Popcorn

Emily felt as though her heart stopped, and instinctively drew herself into a seated position, covering her naked body with her arms. The man seemed to be asleep. Oddly quiet though, she wasn’t sure he was even breathing. Was she in this tent with a dead body? Every part of her wanted to run before he opened his eyes, but she knew she couldn’t just leave him here if he wasn’t breathing. Holding her own breath she reached out and held a hand in front of his nose. Nothing.

She shuffled onto her hands and knees, and using one hand to hold her hair back she turned her face to the side, with her ear just next to his mouth. She imagined briefly what would happen if he did happen to wake up right now to find her naked, leaning over him. The idea filled her with horror, but also **** her to stifle a little giggle. What was wrong with her?

Still no sound of breathing. She started to panic a little. Just as she was about to withdraw his mouth opened with a guttural sound, and he breathed in sharply. She darted back to the other sleeping bag just as sharply as he let out a very loud snoring noise. At least he was alive. And at least he was asleep. She should leave now.

She started to gather up her collection of loot when the man farted loudly inside the sleeping bag. Again, she had to stifle a giggle, imagining the bag swelling up as the sound went on for what seemed like minutes, ending with a little high-pitched squeak. She suddenly remembered the smell of popcorn, and grimaced, gripping the breastplate with her new belongings to her chest and looked out into the fresh air. Still there was nobody in sight so she grabbed the boots she had seen earlier and streaked back to the trees.

She felt bad for stealing the man’s stuff as she drew the t-shirt over her head. It came down to her knees, and the arms of the shirt reached almost to her wrists. She pulled the socks up to her knees, then for some reason felt silly, and pushed them back down to her ankles. The boots were too big for her, but would stay in place once the laces were pulled tight. She wrapped the black tape around her torso to hold the breastplate in place and pushed her hand through the cardboard inner in case she needed it again, forming a large, ugly bracelet. Then she remembered that she had left her water bottle in the tent. Never mind.

Feeling much more ready for whatever would come next, she marched through the light woodland toward the noise she had heard earlier. It was already much louder, sounding as though there were thousands of people there now.

Climbing a small rise Emily came to a clearing, and saw that it was indeed thousands of people. To her left were the armies of the Holy Order, all dressed in light colours and with occasional glints of shining armour, arranged in lines in front of a large square castle. Across the field, to her right, Alexa looked over the Saviours, all dressed in black, not arranged at all like an army – this was a horde, and in contrast to the still lines of the Holy Order this looked like an organic mass, moving and pulsing.

This was going to be a hell of a battle, thought Alexa. And I need to get right into the middle of it.