Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Solitary Arrow by Mack the Knife

   Part Two

   The smaller orc muttered then scurried off and began gathering up the
fallen equipment.  The larger orc carried the two some distance back up the
scree then through another ravine.  He finally came to a cleft in the stone
walls of a short sheer-sided cliff.  With a mighty heave, he used his
shoulder to shove back a stone that blocked the majority of a concealed
entrance, revealing a short passage that led to a small cave.  He dragged
the two in behind him and dropped them negligently to the floor.  He liked
his secret cave, few other orcs knew about it, and most of them were now
dead.  He was going have fun with this elf girl for a long time before he
killed her.

   A few moments later, Snatbug came in with the booty from their adventure
and looked at the girl, his red eyes gleamed with lust.  "We going to have
a go at her, then?" He asked.

   "Well, I'm going to fuck her, then when I'm done, if I decide to take a
break, you might grab a bit of her ass." The big orc said, taking a swat at
his smaller cousin.  "Right now, I'm going to go report to the captain that
they tried to ambush us and killed the other boys, then ran away." He said.
"You go outside and watch out over the fight spot."

   Both the orcs left the cave, then there was a grinding sound as the
stone was pushed back into place.

   A few minutes later, Hyandai's eyes fluttered open.  Her head felt like
a drum.  Pain pulsed with each beat of her heart, causing her to wince. 
The stench that struck her nose was horrid.  She looked around and saw
Harlen.  He was barely breathing, and blood was bubbling from his lips.  He
would die soon, she thought.  She squirmed in her bonds and managed to get
her head pointed toward him and rolled onto her belly.  She inched her way,
painfully, across the floor.

   When she finally reached his head, she leaned over his face and pressed
her lips to his.  She breathed into him, forcing his lungs to expand.  She
could hear the sickening sound of his ribs sliding over each other inside
his chest but she pushed on.  Another deep breath and she blew again,
expanding his lungs farther this time.  After a handful more breaths and
she could no longer hear ribs moving.  Her healing breath was repairing the
damage as it inflated the punctured lungs, and moving the broken ribs back
into place.  She exhaled into him a half dozen more times, unsure how badly
hurt his insides were, and wanting to be as sure as she could.  He seemed
to be breathing normally now.

   "Harlen, awaken." She said into his ear.  He murmured something but did
not wake up, he was still groggy from the shock.  She bit his ear sharply,
he yelled something incoherent and awakened.  His eyes popped open as he
tried to sit up.  But, his hands were bound behind his back, and he fell
again.

   "Where are we?" He asked, his face panic-stricken

   She looked around.  "Some cave the orcs have thrown us in.  I think they
will not be gone long." She twisted her wrists.  "I can not unbind my
hands." She said, her voice took on a sorrowful note.  "I will be raped
when they return."

   Harlen nodded, grunting as he struggled with his bonds.  "I wish I could
help." He said, then he fell down again.  "I'll keep trying to get loose."

   She shook her head.  "We need them to think you near death." She said.
"If you can free yourself while they are otherwise occupied with me, you
may be able to surprise them."

   "I can't accept that, Hyandai." Harlen said, still straining at the
bonds that securely kept his wrists locked together.  "I wish there were
some way for me to help you." He grunted through his teeth, pulling on the
cloth knots.

   "There is not." She said.  Then her eyes flashed.  "I know of only one
thing." She looked at him.  "Would you risk your sanity for me?  You did
say you would risk your life, but your sanity may be a dearer thing."

   Harlen nodded.  "Of course I would." He smiled lopsidedly.  "My sanity
is in oft called into doubt, regardless."

   She giggled a little at that.  "Then look into my eyes, time is short."
She could hear the big orc returning, yelling at his subordinate.

   Harlen stared into her golden eyes, which was something he liked to do
anyway, actually.  Hyandai returned the stare, gazing into his fathomless
blue eyes.  With a last sigh, she let herself fall into them.  Harlen's
head slammed back, as if he had been struck across the bridge of his nose.
He could feel his mind shift in his skull, and felt as part of himself was
shoved aside, and then something filled the newly vacated space.  `I am
with you now.' Hyandai said, and her lips did not move, for her voice was
inside his own head.  He faintly heard an echo in the elven tongue.  `Most
of me is here, anyway.' She amended.  `I have need to speak.  Just relax
and let me use your voice.'

   He tried to do as she said, and then heard himself speaking elven.  Her
body responded by saying something back in a happy sing-song voice. 
Hyandai then looked at him.  "You seem a nice man, and speak good elven."
She said.  "When the orcs are finished making a woman of me, you will lie
with me also?"

   Harlen, still confused, said "Gladly, beautiful maiden." The body that
was Hyandai giggled, then lay there with a look of pleased expectation on
her face.

   `What did you tell her?' He thought.

   She replied.  `I told her the nice orcs were coming to deflower her and
to not be scared, it is the normal way, so she now thinks.' There was a
pause in the mind-speech.  `She is like a child, Harlen.  Only a small
portion of me is still lies within her mind.  Now, grab your pack and lie
still.'

   He did as she said again, the stone was being forced aside.  Two orcish
voices could be heard as they crawled back into the cave.  "Okay, you can
have a poke at her when I've finished, right?"

   Sullenly, the smaller one replied.  "Like it'll be any fun after you've
taken your club to her.  But, a beggar must take what he can get, eh?"

   Gorepole laughed at that.  "Then bugger her in the ass, like I says. 
I'll leave it for you, you're a good mate." The big orc came over to the
two people.  "This one's gonna live, maybe." He said.  "We'll have fun with
him later, though."

   He grabbed up Hyandai roughly by her shoulders and looked at her.

   She smiled insipidly and said "Are you the one who is going to make a
woman of me?" As he began to carry her to the crudely-built table in the
center of the room.

   Rather startled the orc said.  "You sound like you're looking forward to
it, then?" He regarded her with those red eyes.  "Your human friend or that
dead elf boy out there not fill you up good?"

   "Indeed, I am." She said, smiling innocently and happily.

   Gorepole shrugged.  "Good, because that's what's about to happen to
you." He tore her top off with one hand, lifting her off the table until he
pushed down with his other hand, it tore asunder, revealing her small,
perfectly-shaped breasts.  Gorepole grunted in pleasure at their sight.  He
slid his hand over the smooth skin, then leaned forward and suckled one,
drawing blood with his sharp teeth.  "Your blood tastes good, I'm going to
drink a lot of it before you die." He said, and then sucked the other
breast into his mouth, piercing it with his fangs as well.  He then stepped
back, standing upright again.

