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Intended Ch. 01

By: starscape



Although the story occurs in a particular time, its location is a product of my imagination; it is not intended to represent a particular place or people.



Intended Ch. 01



So Jakal knew Sala had the right to take him as a lover if she so chose. Of course the man had to be willing, but in general it was not considered polite to spurn a woman's advances without good reason, and in which case it was important to save face when rejecting her invitation. Not that many often desired to turn an alluring female away.

His painfully stiff manhood illustrated he had no intention of rejecting Sala's advances should she make them. Nonetheless, he knew that only if she had welcomed his tongue the night before could he follow through with his desire to taste her now. 

Besides, he was assuming she dreamed of him; for all he knew she was using his body inadvertently, imagining herself with some other male. So he continued to lie still, breathing her in, tortured as he burned for her.

A shiver rippled up her spine as the woman fought the urge to run her fingertips down his muscular arm. Holding her breath, she carefully lifted her leg off the man sleeping beside her, sliding her hips back as far as the tiny space would allow. 

A moment later the Tracker cleared his throat and turned over, looking at his companion's face as sunlight peeked through tiny gaps in the otherwise dim shelter. Smiling, he asked, low, "The sun has returned. Did you dream well?"

"Er, ah, y-yes, yes I did," Sala stammered, now certain he had been awake all along. "And, and you?"

He nodded. "I often find the moments just before waking to be an especially powerful time for vivid dreams."

Her heart pounded in her throat. "Oh? I had not noticed."

"Yes. Perhaps our spirits know when it is soon time to return home from their wanderings, so they do those things they neglected, but desired to do when they entered the Dream World."

Trembling, Sala forced herself to take a deep breath. It sounded choppy, more ragged than she had hoped. She was unprepared for what came next.

"If I might ask, where did your dreams take you?"

It was a bold, rather intimate question. One's dreamtime journeys contained many secrets of a person's spirit and therefore were considered private, almost sacred. The dreamer could certainly choose to reveal a dream to anyone, but typically, only the closest of companions might solicit that information. There were no formal prohibitions against inquiring about another's dreams; it just was customary to reserve such discussions for one's most trusted confidants. 

"I, I do not remember," she answered, too mortified to chastise him for asking her something so personal. "Sometimes I awake from the Dream World with no knowledge of my wanderings from the night before."

The man's lips twitched. "I understand. It also happens to me sometimes. Perhaps at those times one's spirit has chosen to keep certain secrets to itself."

"You may be right."

Silence fell between them, their eyes locked in an embrace for only a moment. 

Jakal sat up. "Are you ready to start the day? Perhaps I could catch us fresh fish for our morning meal." 





Intended Ch. 01



It is not the only thing that is very exciting, Jakal thought. "Thank you, I will," he answered, returning her smile.

The woman allowed herself to watch the naked man as he waded toward the fall. She had glimpsed his erection and found it both flattering and arousing that he could maintain it in water this cold. 

The firm muscles of his back, shoulders and arms rippled with each step. While he stood under the waterfall, Sala envisioned herself sliding her body all over his, then taking that beautiful organ into her mouth. She felt her sex pulling, surging as she watched his drenched skin shine.

At last he returned to where she stood. "You are right. That is...exhilarating," he enthused with a grin, his hair dripping over his shoulders.

After working the foam through their hair, they began rubbing their bodies with the natural soap. Taking a scoop of foam in her hand, Sala waded toward another rock on the other side of the pool so that she could sit on it and wash her genitals. For privacy's sake she turned her back toward Jakal before opening her legs.

It did not matter that her back faced him; the Tracker became even more aroused at the sight of the woman's naked back, tan legs spreading wide, hands disappearing between them. He stopped washing his own body, distracted by watching her touch her most private of places.

Her task complete, Sala had almost completely turned around before he realized he had been staring. Smiling, she waded her way back to him. 

"Will you rub the foam on my back?" she requested, turning around and lifting her thick veil of hair.

The man nodded, his mouth too dry to speak. Working in circles, he massaged her back while he worked the soaproot over her sleek, pliant skin. His erection strained painfully; never had he desired a woman so much, never had he been so denied. He had to will himself not to slide his foamy hands to the split between her buttocks.

"Thank you," Sala said after he had finished. "Would you like me to wash your back?"

Again Jakal nodded without a word, turning around and lifting the heavy length of his hair.

Rubbing the muscles of his back in circles as he had done for her, the woman luxuriated in his hard, masculine figure. By the Spirits, she thought, his body is as beautiful as the rest of him. Closing her eyes, she envisioned the powerful muscles of his backside flexing as he thrust into her again and again.

Unbeknownst to her, Sala began caressing his back with slow, sensuous strokes as she fantasized about coupling with Jakal. However, this action had not been lost on him.

When her caressing fingers worked their way down to his low back, he could take the agony no longer. With a deep groan, he turned around and implored at last, "Woman, why do you torment me? You touch me as though you desire me and you use my body while you sleep. When you look at me your eyes and body show your need. I offer myself freely to you. Why do you not wish to share bodies with me?"

Sala froze, stunned at his plea, stunned he had given voice to that which had been torturing them both since the moment he captured her. A man was not usually so forward with a woman. It was up to her to decide whether or not to initiate a coupling. He could indicate his interest, of course, but he typically did so with far more subtlety. 

At the same time, a woman either wanted a man or did not want him. Certainly a degree of flirtation or teasing was anticipated in order to prolong or heighten their mutual gratification, but it was understood to be inappropriate to arouse him again and again if she had no intention of sharing furs with him.

Why was she fighting what both of them so clearly wanted? Her attraction to him was undeniable. She enjoyed his company. Was she so stubborn, so inflexible that she would actually pass up an opportunity for real pleasure? Besides, what did it matter? She was leaving anyway.

