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Forest of the Sapphisari [FxF] (Raina_Reader X Javorcek)

Javorcek

Supernova
Joined
Jun 19, 2013
Location
United Sates - NY
“I’ve got 10 silver on Cooky!”

“Come on, Smithy! Show ‘im who’s boss.”

“I’m not fighting her!” The new cook grumbled in response to the circle of jeering mercenaries that surrounded himself and the blacksmith. The men had decided to camp in this clearing for the night. It wasn't quite dark yet though and so to pass the time, a couple of the mercenaries had decided to wrestle and take bets on who would come out the victor. "And keep your voices down!" The young cook hissed, glancing around the treeline nervously. For days the small band of mercenaries had been making their way through the uncharted woods, hired by the king to find a path through the Berges mountains...few ever left this pass alive. While he and many others believed that the pass was cursed, their leader chalked up such bad luck to the weather and fools not being able to find the exit from the pass.

“And why not fight her?!?!” An older scout glared at the chef expectantly, obviously he was taking offense to such chivalry because the young blacksmith had often proved her worth by following him on recon missions. To him, Sasha was as good as as any male in the field, and so an insult on her ability was less an insult on her gender and more an assault on her status as a blacksmith/scout.

“She’s just a kid!” The cook said exasperatedly as he tried to grasp for excuses, not wishing to offend the female soldiers but also not wishing to hit a girl either.

“I am a winter younger than you! And I can fight just fine.” Sasha growled, now getting properly annoyed. The cook was maybe only a year or two older than her! And worst of all, he was making this whole thing damn thing embarrassing!

Usually in bands of mercenaries, the cooks, medics, and blacksmiths were not expected to actually fight in skirmishes because it was difficult to find skilled replacements for them; but still, the leader made them practice and spar. Whether it was to prepare them for a surprise attack that broke through their ranks or simply for the amusement of the other mercenaries, Sasha couldn’t be sure.

When the their leader barked at the two of them to suck it up and spar, both specialists complied. The group that had gathered around them was soon surprised to see Sasha knocking the cook’s sword away after a few blows, the young chef looking just as astonished as the rest of the crowd.

“Beginner’s luck… Isolder! Get in there!” The leader hollared and now Sasha found herself facing off against a young male mercenary who had obviously seen his fair share of fights if the scars on his face were any gauge of his past. Again, Sasha’s speed, flexibility and agility made her the victor of this round.

"Alright Smithy, alright. I take it back, not beginner's luck." The older man laughed.

"Yes, well, hard to make a quality sword unless you know how to swing one." Sasha grinned as she sheathed her blade. Fighting wasn't quite her cup of tea, she preferred to make weapons rather than use them. But a poor, journeyman smith like her had to be well versed in swordplay as she worked to design her masterwork piece. Shooing the horses of mercenaries and repairing their gear wasn't so bad, hopefully this job would leave her with enough money to finally buy proper materials for her masterwork and return to her father as a Master Blacksmith.
 
"There's forty of them atleast."

"Fifty eight"

"Th-that's more than-"

"More than we've ever seen at one time yes, atleast in our generation, Elder Mune has had stories but that was centuries ago."

"What are we supposed to do? With just six of us, we can't risk fetching the border keepers, nor can we run to the grove."

"Six is enough. Now that they've relaxed and removed their headwear, I've counted five women. It is important we do what ever it takes to preserve them."

"But Khalla, as soon as we attack, it will be chaos, and even if we manage to succeed without casualty, there's never been five rituals at once."

"Well Akara, it will be quite the day of celebration won't it. We must show caution though. These humans came from the west, and we've never seen armed soldiers of this quality from that side before."

Akara nodded slow. "Many are drunk, showing little care of the dangers that lurk around them."

"Yes, we are fortunate of this. give the signal. We will rain arrows from above, before they know what is happening we should be able to kill most of the men, then we restrain the women. Remember, more does not make them disposable, they are all our sisters."

Akara draped her long orange tail down below the branch so the others high within the trees could see the signal and prep their bows while she did the same, glancing to Khalla on her right, who remained perched and ready, without a bow, but a dagger clutched tightly in her hand.

Khalla was the Matriarch of the western keepers and one of the oldest sapphisari among the warriors. She was tall and broad, with a long mane of raven black hair, blending in with her short black fur trailing down the sides of her body, blending seamlessly with pale flesh. thin white stripes marked the fur on the sides of her torso, hips and cheeks. She and the rest of the Sapphisari warriors were dressed in dark leathers and fur kilts, covering their chest and hips but leaving the rest to feel the gentle forest breeze. Khalla's golden eyes stared down watching them intently waiting for the perfect moment until....her trail dropped below the branch they were perched upon, just like Akara's had and arrows rained from the canopy of trees, five at a time, seconds apart from each other. Four volleys had claimed twenty men before the carefree band of mercenaries realized they were under attack. This had nothing to do with incompetence, but a was testament to how quickly the arrows were fired.

Panic ensued, and the next four volleys only claimed half of their targets. By the time they unleashed another wave of volleys, the company had armed themselves and taken cover, while the untrained took cover or fled. This was the difficult part, not only were they still greatly outnumbered, surprise was their only advantage and they still had to safely preserve the five women. Once all one hundred of their arrows had been spent, sixteen of the mercs remained alive. Khalla gave one more flick of her tail before all six women leapt from the high trees, landing with grace , surrounding the outskirts of the clearing. They knew they still had a fight on their hands.

The Sapphisari dispersed in all directions, two persuing the women that had to be captured at all costs, blurs of dark furred, orange, blonde and white furred creatures sprinted at inhuman speeds, all with different weapons in their hands to engage the humans in battle or chase down those who were fleeing.

To the humans the creatures looked feral and savage and yet when the large dark furred one shouted "Secure the clearing!" in perfect common.
 
After sparring and wrestling, Sasha was finally able to slip away and go back to her duties. It was difficult for her to work when they were marching through the woods; even when she rode in the back of one of the wagons, it was difficult to do much more than simple mending and polishing. Now that she was on steady ground, she could sharpen weapons, fix armor, pound out some more arrowheads and check the shoes of the horses. They had only been on the road for a week or so and had not encountered any resistance other than the random bear or pack of wolves; so there wasn't much difficult labor for her to do, mostly just light maintenance.

Sasha finished up her work near the cart that was their makeshift armory and was about to head towards where the horses were kept when suddenly the whine of arrows through the air and the surprised shouts of men hit her ears.

"Ambush!"

"To arms! To arms!"

"Scatter!"

"To arms!"

The small camp was soon abuzz with shouting and people running everywhere, to their tents to get their gear or to the cart that contained extra weapons. Sasha saw many bodies down on the ground and while her first instinct was to run, she knew there would be no outrunning an arrow from a well trained marksman. The only option was to stay and fight, so she hurried to grab her gear. Armed with only a small buckler and her sword, she felt relief that the archers must have run out of arrows because no more death was raining from above. Now there were creatures coming towards them, four heading towards the men and women who were forming ranks and two others running after the stragglers (which were of course the specialists: the female medics, the male cook, and Sasha herself).

After seeing one of the savage creatures slit the throat of the cook, Sasha knew she had no choice but to fight the animal who was approaching her. An orange, cat-like beast approached Sasha with inhuman speed and in her fear that this monster would soon be upon her, Sasha thrust her sword wildly forward. The young blacksmith looked nearly as surprised as the creature she had speared when the hit connect, the sword driving into the animal's side.
 
The orange furred creature froze in fear and shock as she was stuck by the blade, staring into the eyes of the human woman who appeared just as equally frightened as she was.

"AKARA!" cried another voice as a second one with long grey hair and fur sprinted toward her with murder in her eyes. Akara slumped over and soon slid off of the blade before collapsing into a heap when the grey one tackled the smithy to the ground, hissing wildly like the feral creature she appeared to be, sharp claws digging deep into the girls shoulders.

"Lyssia! No, you musn't harm her! She doesn't know what she's done yet!" yelled a tall, muscular, black furred creature who was fighting three of the soldiers at once with a spear she had taken from them. Despite her large size she elegantly weaved in between the three soldiers in and out, evading each strike as she spun her spear with grace. With a final flurry and a riposte two of the soldiers crumbled where they stood before she swiped low cleanly severing the thirds leg.