   Hyandai's body gasped then said.  "You are hurting me, be gentler,
please."

   The big orc laughed.  "I'll be gentler, all right." He reached down and
ripped her skirt off like he had her halter.  The loincloth came with it,
revealing her private places.  He looked down at her hairless womanhood. 
"Damn, you elves are smooth down there." He said, running his fingers over
her pubic mound and spreading her labia with one.  Then he forced one of
the thick and clawed fingers into her.

   Hyandai's body screamed, and then yelled.  "Not so rough!" The orc
pulled the finger from her tiny slit, and licked the blood and juices off
of it.  "You're an unopened bitch, then, eh?  Not for long, says I." He
mused.

   Grabbing some rope he slit her bonds and tied her down to the four
corners of the table.  Her arms were bent painfully over her head and
pulled to the legs at the two corners over her head.  Her knees were bent
where they overhung the smallish table and her ankles tied securely halfway
down the table's legs.  He then threw her clothes into the fire burning in
the far corner.  "You won't be needing clothes ever again." He said,
chuckling.  "Make, me happy, little elf cunt, and I'll let you live another
day.  Piss me off, and I'll cut out your little sweet tongue, and eat it
right here, then gut you while I ram my cock up your little hole." He said,
pulling a knife from his boot.

   Hyandai's face looked confused then said.  "I will try to pleasure you."
She still looked expectant, but most of the pleased expression was gone.

   The two orcs only had eyes for Hyandai right now, not that he blamed
them terribly.

   `I will take that as a compliment, such as it is.' She said in his head.
She sounded sad, but resigned, and was just biding the time while Harlen
got his wrists free.

   He had managed to grab his pack and was digging through it behind his
back.

   The big orc clambered onto the table, and its timbers creaked under his
bulk.  He unfastened his belt and dropped his codpiece.  His organ was
enormous.  It was as thick and long as Hyandai's upper arm, and covered in
large bumps.  These formed a ridge along the upper surface.  Gorepole
stepped up placing each foot on either side of her narrow waist.  He looked
down at the pretty elf maiden, and she looked up, her golden eyes locked on
the creature's huge rod, and looked fearful.  He squatted down and rested
his rod on her chest, between her flawless, but wounded breasts, the
bulbous head was only an inch or so from her small mouth.  "Wet it with
your mouth, and maybe it won't hurt so much when I stick it in your little
cockslit.  Suck me off good, and maybe I will try to go easy on your little
hole down there." He said, leering down at the pretty face.

   She grimaced at the general smell and the thin, watery gray stuff oozing
from the tip.  Hyandai lifted her head and opened her mouth wide.  She took
the head into her, stretching her lips around the massive girth.  Her
cheeks caved in and began sucking on it.  His vile liquid was filling her
mouth, and she had to swallow it.  It tasted rancid, like old milk mixed
with stale water.  She tried to pull back, and found that Gorepole had put
a hand behind her head.  He thrust himself deeper into her instead.  She
gagged on the thick pole, but couldn't pull back and started to choke. 
Inch after inch went into her mouth until she gave out a startled and
muffled squeal.  Then her cheeks puffed out, followed by motions of her
neck swallowing something.  Thick gray globs of orcish semen flowed out
both her slender nostrils, then around her mouth when the pressure was too
great to keep it in.  Tears were rolling down her smooth cheeks.

   Finally, he pulled the organ free of her mouth, and a small flood of the
stuff oozed out.  She gasped for air, coughing, his vile come filling her
nose and most of her mouth.

   Gorepole laughed at her, and dipped a clawed finger into the orc-spend.
He shoved the digit into her mouth and wiped it on her tongue.  "You eat my
juice good, bitch." He said, nodding.  "You made me go off quick, you're a
good cock sucker." He then moved down a step and squatted again.  "Now I
can fuck you longer in your little cunthole." He said, placed the oozing
head of his organ at the entrance to her vagina.  He reached up and grabbed
her shoulders with his claw-like hands.  He looked down at her tiny slit
and his huge cock poised to open it.  "This is going to hurt some, I hope."
He said, patting her shoulder.  He grunted as he buried all eleven inches
of cock into her.  There was no preamble, there was no slipping.  One
moment it was outside of her, the head opening the tender folds of her
outer labia, the next he was grinding his pelvis against hers.

   Hyandai screamed and began to thrash and pull against the stout rope
that held her.  The Hyandai in Harlen's head screamed too.  `Spirits be
damned, he is killing me!'

   Harlen found what he had been seeking, his small skinning knife.  He got
it out of it's small protective leather sheath.  Gorepole rammed himself
into her repeatedly, the girl stopped screaming, and simply made small
grunting sounds, like he was pushing the air from her with each thrust. 
Movement could be seen under her taut belly, his ridged cock moving deep
into her.  Her limbs had gone slack and her face totally vacant.  Gray
semen spilled from her slack jaw and was dripping through the slats of the
table and onto the floor.  Her body gave an involuntary twitch and it
arched its back, and she screamed again.  He moved his clawed hands down to
her breasts, and sank his talons into her pliant flesh, blood started
flowing down her chest and off of her in small rivulets.  Harlen's knife
was slowly cutting through the thick cloth tying his wrists.  His range of
motion was extremely limited, and he did not have much strength to cut with
as he was holding the knife at a very unfavorable angle.

   The orc tossed back his head and howled like a wolf, growling at the
ceiling, and showering Hyandai in a downpour of spit and bile.

   The cloth binding his wrists finally separated, and his hands were free.
Harlen inched his hand toward Hyandai's bow, and the arrows scattered on
the floor near it.

   As the orc stood up, pulling its limp and bloody pole from Hyandai's
tiny body with a slurping sound that disgusted Harlen.  Gorepole looked
toward Snatbug.  "That elf pussy is good stuff, grabbed my fuckstick like a
silk fist." He said, swinging his flaccid organ in the air.

   "Nar, you freak." Said Snatbug.  "You'd make a horse feel like a tight
new cunt." Then he laughed.  He stopped laughing when he saw Harlan stand
behind Gorepole, with the elven bow in his hands.

   Hyandai wrested control of his hands from him, saying in his mind, `This
one is mine, it is my right.' Harlan let his will fall from his hands.  The
bow hummed in his hand as he muttered something in elven under his breath.
The arrow began to glow, silver shimmers pulsing down its shaft.  Snatbag
said "Boss, the man is awake!"