Jakal's skin flushed at his impulsive outburst. While he had never had problems finding willing partners before, he knew quite well what he had said was not in good form; he embarrassed them both by not demonstrating more self-control. But he really did want to know the answer to his question. He wanted her, she wanted him; why did she resist what was so natural between them? At least now it was out in the open.

"I, I am sorry," Sala began at last, feeling self-conscious and shy. "I do desire you, I do want to share bodies with you."

His forehead wrinkled. "If you feel that way, then why have you not signaled your wish to couple?"

"I, I do not know. I, I find the way the other women compete over you...unbecoming. I did not wish to be like them. Besides, you came for me to capture me, force me to return to the Camp and the Spiritwalker. I did not want to want you but my body would not listen."

The Tracker stifled the urge to smile. "We have much to discuss," he acknowledged. "But since you have made your desire known, will you first allow me to bring you pleasure? It might be easier to have a serious discussion if we...relieve some of the tension we both feel."

A wide grin spread over Sala's face. "Yes, let us pleasure one another. But first, we need to wash the foam from our bodies."

Jakal's laughter rang out into the open air; he had completely forgotten that his hair and body was covered with soaproot. Picking up her hand, he replied, "Come."

The sheet of cold water rushed over them, rinsing the foam from their hair and skin effortlessly. The man turned to the woman beside him and drew her close, pressing his mouth against hers as they stood under the fall. Only the need to breathe forced the end of the kiss.

Sala's legs felt weak. If she had known kissing Jakal would feel this way, she would not have been so reluctant. Not wanting to waste any more time, she grabbed his hand and pulled him from the cascading stream toward the riverbank. They twisted their long hair, squeezing out the excess water, and took turns drying themselves with the pelt towel.

Their still-damp bodies came together, arms snaked around each other, hands stroking backs and waists as they kissed deeply. The woman brought a tentative tongue to the space where their lips met and was pleased to find him eager to accept her. He allowed her tongue to explore his mouth for a few moments before meeting her tongue with his own and finally exploring his partner's mouth.

A groan passed from one to the other, their lips locked together. At last Jakal broke the kiss and looked down into the woman's dilated eyes. "I have wanted to do that since I found you."

"Me too," Sala admitted. "That and more."

He groaned again. "Come, Sala. Lie with me."

The couple ran naked to the lean-to. Snatching the furs from inside, they spread them on a flat area near the shelter. That done, they stood before them, kissing again; this time the man reached one hand to a breast, caressing its beautifully curved shape and stroking his fingers over her hardened nipple. 

At the same time, the woman's hand glided down his body, her fingers fondling the sensitive head of his manhood as she felt the lubricating fluid leaking from its tiny opening. Closing her fingers around his hot shaft, she began sliding her fist from base to tip, his foreskin assisting her efforts to bring him pleasure.

Once more they shared a moan between them, and again Jakal broke the kiss.

"Beautiful Sala, I am so close to release with my need for you," he confessed, voice heavy with desire. "If you continue touching me as you are I may not be able to join our bodies together, and I very much wish to do so."

Removing her hand from his organ, she slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him again. Leading her by the hand, Jakal lowered the woman to the silky furs so that she lay on her back. 

Lying beside, facing her, he turned her face toward his and kissed her again before his lips drifted to her chin and jaw. He worked his way to one earlobe, then the other, nibbling each while Sala moaned. Grazing her neck and collarbone, the woman cried out again as his mouth contacted her sensitive places.

"Mmm, yesss. Please," she pleaded, begging him to continue. "I need you, need your..."

The man picked up the arm closest to him and caressed the soft skin of her inner arm with his lips and tongue, working his way up. As he passed her underarm, he inhaled. After bathing, her personal scent was rather faint, but his nose was quite sensitive and Jakal groaned as he breathed in her essence. He then moved on to her chest, circling his way to her breasts.

It is so much like my dream, the woman thought as she waited impatiently for him to suckle her sensitive nipples. I cannot believe I almost did not... Her thoughts were cut off as he finally drew one of them into the heat of his wet mouth. 

While she arched her back in a silent appeal for him to continue, Jakal explored each hardened tip with his mouth and fingers, alternating his attention from one to the other, listening to Sala moan and sigh beneath him. 

At last he drew away from her breasts, eager to explore the rest of her body. Positioning himself between her legs he covered her abdomen with the same licks and nibbles he used before until, unable to wait any longer, she pushed his head toward his ultimate destination.

The man kissed the silky inside of both her thighs, slowly sliding his lips up one leg toward and over her burning sex and back down the other leg, delighting in the shivers it elicited in her.

"Pleeease Jakal," the woman begged, urging him to move on with whatever it was he was planning to do.

With a satisfied smile, the Tracker decided to end her torment. Spreading her legs a little wider, the swollen folds of her womanhood parted before him. 

Once again he inhaled her special fragrance; after building her arousal for so long, he could smell her better now and his rigid shaft throbbed in anticipation. He slowly drew the tip of his tongue the length of her entrance, causing the woman to flail about. She was so close to the edge that she was ready to erupt. As he groaned at the taste and feel of her velvety petals covered with her sweet nectar, Sala lay moaning, squeezing her nipples between her fingers. 

Jakal licked his way to the top of her slit, finding her button engorged and released from its hood. He lightly blew on it and she screamed, the heat of his breath nearly sending her soaring off the cliff. Lowering his lips to surround the node, he flicked it with his tongue.

"Yesss, yes, YES!" Sala shrieked, bucking, finally finding release. 

Following her thrashing body through the wave, Jakal kept his mouth over her bud, continuing to lick it up and down, side to side, around and around. He soon felt her body stiffening, another swell about to crash.

"No, no...oh yes, yes! Yes, Jakal!" she screamed afresh as another wave tore through her.

The Tracker shifted his body up her feminine form until his eyes met hers. Before she could say a word, he lowered his head to kiss her. Tasting herself on his face, her groan vibrated against him.