Lyssia continued to hiss savagely into the girls face, pinning her to the ground hard, yet her claws retracted from the deep wounds they caused and she began to bind the girls wrists above her head with a thin, yet durable rope, doing the same to her legs. Before she got up, she stared deep into the girls eyes with large golden orbs and hissed one last time before delivering a sharp blow to her head to render her unconscious, relishing in the violence more than she should have.
There was no time for her to grieve her fallen sister. Before she could even turn to examine the body of Akara, she looked out into the chaos around her. She could see two other human women restrained on the ground as their Matriarch Khalla fought against the remaining men in the area. Where are the others? She thought desperately. Had they all ran off chasing stragglers, or were they...no...At Khalla's feet was Nahl, and Persephone, bloodied and unmoving.


Charging forward she leapt and tackled one of the men slashing at her matriarch, not even bothering to use a weapon, she dug her claws into the mans exposed neck and tore at him violently, ripping at the veins in his neck until he bled out. The attack had been a disaster. What initially seemed like a day to celebrate, the idea of welcoming five more sisters into the tribe the next morning, had turned into a day of mourning. By the time the fighting was over they had lost three sisters, Akara, Persephone and Nahl, and one of the human women fleeing from the battle had taken a fall down a steep incline and snapped her neck, leaving them with only four possible new additions, which meant their tribe would only grow by one, and Nahl, Akara and Persephone would never meet their new sisters that they sacrificed their lives for.

It wasn't long before reinforcements arrived from the western border, but by then the fighting was over. The ten additional sapphisari checked in with Khalla before a few set work on deconstructing the humans camp, a couple others collected their arms and armor and anything else valuable for the watch, while the rest would be taken to the grove to be reused. The four human women and two men were dragged off, deeper into the forest toward the grove where they made their home.


When the smithy regained consciousness she found herself on her knees, wrists and ankles tied to a large pillar behind her that her back was up against. The deep wounds on her shoulders were cleaned and bandaged, and Sasha's clothes had been stripped away, leaving her naked. Upon first observation she would find herself in a room or possibly a hut, crafted out of unrefined wood, a lantern burning on some kind of clear liquid along with two other unidentified objects sat upon an unsymmetrical wooden table which was placed near the door directly ahead of her. The floor was crafted out of thin logs and were separated enough that one would be able to peer through and see the dirt and grass several feet below, giving the impression that the hut was lifted or on stilts. A single window near the door, above the table was open, without wooden panes or glass, peering out into the starry night sky. Night was clearly upon them now, but strangely no tree's could be seen from her angle. The only other piece of furniture in the room was a wooden chair seemingly crafted without precise tools, like everything else, and sitting upon it was a woman who resembled the same feral creatures that attacked them in the woods.

"Careful now." She cooed softly from her chair, one leg crossed over the other. "You took a pretty heavy blow to the head, I have something to help with that, but you're going to need to cooperate." The woman spoke the common tongue as well as any human from the city, infact for savage creatures they seemed to possess a lot of the same ingenuities that humans proudly displayed. The ability to craft and build, make clothing, even the lantern was human in design, either these creatures made a habit of pilfering anything from language to tools from th ehumans they came across, or there was something deeper to them. This one was a lithe figure, dressed in dark leathers around her chest and hips. a long spotted tail weaving back and forth along the floor. Her exposed midriff was pale in color, flesh like that of a human but the surrounding area was covered in short orange fur adorned with black blotches and spots. The fur reached all the way down her legs and up to the sides of her rather human looking face. Her deep feral looking golden eyes and a light curl of her top lip along with her larger feline like ears nearing the top of her head along with the fur and tail separated her from that of a human, but there were a lot of striking similarities, and perhaps in this womans dulled state she could have mistaken this one that sat before her for the one she killed in the woods during the ambush, after all they all looked like feral feline-esque humans. This one had shorter hair, but with long bangs, one draped over her left eye.

The pillar in which the woman was tied to was against the back wall of the hut but centralized between the two walls on either side, giving her and the other creature twelve or so feet distance from each other. "We have five other prisoners elsewhere, one of the men I believe is your leader, he will be questioned, the rest of your company are dead for trespassing in our sacred grove. You're fortunate the elders selected me for this. Considering you murdered Akara, and your friends killed Persephone and Nahl. Some wanted to gut you and your company where they found you...but it's fine, all will be made right in the end." The girl spoke in a certain calm, clearly trying to be comforting toward the human but her voice cracked when she mentioned the names of their fallen. Yet she clearly demonstrated zero sympathy toward all of the people they killed when they ambushed them.

She picked up a waterskin, one of the previously unknown objects shrouded by the lantern and picked herself up, stepping cautiously toward the prisoner, gazing down at her, but she did not kneel, not yet.

"My name is Chelle."
 
For a brief, glimmering moment, Sasha thought that she would be safe. Even animals thought twice about pursuing their prey once one of their number was injured. So as the beast slid off the end of her sword, she expected to hear the creatures calling a retreat...not to be knocked into her ass by an infuriated animal. "Get off!" The young blacksmith growled and tried to fight, but the girl wasn't much good at grappling. "GAHHHH!" Sasha howled in pain as claws suddenly dug into her shoulders, piercing her unarmored flesh. Tears pricked her eyes and her first instinct was to freeze - she knew that if she moved, the claws would rip at her muscles and skin and filet her alive. But soon enough she realized that with this snarling, hissing, savage beast mere inches from her face, that if she didn't move that she would die, the animal perched atop her would kill her. So she fought, with everything she had, kicking and struggling, huffing and barely holding herself together as pain streaked through her entire body.

Of course the blacksmith, as strong as she was from working metals all day, was not trained in the art of hand to hand combat. Before she knew it, the creature had managed to wrench her arms above her head and was binding her wrists together. Now with fear truly setting in, Sasha truly struggled for everything she was working, kicking for as long as her legs were free and then squirming when they were bound as well. The last thing she saw was a pair of angry yellow eyes seeming to pierce her soul before a harsh strike was delivered to her head, rendering the blacksmith unconscious.


--------

"Nnngff..." Sasha groaned as she awoke, her head throbbing from the blow, her shoulders searing with pain from the claws...but the pain was comparable to when she used to burn herself over the forge when she was an apprentice blacksmith. Slowly, her bright blue eyes opened to take stock of her current situation...which was not good, not at all. Once she noticed that she was naked, bound, and apparently off the ground and in a tree, the young blacksmith began to struggle against her bindings, hissing softly in pain as she stretched the cuts on her shoulders open again. But still, she struggled despite the fact that she was hurting herself in the process. What else could she do? She needed to get out of here! She wasn't afraid of heights but hell, she hadn't been up a tree since she was a kid. And the fact that she was naked, alone, vulnerable, and wounded just made her struggle all the harder.

A soft voice urging her to calm down made her head snap up so quickly that she felt dizzy. "No" Cooperate?! She wasn't going to cooperate! She had seen what these monsters had done to the band of mercenaries that she had been traveling with. Now she was a prisoner and this one expected her to cooperate?!?! Sasha eyed the female looking creature warily as it got up and approached her, the young smith unconsciously curling in upon herself, trying to hide her nakedness from the monster that stood before her.

"I have murdered no one." The young smith bristled at the very idea that she would murder anyone or anything. Murderers killed for pleasure, murderers were heartless fiends or insane psychopaths. Sasha killed to defend herself or her home land. And even when she hunted, she killed for the sake of food, not for the sake of a trophy. "I was defending myself from you...creatures. But you, you all are the murderers. How can you murder over 50 soldiers who are merely trying to find a path through this pass?!" And this was what Sasha could not comprehend: how could anyone lay claim to this area of land? There were no cities here! No resources besides the trees! No clearings for farms!

Sasha pursed her lips and looked away from the creature as it came close with the waterskin. Although her throat was parched and her body cried out for liquids to replace all the blood she had lost, she refused to drink because she did not trust the animal. The creature gave its name and Sasha, having always been taught to not be rude and figuring that there would be no harm in giving her name, responded, "I am called Smithy, for that is my trade, but my given name is Sasha."
 