   The big orc started to turn, chuckling.  "Nar, he can't be stan..." The
arrow caught the orc in the skull, just below his tiny, malformed ear, his
head snapped to the side with a sickening crack, and the orc was flipped
from the table and spun to the floor.  He was dead before he hit the rough
stone.

   The smaller creature, his eyes growing round with fear, ran for the cave
mouth.  His wretched legs only carried him two steps before Hyandai, nimbly
using Harlen's fingers, had reloaded the bow and was firing again.  Snatbug
was hit right in the middle of his scrawny back, the arrow hit so hard,
that it slammed him into the stone wall.  The arrow must have gone clean
through him, as he did not fall, but hung there, like a grisly
wall-hanging. His breath squeaked out as if from a bellows with a large
rent in the cloth folds.

   Harlen stepped forward to the table, and Hyandai was looking up at him
with beautiful, golden, but ultimately blank eyes.  "He hurt me." She said,
the tears on her face mixing with the vile and malodorous semen of the orc.
Her breath reeked of the same horrid stench.  "It was supposed to be fun."
Her expression was one of petulant betrayal.  "I am hurting too much for
you now, I am sorry." Harlen looked down and saw her womanhood, still
gaping open from the rough use it had just received.  Thick globs of orc
spend plopped onto the table as it slid out of her along with quite a bit
of blood.  The table between her legs was likewise coated with the foul
stuff, and it drained between the slats, dripping onto the floor.  Harlen
had tears on his cheeks for even the fragment of Hyandai that had just been
harmed so privately and totally.

   "I know.  Perhaps when you are better, then." He said, quietly, patting
her shoulder.  Harlen cut the ropes on her ankles and wrists, and helped
her to sit up.  As she did, a huge mass of the orc's semen slid out of her,
with an audible slurping sound, and Hyandai groaned as she watched it. 
"That stuff tastes bad." She said, running her fingers through the foul
spend.

   He took his blanket out of his pack and draped it about her shoulders.
"Here, to warm you."

   "You are kinder than the orcs." She said.  "You can have me when I am
well.  I liked you when we first met, and you don't stink." She looked down
at the orc spend and blood on the table.  "I am bleeding from my opening.'"
She said.  "More than during my time.'" She looked hurt.  "I think that bad
orc hurt me inside when he was deflowering me."

   Harlen's heart tightened at those words, spoken so plainly and
innocently.  "I will help you get better." He said to her, stroking her
hair, ignoring the gray semen that lay in her tresses in clumps and blobs.

   Suddenly, a bolt of pain lanced through his skull, nearly causing him to
fall.  `Your mind is beginning to fail, it will not hold us both within
much longer.' Hyandai said in his head.  `I must return to my own mind now,
loathe as I am to do so.'

   Harlen looked down, and there was fresh blood dripping from his nose. 
Another lance of pain shot through him.  `You must make eye contact with
her.' She said, urgently.

   Harlen grabbed Hyandai's head and forced her to look at him.  "Look at
me, darling Hyandai." He said.  She did, and Harlen felt a huge part of
himself falling into those empty, golden eyes, trying to fill them.  For a
brief moment, he saw himself, stained with blood from his mouth and nose.
He was seeing through her eyes!  Then his view snapped back to his own
eyes.

   Hyandai closed her lids for a moment, and there was one final great
spasm of pain through his skull.  Blood spewed from his nose making him
cough, then the pain left.  He felt a bit unsteady and sat on the table. 
Hyandai's eyes opened again, and she screamed.  It was the banshee wail of
one who wants to die.  Harlen fought through the descending haze and
reached to her.  When her eyes focused on him, she clung to him, cutting
his arms slightly with her fingernails as she clutched her way up him to
curl up on his lap and between his arms.  Her face was twisted with torment
as she wailed into his chest, and her body heaved great sobs as the tears
flowed from her eyes.

   He continued stroking her hair, and murmuring to her that things would
be okay now, that they were safe now.  Her condition belied the very
concept of safe, and her mind was anything but okay.  Her mind spun with
the images and sensations that the small portion of her had absorbed.  She
was being spared the worst of it but it still shattered her.  Her insides
were ravaged, and her body abused.  Her stomach churned with the seed of
the orc, spewed down her throat in great ribbons and filling her womb in a
massive explosion.  Her mind rebelled against all this, it could not happen
in a decent world, she told herself.

   Harlen started singing as he began to rock her in his arms.  His voice
was not precisely on key, and the rhythm was a bit off, but she recognized
the song.

   Avaenelle, cormin sakkatuva perya.  - Avaenelle, eleeramin eleuva
ilme'a. - Avaenelle, gorgaramin keluva ilyamenie.  - Avaenelle, niireamin
quantuva dome.

   He rocked her in time with his singing of the classic song.  It was an
old love song, and she had enjoyed hearing it as a child.  Her sobs
lessened as she listened to him singing it, realizing that he was no elf,
and he was singing an elven song, and singing it reasonably well.

   She sniffed again and asked.  "Where did you learn that song, Harlen?"
Her eyes were large with wonder, if reddened by tears.

   He finished out the verse and said.  "My grand mother used to sing it to
me as a child when I would get hurt." He smiled sweetly.  "I heard it a
lot, as I was a extraordinarily clumsy child." He said.

   She could not but giggle at that, and graced him with a small, but
heartfelt smile.  "Please sing it for me still." She said, laying her head
on his chest as he held her, and stroked her, and sang to her.  After a few
more verses he stopped and asked.  "What does it mean in my language?" He
said.  "My grand mother never knew, she had heard an elven minstrel sing it
in her youth and memorized it without knowing the meaning.

   Hyandai looked at him a moment, then sat up a little.  She tilted her
head back slightly and started to sing the words.

   Without you, my heart would tear asunder - Without you, my eyes would
see no light - Without you, my fears would always linger - Without you, my
tears would fill the night

   As she sang, her voice filled the chamber as if it were made to carry
her notes.  Her voice was perfect in pitch and timber, it belied the worn
and used look she wore, and the horrid smell coming off of her from the
orc's juices.  The tears that fell from her eyes were fewer now, and seemed
purer.  She sang the verse again, then stopped.  "It is actually a song of
your people, from many, many years ago." She said.  "We elves liked it and
translated it, but it belongs in your tongue."

   Harlen shrugged.  "My people have forgotten it, so I would say it is
yours now." He looked at her intently.  "Think you that you can you walk,
m'lady?"

   She nodded.  "I can walk for a little ways, but I am hurt deeply,
Harlen." He gathered up their weapons, but instead of his hatchet, he
picked up a finely wrought broadsword, of the sort used by soldiers, and
thrown negligently in a corner of the cave.  Hyandai waited, standing by
the table, and clutching the blanket around her.  Her face was haunted
looking and sad.

