Ya gotta share

**In a small cove and on a beach, just south of the Port of Kamras**

Finishing cleanning the salt water off , so I don't get all grimy later on the trail, I look over at you.. I can see you're getting skinny and haven't been eating enough , or like my slave told me , you just keep forcing yourself to puke it back up..

I look alittle annoyed , but I toss a chunk of soap in a bucket with fresh water and then walk to the serving tent, grabbing a bota of slightly salted water and a small pouch of tabuk jerky ..

Walking up to where I have you chained to the iron spike on that big flat rock, I set the bucket near you and toss the food and water infront of you..

"Clean up Woman, we will be leaving soo9n and I don't want the stench of you to scare off all the natives that we may pass"

..I haven't quite decided what to do with you , even though it's been another Hand since Korat.. I've allowed you to keep the gown , though several of the Raiders have thought of stripping you down because I haven't really said not to .. But those few attempts or thoughts were quickly quelled by Mandha, who has kept an eye on you this whole time .. I have sent him on patrol a few times , but he's always returned near you and watched , waited ..

I look down at you now , expecting more quips and fowl attitude, but this is the first kindness of words I've given you since letting you out of the barrel..

Your next words clearly will determine how things go from here on out for you..

hello cutie

It is lovely to be here. Louisiana-bound...

peeks in

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i amsorry Ms but i must go

Mom?

Stepmom?

I know Ms Kitara knows what’s best for us

St Giles' Cathedral, High Street

He had dragged, or one might charitably say, carried, the torpid form of the staked vampire along the High Street; to any passerby he was just another man chumming home a companion gone insensible with drink – certainly a common enough sight in these environs.

Pushing open the doors to the cathedral, he paused inside to exhale a slow breath. His faith was one of the Old Tradition, born in the days when men literally fought and killed to secure their place in heaven. He was less certain about that part these days, and far less trustful of organised religion in general, though his Faith was a living, breathing thing – even if it was a faith driven by belief in his mission.

He had stopped asking himself what the source of that mission was, it was the work which mattered now.

Hefting the creature under his arm, he dragged it into the chaos of the kirk. The building was only slightly younger than he was, built around the year 1124, and had formed into four distinct kirks under one high roof, with stone walls built inside to separate the churches. The restoration work currently underway, the second part of some fifty years of previous work, sought to restore the building to one unified High Kirk.

Services continued as best they could, and he had come to... an understanding with the ministers and presbyters. For men with such staunch faith, it took little convincing from him that the myriad evils which beset the world were as real as the God they believed in.

I know your rules

I respect all rules

i am sure You know my rules for now. Not sure when or if they will change Ms

Thank you voda

Enjoying your attention

i can see why Ms they are beautiful

mmmmm nice of Her to say Iam trying

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Giggles at your thigh comment
I love my leg muscles

He did not answer, but instead pushed forward with both feet in a bursting attack, and with both hands drove the stake into the fiend’s heart, relying on the surprise of the moment and his own gifts to seize the upper hand. With his right hand, he pounded the end of the stake once… twice, a third time, and the abomination stopped its wretched hissing and dropped, insensible, at his feet.

With a sigh, he withdrew his handkerchief and pressed it against the wound at his neck, holding it there with a firm pressure to staunch the flow of blood. He straightened his coat then and looked down at the fallen fiend. “I have been asking myself that very question for a remarkably long time.” The question of ‘what’ he was had been asked but he longer questioned ‘why’ he had been changed in this way, so long ago.

Gathering himself, he bent down to hoist the fiend to its feet and began half-carrying and half-dragging the creature back up towards the entrance of the close, somewhat scuffing the leech’s shoes as he made the slow trudge back up the High Street towards the edifice of St Giles’ Cathedral.

She sat with the long legs tucked beneath the threads of the brown gown and the stained ivory undergown faring not much better. Watching silently the man emerging from the sea, the slight shine of light in the gold eyes left when she squinted from the rays solid and bright in the grip of the day. The solid form of Mandha stood nearby; his attempt to share words met with the turn of her shoulder; the lithe form buffeted by Thassa winds and moved away to the length allowed by the iron links of the chain; it was where she remained. Upon the rock now, limbs curled, hidden away in the tatter of a stained, brown skirt and the wealth of wild disarray of hair mantling the rest.