Calvo is surrounded

A slow, detailed dream of Twelve, Eighteen, and the alien girl locked in sweaty, passionate lovemaking was interrupted by a sharp pain in Calvo's side. When the pain came again, he opened his eyes to the dawn light.

As his eyes adjusted to the relative brightness, Calvo saw many primitively-clad blue warriors standing in a circle around him. They carried razor-sharp, stone-tipped spears; the butt end of one was what poked his ribs. There were at least a dozen of them.

One in the front with more beads, feathers, stones, and random animal parts strung on necklaces, tied in his hair, attached to his limited clothing took a step toward the former prisoner and began speaking. Calvo understood nothing, splaying his hands wide and shaking his head, trying to convey his lack of understanding. Four warriors strode forward with lengths of cord in their hands. Two of them lifted him to his feet, while the other two bind his hands behind his back. Calvo could think of no useful way to resist, so he just let them. Hopefully, this was a different tribe than his blue lover was from. He didn't want them angry with him, especially not over one of their own women. He had no idea of their religious or sexual morality, after all.

Once his hands were bound, they tied the cord around his feet, hobbling him, so he could walk, but not run. He thought this twine seemed very loose and flimsy; he was quite sure he could break it easily, given a chance. One of the tribesmen took a gourd jug of water and poured it over his hands and the cord around his feet. Calvo watched as it turned green, swelled, and tightened on his wrists and ankles. He saw small green shoots start to grow from what he could now see was a vine of some sort. What had been a two millimeter cord was now a full centimeter in thickness. The knots on his ankles looked like the vine had grown together, melding into a single piece. Once it was finished growing, one of his captors yanked on his wrists -- it was very solid. Looking at his feet and testing it himself, it felt like a very strong rope bound his legs, and he was no longer certain he could break out.

The head warrior, the one that had originally stepped toward him, gave him a long drink from his water gourd. Then he said something, and the rest started leaving the area. Someone behind Calvo shoved on his shoulder, making him stumble. To avoid falling, he had to start trotting behind the native ahead of him. They set out at a good clip into the jungle.