It seems you must bathe again...

Chapter 7 : The Moon, the Stars, the Fire

Ah, but this is heaven...

You are floating on your back within His falls. Directly above you is an impossibly full moon. There is a glowing, rapturous part of you that cannot even remember whether this is the natural, expected state of Myr's be-diamonded splendor. Even the nighttime waters are warm, caressing, soothing... The pounding falls are but a gentle whisper, a tossing lullaby by which you might fall asleep even as you float. Perhaps you should, at that. For this deep, velvety, darkness could only lead to the heavenliest of dreams.

But a sharp whistle pulls you back to earthen reality. You raise your head, dimly reminiscing about a naked, voluptuous woman, a glorious battle, and a foreign kiss.

Ak'horra stands above you, a towering figure upon the rocks beside your cradling basin, but she's not naked anymore. Her massive chest is once again constrained by the tight pull of animal leathers; her hips and crotch perfectly framed and embraced by the triangular stretch of her bottoms. Her hands are cleanly washed; her back holistically treated and cleaned. You remember; you washed off the vile goblin blood together, but she kept her distance this time. Perhaps reverently... Perhaps teasingly... Your eyes flicker up her strong, feminine curves. Without her waistcloth, the white, powdery paint on her cheek and thighs seems to glow within the moonlight as is if the stripes and swirls were bioluminescent. Well, you ponder absently, maybe they are...

"Ah?" you hear yourself mutter. at last

"Mm," she acknowledges with a knowing smirk, her hand beckoning you to follow her into the depths of the forest.

"Ah? Aye," you concede. Despite the heavenly caress of the pool, the promise in her smoldering golden eyes - and that earlier promise you silently made to each other beneath the dark foliage - might be its own form of heaven. The sway of her shapely ass as she tosses her thick hair back over her shoulder and saunters away is only more reassurance. The leathers of her bottoms are nicely wedged and tucked so as to leave almost all of her ass bare... tight... and flexing with each step up the steep, rocky bank. "Fuck," you whisper beneath your breath. "What a day."

Finally you propel yourself along your back through the water until the stony shore claps your back. Dragging your loose, languid limbs into the cooling night breeze, you shake your head and limbs of the cascading water, striding towards your untouched pile of leathers and armor. You take a moment to at least partially dry yourself with the fabric of your thick, forgotten cloak, then don your own lower leathers and gather your silver plate. Bundling them all together and binding them with your belt, you lift your holy sword within its scabbard and ascend the steep hill as if you were finally going home. Perhaps that would be true heaven after all this... Still, under the circumstances, you don't mind a bit of a delay.

When at last you crown the unforgiving, rocky shore and cross the boundary of the forest proper, you wonder how tricky it might be to follow the orc's trail. As it turns out, it's remarkably simple, as a bright orange beacon is already burning perhaps a hundred paces through the woods. You even think you spot the hefty sway of Ak'horra's thick, luscious body as it rocks back and forth between the shadows... Ahh... The fire ahead is perhaps just as inviting as the full moon sending its shafts of pearlescent light through the thickening canopy. You march on, a bit of a playful whistle sounding from between your lips.

Eventually, you arrive, the bright, crackling fire already sending its red-orange glimmers across the narrow clearing. The ground is even; the trees are sparse, allowing a natural chimney for the smoke to funnel up against the starlit sky. Ak'horra chose the spot well. To your searching eyes it seems the fire was mostly built from thick, heavy, hand-broken branches, and only a moment's thought is taken to remind yourself that she wouldn't have need of an axe or hatchet. You imagine her-

Oh? The sudden, unexpected smell of roasting meat is... beyond enticing. Your mouth waters; your stomach groans, forcing to remember your last meager meal. What were you thinking a moment ago? Then your eyes adjust to the fire-light and you fully remember. The darkly-glowing, outstretched form of your curvaceous orc compatriot is a different kind of tantalizing altogether. She acknowledges your arrival - or your attention - with a familiar smirk.

Ak'horra is still [barely] clad as before, the valleys of her breasts and thighs flickering within the dancing light of the fire she built. Reclining on an old, heavy fur cloak of her own design, she greets you smolderingly with her eyes. The hide upon which she lies is all thick, striped fur and bear-like in its size, but certainly it never belonged to any bear you've seen. Your hunter's instincts flare with questions, but your paladin instincts soothe the beast as you take in her languid, exotic form. In one of her green hands is a haunch of cooked meat - barely touched and still on the bone - and in the other is a nearly-identical morsel, held outstretched to you in offering. Gods, you are hungry...

You thank her with a sigh purposed to hide your rising lust, deftly dropping your gear in an out-of-the-way but reachable spot. As you approach to take the meat, the orc shuffles and pulls her legs beneath herself, making room for you to sit beside her on the outstretched furs. Some invitations you should never refuse. As you clasp the offered meat, you are somewhat relieved to notice the stretched hide of a freshly-slain deer drawn tightly between two of the nearby trees. Behind the orc-warrior is a newly [but crudely] fashioned spear of local wood and bone. The twin, sharp arcs of its "blade" seem about the right shape and size to have once been part of a goblin's ribcage, but you don't ponder the logistics overlong.

Now freed from its offering of food, her hand finds your leather-clad thigh and squeezes intently. You mirror the action with your own free hand upon her own nearest thigh, and bite eagerly into the expertly-cooked venison. Ahh, it is delicious. Almost mesmerized by the taste - the texture, the tenderness - you watch the crackling white-gold core of the emblazoned wood as you eat. So does she. For a long, thirsting while you merely sit together on her outstretched bed of fur, her shoulder slowly drifting towards you own as your familiarity grows. Your hot skins finally touch, and you both watch the smoke curl up towards His full, resplendent moon. Well, you do, at least.

The snap of a twig behind you sets your nerves on edge. Your muscles tense. Are they back? Your sword is two paces away-

The orc snorts dismissively as a low, bestial rumble sounds from the shadows of the forest behind you. You turn, your gaze piercing threateningly through the beams of moonlight and the thick shadows of the rustling leaves. At last you notice the gleam of cat-like eyes but a few long paces into the shadows. As your own eyes regain their acclimation to the darkness you can finally see the silhouette of a noble Smilodon as it cracks its jaws into a freshly broken deer bone. More pale, glistening bones are strewn haphazardly about its fearsome claws. Oh. You certainly don't begrudge the beast its appetite. Your sigh of realization brings you back to the moment with a genuinely glad chuckle.

"K'ron," you whisper, your relief a truly wondrous feeling even amongst the rest of this blissful, moonlit night.

Turning back, Ak'horra's amused smirk is enough to ground you immediately. Her lips are wet and glistening, her lower tusks glowing like amber in the firelight. She doesn't say anything, but the backs of her fingers playfully slap your hip in admonishment.

"S'ah, s'ah..." you finally chuckle. You eat. It's delicious. So is she. You watch her eat. She chews, swallows, and watches you in turn. When both of your bones are finally bereft, she tosses her remnants back into the hungry void within the shadows behind you. Well, you wonder, why not? You do the same with your own scraps. The pleased rumble of a powerful purr brings a smile to both of your lips.

Ak'horra gingerly reaches beside her and tentatively produces a lacquered gourd. With an inviting, challenging grin she pulls the stopper and holds it out to you. Almost instantly you smell the spirits within. Ah, you remember. The orc's drinking gourd, but you know not what's actually inside.

No. That's not entirely true. You recall that she did drink from it earlier, before the battle. At this point you've no fear of her poisoning you, surely. Would there be any harm?