Bringing her hands to his shoulders, she ran them down his muscular arms. "Please," Sala begged, lowering one hand to his swollen organ, sliding the foreskin back and forth, "join with my body, make me your woman."

They both moaned as he entered her. Placing his hands behind her head, he crushed his mouth against hers as he ground into her pelvis, his shaft pushing deeper and deeper until he was fully sheathed. Jakal then began to pump, building up speed while her body trembled beneath him.

"By the Spirits!" she cried out, cresting yet again.

With a final thrust, shouting her name, he followed her over the edge. Sala's spasms drained his tool of its pent-up seed until finally, at long last, his shuddering body was completely spent.





Intended Ch. 02



The warbling of songbirds filling his ears, Jakal awoke with his usual stiffness, but for the first time he did not hesitate to caress the skin of the woman lying next to him. Propping himself up on an elbow, he lazily stroked the length of Sala's arm, watching her sleep.

She is glorious, he thought, again incredulous he could have overlooked her all these years. He wondered if the Spiritwalker would allow her to commune with other men after they were mated. Somehow, he knew the shaman would never permit it. Jakal hated the idea of never joining his body with this woman again. If I had only opened my eyes instead of being so focused on my own problems, perhaps I would have noticed her. Perhaps we might have...

Had they resumed their journey this morning, it would have given them at least six more days together, possibly as many as eight if they did not hurry. At least now they had a little more time; though certainly not enough, it was better than nothing.

A renewed sense of urgency propelling him forward, he lowered his lips to her softly curving shoulder and grazed her tan skin. Sala murmured and leaned into him in her sleep. Slipping an arm under hers, his hand swept up her side and stopped at a breast. He stimulated its nipple in the space between his first and middle digits, sliding slowly from knuckle to tip, feeling it tighten.

The woman shivered, unsure at first if this was yet another dream. But when she felt fingers winding their way down her belly, she woke, sighing with pleasure. Pressing her backside into Jakal's groin, she signaled her eagerness to proceed with whatever it was he had in mind.

Lowering his head to her neck, he kissed and licked her skin before moving his lips to her ear. "The sun has returned. Did you dream well?"

His hand reached its mark before she could answer. "Mmm," Sala moaned, thrusting her hips back and forth as she rubbed her stiff nub against his fingers.

The man felt her sex pulsing under his hand. As she had done before losing the ability to control her own stimulation, he stroked the length of his digits alongside her button. Hearing the pitch of her cries raise into a keen, he continued on, knowing a second peak was imminent.

Clamping her legs shut, the woman curled herself forward and wailed with the intensity of her release. When her awareness returned, Sala relaxed her muscles, allowing his hand's withdrawal, and looked up into the magnetic eyes of the man who brought her so much pleasure.

Jakal brought his wet fingers to her lips, and she suckled in the same manner as she had his organ the day before. He groaned at the surge that shot through him as she cleaned them of her juices, his manhood so swollen it trembled in anticipation of entering her body. Pulling his hand away, he lowered it to one of her supple thighs. 

Lifting the uppermost leg and hooking it over his arm, he shifted himself behind her and slipped into her hot opening. As he pumped, his hard shaft flowed smoothly within her velvety passage and he cried out at the exquisiteness of her steaming caress.

Looking down to see Sala in the throes of ecstasy, eyes closed as she whimpered, Jakal again whispered in her ear.

"Pleasure yourself," he urged. "Beautiful Sala, touch yourself for me."

Numbly, she lowered a shaking hand between her thighs while he penetrated her from behind. Lifting the suspended leg a little higher to give her freer access, the heat of his breath grazed her neck as he looked down, watching her finger her dewy petals. 

Sala became more alert, aroused by the sensations of Jakal's stiff organ thrusting in and out of her while she stimulated the node of nerves above her entrance. But more than that, she could feel his eyes locked on her as he groaned and quaked and she knew he derived intense pleasure watching her bring herself ever closer to the pinnacle. 

"Keep going," he encouraged in her ear, voice thick with lust. "Make yourself scream. Come to the end with me."

Jakal's aural stroking vaulted her into a rapturous frenzy, and the woman screamed, fingers madly rubbing her nub, clenching her lover's member within her throbbing tunnel. He moaned wordlessly, triggered by her release, his shaft jerking as he emptied inside her.





Intended Ch. 02



As all females, the young woman already possessed a certain proficiency in identifying foodstuffs and commonly used medicinal plants, a skill developed since early childhood. However, under Mala's tutelage, her knowledge base exploded almost exponentially, and the girl absorbed the new information as the earth takes in water after a soaking rain.

On one of their later expeditions, the pair encountered a fungus Sala had, up until that point, only heard her mother's mother describe. After the older woman explained precisely how to identify these very special mushrooms, they harvested the quantity necessary for the desired effect. The specimens were then hidden near the bottom of Mala's gathering pouch. Once dried, she concealed them in a small decorated bag given to her by her second mate. Somehow, it seemed appropriate.

On the eve of Sala's passage into womanhood, as was their people's custom, Mala took her on an overnight excursion. Its purpose was to prepare her for adulthood, where they would discuss such matters as men, sexual relationships, pregnancy and childbirth, mating and managing a hearth. Anything the young female wished to know or any wisdom her mentor considered important to pass on were open for discussion. The event took place away from the Camp to encourage open and honest dialog, as emerging women often felt shy voicing their questions and concerns in more public settings.

So it was under these circumstances that the two embarked on a covert, unauthorized voyage using the sacred magic of the mushrooms they had gathered together. It forever changed the way they saw the world, both this one and the next, and brought them even closer. Sala had never known such intimacy with anyone, even her own mother, as when she and Mala traveled to the Spirit World that night.