Chelle considered the girls words for a moment, staring at her unblinkingly, her long tail twitching ever so slightly along the floor before she knelt down before the smithy until they were eye level. She lifted her free hand to gently graze the girls cheek with her finger tips.

"No, you're right, calling it murder is unfair, I apologize. You were scared and had no idea what you were doing or what we were, which is why it isn't being held against you, your own guilt will likely be punishment enough." her hand fell from her face as she exhaled a soft sigh. "The killing of your company could not be helped, it is for our protection. We do have a home here, we do grow crops, we have homes and many people who live here. The men have no place among us, and to let them go after learning of our existence would be dangerous...as for you...well in time you will adapt to your new life here."

She raised the waterskin to the girls lips after uncapping it. The scent wafting from its content was aromatic, floral. "This is bitter tea. Pleasant enough, but bitter after taste. You need to take a sip, and only a sip, it will clear your head and quench your thirst. You will need to drink the rest after, so only a sip for now" She lifted it up, pressing the hard leather to her lips, hoping she would cooperate on this matter but knew just how defiant some could get. She pulled it away after a moment whether the girl willfully drank or not and recapped the skin. "I need to treat you, after, you will drink all of it, it will help you sleep."

Chelle lifted herself up from the floor, turning away from the girl, her hips swaying slowly as she walked with a kind of feline grace. "The name you speak will be shrugged away, like clothing, you will be given a new one in the morning, as for your trade...that's impressive, do you enjoy your work? We haven't had a smithy amidst the tribe, atleast not in my generation" She set the waterskin back onto the table and now picked up a large stone bowl, which had been the other object previously obscured by the lantern, slowly she carried it over to Sasha and set it down before her, returning to her knees as well.

Within the bowl was an opaque liquid with a strong sickly scent, enough to induce nausea, and soaking within were strips of moss and cloth stitched together. "This is my first time performing this ritual. I've only been here thirteen full moons..roughly a year by your human calendar..." She forced a weak smile as she remained still, lost in thought, attempting to plan how she would go about this. "The elders say it is taboo to speak of our past lives, and I understand why, but I feel sometimes it should be necessary, like now, so I can relate to you on some level and ease your fears."

Chelle closed her eyes biting her lip, clearly frustrated about the current situation, and slowly placed her hands over the bowl, as if the putrid smell was affecting her as well. Everything she had been saying so far was vague and senseless to the human who saw herself as prisoner and nothing more. "My Sapphress was completely the opposite, she was stubborn, demanding and stern, instead of addressing my fears she commanded that I accept what was happening and showed no sympathy for my lack of understanding. I feel like it is the reason it took me as long as I did to accept my place here. Everyone has their own way, I can't fault her for that...but" She paused, searching the girls deep blue eyes, aware that nothing she was saying was making sense. "A Sapphress is someone who aides and guides another into transition into the tribe. Which is what I am to you, and what someone else at one point was to me, and what you will be to another eventually. Over a year ago, I was where you are now, bound, frightened looking upon a being that I saw only as a beast, I had no idea of what was happening to me, and by the time the ritual was over I was still frightened and confused with only stern words to accept and not question. I disagree with that method, even if I encroach on the taboo, I want you to understand that I know what you're feeling."
 
"That is impossible, no beings can survive without males to sire children. Even animals come in two genders for the sake of procreating." How could there possibly be a city of -only- these female creatures? And who would do all the tasks that men did? Sasha knew she was an oddity, not many females went into the blacksmithing profession - usually they would go into jewelcrafting or some other skilled trade that did not require so much muscle. But Sasha was tall and broad shouldered, built like her father, and nearly strong as him too...few women shared her stature. How did this city survive if men did not do the heavy lifting required in carpentry or brandish the strength required when working the land?

When the creature came closer to Sasha with the waterskin, the young blacksmith shrank away, pursing her lips more determinedly now. The mercenaries had told tales of potions and tonics that could make a man go mad, of tortures that could cause a person to willingly beg for death. Sasha was not about to lose her wits for the sake of staving off her thirst. She shook her head, refusing to drink when the leather was pressed to her lips. It was only when the stubborn smith was forced to open her mouth did some of the fluid work its way into her mouth unwillingly, causing the young girl to cough, sputter, and glare daggers at the creature who acted as if this were all okay, as if it were normal for people to be bound to a pillar and then told that they would forget everything of their old life, including their names.

----------

"Why not charge more for your goods to travelers like all the other shops in town do, father? Travelers pass through here all the time, it's not like you'd ever see that man again."

"Because that is bad business. Besides, I do not wish for him to speak ill of me and my wares."

Sasha looked at her father quizically because that seemed to be the whole point of business: to make a profit. And as for speaking ill of her father and his goods, all the other blacksmiths in the city routinely insulted one another's goods and services in an attempt to steer customers their own way.

The old blacksmith smiled kindly to his daughter and began to explain, "Businesses fail. The house could burn down, I could be ambushed by bandits or struck by disease. The king could decide to take everything from me in the name of war, my home, my shop, enlist you and your brother into the army... But my good name is something that can never be taken away from me. Even if I had nothing tangible in this world, I would still have my name and reputation. That is why it is important to be fair and just, Sasha. Many blacksmiths can make a quality sword, but I'm sure that man would come back here because not all blacksmiths are polite and fair when it comes to their prices. It does no good in the long run to swindle someone and make a profit now. That customer will leave this place and will remark on how he was treated here when he goes to the next town, perhaps if he speaks favorably of me, more travelers will stop into this shop. Your word, your honor, your name...these are the things that no one can take from you, these are the things that matter. It is important that you remember that, Sasha.


--------------

Due to her father, Sasha's name was everything to the young blacksmith. And right now, the thought of him and her old life...the girl had never felt like a child... but right now, she did. Mother had died of sickness when she was six and from that point on, the girl had been thrust into adulthood by a father who had no idea what to do with children, but plenty of knowledge when it came to how to handle an apprentice. Most of her childhood was spent working, not throwing tantrums or crying...but right now, when told that she would be stuck in this place, that she would not be able to leave, that she would be forced into some mad ritual concocted by savage beasts in the woods... the girl teared up from more than physical pain. "I will not be a part of your ritual! I would rather die here, now, than live and not be able to go back home."
 
"I will not argue that our tribe and its methods of procreating are not...peculiar. I can't say for certain how we even came to be with our limitations, but we have managed to build a thriving society with the methods in place so I can't argue with that. I understand it is terrifying now, I get that but you will see in time. We really do have a good life here."

She sighed heavily, glancing down at the log floor where the bowl was set, her hands still firmly placed over the top to shield some of the unpleasant stench. She knew she could just begin the ritual now, it's what Raeliss had done to her. No warning, no words of comfort, and she was powerless to do anything but scream, bound as she was. The ritual was not a pleasant process. She supposed it was civilized in comparison to the way things used to be from the stories Elder Mune had told, from the salve that was created for each ritual, the tea that was brewed to ease the process and the act it's self was very methodical, even if it was unpleasant for the one receiving it. Supposedly a thousand years ago they were no better than than animals, savagely attacking women in the woods, biting and then infecting their wounds by licking them to pass along the affliction. Perhaps that's what it was in the beginning, a disease that plagued the odd traveler, that somehow due to the right people and proper circumstances was able to evolve into something good

Lifting one hand from the bowl, she reached into her kilt of wolf furs to withdraw a previously unseen knife. She knew the reveal would only cause more panic, but since what she had to do next would cause the girl to fall even deeper into panic, there was no sense in springing it all on her at once. She was going to do it her way, and hoped that this smithy would benefit from it.

She set the knife down across the bowl and placed her hands over the top again, wincing as she caught a draft of the foul odor. "Look. You can shout and scream, but it's not going to change anything. Believe it or not I'm trying to make this easy on you, my sapphress was not so kind. This ritual is not pleasant by any means. I'm going to have to cut your flesh with this knife in several places, they will be shallow and quick. I will then cover the wounds with poultice and the salve will seep into your wounds over night." She swallowed, biting her lip, wondering if explaining everything before hand was worth it, she was already panicked, maybe just doing it and getting it over with was better but she had to atleast try. "After I've applied them to your wounds, I will give you the tea, you must drink all of it for it to be helpful. I am telling you all of this now because so many, including myself refuse the tea after we've been cut on, because we were frightened, and the poultices are...disgusting." She wrinkled her nose, looking back down to the bowl underneathe her hands, before returning her golden gaze into sasha's blue orbs.