   "I know of another cave, near to here, that no orc has ever found." He
said, picking up his items that had spilled from his pack while he had
searched it.  "We should not tarry longer here, others may come."

   Hyandai nodded, and took possession of her bow and quiver by extending
one hand out of the cocoon of a blanket she wore.  They crept from the cave
and stole down the hills toward the woods a ways, then he started north. 
Her stomach cramped painfully, and blood was coating her thighs.  "It needs
be close, Harlen, I cannot go much farther." She said, taking his offered
arm to support her.

   He nodded and pointed to their right.  "It is near.  Come, Rapier, we
will get to safety soon." They went up what looked like a blind ravine and
climbed some shallow skree.  She almost could not make it, but finally they
slipped into a narrow cleft between two stones.  It went about five feet,
narrow and confining, with barely enough room to move, then it turned
sharply and disgorged them into a small cave.  Harlen slipped the light
stone out of his pocket and held it up.  The cave was only perhaps ten
paces deep and five wide.  "Everything we need, Hyandai.  For a while at
least." Unlike the filthy cave of the orcs, this cave was meticulously
clean.  The end of the chamber had a tiny rivulet running through it, it
disgorged into a little pond, only about three feet across, then ran off
into the stone wall.  "I carved out the pond, for bathing." He said.

   "You are certain it is safe?" Hyandai asked, leaning back against the
rough wall, and sliding down it a bit.

   "Very." Harlen said.  "The other man who knew of it was a huntsman
friend of mine, and he is dead."

   She said.  "I'm sorry for your loss." And slipped farther down the wall.

   Harlen still was speaking over his shoulder.  "Don't be, It was my hand
that ended his life." He turned at last and gasped when he saw her
condition.  He rushed to her side.  "Hyandai." He said.

   Her hands closed on his arm.  "You said bath?" She muttered.  "Put me in
it a while." He picked her up gently and carried her to the bath.  The
rancid smell of the orc spend in her hair made him noxious.  It was now
turning black as it dried in her hair, and on her smooth cheeks.  He sat
her on the edge of the pool and took the blanket from her shoulders.  She
slipped into the water, settling into the little pool up to her neck. 
"Please, speak to me, keep me company.  I feel very faint." She said. 
Looking at him with her golden eyes very tired and world worn.

   He sat beside the pool and thought a moment.  "I don't know quite what
to talk about." Harlen admitted.  He held out a small piece of lye soap to
her.

   She sniffed it dubiously.  "Yeek.  It will burn my flesh off my bones."
She said.  Then added.  "I suppose this situation calls for nothing less,
though." She started washing herself with the soap, wincing as she went
over a bruise or open sore.  She seemed less worn already, the water was
supporting her weight, and she could relax more.

   "How did you jump into my mind?" Harlen asked her, trying to think of
something to say.

   She rinsed one of her arms off, and looked at him, her eyes were looking
more animated.  "I wanted to be in your head more than my own right then."
She smiled.  "It is something that elves can do, at least some among us can
do it."

   Harlen looked at her a moment.  "You could read my mind?" He asked,
slightly alarmed.

   She giggled at that, and the music in her laugh was beginning to return.
"No, Harlen, only what you actively thought at a given moment." She
answered.  "And, I would say, you were a perfect gentleman."

   He looked down.  "I was only worried for you." His eyes were brimming
with tears.  "You didn't deserve that." He looked down into the water, and
saw his own face.  "Gads!  I'm a terrible fright." He exclaimed, rubbing
his hand on the clotted and dried blood on his face and neck.

   Hyandai nodded to him.  "We both are, I think, Harlen." She smiled
sweetly.  "Were there room in this bath, I would ask you in." She said,
then murmured.  "And were I foresighted, I would have done the same this
morning."

   Harlen blinked.  "What do you mean?" He asked.

   "Nothing, sorry." She said.  "Just a stray thought about what could have
been." She was looking much better now.  She asked Harlen.  "May I ask you
for help with my hair?" She said, handing him the block of lye soap.  She
turned her back to him and leaned back into the water, half her hair just
above the surface, the other half submerged.  He splashed water onto it and
then rubbed the soap into the locks, he scrubbed her head, being careful
not to get the caustic lye near her eyes.  Then he used a small cup to
ladle water into her hair until he had all the soap out.  Her hair was
incredibly soft and fine, and he longed to keep touching it.  However, she
was obviously uncomfortable in this pose and he finished as quickly as he
could.  The water was cloudy with the lye and bits of soap, but the
constant inflow of fresh water was slowly clearing it.  After about fifteen
minutes she said.  "I believe I am as clean as I can get right now,
Harlen." She looked up to him.  "Will you help me out now, please?" She
said, holding up her hands to him and standing.  She was visible from the
waist up, her perfect breasts marred by small wounds that still bled a
little.  A long claw-mark drew a red welt down her stomach.  He closed his
eyes and lifted her out, turned to the right and let her down.  She gasped
at his strength to lift her free like that.  "You are very strong, Harlen."
She said.  She looked about.  "Have you something clean I can wear, or at
least not orc-stained?" She asked.

   He turned from her and opened his eyes.  He then went over to a small
chest and opened it.  Out of it he produced a long shirt.  "The best I
have." He said, holding it over his shoulder.  He heard her wet footsteps
behind him, and felt the shirt taken from his fingers.

   "Have you any rags or small pieces of cloth?" She said very timidly.  "I
need something to keep me from bleeding."

   He pulled out another blanket, and used his little skinning knife to cut
a small square from it.  He handed this back to her also.  She finally
said. "You can turn around now, Harlen, I am decent." He turned.

   She was standing in his massively oversized shirt.  His heart swelled at
the image it presented to him, of some possible domestic scene.  The tunic
hanged almost to her shapely knees.  He took a length of rope and cut it
and said "A belt." She took it and knotted it about her slim waist.

   She finally looked about the chamber.  "Very homey." She said.  The room
had a small cot, some shelves, covered with small items, and two chests. 
There was also a small breadbox on the shelf, and a large wooden frame
against the wall.  Several clay pots lay just inside the entrance.  And, of
course, the rivulet of spring water and the pool.

   Harlen nodded.  "More like homely." He chuckled.  "But its somewhat
clean and reasonably safe, anyway." He looked about.  "Please lie down,
Hyandai.  I know you are careworn." He said, pointing to the bed.  He left
off that he could go bath out of sight if she did, the pool was somewhat in
an alcove from where the bed lay.

