters. “Insane… age has worn down his brain…”
The Hunter smiles.
Hunter: Insanely smitten, yes.
Yummy: You say that to all the girls.
Hunter: There are none that I desire, other that what I can not have.
Yummy shakes her head at him before running off to bed.

Vengeance

She woke early, springing out of her bed with an eagerness not seen on most mornings. She washed and dressed quickly before leaving the small camp she had made hers for the night.

His habits were known to her; she had watched him often enough, seen him traipsing through the fields in his quest to capture and use the female prey. And the trap was a simple one: some rope, a trip wire and the weight of a branch. She set it up and then hid behind some bushes, patiently waiting.

She didn’t have much of a wait. The Hunter came running through the bushes, bow drawn, and with a THHUNG, he was suspended in mid-air, hanging upside down. She grabbed the bow away, tossing it into the brush, then admired her catch. The sight of his vivid blue tunic hanging over his stomach, leaving his legs and crotch exposed, cock dangling like a side of beef, brought a momentary smile to her freckled face.

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The Loot of Woot(an)

I was relaxing this afternoon when [the Hunter] Wootan came along to tell me about a couple events he recently had encountered.

The first one is a story about a new hunter who wanted to challenge Wootan for his girl and the other involved a confrontation with a couple of brandeds.

The following record is what he related to me of those events:

Hobbz: So, tell me about the first situation.

Wootan: I spotted Unnr standing outside the healer’s hut talking to Irk, and knowing how highly prized the Natives are, I decided to down her and bring her back to the Stabbin’ Cabin. Well, some new hunter decided he might try his hand at downing Wootan and taking his prize. Oh nay nay! Mama grizzlies have NOTHING on ole Wootan when you come between him and his prey! I threw 7 arrows in him quite suddenly and he seemed to be lagging, so I spared him; figuring my point had been made.

Hobbz: ::raises an eyebrow, drawn into the story:: Nice. How did that go?

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