"Without the tea, you will begin to feel sick and aches throughout your body, it will continue to worsen until you are forced to vomit and it will continue till morning. You will feel like death, I know because I suffered it. I'm trying to tell you ahead of time so you don't suffer like I do, please understand, you are important and I'm trying to make this easier. The tea will ease the pain and help you sleep through the worst of it."

No matter how the girl reacted, she picked up the knife, preparing herself for something even she wasn't looking forward to.
 
As soon as she saw the knife, Sasha thought that perhaps her request would be granted: that she would be killed right here, right now. Death was scary in its finality but better than the life she would live as one of these beasts. It is better to pass on than to be tied to this world as a ghost. Yes, better to die than to be turned into one of these creatures and be forced to live a life that was not her choosing. That was perhaps where all of Sasha's resistance came from: choosing. Her father had never forced her into anything - had not forced her into marriage, had not forced her into a trade that was 'lady-like', had not forced her to stay home when she had voiced her desires to travel and earn money for her Masterwork piece on her own. Sasha had been one of the very few females in her village to be offered choices in her destiny and now, with all those choices removed by this beast, she would rather die than be forced to become an animal.

Determined as the girl appeared to accept death, her face fell when the creature said that the knife wasn't to kill her, it was actually part of the ritual. Again, she struggled in her bindings, digging the rope into her wrists and ankles but refusing to give up despite the pain. "NO! I WILL NOT BECOME ONE OF YOU!" Sasha shouted as she struggled, screamed as the knife cut her flesh (her wails sounded as though they came from someone whose spirit was being broken rather than someone who was undergoing physical pain). Bound, dehydrated, fatigued, and wounded, the girl put up one hell of a fight.

The young blacksmith's struggle was all in vain. All she had managed to do was injure herself further. The bindings were too strong for her to break free from and all her wriggling had reopened the claw wounds to her shoulders. When the creature had put the knife down after making all her cuts and moved to apply the salve, stubborn as Sasha was, she tried to bite at the beast whenever she could...though this too was a useless gesture because Chelle was so fast. As the putrid salve was spread over her wounds, her anger and frustration were the only things keeping her from vomiting at the stench of it.

When it was all over and she was told again to drink the tea, Sasha refused. After all that she had experienced today, none of her believed that a stupid drink could provide any relief for the suffering.
 
Saying what she thought was important about how the ritual worked before she cut on her did not have the reaction she had hoped. When she endured the ritual, Raelis did nothing to comfort or explain, simply told her she was going to be changed, made one of them, and started cutting on her. She remembered the panic and the fear vividly, So witnessing the girl grow more defiant with each cut; two shallow cuts on either side of her neck, one on her chest, one on her left shoulder and the last on her stomach, only served to further distress her.

Ignoring the struggling and the cries of the captive, she thought of all of the guards standing watch outside, or Elder Sarell and Elder Lantress who were in the area overseeing everything. Six prisoners, four being primed for the ritual was a big deal, ofcourse the Elders would wish to be present to make sure everything went smoothly. The length in which a prisoner was loud, screaming or panicked typically reflected on the skill of the sapphress. A smooth ritual meant that one may be considered by the Elders to perform the act again, when there was no longer a new tribe member to give the task to. The Elders sought out a veteran sapphress when a prisoner was high risk, and to be considered among those few was a great honor. If the girl refused the tea, she would be making noise all night, and Chelle knew this meant she would never be considered for this honor again.

There were only Four huts built a mile southwest of the grove where the rituals took place. The two male prisoners were being kept in one to be interrogated. Chelle was tasked with this girl, Varissa who had performed the ritual successfully once before was in the hut next to her, and the last hut contained the other two women, where a veteran sapphress was performing the ritual on both at one time. Chelle shuddered at the thought of trying to calm two at once.

After placing the poultice strips over each wound, where the foul smelling salve would soak into the shallow wounds over the night, her efforts to get the girl to drink were rebuffed.

"P-please...I know that it feels like your life is being stolen from you, that we are forcing a life you didn't ask for a-and maybe that's true." She paused. A lot of these thoughts and questions were still ripe in her own mind. She had finally come to terms with her fate and even grown to enjoy her life here but she questioned the morality of their ways, even if it was the only way to keep the tribe alive. Slipping the knife back into her furs, she set the waterskin down in order to pick up the stone bowl and carry it back to the table. Returning briefly afterward to her knees infront of the prisoner to pick up the waterskin once more.

"The muscle pain and nausea should be setting in soon. This is your last chance to drink. You may think you're accomplishing something by refusing this, but all you're doing is prolonging your own suffering, and the last thing I want for you is to suffer, you are one of us now and refusing to drink this won't stop the change-"

She pulled her hand away quickly to avoid the girls teeth. "Biting me won't help."

She tried one more time to force her to drink, but after suffering a near miss of the girl nearly chomping down on one of her fingers, she set the waterskin off to the side, running her fingers gently through her hair, careful to avoid further attempts of biting. "It's going to be a long night for the both of us." She said sadly

Soon it was too late, the muscle pain surged throughout Sasha's body, increasing the minor nausea to rolling pain and sickness. Even if she changed her mind now it wouldn't matter, she'd be unable to keep the tea down. The remaining hours until sunrise would be a long one, and instead of a numb sleep, the prisoner would be plagued with vomiting and extreme pain, she could only hope she wouldn't butcher her voice by screaming all night.

"I'm here, just listen to my voice, talk to me if it helps distract you.."
 
Rather than a sip of bitter tea, Sasha launched forward and tried to bite at the tall creature again, coming within millimeters of her flesh. With a growl, she glared daggers at the other female who was acting as though Sasha was being unreasonable. Of course she was going to act like this! She had been ambushed, had her skin clawed and torn before getting knocked out, then had woken up naked and tied to a pillar! Then to top it all off, she was being forced to partake of some perverse ritual that was going to turn her into one of these...cat things, against her will. So she growled and thrashed, refusing to do anything other than be difficult, at least up until the first strike of pain lanced through her body.

Searing pain lit up the blacksmith's nerves as the salve began to take it's effect; somehow the putrid smelling cream managed to make her muscles feel as though they were burning and cramping at the same time. Stubborn as ever, Sasha refused to cry out, after all, the pain was no worse than the many times she had burned herself over the forge as a clumsy apprentice. For a little while her stubbornness was working, she had fallen to the ground and was trying to stretch and tense her muscles as much as the binding would allow her, effectively reducing the biting pain she felt...but once her stomach began to roll, it was all over. There wasn't much for the blacksmith to throw up, she hadn't eaten in quite awhile, and yet she still heaved and wretched into a little bucket that Chelle had brought her. Well at least I don't have to lay in my own vomit.

If the circumstances were different, Sasha would have been able to properly see that Chelle was a nice person, er, cat monster thing. The creature was trying her best to take care of her, even after Sasha had tried to bite her, even after the young blacksmith had cursed her and flat out refused this, Chelle was trying to make a horrible situation better by not leaving the poor scared smith there alone.

"Why would anyone choose this?" Sasha croaked, her voice hoarse from screaming and the bile that was eating away at her throat. "Why did you choose to stay here?
 
By the time the real pain and the vomiting began, Chelle had positioned the bucket in front of her, sitting next to the smithy, gently running her fingers through her hair and stroking her face, confident that her attempts to bite or struggle would be put on hold for the time being while the pain took much of her attention.

"Choose? Very few of us chose this. We had just as much of a say in becoming what we are as we did in being born, or as anyone does when they die." She lifted a hand to mop up the sweat at her brow, and clean her lips of the sick gently. "I was a merchant with my husband, picking mushrooms in the forest when we were ambushed, choice has nothing to do with it. Acceptance though, like birth and death comes with time."

