Post by Malinda on Oct 29, 2015 21:09:28 GMT -8
Nivet pushed his camel harder. Now that they were out of earshot of the camp, he wasn't afraid of alerting the sentries. He knew this land, desolate as it was, through and through, having made the journey several times over the course of his life, twenty years in the making. Laughing out loud, he taunted his prey as he began to close the distance. Then, pulling the veil up over his nose and mouth, he rode into the dust kicked up by the mount of the girl he pursued.
Cyrila spared a glance back over her shoulder, grinning with delight at his renewed speed. Perhaps she ought to let him catch her soon, but she was thoroughly enjoying this part of the chase. She urged her own camel on, the beast protesting loudly but increasing its speed as she wished. Like Nivet, she was twenty years of age, and glad to be away from the tribe for the evening. There were so many rules and laws to follow for such a small band of traders, and Nivet's father didn't have the means to buy her for his son. But she liked him, enjoyed his company, and wanted more than the tribe had to give her, and tonight was to be the night that she let Nivet stake his own claim to her, and the traditions be damned.
She glanced back again, and to her dismay, Nivet was right on her tail, already reaching out a tanned hand to grip the colorful saddle blanket she rode upon, amusement and triumph in his dark eyes. She smiled as well, turning ahead once more, and steered toward a rocky outcropping jutting out of the sand before them. Seems as nice a place as any, she thought, as she felt her camel begin to slow. Nivet had captured his prize, it would seem, and though their speed faltered and eventually stopped altogether, her heart was still pounding with excitement, both at the race across the desert and at what was yet to come.
Nivet dismounted first, then moved to her side, and she laughed as he reached up and removed her from the camel's back with his strong hands and arms.
"This way," she said, gripping one of his hands in hers and leading him toward the mouth of a cave, cool and inviting, with a blanket of smooth, silky sand upon its floor. Nivet followed eagerly, his mind clouded by thoughts of what was still to discover this evening.
They both stopped at the mouth of the cave, and peered inside for a moment, slowly weaving themselves into a familiar embrace. There was a long tunnel which descended into darkness below, and both had the same thought that they would have to explore it when the caravan passed this location in a few days' time. Nivet began to place kisses atop Cyrila's head, and she responded by pressing her body full against his, all resistance that she had been showing earlier gone. Things never got a chance to go any farther.
A sound not unlike the venting of steam from a broken pipe was followed by a stream of thick liquid originating from down in that tunnel. Neither had the chance to even register the frightened shock before their coated bodies began to burn. Both of their screams were cut immensely short while their bodies began to melt and fuse together only to melt apart again. There they died, frightened, confused, and in pain, but together, in each other's embrace.
Cyrila spared a glance back over her shoulder, grinning with delight at his renewed speed. Perhaps she ought to let him catch her soon, but she was thoroughly enjoying this part of the chase. She urged her own camel on, the beast protesting loudly but increasing its speed as she wished. Like Nivet, she was twenty years of age, and glad to be away from the tribe for the evening. There were so many rules and laws to follow for such a small band of traders, and Nivet's father didn't have the means to buy her for his son. But she liked him, enjoyed his company, and wanted more than the tribe had to give her, and tonight was to be the night that she let Nivet stake his own claim to her, and the traditions be damned.
She glanced back again, and to her dismay, Nivet was right on her tail, already reaching out a tanned hand to grip the colorful saddle blanket she rode upon, amusement and triumph in his dark eyes. She smiled as well, turning ahead once more, and steered toward a rocky outcropping jutting out of the sand before them. Seems as nice a place as any, she thought, as she felt her camel begin to slow. Nivet had captured his prize, it would seem, and though their speed faltered and eventually stopped altogether, her heart was still pounding with excitement, both at the race across the desert and at what was yet to come.
Nivet dismounted first, then moved to her side, and she laughed as he reached up and removed her from the camel's back with his strong hands and arms.
"This way," she said, gripping one of his hands in hers and leading him toward the mouth of a cave, cool and inviting, with a blanket of smooth, silky sand upon its floor. Nivet followed eagerly, his mind clouded by thoughts of what was still to discover this evening.
They both stopped at the mouth of the cave, and peered inside for a moment, slowly weaving themselves into a familiar embrace. There was a long tunnel which descended into darkness below, and both had the same thought that they would have to explore it when the caravan passed this location in a few days' time. Nivet began to place kisses atop Cyrila's head, and she responded by pressing her body full against his, all resistance that she had been showing earlier gone. Things never got a chance to go any farther.
A sound not unlike the venting of steam from a broken pipe was followed by a stream of thick liquid originating from down in that tunnel. Neither had the chance to even register the frightened shock before their coated bodies began to burn. Both of their screams were cut immensely short while their bodies began to melt and fuse together only to melt apart again. There they died, frightened, confused, and in pain, but together, in each other's embrace.