Less than a month after their otherworldly visit, the older woman disappeared into the woods for unknown reasons. In recent days Sala had been spending a significant portion of her time sharing furs with a variety of men, learning about the pleasures of the body; as such, she had less time for taking walks with her mother's mother. 

That evening, Mala returned to the Camp clearly frightened, her face pale, hands shaking. She pulled the young woman to a quiet place so they could speak in some privacy. 

"Sala, I trust you have told no one of the knowledge you hold?" she inquired, her dark eyes darting furtively.

"Of course not, Mala. Why? What is wrong?"

"It is not safe to speak of it now. But promise me this. Tell nothing of the wisdom you possess. Do not use what you know until it is safe," she whispered urgently. "It may be many years, but you will know when it is the right time. And even then, be certain anyone you share such things with is someone you trust with your life."

Sala pledged to honor her entreaty. At the older woman's insistence, the pair walked away from each other in opposite directions and went about their business as if the previous discussion had not occurred.

The next morning, Mala fell ill with nausea and a cold sweat. By evening she was delirious and coughing up blood. The Spiritwalker attempted to administer medicinal teas, but she vomited almost immediately after consuming them. He then tried appealing to the Spirits, but it was too late; she died in agony two days later.

The Camp was in an uproar. They knew death. Individuals died from accidents, old age, and yes, illness, every year. But in none of their memories had they witnessed someone so healthy and vital fall ill so suddenly and violently for no reason. The people clamored for an explanation, and their spiritual leader eventually agreed to meet with the Spirits to see if they could provide them the answer.

The Spiritwalker disappeared into the Ceremonial Hut for two days. When he emerged, he announced that the Spirits had responded to their appeal and instructed them all to gather that night for the revelation.

In the darkness, the air charged with anxious anticipation, speculative conversations buzzed here and there. Sala, the pain of her loss fresh and raw, spoke to no one, but she shared their concern and need for answers.

Amid this atmosphere of suspense and mystery, the shaman suddenly appeared, seemingly from nowhere, in front of the expectant crowd. Gesturing dramatically, he announced that the Spirits had revealed all. He pulled from the waistband of his leggings a small leather bag and held it up for all to see. Upon sight of it Sala's mouth grew dry; it was Mala's secret hiding place for the mushrooms!

"Mala acquired forbidden knowledge of the Other World, knowledge of magic only Spiritwalkers may possess," he stated with authority, revealing the pouch's contents. "It was not clearly shown to me how she obtained such information, but it is possible she may have learned it from the old Spiritwalker without his awareness. As you know, he became quite feeble in his end years.

"The Spirits tell me that Mala attempted a journey to the Spirit World, without the aid of a Spiritwalker, by consuming a sacred plant. By instead eating a similar-appearing, but poisonous twin, she demonstrated a fatal lack of wisdom regarding this powerful spiritual tool."

A collective gasp rippled throughout the audience. Then the murmuring started. How could this have happened? Why would Mala do such a thing? She had always been so sensible. Yes, but she was always too curious for her own good.

Sala sat in silence, shaking, filled with grief and incredulous anger. He lied! Mala would not make a mistake like that, and she certainly would not attempt to visit the Spirit World alone. Is that why she was so afraid that night? Did he find out what she knew? Did she die because he... Angry as she was, she dared not finish the thought. It was impossible, unconscionable. Still, a seed had been planted.

The shaman stood before them, motioning for silence. That attained, he continued. "Let us not condemn Mala for her mistakes. We all knew her to be a good woman: a mate, a mother, a friend to many. Let us remember her in this manner. However, let her death serve as a potent reminder why knowledge of sacred wisdom and powerful magic is forbidden and can be truly comprehended only by a Spiritwalker."

Sala straightened her legs, thinking about her mother's mother as she stood up. The passage of years had not eased the emptiness her absence brought.

"Mala," she whispered, remembering her beloved mentor's face as she clutched the gathering pouch gently to her chest, "I still miss your wisdom and your company. You told me long ago that I would know when it would be safe to use the magic again. Is this a sign that now is the time? Can I trust the Tracker with the secrets I possess?"





Intended Ch. 02



Jakal stroked the petals and opening of Sala's canal with his fingers, gathering as much of the copious fluid as possible. Moving his now-slippery hand to her second orifice, he gently circled the soft skin with his slick digits as she keened deliriously. 

Feeling her body relax, he placed his finger at her entrance; pressing forward carefully, he waited for the clenching muscles to yield and grant him access. At last she opened, welcoming him inside. Again he paused as she adjusted to his entry. When he noticed the tight band loosening slightly, he slid a little further, and later, further still until at last he was inside her to the last knuckle.

After allowing her to get used to his digit's presence, he slowly drew back until it almost completely exited her hole, leaving only the tip to the first knuckle inside. Once again he pushed forward and pulled back. Now that she had completely accepted him, he pumped in and out, and Sala cried at this new stimulation.

"Uh, uh, uhhh... You will make me die!" she wailed, pushing back against his hand.

Taking this as a sign to move forward, Jakal lowered his other hand to gather more of her essence. Transferring the lubrication to the middle finger of the opposite hand, his index finger left her rear opening to join its now-wet neighbor. Together, they repeated his previous actions, and soon both penetrated her narrow passage.

When her body indicated its readiness, he added a third digit and soon he was thrusting them in and out of her while Sala murmured in a daze. "Ohhh... It feels like your manhood is inside me... Mmm...so good..."

With his free hand, the Tracker gently raised the woman's bottom so that he could taste her. As when she pleasured his manhood, her sex dripped hot secretions onto his chest; lifting his head, he licked from the bottom of her slit all the way to the quivering node nestled atop her opening.

"Your taste intoxicates me, woman," Jakal moaned, burying his face into her folds.

He felt the ring squeezing his pumping fingers begin to flit erratically and knew the end was imminent. Placing his lips over her hard nub, he suckled it earnestly, stroking his tongue on, around and over it. He began thrusting even faster in and out of her backside and then all at once Sala unleashed a rolling, full body groan. 