She lifted the bucket up with one hand as the girl retched again, her other hand slipping to her back against the wooden post caressing gently, it was all she could do to soothe and comfort. Raelis was not so kind, remaining seated, bitter and agitated as the pain and vomiting took told, forced to retch through the tiny separations between the uneven wooden logs of the floor. If the smith had drank the tea, none of this would have been an issue, she would have passed out by now, and the rest of the transformation would be seamless through the night. Fur along the arms would be the first to make an appearance, always matching of the natural hair color, with the exception of blonde, which always turned white during the change.

"As for why I stayed...where else would I go? Did I ever mention I tried to escape several times? I was always stopped, but in the end I realized, what would I do if I had escaped? I would be regarded as a freak where I come from or captured and sold as a slave. Not to mention if others learned of our existence in this forest danger would come to everyone here...just shhh, breathe deep it will be over soon, the new sun will be a much easier day." She mopped her brow again after setting the bucket back down
 
Sasha closed her eyes as Chelle ran a cool hand over her sweaty brow. The young blacksmith couldn't figure out if the salve was giving her a fever or if all the muscles spasming in her body at once were exerting her to the point that she was sweating. Either way, she had never felt so sick and so awful in her entire life. Listening to Chelle's calming voice helped, a little bit anyways...perhaps because Sasha's mother used to always talk to her when she was sick when she had been very young.

The blacksmith was only half listening to the creature's words as she spoke. Dehydration was starting to set in, causing her to feel dizzy and pass out for moments, only to be woken up by the need to scream or vomit. She went through this cycle over and over again all night: passing out, then jolting awake to throw up or cry, only to pass out once again into bliss and start the process all over. Meanwhile, the blacksmith was beginning to grow taller, the muscles from her trade beginning to grow more pronounced, soft, brown fur was beginning to sprout over her arms, and she screamed as her tail began to sprout...only to pass out again when the pain and dizziness became too much.

---------------

Three dead...Akara, Persephone and Nahl. Three sisters who would never see their home again, who had left behind friends and mates... And now I am the one to deliver the news of their deaths... Lexa sighed softly at the thought. In her past life she had been a soldier; she knew war and she knew death, but she had no idea how to inform a civilian of either.

Lexa felt her burden grow heavier as she neared Naria's hut. Matriarch Khalla was busy making the funeral preparations for their fallen sisters and Lyssia was in no state to be delivering such somber news, the mere mention of the death of their sisters infuriated the warrior. So Lexa, who was the most level headed of the group of warriors, had been given the task to inform the mates and close lovers of those who had fallen. Telling Persephone and Nahl's lovers had been heartbreaking but bearable: both women had had multiple lovers who could offer comfort to each other as they grieved. But Akara's mate...Naria...the pair of them had been -mates-, actually bound to one another... Lexa feared that her comrade's mate would be destroyed by the news of her passing.

When the warrior came to the small hut that Naria and the late Akara inhabited, Lexa gave a soft rap at the door. When the caretaker opened it up, Lexa held out Akara's dagger in both hands, showing nothing but reverence for the dead as she offered the memento to Naria. Lexa had been careful to -only- clean it of blood, not wishing to remove too many traces of her comrade. "Naria...I am very sorry...." The tall Sapphisar pursed her lips slightly, unsure of what else to say. What would I want to hear if I were her...?

"Akara's death was quick...she did not suffer... We have lost three sisters, but have gained four new ones. I know that is of little consolation to you and I know that you loved Akara very much...but she did what was best for our tribe and died a warrior's death, there is no greater honor than to serve us as she had."
 
"Shhh it will all be over soon."

Cooed Chelle over the soft sobbing of the blacksmith who was looking far less human now. She felt for the girl who was slipping in and out of consciousness when she wasn't crying or retching. She could only imagine what the girl was thinking, having gone through a similar experience herself, remembering quite vividly that it felt like torture, worse than anything she had ever felt in her life, but she didn't have someone whispering gently in her ear, or wiping away her tears. The smithy's ears were shifting higher on her skull, growing outward and taking on a softer more catlike appearance. This, she recalled was the worst part, as it had felt like something was inside her skull forcibly shifting her ear canal with a pry bar. "Hush, hush! it's okay it's okay, you're almost done."

The brutality of the change was the reason for the inclusion of the heavily brewed herbal tea, as a means to further civilize the entire process, but unfortunately the tea was the one aspect of the ritual that could not be controlled. The Salve could easily be applied if the captive was willing or not, but to be fully effective the tea had to be drank all at once, many are quick to realize their mistake of rejecting the tea but it is far too late by this point. Raelis had mocked Chelle all night for her poor decision, but Chelle would not do this. It was important that the smithy saw her as an ally, perhaps if she trusted Raelis more she would have integrated into the tribe more quickly than she had.

The twisting of the ears was enough to send the girl over the edge, her body limp and head drooping. Grateful for the moment of peace, she too fell asleep for a few moments, head resting against the girls shoulder. Her respite was abruptly ended by the sound of another stepping into the old hut carrying a large tray made of bark, the smell of food wafting from it. "Hnn...morning already?" She groaned, lifting her heavy lids to look up toward the tall guard as the tray was set down upon the table.

"Just about." Said the dark furred woman. "Sun is just cresting over the mountain, breakfast for the both of you."

"Nnn...ah! The others, did it go well?"

"Yours is the only one who didn't drink the bitter tea..." The guard paused as if noticing Chelle looking defeated. "That doesn't mean they'll be more cooperative today. Do what you can. Tonights feast will be the biggest we've had in some time, four new sisters to welcome, and three others to send off into the sky."

Chelle nodded slowly before rising to her feet, picking up the sick bucket, handing it to the guard to take away, along with the poultice bowl, so the smells could be replaced by the fresh breakfast. "Oh! Tell Bellesandre we'll need a forge, this one's a smithy, we may be able to finally start crafting our own weapons and armor. There's that cavern on the north face of grove mountain that I'm certain has ore in it, perhaps she can identify it too." Chelle tanned furs and skins brought in from the hunters, often fashioning clothes, light armor or blankets. Having a smith meant they could correspond. Once the guard left, Chelle, feeling drained, lifted the table and set it closer to where the girl was bound, positioning the chair in front of her, so she could sit more comfortably when feeding her. Food was incredibly important after the change was over with, the body would be exhausted, using all reserves as it shifted and reinvented itself.

The large tray was full of many things to reinvigorate both the newly changed and the sapphress after a restless night. Two tall clay cups full of fresh squeezed juice. A new waterskin, this was filled with springwater, something the smithy would desperately need after a night filled with vomiting. Two lightly cooked golden yolked swan eggs were nestled between a pile of fresh fruit, roasted mushrooms and dried fish.

Carefully, she picked up one of the tall clay cups which was full of the fresh nectar, squeezed from the plump tree fruits in the forest, and held it under the girls nose.

"It's time to wake up Ferra."

--------------------------------------------------------------


Naria held the candle into the fire pit, lighting it quickly before setting it with the others upon thin shelves lining the walls, illuminating the small hut now that night had fallen. This structure was far newer and much more adequately constructed than those used for the ritual outside of the grove, especially with being a much more recent addition. The wooden floor was built upon a foundation of clay and stone. A large stone fire pit, built up from the foundation sat in the center. On one side of the pit, closer to the door was a small table with two chairs, set with some clay dishes, and on the other, against the wall was a very large thick pile of furs, with a large indentation in the center where someone regularly slept.

Today had been her final day caring for Naga, Tael and Natai, all of whom were between the age of four and five hundred. Now she got to enjoy the next moon cycle in relaxation as she traded off with another caretaker. Better yet, her off time was similar to that of Akara's who would be coming home from the outskirts in the next day or two for guard rotation. Thirty days and moons with out her lover was always painful, but it made the thirty they got to spend together all the more worth it.

When the door sounded, Naria blinked her bright green eyes curiously. She first thought of Akara, perhaps returning home earlier than expected, but she would not have knocked. Tail swishing back and fourth behind her, she moved to the door, pulling it open slowly. Naria was shorter than most of the Sapphisari, standing at about 5'10, and was incredibly thin, with pristine white fur, adorned with thin black strips. She wore no clothes, like many who had been with the tribe longer, especially during the warmer season.

