I was bored. Bored Bored Bored Bored. I was in the wagon alone, and in being in the wagon alone I knew I could walk over and touch the top of a chest ahead of me. To the right, I could touch the edge of His sleeping couch. I would jump up and down 15 times before the weight of the shackle seemed to rub against my ankle and I started to feel a bit strange doing this naked. One learns what bits and pieces move with no clothing on. There were lots of things I could touch, but I didn't. I wasn't sure what the touching rule was. Well touching His stuff. As I sat and looked over my body for a bit, I wondered if I would be considered...His stuff too? In that case, I was naughty, I was touching. I was touching my toes, my ankles, feeling the thickness, coolness, and strong hold of the shackle. I was touching my knees, thighs and hips. I had no desire to touch that private personal spot cause, well..it wasn't fascinating me as much as my body as a whole was. I guess I never really noticed, I sure do have a lot of spots. Freckles were just all over me like someone flicking a paint brush around with no real creative eye other then to just speckle the canvas that would be my flesh. If I had something to mark with, I would enjoy melting the ahn's away with connecting the dots. I wondered if I could make pictures like ones we tried to form out of stars. This amused me to no end, I almost forgot how bored I was. Sadly it was short lived, when I looked around once more and settled my eyes against the door. I was afraid to walk towards it. Fingers fluttered the taunt feel of my stomach as it was tightening a bit cause I was starving.
So now I had an adventure of not thinking about food. I would instead, find something to keep me busy. Really the only thing I found to do that I thought was a slight bit safe was...adjust the fur carpeting. I would pull the edges flat, comb my fingers through it, and start to layer them from darker hues on top to lighter shades towards the less traffic area's. Or the area's I assumed might be less traffic. There was a fresh breeze coming in as the flap was tied back just a bit, I am assuming to air out the wagon. I closed my eyes and breathed in all it had to offer me. Right now it was offering this buttery wonderful roasting aroma of vulo's. I felt my mouth water at an instant dream of its succulent white meat melting against my tongue. Leaning back against the half wall of the wagon I pulled my blanket around me. I pondered a nap, I could dream of eating right? Of the long rows of tables of the great hall. People sitting ready to eat with markers of bowls of salt upon each surface. I would smile looking down at the rest as I would sit at the main table with my family, and have trays of meats, fruits and cheeses with bread offered to me. Life was good.
I heard steps, motions when I would open my eyes and see the pretty dark haired girl walk in. I honestly was thankful to see a face! She brought me a small bowl of water, and the first thing I started to do when I got it, was wash up. I felt more grubby then I felt thirsty. Being chained had its drawbacks but I was very anal about cleanliness. I blushed a bit, when she went to get the basin for something a bit more suitable for washing up. We talked a bit, I asked for a rep cloth, she got me one, need a bit of cloth to scrub off the dirty parts, or the parts that felt dirty. Scrubbing made the skin a bit pink under freckles but it was so refreshing. Funny thing happened, as I was washing up, and talking...I had a back of the mind thought of Him. A bit of olive oil with ginger, men of the North seemed to like it, it would absorb into the skin and not smell like a woman, it would be a pleasing, soothing scent, and it would make tight skin soft and itch less. The men used it on scars caused by chunks of flesh sewn together after a piece has been removed from an axe. I figured it would be the same tightness feeling as He spoke of mentioning His scars. Perhaps...I shall look into it once I'm out of lock down. I thought of little things just swirling around in my head. Weird. Perhaps it was her..who did it. She gave a feel of happiness. I could feel its tingle as she spoke and moved around. The dreamy look in her eyes that caused them to glow when she spoke of Him. I wanted that feeling. She thought I was some girl named Pink, I guess that belongs to Him also. I asked her if He had some color thing happening? Pink..now Red. I thought in the back of my mind..what color would she be? Catch, her name is Catch. Now I can stop lifting my hands up every time I hear it. Its not the name she was born with, but its the one He gave her. Like He dubbed me, simply...Red. I think I would call her Yellow, like Lar Torvis's rays painting over the rich hues of yellow Talendar. Yes, that would be perfect for her. Big Red would have liked her a lot. They could have sat around and talked about fuzzy happy la la love shit. I could hear my sister now...Vivica, keep using those foul words and I will tell Father you used his prize dagger collection to make spike steps to ladder up the tree...She could so be no fun, but me and Von had a blast! We spent all afternoon hammering in those daggers tight into the base of the tree like a spiral stair case around the trunk so we could use the tips of our toes to climb the handles to the top branches. They were great daggers too, not one blade broke. Of course Father found out, cause we did such a good job of putting them in, they wouldn't budge to be removed..... Father chased the both of us with a switch until we ran to hide in the bosk herd. He never took the daggers out though. She was moving in and out checking on food and speaking with me. My mind would wander in the breaks of our conversation.