Her entire genital area throbbed as the taut muscles of her rear orifice contracted rhythmically, clamping down on his digits. She shuddered, drops of her juices sprinkling Jakal's face and chest. Her body roiled as the wave crashed through her, and she spasmed again and again.

With great effort Sala pushed herself up and turned around. Still quivering all over, she crept her way toward the man who had given her so much. The aroma of her own fluids thick in her nostrils, she wearily lowered herself into his waiting arms.

"Jakal," she began, voice trembling from the effort, "never have I known such pleasure. It was almost more than I could bear. I do not know how to thank you."

He kissed the top of her head. "The actions of your magnificent body already thanked me."

Sala was confused but still too exhausted to move; as it remained difficult to speak, she did not respond.

"Never have I seen a womanhood so wet, so swollen," he went on excitedly, his voice growing husky. "Your essence flowed out from within you and covered me with your sweet fragrance."

"Few men have...touched me as you have," she confessed shyly when she was finally able to speak clearly. "I did not realize it could be so pleasurable."

"It is my desire to bring you pleasure in every way I know," Jakal explained, fingertips stroking one of her nipples as he thought of other means of bringing her rapture.

"I must rest and regain my strength," she told him, snuggling under his arm as she breathed deeply of his scent mingled with her own. "When I awake, I wish to pleasure you in any way you desire. Is that agreeable to you?"

He grinned. Leaning over, he kissed the woman, and Sala tasted herself strongly on his face. "I also need rest. Sleep well, sweet Sala."





Intended Ch. 03



The crossed branches holding the waterskin pot above the flames sagged under the weight of its burden. Steam rose from the half-filled container and dissipated into the air. Stretching out his legs, Jakal locked his fingers behind his head and reclined, resting his shoulders against the log behind him. 

Gazing up at the sky vividly colored by the sunset, he sighed. "Sala, once again you prepare a meal worthy of a Gathering of Clan Leaders."

It pleased her to see him content. Jakal had been almost continuously tense since she first proposed a shared pilgrimage to the Spirit World using the sacred mushrooms she discovered near their camp. The woman knew it was not easy for him to agree to what she asked of him, and admired his courage for being willing to go through with it despite his fear.

"The meal would not have been complete without the meat you provided," she reminded him.

The man smiled at her, pleased she had thought to mention it. "It was good for a change," he admitted, allowing himself a self-congratulatory moment.

The couple sat in silence as dusk faded into twilight. Displacing the friendly, casual banter they enjoyed, a sense of nervous anticipation once again filled the space between them. Glancing down at the steaming bowl beside her, filled with the beverage that would facilitate their voyage, Sala decided it was time to get started and spare him further anxiety.

"Jakal," she began, "if you will come sit across from me, I will explain what to expect tonight and answer any questions you may have."

Rising slowly from where he was with subconscious hesitation, he took a few steps over to the place she indicated and sat down again.

The woman gave him a warm, encouraging smile. "Do you remember last night when I said that we will be going somewhere, but we also will not need to leave this place?"

"Yes." He could not forget that statement; it was one of the most puzzling things she had said in a very puzzling conversation.

"Try to think back to a time when you took the sacred journey before. Did you notice your body there?"

"Of course."

"Were you able to touch things with your hands, things that were there before you entered the Spirit World?"

"I, I do not know. I do not remember other things being there."

"Do not let that concern you," she reassured him. "Do you perhaps remember the floor you sat upon?"

That he did remember. "Yes, I do."

"Do also you remember the cushion you sat upon on the floor?"

He was getting more confused, not less. "Yes, Sala, I remember," he answered impatiently. "What of it?"

"I asked you these questions to help you understand that the Spirit World and our own intersect. The things that are here, right now -- the fire, the lean-to, the river, the rocks and the trees -- everything that is here also exists there."

"I do not understand. How can that be?"

"Have you noticed that every time Spiritwalkers guide our people to the Other World, we are always inside? In the Gathering Place, or a dwelling, or the Ceremonial Hut?" The woman suppressed an almost reflexive shudder that came whenever she thought of the last location.

"Now that I think of it, you are right."

"I do not know the reason for that particular practice. Perhaps it is to keep us safe, to protect us from becoming overpowered by what we experience there. A person who is afraid and does not understand may get hurt, lost or even killed. Perhaps it is also to help facilitate direct contact with the Spirits by focusing our attention on one goal." She hesitated. "And, perhaps, it is also a way to keep us from knowledge and ideas we might acquire. More openness regarding the magic Spiritwalkers use in their ceremonies might expose information to us that they wish to keep to themselves."

"What does this have to do with your assertion that our world intersects with the Other?"

"I do not want you to be...overwhelmed by what you see and hear and feel during our time there. The experience will be very different from those you have undergone before, and I want you to understand why before we go. You know already how powerful visiting the Spirit World can be; crossing over out in the world it can overcome you if you do not know what to expect.

"As I stated before, the things of our world will be there in the next, like and yet unlike it is here. You will be able to touch things, even pick them up, but they will be both different and the same as they are here. You will be able to smell and taste things just as you do here, but you will perceive them in a different way. It is similar enough that you may even be able to move about, walk from place to place, though it can be difficult."

"How can this be, Sala? How can the Other World contain the same things that are in this one?" Jakal asked, genuinely astonished.

"I do not know the answer to that, Jakal," she answered honestly. She decided then to make her first admission. "You guessed correctly that my first visit to the Spirits' domain was with the mother of my mother. We did not have as much time as we wished to discuss our journey..." The woman took a moment to regain control. "But Mala thought perhaps the Other World appears similar because it exists very closely to ours, almost as if it is shifted just a little bit from what we can perceive under normal circumstances."