   She laid down.  "I probably should try to rest." He said, and laid on
the blanket.  It smelled of Harlen, and that was agreeable enough to her.
She lifted the covers from under herself and nestled into them.  "I do not
recall any finer bed, Harlen." She said.

   Harlen smiled at her and went over to the pool.  He hugged the inner
wall, out of sight and stripped off his clothes.  Then he climbed down into
the water.  He was remarkably sore.  He supposed that Hyandai had not been
able to heal every minor hurt he had suffered in the pummeling from the
huge orc.  The caked blood was washed from his face and neck.  Then he
washed out the rawhide jerkin he had worn.  "Harlen, do you have any food
here?" She asked from around the corner.  "Not that I can eat right now,
but for later?"

   "Yes." He said.  "I've some provisions in the breadbox." He washed his
hair in a series of dunks and then went ahead and scrubbed his body. 
Finally he got out and put his trousers back on, they stuck to his body, as
he had not dried off.  He clasped the belt and walked to the second chest,
where he had gotten the shirt and blanket.  He opened it and retrieved
another shirt, this one a blue shirt of rough weave.

   She watched him move about, and enjoyed seeing him shirtless, with his
corded muscles and well-formed shoulders.  When he turned his back to her
and looked in the chest.  She gasped.  His back was a web of scars.  Harlen
had been flogged in his past.  The long scars were red and angry-looking.
They made his back look as if it were somehow aflame.  He put the shirt on
and turned back around.  "I am so sorry, Hyandai," He said finally, "that I
couldn't get myself unbound sooner."

   Hyandai smiled at him.  "I know it, remember, I was in your head, also."
She snuggled into the blankets more.  "I am happy enough to be alive right
now." She said quietly, looking at the natural stones of the ceiling.

   Harlen nodded.  "Yes, that is better than I would have thought as that
brute put me down." He sat on the floor, and took the blanket from his pack
and washed it, cleaning out the orc spend and blood that had gotten onto
it. Hyandai could see him as he washed, in profile.  His face wore the look
of disgust.

   She wondered briefly if he felt the same way about her now, used and
orc-spent.

   Harlen finished with that task and took the blanket and shirt and hung
them on hooks set into the rough wall.

   When he turned, he saw tears falling from her beautiful eyes and down
her flawless cheeks.  "Hyandai?" He said coming over to her.

   "No, Harlen." She said.  "Let me be, for a moment only." She said,
curling onto her side and facing toward the wall.  "I need to think." She
murmured.

   He stepped back as if stung.  "I understand." He said, though he did not
really.  He went over to one of the chests and sat upon it.  He opened the
companion chest and took out a piece of doeskin.  He unfolded his rolled up
kit and took out needle and thread.  Using only a small knife and that
thread and needle, he started to sew.

   She wept for longer than a moment, she wept for a greater part of two
hours.  Harlen patiently sewed on the leather, occasionally staring at
Hyandei's back for a few moments then sewing some more.  He took out more
thread at need, and more of the supple leather.  Harlen noticed the weeping
had ceased and that she seemed to be asleep, he heard nothing from her, and
her shoulder rose and fell rhythmically.  He continued to sew well into the
night outside.  Simply watching over her and minding his handiwork.

   At what he thought to be about midnight, she stirred.  "Harlen?" She
asked as she rolled over to face him.

   "I am here, m'lady." He said, putting down his project and standing.

   She smiled at him.  "I hate to ask it of you, but I need another clean
cloth." She said.  He went and cut one from the blanket he had sliced
before.  He stopped, and cut another.  The second one he took to the water
and soaked it, then wrung it out.  He handed both to Hyandai, then turned
about, and walked to the far side of the cave.  A few moments later she
said.  "Thank you, I am presentable again." She held out a folded rag that
was very soaked with blood, but not quite through and through.  He took it
and went to the pool.  He rinsed it clean then set it aside to dry.  She
was really enthralled with his thoroughness.  "Harlen, you are one of the
most detail minding men I have ever met." She said.

   Harlen looked over at her.  "What do you mean?" He asked.  He stood and
walked to the cot, and slid one of the chests beside it.  He sat upon the
chest and faced her.

   "You finish all your projects before you move on.  It is very nice to
watch, you always do what needs doing next." She flashed her golden orbs at
him.

   Harlen shrugged.  "My grand mother again, I think." He explained.  "She
always made me to finish anything I started, regardless of how badly I
wanted to stop." The huntsman chuckled.  "I suppose it helped me to choose
my projects more wisely."

   She giggled at that, her eyes flickering with life again.  Harlen
decided to try to make her laugh as often as he could, as it was lightening
to his heart to hear her laughing.

   "Are you hungry?" He asked.

   Hyandai clutched her stomach.  "A little." She said.  "But I do not
think I can keep food down until my stomach has gotten rid of the bile it
has within." Her mind flashed to the huge orc filling her gullet and she
almost retched again.  "A while longer, I think."

   Harlen nodded without comment.

   Hyandai sat up part way, lifting herself up and propping her back
against the wall.  "Do you not need sleep, Harlen?" She asked.  "It must be
late."

   "I was thinking of lying down, yes." He said.

   She scooted over on the cot.  "Then lie, Harlen." She said, patting the
bed beside her.  "Do not worry, I have been rendered incapable of ravishing
you." She grinned sourly.

   He wore the look of someone about to try to talk his way out of
something.  "No, Harlen, you will take this spot, please." She said. 
"After what I have been through today.  I seek your comfort." Her eyes grew
very imploring.  "Do not make me beg." Her voice was very quiet now.  "For
I will."

   Harlen shook his head.  "No, m'lady, do not.  I will comfort you, if
that is what you would have me do." He smiled and sat beside her.  "I don't
consider this to be a particularly odious task, you know." He laid down,
and she slid back into the covers.  She turned to her side to face him, and
he to face her.  "I forgot the stone." He said.  He slipped from beneath
the covers and went to the light stone.  Sliding it back into it's pouch,
he returned to the bed.

   As he laid down, Hyandai snuggled up to him.  He slipped an arm under
her head and she caressed it with one hand.  Her other hand lay on his
stomach.  He held her that way for many minutes before he heard her
breathing turn even and shallow.  He then let himself drift off to sleep.

   He awoke slowly, with Hyandai once again in his arms and pressed to her
back.  She awoke with him as she felt him move.  "Good morrow." She said,
pushing back into him a bit.  "Thank your for your arms in the dark."