"Lexa? Is Akara back aswel-" She paused abruptly, looking down to the dagger in her hand, and for a moment her entire world shattered to oblivion. Naria had only been Sapphisari for two seasons before acting as Sapphress to Akara. They bonded quickly, quicker than most did when newly integrating into the tribe and had been devoted lovers for the next thirteen years.

The crackle of the fire behind her drowned out all other sounds. it was all she could hear. Lexa's condolences may not have been said at all.

"Lost...three" She whispered, green eyes staring up into Lexa's, but she may have been looking through her. "Four new sisters..t-that's good...that's good." She repeated, attempting to focus on these words. Four new sisters was extraordinary, something wonderful that needed to be celebrated. Even when one had been lost, it was the birth of new sisters that remained the focus, it had to be, otherwise disdain for the new would be too great as it was often not uncommon for the deaths and the fresh arrivals to be very closely related. Had one of the new sisters been the one to do it? To kill her Akara? No. No, she couldn't think that way.

"Thank you Lexa." She spoke rigidly, taking the dagger form her hands, turning from her to set it upon the table carefully. Slowly she lifted her eyes over the firepit toward the bed of furs, where the pair would often lay together, nestled closely entwined, peaceful, warm and happy, where they were supposed to be again soon, after so long apart...and now...never again....

She collapsed to her knees, gasping, trying to breath, trying to make any sound at all, but nothing came, she felt so hopelessly alone and helpless, her insides twisting like she was suffocating.
 
The identity of Akara's killer would be a secret that Lexa would take to her pyre. While it may provide the other female closure to know that the blacksmith girl was young and couldn't have been more than 18 summers, that she had drawn her sword in fear and had killed their sister in her clumsiness rather than malice...Lexa could not divulge such information. She didn't think that Naria had it in her to hurt a fly if she knew who the killer had been, but she didn't want the caretaker to be filled with sadness every time she laid eyes upon their new sister either.

"Naria..." Lexa sighed, her ears drooping in sadness as she watched the despair in the caretaker's eyes. This is why she never wanted a mate: this heartbreak that she could see the other Sapphress experiencing. She had always called Akara mad for wanting to bond with someone...there were many threats to the warriors: humans, the weather, wild animals. But, well, Akara had been in love and had wanted nothing more than to be with Naria and only Naria.

"I am sorry I do not have any better ne- Naria!" Lexa rushed over to the other female when she collapsed to her knees, her strong arms enveloping the caretaker protectively. It was a bit awkward at first; Lexa still wore her leathers, still smelled of the wilds, sweat, and battle...and was nearly a head taller than the small caretaker and much broader and more muscular. It took a little adjustment, but eventually she managed a comforting embrace for the grieving widow. "Shhh...shhh...just breath." Lexa ran a calloused hand over the other female's bare back, trying to soothe her. "I do not know what it is like to lose a mate, but I do know what it is like to lose friend. I am sorry you have to go through this Naria, but remember, you do not have to go through it alone. I am here for you, the tribe is here for you, and Akara's spirit is still here for you, watching over you from the sky."

After a long silence and a deep thought, Lexa spoke up again, . "Naria...I pledge myself to you, if you will have me. Whenever my services to the tribe are not needed, I will be at your disposal instead. Akara was my mentor, she taught me how to use this new body, taught me how to survive in the wilds...the least I can do to honor her memory is to protect her mate from sadness. I know it is not the same as having her here with you, but, I will stay by your side if you wish it, I will help you care for your hut, and I will keep your furs warm at night. And I will do this until you release me."
 
It couldn't be true, it just couldn't, but Lexa wouldn't lie. Why, why was this happening? She couldn't breathe, and every gasp of air she attempted to suck in, only caused her to sputter more helplessly as tears streamed down her cheeks along her fur. For a fleeting moment nothing seemed more appealing to her than hurling herself into her own fire pit in order to end this surge of misery and suffocation, until the strong arms of Lexa wrapped tightly around her. Her first thought was to wrestle herself away, but the strong arms and rough hands along her back seemed to free her lungs, allowing her to breathe again as her sputtering gasps for air turned into uncontrolled sobs, her body shifting inward, against the larger sapphisari, burying her face into her neck.

There were many within the tribe who devoted themselves to one mate, just as there were polyamorous groups, or individuals like Lexa who preferred to share a bed with whomever and whenever she pleased, and none of these lifestyles were frowned upon here, even if the latter was something Naria didn't understand.

Breathing deep, Naria noticed Lexa's scent was similar to Akara's, the sweat and musk permeating her fur from running, fighting and training along with familiar fragrance of the worn leathers was deeply comforting, reminding her of her now deceased lover, but there was something foreign about it all, not just that there was a different smell to Lexa, but that she smelled of others as well. Lexa's pledge was meaningful, but did really understand what it was to have a deep bond with one person? Or was this a ploy to bed one more, and not just anyone but the mate of her mentor? She shook the thought away. Negative thoughts were plaguing her no matter how much she tried to focus on the love of Akara and the good 4 new sisters brought to the tribe, she felt hopelessly lost.

"Please...hold me. Don't let go." She pleaded weakly between sobs, her thin arms wrapping around the broader woman tightly as if letting go would cause her to plummet endlessly into a void of nothing.
 
Lexa was the type of person to find comfort in structure, duty, and honor. Her parents were both farmers, honest, hard working people. Her father was a veteran of the last great war and so once Lexa's aptitude with a blade, her power, and her size were noted by some of his military friends, she had been sent away and trained as a personal guard for a nobleman's daughter...a task that she had seen as little more than a step above handmaiden and somewhere slightly below nanny. The job had paid nicely though, she had sent a lot of money back home to her family...even though watching over a brat who constantly got into trouble had nearly been the death of her. She had only spent a year as a guard dog for a spoiled noblegirl before the conflict between Berges and Trinil broke out and once it had, she had immediately enlisted in the military. Military life was good for Lexa; providing her the structure she craved as well as a sense of personal fulfillment because she was serving her country. When her squad had been captured on a scouting mission, her patriotism made her assimilation into the Sapphisari difficult. But after a few months here, with Akara as her mentor, she saw the bigger picture. She saw the care the creatures had for one another, the peace they lived in...it wasn't perfect all the time, nothing ever is, but it was a lot better than the human world. And it was just a relief to be around women all the time...men had constantly tried to force themselves on her during long marches, some had succeeded...she couldn't say that she missed that old life much.

The soldier had spent her human life swearing allegiance to her country and serving it, and as a Sapphress, she had sworn to protect her tribe and serve it, now, as just a woman indebted to her mentor, she would swear to give comfort to Akara's widow for as long as she needed it. Lexa didn't view such a pledge as a burden. Of course she knew that she would not be able to come and go as she pleased anymore, but perhaps that would be a good thing. She often felt empty when she was off duty, as though she had no purpose...hopefully helping Naria grieve would make her feel less listless until the new moon when she would go back to the forest.

"As you wish." Lexa's voice took on the tone of a soldier receiving an order; Akara used to pick on her when she said such things like, 'Yes ma'am', or, 'As you command.' While Naria had not given her an order, merely a request to not let go of her, the guard was reverting back into the habits of her old life in order to make this tense situation more comfortable for herself.

When she started to feel the other female begin to lean more heavily in her arms and heard her sobs become a little more hushed, Lexa nuzzled at softly. "Naria..." She kept her voice low, knowing that the caretaker must be getting tired, "Come, let me put you to bed. It's late."
 
She barely knew Lexa, only in passing or during large feasts had they spoke, or from stories Akara had told her while they cuddled by the fire and now here she was comforting her over her loss. Akara on the other hand, she knew everything about, she was there from her first moments within this forest, she even saw her as a human, oversaw the ritual that made her sapphisari and despite the taboo learned a considerable amount about her past. They had been inseparable since the beginning.

Naria was only seventeen summers old when she was turned into a sapphisar and had been a personal whore and slave to a high lord, sold to him by her family when she was young. The lord had ran afoul of some mercenaries after deciding not to pay them for a job, and when they ambushed his carriage on the road he had his driver take them into forest, believing the stories of disappearances would force the mercs to cease their pursuit. They did, but not long after the carriage was ambushed by the natives. Joining the Sapphisari, Naria was able to make something of her life, learning to care for the sick and the elderly, becoming a respected individual rather than just property. Akara had been captured when chasing a slaver into the forest, having grown up a slave herself but was freed at a young age and taught herself how to fight, making it her goal to kill as many slavers as she could. She was initially quite defiant upon capture but was able to relate to Naria when she shared her past, and finally agreed join the tribe peacefully if she was allowed to execute the slaver herself, the rest is history.