An idea suddenly formed in her mind. "Think of it this way. We cannot see in the dark, not very well, without fire or the moon or the stars to light our way. Without them, we are almost blind. But the owl hunts in the night and sees our world very well in the dark, far better than we do. If we had eyes like the owl we too would be able to see in the dark. Use of the sacred magic is like giving us the eyes to be able to see the Spirit World."

"I think understand now, or at least as much as I can without seeing it with my own eyes. Thank you."

Sala was glad to see the man's tight muscles relaxing a little. She decided to move on to the next important piece of information he needed to know before they departed.

"There is something else you need to know. We will most likely be able to look into each other's spirit, see each other very clearly. We may even exchange a piece of our spirits, and when we return the pieces we received may remain within us. That is what happened to Mala and me; I still hold a part of her spirit even after all this time. It is...very profound, a very intimate experience, Jakal. I thought you should know that. I will understand if you no longer wish to go with me."

Jakal was moved, both by what she described and the fact that she told him this up front, giving him the opportunity to change his mind. She had been very candid with him about what to expect, he thought. Actually, the way she described the Other World roused his curiosity and he was beginning to look forward to the voyage. The anxiety and doubt he had been feeling since the night before fell away and was replaced by calm.

"I thank you for your openness and honesty," he responded, reaching over and clasping one of her hands in his. "You have explained things very well. I do not have any more questions. I have no more doubts. I am ready to go when you decide it is time."

It was now the woman's turn to be moved, in her case by the unquestionable trust he had just demonstrated, and she squeezed his hand in silent thanks.

Sala drew from beside her the beautiful bowl the Tracker had carved for her just the day before. Placing it on the ground in the space between them, the object was filled with a fragrant mixture of herbs and crushed berries in addition to the sacred magic. 

"We will begin now," she informed the man who sat across from her. "First I must appeal to the Spirits."

He nodded silently.

She placed her hands on either side of the bowl but did not lift it from the ground. Instead, she lifted her eyes to the darkening sky.

"Great Spirits of the Other World, we come here before you to ask for your assistance. I, and the man who sits before me, wish to travel to your realm this night. We seek answers that can only be discovered in your World. We seek to know and understand each other better in a way that can only be learned in your World. And we seek whatever wisdom you deem fit to bestow upon us. 

"We humbly ask of you two things. First, that you will permit us safe passage, both as we travel to your World and when we return to our own. Second, that you will welcome our presence during our stay."

Sala lowered her eyes and looked into Jakal's. She had a sudden inspiration. "Is there anything you wish to say to the Spirits, Jakal?"

He started; he was not expecting that particular question. "I, I was not expecting to have to say anything, Sala. I do not know what to say."

"Speak only from your heart," she encouraged. "The Spirits will understand the meaning, even if the words do not come out exactly the way you intended. This is your journey just as much as mine, and you have the right to speak to them as you deem fit. You are not required to say anything; I only wish to give you the opportunity."

The man sat for a few moments thinking. "Very well," he said at last. "I tell you now, it will not be as eloquent as your appeal, but it is the best I can do under the circumstances."

The woman smiled at him warmly. "That is all any of us can do. Begin when you are ready."

Jakal looked up at the sky, trying to figure out how to begin. Speak from your heart, she said; all right, he would start there.

"Great Spirits of the Other World," he began, following Sala's lead, "as the woman before me just said, we seek to visit your realm this night. I would like to add to what she asked of you. Spirits, this woman needs to know if she can reveal to me heavy secrets her spirit carries. Please help her to see clearly into my spirit so that she will know if I am worthy of her trust."

Sala sat looking into the bowl in front of her, watching the plant matter it contained floating in the potent tea they were about to drink. Her throat constricted at the simple elegance of the Tracker's request. She was already beginning to feel that she could trust him, and they had not even started on their sacred voyage.

"I am sure the Spirits will take what you have asked for in mind, Jakal," she said at last. "Your words were more...eloquent than you give yourself credit for." She paused. "Are you ready to consume the beverage now?"

"I am ready."

The woman lifted the bowl to her lips. She took a draught of the minty, fruity brew and swallowed. Good, she could barely taste the mushrooms' bitterness. She held out the container to her companion.

Looking down into the liquid impregnated with floating bits of herbs and berries, his fingers touched hers when he accepted the object she proffered. Following her example, he took a big drink from the bowl. At the taste of it his eyes widened. 

"Sala, this is delicious. Never has a sacred beverage tasted so...agreeable. How did you do it?" Jakal asked in pleasant surprise as he handed the vessel back to her.

"Oh, I just added plants that taste good together. As Mala once said, 'just because the Spiritwalkers have us consume the beverage tasting so foul does not mean we cannot enjoy it.'"

The man smiled with some amusement. Mala was clearly someone who strongly influenced Sala's personality, he thought. Her daughter's daughter turned out much like her.

Slowly they passed the wooden bowl back and forth, draining it swallow by swallow, until all that remained were the herbs and berry skins. While they waited for the magic's power to take effect, they moved to sit side by side against the log lying on the ground near the campfire, talking and watching the flames lick the night air.

The fire began to radiate a distinct, glittering blue aura that followed the movements of its source as two dancers moving in concert. The flames undulated and twisted around themselves, squeezing their colors into long, separate strands. The strands wove together as a woman plaits her hair and just as quickly unbraided, waving like meadow grasses.

"Jakal, I am crossing into the Spirit World," Sala announced, trying to keep her voice steady. Though she projected calm for the sake of her companion, she did have her own fears. She had done this only once before and it had been many years ago. Furthermore, the mother of her mother had guided the experience. She had never been responsible for another's spiritual journey before.

She heard the deep mellowness of his voice traveling toward her from far away. "I am with you. I see it too," he answered, his large hand enclosing over hers.