   Harlan said.  "Thank you for your company." He said, liking the feel of
her against him.  The cinnamon odor was gone from her.  He was a little
saddened by this.  "I hope you find more of that perfume." He said.  "It
was wonderful."

   She turned, though he could not see it.  "Perfume?" She asked.  "I wore
no scents, I have not for days." She said.  "It is not our way to go into
the wilds scented to attract animals."

   Harlen sat silent for a moment.  "Then that sweet scent was yours?" He
said, smiling.

   He felt her nod in the dark.  "Yes.  I suppose it was, if you smelled
one." She said, almost giggling.

   "Well, then, I am blessed." He said and reached his free arm for the
light stone.

   Her small hand caught his arm.  "No, a while longer, please." She said,
and pulled his arm back over her.  He held her for a bit, and felt her
snuggle into him again.  He pressed forward slightly and she held her
position.  They were very close now, and He could smell the lye in her hair
faintly.  Her hand petted his arm, tickling the hairs.  "Elven men have no
hair on their arms." She said.  "Or else but their heads." She added,
almost setting herself to giggling again.

   "No?" Harlen asked.

   She did giggle now.  "Not a single strand." She said.  "Nor do we women,
of course." He lifted his arm and stroked her arm, and there was not touch
of hairs, fine or otherwise.  She leaned back, placing her mouth to his ear
and whispered.  "Anywhere."

   His eyes opened widely at that word.  "Um.  Interesting." He said, with
a little quaver in his voice.  She smiled to herself as he reacted to her
words, and felt his manhood stir.  It was just pressed to her rear, but it
felt good, nonetheless, to know she could arouse him so with just a few
words.  "I thought you just, well, shaved, as a man does his beard."

   She shook her head.  "No, I have never had any." She said.  "I hear it
is different with humans, many of you are quite furry, from what I have
been told."

   "Some more than others, but yes." He agreed.

   He was fully aroused now and she enjoyed the feeling of his erection
against her rump.  She may have been violated just yesterday, she thought,
but that does not make him or his presence feel unwelcome.  She dearly
wished that she had given in to her impulses that first morning, and let
him take her.  At least the orc would not have been the first into her
body, then.

   The muscular arm under her head felt good, also, and she turned a little
and kissed it gently.  It twitched with the contact.  Harlen felt the kiss
as a hot spark running up his arm and shooting to his brain, then down to
his loins.  He hoped she did not feel his manhood twitch in sympathy.

   She gave a tiny smile in the dark as she quite certainly did feel it. 
Finally, though he said "I must rise." Hyandai almost choked trying to hold
back the giggles that came to her.

   "I understand, Harlen." She said, lifting her head to let him slip his
arm out.  "You will understand if I do not get up just yet." The hunter
took his light stone from the pouch and the chamber filled with light.

   Harlen sat up and nodded.  "I do, and was going to suggest you rest
today, m'lady." He said.  Actually relieved to have his organ away from her
rear.  He had almost spent himself from her little movements alone and her
rather provocative words.  She turned over and watched him stretching.  His
organ stood out from his body as he leaned back and she heard his back give
out a few small snaps.  She admired him overall, and laid down before his
stretch ended.  He walked over to the breadbox and extracted a small loaf
of bread.  "Are you hungry now?" He asked.

   "Please, yes." She said, suddenly realizing she was famished.  Harlen
came back over, his erection now gone and handed her the small loaf.  "I
have butter and cheese, also."

   She took the little loaf in her hands.  "Cheese would be nice." She
answered.  As he brought her the cloth-wrapped small wheel of cheese she
giggled.  "My first breaking of fast abed." She said, using her fingers to
spread the softish cheese onto the bread.

   "Mind the crumbs, then." Harlen said smiling.  She devoured the bread in
a most unelvish fashion, he thought, but then again, she was probably very
hungry.  He fetched another loaf, and spread his own with cheese as well.
Holding it in his mouth he wrapped the cheese wheel, and took it back to
the little breadbox.  The food there would not last two people for long,
but hopefully, it would suffice long enough.  Hyandai was not fit to travel
yet, and probably would need another day before being able to walk the
distance to Morrovale.

   He ate his bread slowly, watching her fidget with her hands.  "My hands
are idle, Harlen." She said.  "Have you things here with which I may keep
them busy?"

   "I may." He said.  He went to the second chest, the one he had not
opened yet.  From within he extracted a very small wooden frame.  "I
usually use this for tanning small hides." He said.  He handed her a square
of the blanket he had been cutting up.  Then his little leather roll.  You
will find thread and such within." He looked at her.  "Do you know
needlepoint?" He asked.

   She nodded.  "As a girl I did." She looked at the items.  "Thank you."
She began to fiddle with the items and managed to stitch the cloth tight
onto the little frame, then began to use different bits of thread and lay
out a pattern.

   Harlen went over to the other chest and picked up where he had left off
on the sewing.  He would occasionally pilfer some thread from her and then
return.  More doeskin went into the project and even some cloth salvaged
from the already dwindling blanket.  She tried to see what he was making,
but could not, due to the angle, and the fact that he kept it folded except
where he was currently stitching.  Somehow, she felt asking would be
inappropriate.  The day passed with much silence.  The two of them simply
performing their individual crafts.  At the evening meal time, he stood,
and said.  "Done."

   She blinked from her project.  "Done?" She said.  "And what have you
done, Harlen?" She smiled, finally sensing she could ask about his little
project.

   He took up his bundle of soft doeskin and walked to the bed.  She set
her needlepoint aside and he sat beside her.  He unfolded a piece and laid
it over her chest.  It was an almost exact copy of the half-top she had
been wearing, made mostly of doeskin, with some lining of cloth.  He laid
the other piece over her hips and, again, it copied her old clothing,
almost precisely.  She looked with astonishment at it.  "That's amazing,
Harlen." She said.  Picking up the skirt.  "So soft." She stroked the
doeskin.  "I believe its softer than my old garments." Hyandai started to
sit up.

   Harlen placed a hand upon her chest, gently.  "Not yet, tomorrow." He
said.  "Give yourself a day to mend." She nodded as a cramp clutched her
pelvis, and laid back down.  He took up the clothes and folded them onto
the already crowded shelves.  He walked over to her doeskin boots that lay
by the little pool.  They were reasonably clean, and he sat them beside the
folded clothes on the shelf.

   Next, he began to clear that shelf of his detritus, storing it on other
shelves, or putting it in one or the other of the chests.  He placed the
now dry and folded blanket onto the shelf, along with half a dozen of the
small squares of cloth she had been using for her injury.  She realized,
this was her shelf now.  The thought pleased her inordinately, and she
smiled at him as he went about his project.  She knew now what that odd
feeling had been in her chest this last day or so.  It was her heart
turning.  A single tear rolled down her cheek.