The caregiver held on tightly to Lexa for several moments as she sobbed, finally nodding weakly to the suggestion to be brought to her bed. Shakily she got up, but allowed herself to mostly be carried by the significantly stronger woman until she was set down into the large bed of furs. Her arms remained firmly around her neck, refusing to let go. She couldn't, wouldn't be alone, not tonight. nights without Akara sharing her bed were often torture even when she was alive, but this was something entirely different.

Needily, she pulled Lexa into the bed with her, using all of her weight. Her sobbing was much more controlled now, less manic than it had been when she collasped. Soft hushed whimpers continued to escape her throat as she nuzzled the warrior's shoulder, wrapping one leg around her, her tail coiling around Lexa's before dragging her tongue along her neck.

Coping with the loss of a lover as a Human was different than a Sapphisari. Where a human often took a considerable time moving on to another if they did at all and taking another lover too soon was considered disrespectful, the Sapphisari were such affectionate creatures that moving onto another immediately after the loss of their mate was not only instinctual dating back to their days as more feral creatures, but a respected form of grieving in the common day, even if it seemed a little off character for Naria due to her sole devotion to Akara.
 
When Lexa felt the other female nodding against her neck, she carefully began to stand, making sure to keep her arms around Naria so that she could help her up. It amazed her how light the caretaker was, how so very unlike she was to all the other women Lexa usually held. The soldier tended to share her furs with the other guards and the hunters; people who were like her and knew the wilds, people who were strong and well suited to live for days without civilization. Naria was different: she smelled of healing herbs instead of campfires and the woods, her touch was gentle and not roughened up by calloused hands, she was soft and feminine instead of built of hard muscle...it was all so alien to Lexa. Naria did manage to surprise her with a very determined latch to her neck though, "I will not leave you, just let me remove my leathers...." Lexa cooed soothingly, but Naria did not allow her to remove her clothing, instead, the other female tugged her into bed with all of her weight.

After the other female had tangled herself up in Lexa and gotten comfortable, the guard began to unbuckle her armor with one hand. She made sure to keep one strong arm draped around Naria to give her a feeling of safety and companionship as her other hand worked to strip herself. The leather was light and comfortable (comfortable in comparison to Lexa's old armor which had been plate and chainmail), but sometimes the fastenings could dig into her flesh, especially if she were laying down like this. Plus she didn't want to get the bed dirty; the leathers were a bit of a mess from being worn in the forest for the last thirty days, she maintained them when she was out in the field but they could still use a proper cleaning now that she was back in town. Such a task would have to wait until tomorrow though, so she tossed her jerkin and her kilt to the floor.

While some Sapphisari were comfortable in their nudity, Lexa was not. The guard wasn't shy of her body, her brown and black striped fur did a good job of covering most of her battlescars; there was part of one that could be seen on the left side of her tanned stomach, but other than that, her skin did not appear overly marred. It was just...she felt naked, well, vulnerable really, whenever she was out of her armor. The soldier didn't like that feeling; often wearing some sort of clothing to bed. Even when it was hot in the summer, Lexa would cover herself in something light. Tonight she wouldn't be wearing anything though, she would let Naria press snugly against her, skin to skin and fur to fur. She in turn would hold the small female protectively and once the caretaker began to show affection, once she started to lick and nuzzle at Lexa's throat, the guard began to show care in return. While Naria stayed buried in her neck, she moved to the girl's ear, very delicately nibbling the sensitive tip of it as she whispered soothing words. "It will be okay... I know your heart aches, but Akara would never want to see you this sad... Do not cry yourself to sleep tonight...just take a deep breath and relax..."
 
Naria whimpered but shifted slightly to allow for Lexa to remove her leathers, her refusal to pull her arms away from her neck, or pull away even for a moment likely made it difficult. Her rough tongue dragged once more against the side of her neck, while a dainty hand slid along her hard, newly exposed stomach, and along her chest, before pressing her lithe body up against lexa's nude form.

Lexa's broader and thicker muscles were quite the contrast to Akara's leaner muscled form, which only served as a further reminder that the woman she was sharing her bed with was not her lover. As lexa nipped and nibbled upon her ear gently, she purred low, melting against her body, both hands caressing along her exposed flesh, along her back. For the moment they were inseperable, most likely taking the might of the entire tribe to pry the small grieving woman off of the warrior, but her sobbing had finally slowed to a stop and her tears were dry, replaced by slower, steadied breaths. Continuing her nipping and licking of Lexa's neck and jawline, her ear twitching and flicking to her gentle nips, but making an effort not to pull away silently wishing for her to continue.

While she was grateful for Lexa's presence and her honorable pledge to remain at her side for the time being, deep down she worried if she'd ever be able to give her up after this. Naria was a quiet, reserved woman, who was much happier cuddling with her mate by the fire than being in groups or taking part in larger festivities. For Akara and her it was nearly love at first sight and she couldn't imagine finding that kind of connection with another ever again.

As she lay there nestled comfortably in her strong arms, she wrestled with the idea of speaking. On one hand she craved the feeling of being held and consoled in silence, their naked bodies pressed near seamlessly together by the warm fire, and that would be enough to get her through the night, and the following nights if Lexa kept her word. On the other hand she feared that eventually the honorable warrior would move on once she believed she had done all she could to comfort the grieving widow of her mentor, and so she was desperate to make a connection. There was so little she knew of this woman, her preferences, desires and her past. Naria knew better than to ask her about her past, at least for now. Some took the taboo far more seriously than others, even she, outside of Akara refused to speak of her own or anyone elses human life. A lover seemed to be the exception atleast in her mind, but she knew not where Lexa stood on that philosphy.

"Do you find me desirable?" She whispered quietly as she nuzzled the side of her neck, deciding to speak after all, beginning with the most basic questions into her desires. There was no sense in even entertaining the possibility courting Lexa if her actions were entirely centered on honor and not attraction.
 
As Naria's sobs dwindled down to soft whimpers and finally to steady breathing, the guard let out a deep breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. With the grieving widow finally settled, the warrior could now let herself calm down as well. Lexa wasn't the best person when it came to consoling...in fact the less she had to do with any sort of feelings at all, the better. Underneath the calm guise of her duty and honor was a storm of emotions: Lexa was nervous because she had never pledged her services to a single person before, she was afraid because she didn't want to insult Akara's memory by improperly comforting her mate, and she was, and she was upset because she too had lost someone close to her and was in the process of grieving as well.

There were many things Lexa would need to do...like figure out what to talk to a civilian about; but, for now, it was nice to just take the fact that Naria was no longer crying as a small victory and call it a day. The warrior was tired, mentally and physically, so stopped nibbling and nuzzling at Naria's ear and temple, now resting her head down on the furs. Her chin rested atop the other female's head as they snuggled and she shut her dark eyes, adjusting herself just the tiniest bit in order to get properly comfortable. She did not go so far as to allow herself to doze off, not just yet. Her ears were focused on her quiet companion, listening to the other female's breathing and waiting for it to change and signal that she had fallen asleep...but such a change never game, after a few moments of comfortable silence, Naria spoke up to ask her a question.

"Of course you are desirable. You are very beautiful, many in the tribe have said as much." Lexa was quiet for a moment as she pondered the silliness of Naria's question. The caretaker was desired by many people, that was a fact, so why would she ask such a thing? Perhaps it is because she is so different from the women who usually warm your furs. It was no secret that Lexa had a preference, while she wouldn't deny any of her sapphisari sisters who showed interest in her, she wouldn't make the personal effort to go out of her way to share a bed with anyone other than the warriors and hunters of the tribe. "I admit you are...different...than what I am used to. I usually share my bed with other warriors...and while I suppose while a few of the scouts are small in stature as you are, your body is just... soft... different... Not a bad sort of different... I just...I guess the easiest way to put it is that I am afraid I am going to break you." Lexa frowned as she plodded on, trying to put such a complex mixture of feelings into words that would not offend Naria. "For example...right now, I worry that my arm is too heavy to drape over you, I bear some of its weight so that I am certain you are comfortable. I would not do that with another warrior."
 