Looking for the source of the voice, her eyes met Jakal's. Large black pupils obscured much of the blue in his eyes. His face glowed radiantly in the light of the campfire. Each flicker slowed to last many moments, with each permutation highlighting his chiseled features in an endless variety of ways. Sala was amazed to see that the man had so many different faces, yet each one was beautiful.

The woman lifted a hand to stroke his ever changing, luminous face and observed many bright colors streaming from her moving limb. "All of your faces are beautiful, Light-Eyed One," she told him softly, watching the colors shooting from her fingertips linger before absorbing into the phosphorescence of his skin.

Jakal found himself diving into dark, twin pools. He did not understand how it could be possible, but he plunged into both at the same time; somehow he occupied two places at once. How could this be? As he slowed to a stop his bodies rejoined somewhere in the endless dark in which he floated. 

His every inhalation and exhalation of breath echoed against unknown walls, but he could hear nothing else. He could see nothing, feel nothing, but he knew his body existed in this mysterious place. He had no idea where he was but he felt safe here, protected. Why was he not afraid?

A voice drifted toward him, coming from a great, vast distance. Straining, the man concentrated, listening between the breaths filling his ears. He knew that voice, its sensual cadence searching until it found him at last. Enveloping his body in its soft music, it carried him toward the surface, higher and higher, picking up speed. Suddenly his body snapped back and into the dim light. He could see again.

The man felt every minute line of Sala's soft fingertips tickling his skin as she touched his face. Scanning her feminine features, he reached his own hand to the woman's smooth hair, shimmering with trapped starlight.

"Your hair twinkles as the night sky," he said in wonder, more to himself than her. "How could I have not seen it before?"

For a time the two sat in the warm glow of the rippling flames, caressing each other's face; they both knew the other's features intimately and yet were seeing one another clearly for the very first time.

Jakal wasn't sure how, but suddenly they stood watching the sheet of falling water collide into the otherwise calm pool, every drop held suspended in the air for a moment before crashing forcefully to the surface. The resulting foam drummed shockwaves across the pool's skin, warping and bowing the points of light it held within.

Sala turned her eyes upward and gasped at the brilliant magnificence of the night sky. Never had she beheld so many stars. "Jakal," she whispered, full of awe, "the blackness blazes with light."

Following her pointing finger, his mouth dropped open in amazement. Since the time of their ancestors, their people used the pictures in the sky to help them measure the passage of time; they learned long ago that the stars always moved the same way, season after season, year after year. The man knew a great many of the pictures and the stories of their meaning, but he could not even begin to describe the infinite, shimmering splendor revealed to them this night.

Time shifted again, and they found themselves walking along the riverbank. Jakal knew this river was clearly the same as the one in their own world; it was as wide as theirs, curved in the same way. Even the trees flanking either side of it were familiar. 

But it also was not the same at all. The water swirled and bubbled, flowing gold, then silver, then pale green, twirling and changing color endlessly. As it undulated on its way downstream, the river whispered and giggled, playing like children. The trees breathed and murmured secrets to one another, their branches dancing to the rhythm of the brushing leaves. 

The torch he held flickered in time with his steps as his soles padded along the soft earth. Jakal turned to the woman at his side. The stars in her hair twinkled as she walked and small clouds of a fine sparkling mist hung in the air with her every breath. "You were right, Sala; this place is very much like, and yet so much unlike our world."

"It is like things are...more, here," she agreed. "Brighter, more colorful, more alive."

"You sound like a Spiritwalker," he commented, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. It was foolish to speak his name aloud while they visited this domain; in many ways the Other World was the Spiritwalker's territory, and they were infringing upon it. He did not know if the shaman had the ability to see them here, but if he was listening Jakal had just brought attention to themselves. 

Sala's breath drew in sharply. I wish he had not said that, she thought, though she said nothing, understanding he already regretted the slip. 

"Come, Jakal, let us watch the river play and then lie with me while the stars sing to us," she said instead, taking his hand.

Her feet splashed lightly across the rocks of the stream onto the green grass on the other side. Sala looked over her shoulder and beckoned for the man to follow her. Despite the woman's effortless passage, Jakal found the rocks slick, his steps clumsy. But finally, he reached the opposite bank, just in time to see the black hair of his companion disappear into the thick mist before him.

Why had she not waited? The Tracker tried to call out her name, but felt no sound leave his throat. He urgently needed to find her; she needs my protection, he thought. Though he could see nothing, he plunged headlong into the gray fog.

He ran ceaselessly in the vast, blank abyss. Suddenly, he saw a flash of black; her hair. He stretched out his hand across the expanse, trying to reach her before losing her again.

All at once he stood next to her, the mist drifting around them. Relieved, Jakal looked down to ask why she had run away and was startled to discover Sala no longer standing beside him; instead, she was lying on the ground, completely still. Fearful, the man crouched down to see if she still lived. 

With relief he saw that her chest rose and fell with her breathing, as if she were sleeping. Yet her eyes were wide open, staring up into the void. Why did she not move? He saw a tear form and slide down the side of her face before it disappeared into the soil cradling her head. He reached out tentatively to see if he could rouse her. Though her lips did not move, finally she spoke to him.

"Jakal," Sala said, touching his shoulder as he lay on the grass. "You have been asleep."

He shook his head to rouse himself. Sitting up, he asked, "How long have I slept?"

"Not long," she responded, smiling at him, her face shining lustrously. "But in that short time you seemed to be dreaming; you were mumbling and moving your body. I thought perhaps the Spirits wished to share special knowledge with you and were using a dream to convey it. I felt it wise to let you keep dreaming for a time. Did you dream well?"

"I am not sure," he answered. "It was a very strange dream, and it was about you."

The woman looked at him in surprise. "If you will forgive me for asking, would you be willing to share it with me?"




Intended Ch. 03



Jakal described the perplexing vision he had seen. The beautiful light emitting from Sala's face dimmed like a dying fire as she looked at him in shock.