   Turning from his task, Harlen saw that tear.  "You are pained?" He
asked, his face flush with concern.

   She smiled widely.  "No." She said, then held her arms up to him.  He
leaned down and she embraced him with all her might.  "I am very well now."
She said into his neck.

   The look of confusion on Harlen's face would have made her laugh had she
seen it, but he soon started smiling as well, and he enjoyed the embrace of
this lovely woman.  "I am glad you're feeling better." He said, and put his
arms around her, lifting her a little from the bed.  She felt so small in
his arms, yet she was strong inside, he thought.  He liked the feel of her
hair on his cheek, and when he sighed then inhaled.  He thought that he
smelled a faint scent of cinnamon.

   After a long moment, he pulled away and went to his little larder.  From
it he brought out another two loaves of bread and a jar of butter and some
dried apples.  He brought them to her and they ate on the blanket, giggling
and laughing every time a crumb dropped.

   On into the night they sat, and spoke of things, mostly of life in their
respective home villages.  He marveled at her tales of the wonders of an
elven community, and she wondered at the tales of the marvels of human
lands.  From what she heard, in the fifty or so years that the elves of
Windir stopped visiting the humans of the Western Realms, they had done
much, and been busy.  They had made, from his tales, amazing items of
non-magical nature that were a wonder to behold.  She hoped to perhaps see
some of these things in her days.  For his part, his eyes sparkled at the
tales of magical doing and things from her home.  They spoke long into the
night, making each other laugh, gasp, and stare, wide-eyed.

   After what surely was middle night, Harlen rose from the bed, and they
spent a few moments getting the crumbs out of it.  He then stood up and
went to the clothing chest, as she called it.  He took of his shirt and
folded it, and she watched him.  She ran her golden eyes over his muscled
body and arms, then he turned again and walked to the bed.  "You don't mind
me shirtless, do you?" He asked.

   She stammered a moment.  "Need you see my face and still ask that?" She
said, smiling up at him.  "Your chest and arms are quite lovely to behold,
Harlen." She said.

   He blushed charmingly at the compliment.  "I thank you then.  I hate
wearing shirts to bed." He said.  Hyandai giggled at him, and he looked at
her quizzically.

   "Sorry, just, well, it is more normal for us elves to sleep unclad." She
said, now blushing herself.

   His eyes widened at that.  Then he got a mischievous grin upon his face.
"Do not let ME come between you and your time-honored traditions." He said
self-righteously.  Then smiling brightly at her laughter.  "I'm afraid,
however, that I would not sleep well, at all."

   "If I were not infirm, Harlen, I might just do that." She said, scooting
over to make room for him.  "Now into the bed, my pillow."

   He laid beside her, and he turned to face her.  She lifted her head and
he slid is arm beneath it.  She laid back down and pressed her hand to his
chest near that shoulder.  She liked the warm feeling of his skin and the
surprising softness of it.  Her other hand rested under his head, and he
nuzzled it, pricking her with the stubble of his cheek.  "You need to
shave, my pillow, you are becoming prickly." She said, rubbing his cheek.

   He kissed her palm then said.  "I will upon the morn, m'lady.  I cannot
abide prickly pillows myself."

   She let the tingle from his kiss die down before saying.  "Well, I doubt
you will come across much prickly on me." She said, smiling.

   Harlen smiled widely and said.  "Of that I feel pretty safe." He reached
up and picked up the glowing stone, she held the little bag for him and he
dropped it in.  She then cinched the bag up and place it on her shelf. 
Both her hands went back to their places on him and his free hand rested on
her hip.  He squeezed gently on her there, and she liked that, almost too
much as she nearly let out a moan.  Just as he was nearly dozing, and she
could hear his breath become regular and deep, she leaned forward a bit and
kissed him.

   She grinned in the dark as his eyes popped open.  He could not see her,
but she, being elven born, could see him perfectly in the dark.  He looked
into the darkness for a moment, imagining that he could still see her
golden eyes even in the inky blackness of the cave, but knew he could not.
"You thief." He said quietly, smiling.

   She kissed his arm.  "Thief, you say?" She whispered.

   He nodded into the darkness, and said.  "Yes, you stole a kiss."

   She giggled gently and quietly and then was silent.  They both fell
asleep soon after, and dreamed.

   --

   The next morning found Hyandai awake before Harlen again.  She laid
there a moment, enjoying herself being held.  She smiled to herself,
thinking that she would not mind waking this way many, many more times. 
His strong arms were wrapped around her from beneath and above, and she was
pulled tight to him.  She knew that they had not been thus all night, but
were certainly in this very position for much of it.  Her hand stroked the
forearm nearest her face, and she watched the tiny hairs bounce back after
her fingers' passage.

   Harlen moved slightly with the touch and was suddenly cupping her left
breast.  Her golden eyes grew large at the jolt this delivered to her body.
He simply held it and did not squeeze, yet it was causing her breath to
come up short.  Soon, however, she had become used to the touch and rather
enjoyed the feeling of his strong fingers.  The nipple on that breast was
stiffening under the contact, and the nipple of it's partner was stiffening
in sympathy.  She moved slightly to cause some movement of her breast under
that hand, and the hand reacted by grasping gently, this actually did cause
her to moan very softly, her eyes squeezed shut.  The buttons on the front
of the shirt were large and widely spaced.  In a fit of uncharacteristic
naughtiness, she unbuttoned the top one and pushed the shirt down from
under the hand.  The cloth slowly slid between her breast and his rough
hand.  After a moment she had the soft flesh of her chest completely
uncovered and her nipple was pressed into his worn palm.  Again she moved
it slightly, and he responded again by squeezing.  She had to gulp to
prevent herself from moaning loudly at the feelings the pressure excited in
her.

   Deciding that the game had gone on long enough, she gently pulled the
cloth back up, and covered her breast again.  She longed for when she could
let him touch them openly, or when he would want to.  She was far from
certain that he fully wanted her, his reactions to her were somewhat
confusing from time to time, but she did have the general idea that he was
favorable.  She was still afraid to try, though, his rejection would
shatter her, especially now.

   She stroked his arm a bit more and pressed gently back into him.  He
pulled on her, forcing her tighter against him and she actually had to put
effort into breathing for a few moments before his arms relaxed a little.