Naria had known of Lexa's preferences for the warriors and hunters, knowing she did not fall into this type she had been concerned that she may have no physical attraction to her. She appreciated the womans sincerity and found her fear of injuring her to be quite cute, which for a moment eased her grief. She buried her face against her neck affectionately, squeezing her tighter in their embrace. "I'm not so frail that I would break, there is no need to show such restraint."

The truth was she enjoyed being held by strong arms, and the feel of the hard body against her. It made her feel safe. Infact their vast size difference intrigued her to a certain extent. She hadn't put too much thought into it thus far as it was difficult not to think of anything but Akara, but out of anyone within the tribe to be consoling her in this terrible time, she was glad it was Lexa.

It was late and Lexa seemed tired, they were both suffering from loss, plus she had mentioned three died this night. So who were the other two? She hadn't said but regardless the losses likely hurt. She sighed softly, shifting slightly against Lexa's body, before lifting her head to kiss her upon the cheek. "Who were the others? you were close to them too, yes?" Her ears flattened as she braced herself for the names. Part of her knew she should just try and sleep and quietly appreciate lexa's company, but she couldn't sleep. Talking seemed to be the only thing that helped distract her.
 
"I do not think you are frail...I just think you are small." Lexa huffed, making a face that was the closest thing to a pout that anyone would ever see the serious soldier do. I guess if she is certain I will not squish her... The guard released the tension she had been holding in her muscular arm, letting the full weight of it rest over the petite caretaker. Slighter women tended to find her weight to be a little overbearing...Lexa's muscles made her heavy, coupled with the fact that her body put out nearly as much heat as a fireplace, her closeness could seem downright stifling. But if Naria took comfort from the extra weight rather than felt suffocated by it, Lexa would be happy to oblige her request for a little less restraint.

"Persephone and Nahl..." Lexa's ears drooped, her entire body seeming to sink as she spoke the names. She did not cry even as sadness enveloped her heart, having been taught that grief was a selfish emotion. Warriors should not dishonor the memories of their brave comrades with tears...at least that was what she had been taught as a human. It was a harsh sentiment, and one that Lexa had not outgrown in her five years of service to the tribe. There had been a few deaths since she had come to the tribe and while everyone else grieved in a manner that was similar to Naria's, Lexa could not bring herself to show such vulnerability.

"Matriarch Khalla often had me assigned to the same group as them. We worked well together..." Lexa was silent for a moment, lost in her own thoughts, before finally piping up again. "There were 58 humans against the six of us.... Mercenaries, probably...they had no banners for any kingdom. Persephone, Nahl, and Akara fought so bravely against them..." Lexa sighed softly. "It is difficult to be alive when your comrades have fallen. I should have died, not Akara. Persephone and Nahl were both lovers, not mates but very close...it is good that their spirits can be together now. But Akara...Akara had responsibilities outside of her duties as a warrior. I do not know why the Gods have spared me and called to her instead."
 
Naria was surprised to discover that Lexa had been holding up a lot of her weight, but did not complain. She merely nestled in closer, a deep content purr emanating form her chest and throat. She felt immensely safe and warm, as if being deep in Lexa's embrace protected her from all of the troubles and dangers in the world, including emotions such as grief, no matter how deep the wound that had been left by Akara's demise, she was so grateful that the warrior had come and stayed with her.

Upon hearing the names of the other two spoken, she blinked away fresh tears, but all new signs of sadness were concealed by being buried against the larger woman. In a tribe consisting of just over two hundred it was not difficult to know everyone, at least in name. Even those who avoided the larger tribal feasts and celebrations were still known because their absence was still felt. The ones who did this were almost always warriors who served on the border lookouts, a tiny grouping of buildings built high up into the trees on either end of the forest. There were some who often chose to stay out there even when it was time to swap out groups for rest in the following moon cycle. Preferring the solitude and the bond with their fellow warriors.

Naria's ears remained flat against her head as she listened to Lexa blame herself. "No...please, don't say that." This was something she had heard before, from Akara, when other sisters had been lost in protecting the grove from outsiders. She was never out there, she didn't know what it was like, but she still remembered when she was captured the high lord who held her in servitude had managed to kill one. Even though she wasn't personally responsible she felt the guilt for that death for every year she lived happily among the sapphisari, so she could only imagine what that kind of guilt was like for those who had caused deaths before they themselves became sisters., which was why assigning blame of any kind during tragedies like these was so dangerous, something she often said to calm Akara and now just as Lexa had come to console her she would repeat this advice, strangely in the face of Akara's own death.

"Just think of the weight those three deaths will have on our four new sisters, it's not fair for you to blame yourself or say you should have died, just as it isn't fair for any of us to accuse them. They don't know any better but they will in time and it will hurt them." It was funny how she had gone from barely able to breath over the loss to repeating this philosophy, especially when she wanted to blame who ever it was who took Akara from her, she wanted to know, she wanted them to suffer, but these were human emotions and they had no place here, she knew that.

"My birth into the tribe coincided with a death." She paused still uncertain how Lexa would react, as some were incredibly adamant about the taboo. "I may not have been the one with the knife but I still feel the weight of it every day, just as our new sisters will. No one, not them, and certainly not you should feel responsible"

If anyone should, it should be Khalla who pitted 6 sapphisari against 58 humans. She thought to herself bitterly, struggling to fight back the onslaught of fresh tears by beginning to kiss and lick Lexa's neck once more.
 
If only I had been a little quicker, a little faster...perhaps they would not be dead... The thoughts were normal ones for a warrior to have although they were not healthy ones. Lexa had done her best as she always did...but still, part of her wondered what if she had been just a second faster, what if she could have rushed forward and been the one to fight the blacksmith, or what if she had been the one to trade blows with the sword wielding mercenaries. Her sisters were better archers and trappers than they were hand to hand fighters; it was rare to find a female like her wandering the forest, someone who had been specifically trained by the military and proficient in a variety of weapons. Lexa had shared all of her knowledge with the tribe just as all new sisters did, but many of her skills did not fit well with a tribe that only sported a few handfuls of warriors who rarely even saw combat with anything other than wolves or bears.

Naria's words helped alleviate some of her guilt. Deep down she knew that there was nothing she could have done, that the odds had been against them from the start. Even after they had killed 20 with their arrows, they had still been outnumbered 6 to 1...the fact that any of them were alive to tell was a miracle in itself. "I know that the humans were scared, that they did not know they were trespassing in the first place...and I know that our new sisters will feel the weight of the sacrifice of our departed ones...I just wish all could have been saved."

Lexa's ears perked a bit as Naria spoke about her past. The warrior knew that it was taboo to speak of such things...but she also knew that people who blindly followed were susceptible of doing terrible things. Many soldiers did brutal, awful things because they questioned nothing...Lexa could never bring herself to be so blind, not after how she had seen some captured warriors tortured for, 'the good of our country'. Information had been taken from them and instead of giving them a swift, merciful death, they had been tortured.... That was what blind trust wrought, and she would not be so foolish as to go down the same path. While she did not voice her disagreement about the taboo because she knew it served a specific purpose, she couldn't help but silently question if there could be a better way.

"Thank you for your kind words Naria..." Lexa managed a sad smile before she started to nuzzle the top of the other female's head, trying to focus on something pleasant after all the pain she had had to deal with today. "Let us speak of something else, so we may both sleep without heavy hearts..." Lexa racked her brain, trying to think of something a little more lighthearted. Tomorrow they would have the funerals...but afterwards they would have a big feast to celebrate the lives of those lost and to welcome their new sisters. The festival should surely cheer them both up, provided the quiet caretaker would attend it with her. "Will you accompany me to the festival tomorrow? I will stay by your side should you choose to grieve in this hut further. But...perhaps some dancing and music will cheer us both up..." And it would hopefully be a good way to see if there was any chemistry between them. Right now they needed each other for comfort in this time of mourning, Lexa hoped that they could build a bond of friendship underneath that need.
 
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