She thought I was special cause I got no real choices, I thought she was because she did. Funny how different we both see things. She had a chance to return home, I didn't see it in my future anymore. So much praise she gave Him. Calling Him the Brave Warrior Fonce, though I doubt she would say that to Him, He was Master to us. In a way, it was nice to hear it. It was like a friend speaking to a friend. I will pretend that is the case. Made me miss Ingrid. Though she submitted to my Brother out of love, and was now a slave, me and her would still talk to secrets of our heart. She said....the chain would reach outside the entrance. I could have kicked myself! If I had known that I would have been sitting outside! Gathering the blanket around me, I did just that, walked out and sat near the edge of the frame holding the leather flap of doorway. I watched her cook, she brought me food which was beyond delicious. I was about to tell her about my sister..when she had chores to finish and said she would return.
I wanted to go with her. I...wanted...chores. Oh my..what is happening to me?
So now I had an adventure of not thinking about food. I would instead, find something to keep me busy. Really the only thing I found to do that I thought was a slight bit safe was...adjust the fur carpeting. I would pull the edges flat, comb my fingers through it, and start to layer them from darker hues on top to lighter shades towards the less traffic area's. Or the area's I assumed might be less traffic. There was a fresh breeze coming in as the flap was tied back just a bit, I am assuming to air out the wagon. I closed my eyes and breathed in all it had to offer me. Right now it was offering this buttery wonderful roasting aroma of vulo's. I felt my mouth water at an instant dream of its succulent white meat melting against my tongue. Leaning back against the half wall of the wagon I pulled my blanket around me. I pondered a nap, I could dream of eating right? Of the long rows of tables of the great hall. People sitting ready to eat with markers of bowls of salt upon each surface. I would smile looking down at the rest as I would sit at the main table with my family, and have trays of meats, fruits and cheeses with bread offered to me. Life was good.
I heard steps, motions when I would open my eyes and see the pretty dark haired girl walk in. I honestly was thankful to see a face! She brought me a small bowl of water, and the first thing I started to do when I got it, was wash up. I felt more grubby then I felt thirsty. Being chained had its drawbacks but I was very anal about cleanliness. I blushed a bit, when she went to get the basin for something a bit more suitable for washing up. We talked a bit, I asked for a rep cloth, she got me one, need a bit of cloth to scrub off the dirty parts, or the parts that felt dirty. Scrubbing made the skin a bit pink under freckles but it was so refreshing. Funny thing happened, as I was washing up, and talking...I had a back of the mind thought of Him. A bit of olive oil with ginger, men of the North seemed to like it, it would absorb into the skin and not smell like a woman, it would be a pleasing, soothing scent, and it would make tight skin soft and itch less. The men used it on scars caused by chunks of flesh sewn together after a piece has been removed from an axe. I figured it would be the same tightness feeling as He spoke of mentioning His scars. Perhaps...I shall look into it once I'm out of lock down. I thought of little things just swirling around in my head. Weird. Perhaps it was her..who did it. She gave a feel of happiness. I could feel its tingle as she spoke and moved around. The dreamy look in her eyes that caused them to glow when she spoke of Him. I wanted that feeling. She thought I was some girl named Pink, I guess that belongs to Him also. I asked her if He had some color thing happening? Pink..now Red. I thought in the back of my mind..what color would she be? Catch, her name is Catch. Now I can stop lifting my hands up every time I hear it. Its not the name she was born with, but its the one He gave her. Like He dubbed me, simply...Red. I think I would call her Yellow, like Lar Torvis's rays painting over the rich hues of yellow Talendar. Yes, that would be perfect for her. Big Red would have liked her a lot. They could have sat around and talked about fuzzy happy la la love shit. I could hear my sister now...Vivica, keep using those foul words and I will tell Father you used his prize dagger collection to make spike steps to ladder up the tree...She could so be no fun, but me and Von had a blast! We spent all afternoon hammering in those daggers tight into the base of the tree like a spiral stair case around the trunk so we could use the tips of our toes to climb the handles to the top branches. They were great daggers too, not one blade broke. Of course Father found out, cause we did such a good job of putting them in, they wouldn't budge to be removed..... Father chased the both of us with a switch until we ran to hide in the bosk herd. He never took the daggers out though. She was moving in and out checking on food and speaking with me. My mind would wander in the breaks of our conversation.
She thought I was special cause I got no real choices, I thought she was because she did. Funny how different we both see things. She had a chance to return home, I didn't see it in my future anymore. So much praise she gave Him. Calling Him the Brave Warrior Fonce, though I doubt she would say that to Him, He was Master to us. In a way, it was nice to hear it. It was like a friend speaking to a friend. I will pretend that is the case. Made me miss Ingrid. Though she submitted to my Brother out of love, and was now a slave, me and her would still talk to secrets of our heart. She said....the chain would reach outside the entrance. I could have kicked myself! If I had known that I would have been sitting outside! Gathering the blanket around me, I did just that, walked out and sat near the edge of the frame holding the leather flap of doorway. I watched her cook, she brought me food which was beyond delicious. I was about to tell her about my sister..when she had chores to finish and said she would return.
I wanted to go with her. I...wanted...chores. Oh my..what is happening to me?
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