   Perhaps half an hour passed of her just lying there, and being held. 
Then she heard Harlen's breathing change pattern as he regained
consciousness.  As he made the transition, she gently moved his hand from
her breast, not wanting him to be alarmed that he might have taken
`privileges' again.  Then he was awake.  "Good morrow." He said into her
ear, very gently, in a whisper.

   She squirmed a bit pushing into him.  "And to you, pillow." Hyandai
said.

   Harlen chuckled at that, and loosened his arms.  He brought the upper
arm back and scratched his neck, yawning.  "That was a wonderful sleep." He
said.  "I've not slept that well for many long days." She felt him fumbling
with the leather pouch and suddenly light filled the small cave.  She moved
away from him a little and rolled over to face him.  "You're so beautiful
in the morning, even, Hyandai." He said, giving her a sleepy smile.  "I
actually cannot believe my fortune to see that face as my first sight of a
morning."

   Hyandai blushed at this very touching compliment.  She had heard elven
lords deliver clumsier and cruder lines.  "Thank you, my pillow." She said,
nodding gently, and closing her eyes for a moment.  When she reopened them
she locked them onto his.  "Waking with your arms about me is my fortune. I
wish I could express how secure and warm it makes me feel." The elven way
is to give a compliment for one given to you, and she liked the rule.

   Rolling out of the bed, Harlen stood and turned again.  "Bread and
cheese?" He asked.

   She shook her head, sitting up.  "No.  I want my new clothes to break
fast, after I bathe."

   "You wish to bathe this morn?" Said Harlen.  "Then I will go outside to
check a trap or two of mine, perhaps we will eat meat today."

   She smiled at his exuberance.  Then nodded.  "Very well, Quesset." She
said.  "It means pillow.  And be very careful." She added when he tilted
his head and raised one eyebrow.  Harlen put on a shirt and boots and
grabbed his bow and sword, and slipped out of the cave.

   For the first time in days, Hyandai was alone.  She was not at all sure
she liked the feeling, and suddenly moved slower and did no longer smile.
"Hurry back, Quesset." She murmured to the empty cave.  She rolled out of
the bed and walked gingerly to the little pool.  Sliding his shirt over her
head, she sat on the edge, then slipped in.  She had stopped bleeding
yesterday, and she wanted to make sure any clots were gone now.  She bathed
for a long while, just soaking and enjoying the feeling of buoyancy.  She
still longed for the company of the man who had saved her life, twice now.

   She finally tired of the bath, and did not scrub her skin, if Harlen
liked the cinnamon scent she gave off, she would wear it for him.  Besides,
the lye soap burned, and she did not want to use it more than she had to.
She lifted herself out of the pool and dried with the blanket.  Her head
turned to look at the folded leather on the shelf.  The doeskin clothes. 
She rose and walked to them.  He had said she could wear them today, so she
put them on.  They fitted almost perfectly, though he had overestimated her
breast size a little, it was not enough that pulling the drawstrings
between her breasts a little snugger would not repair.

   She wished she had a mirror, so that she could appraise herself.  She
looked over Harlen's goods on the shelves, and saw a rather shiny helmet
among the items.  She took it down and sat it on the bed, then stepped back
to regard her reflection.  Distorted as it was, she thought she looked
quite presentable.  She plaited her hair into two tails to the back of her
head and bound them with some rawhide strips she found on another shelf. 
"Almost presentable" She said to herself.  Then heard sounds of movement
near the entrance.  She snatched up her rapier and looked toward the
doorway.

   Harlen's head peeked in.  "Decent?" He asked with his eyes squeezed
shut.

   "Yes, Harlen." She said, giggling.  "I am clad." She quickly put down
the rapier and stood back up, sliding her hands over the front of the
skirt, smoothing it.

   He opened his eyes and looked toward her.  They went wide with surprise,
as did his mouth, in a smile.  "You are beautiful." He said.  Then he
stepped in with two rabbits, already gutted and skinned.  "And these will
be tasty."

   She grinned as his non-sequitur, and walked toward him.  "Thank you for
these." She said, looking down at herself.  "They are very finely made, and
I am honored to wear them."

   He looked her up and down, then did it again.  Then he looked into her
golden eyes.  "You made my white shirt look good, so these were bound to
look great."

   She smiled at his return compliment, and took the rabbits from him.  "I
can move about today, I think, so long as I do not do anything strenuous."
She explained.  "So, I will earn my keep today." She walked toward the
small fire-pit near the entrance.

   "The fire must be kept small, and use only the dry wood." He said. 
"Else the smoke will fill the chamber or the smoke will be seen outside."

   Hyandai nodded.  "I understand." She said, and bent over to stack some
of the wood.

   Harlen did a rapid turn to face away from the view he had just been
blessed with.  When she stood, she looked back and realized her error. 
"Oh, by the spirits.  I am sorry, Harlen." She said.  "I did not mean to
offend."

   He chuckled.  "Offend isn't the word I would choose, m'lady." He said.
"Shock, perhaps, or maybe stun, or even possibly amaze."

   She giggled.  "I shall fix it at once." She said.  "May I borrow your
sharp knife?"

   He held the requested implement out to her and she cut a cloth from the
ever-dwindling blanket.  He turned about while she placed it, folding the
ends over the front and back of her skirt and the middle running between
her legs.  "There." She said.  "I am now presentable again." She was
blushing profusely.  "I cannot believe I did that."

   Harlen smiled to her.  "I can honestly say I can't believe it either."
He said.  "But now, I'll have fodder for dreams for years."

   Her blush deepened to near crimson.  "It cannot have been that special,
Harlen." She said, avoiding his eyes.

   He looked at her, enjoying her minor discomfiture.  "While the view may
not have been that special in and of itself, the setting it was in made it
all the more." He said, wondering if he had said that the way he wanted to.

   She grinned.  "You flatter me." She said.  "But now, I wish to cook."
She went to the small pile of wood and got it lit.  Checking behind her
every so often and only catching Harlen staring at her backside about half
the time.  She had to admit she enjoyed the attention.

   Harlen could not believe what he had just seen, and was still trying to
calm down his pounding heart.  Hyandai was exquisite beyond any other woman
he had ever seen, and to have seen her thus had made him hard enough to
have driven nails with his organ.  He spent several minutes trying to get
his body under control, but kept looking back at her half-exposed rump. 
She even saw him a couple of times, which made him even more skittish, as
she seemed to not mind him looking.

   The smell of cooking rabbit meat soon started filling the little cave,
and Harlen's mouth started to water a second time.  She rose from her
rather exposing position with a half a rabbit impaled on his small skinning
knife.  "This portion is done." She announced.