The Tracker's face began to darken and lose its form, and she felt an increased sense of foreboding. His figure faded into the night and she stood in the meadow, completely alone. Sala cried out his name, filled with unknown dread. Where was he? She was afraid; she needed him. But he did not answer her pleas.

Suddenly she was face to face with the Spiritwalker. He stared at her with a maniacal smile and pointed to something in the distance. Sala did not want to look; she was too fearful. The man's eyes flamed and he seized her arm, gripping it so tightly she could feel the bruises forming. Yanking her around, he forced her to see. It was the Ceremonial Hut. Knowing that he intended to take her there, she cried out in terror and tried frantically to break free.

The Spiritwalker laughed at her futile attempts to flee. Flipping her around to face him, he grabbed her roughly and kissed her, forcing his tongue into her mouth. Then he dragged her by the hair toward his ultimate destination. 

"You are my Intended, Sala," he reminded her. "There is no sense in resisting it. You are my mate in this world and the next. Never forget that."

Jakal was trying desperately to break the woman from her trance as she screamed and thrashed, struggling to escape as he held her arms to keep her from hurting herself.

"No! Stop! Please, no! I beg you! NO!" she screamed in terror.

"Sala," he called, willing himself to keep his voice calmer than he felt. "It is only a dream. Sala, it is Jakal. You are safe. I will not let anything harm you."

A soothing voice spoke in Sala's ear, promising her that help was on the way. She felt herself disintegrating and the Spiritwalker lost his grasp of her hair as she escaped a terrible fate. When her body coalesced Jakal's face, his blue eyes filled with worry, appeared before her.

"Sala, you are safe," he reassured her gently. "I am with you."

The man saw her face start to relax with relief only for it to change just as suddenly into a grimace of pain as she began to sob, curling her body in on itself. As if he had been burned, he jerked away the hands holding her arms. 

"Sala, I am sorry. I was afraid that you might hurt yourself," he explained earnestly.

The weeping woman blindly reached for the man beside her and the safety of his embrace. Filled with confusion, he held her close as she burrowed her head into his chest, wetting it with her tears.

"Jakal," she began when her grief had started to dissipate. She found the warmth of his skin comforting as her cheek lay against his chest. "I would rather drown in the river than become the Spiritwalker's mate. I cannot allow him to touch me, hurt me ever again."

"Hurt you?" He had to know.

As a river bursts forth roiling and wild after a heavy rain, Sala unleashed all at once the burden she had carried for so long alone. She told him about the secrets Mala learned from the old Spiritwalker, and how after he died her mother's mother passed on that knowledge to her.

She spoke of her suspicions about Mala's unexpected, excruciating death that followed mere days after, shaking with fear, she warned her granddaughter to reveal to no one the wisdom she possessed. She described watching the Spiritwalker as he worked, and what happened when he caught her. Finally, and most importantly, she revealed the brutal rape she endured and the threats he issued that night after the shaman proclaimed Sala his Intended.

Jakal's eyes grew wider and wider as her incredible story progressed; filled with rage, he could contain himself no longer.

"What beast commits such abomination?" he spat, his face dark and seething, fists clenched angrily.

He believes me! Sala started to weep again, this time from relief.

"Do you see now why I resist this joining?" she finally responded, her cheeks wet with spent tears, her eyes pleading. "Do you understand now why I cannot, will not mate with him?"

Looking down at her tear-streaked face, Jakal gently wiped the water from her flushed skin. "I am sorry, Sala," he replied tenderly, embracing her against his chest, stroking her hair. "If I had known, I would not have pushed you to return. I would not have come after you in the first place. Forgive me."

"You could not know," she acknowledged, feeling secure in his arms. "And I am not sorry you found me. There is nothing to forgive."

They sat in silence. 

"What is to be done, Sala?" Jakal said at last. "What do you think we should do?"

"I do not know right now," she answered. "If you do not mind, I would prefer to speak of it after we return to our world. It seems as though discussing it in the Spirit World gives it more power. I do not wish to spend our remaining time here terrified that the Spiritwalker will return to take me away again."

The Tracker hugged her tightly. He too experienced a heightened sense of anxiety talking about such dark things here. It seemed to call those things to them. "I understand. How do you wish to spend our remaining time, brave, beautiful woman?"

"Let us return to the camp," Sala suggested. "I want to share my body, share my spirit with you in this place. I have looked into your spirit this night and you earned my trust; now I wish to return the gift. Besides, everything else here in this World is greater; I would like to see if it applies to pleasures of the body as well."

Jakal smiled at her subtle humor, a sign she was feeling more relaxed. Gently cupping her face in his hand, he turned the woman toward him and kissed her with great feeling.

With their arms around each other's waist, the couple walked leisurely back to the camp. Along the way they stopped many times, touching and exploring bodies as they stood in awe of the Spirit World's beauty.

When they reached the shelter the couple immediately stripped off their garments and crawled inside. The space was as cozy as always, but the furs were far plusher, silkier than they were in their world. 

Sala sat on Jakal's lap, her legs encircling his waist, and they brought their mouths together again and again with short but passionate kisses, marveling at the energy that hummed between their bodies with each contact. The woman began stroking her lips slowly from side to side as she rubbed them against her companion's, her sensitive skin memorizing their outline and shape. Lightly drawing his head to hers, she caressed his entire face with her pillowy petals, the landscape of all his masculine features fixing in her mind. 

As she smoothed her lips over the surface of his skin, Jakal shivered from the luscious sensation her delicate touch sent coursing through him. Though it was almost completely pitch black within the structure, with only the tiniest slivers of the fading firelight squeezing into the small gaps where one piece of leather met another, Sala's face and body began to shine ever brighter from within with an otherworldly light. 

Pushing her gently away from his face, the man whispered in awe, "Sala, I can see you clearly in the dark. A radiance comes from within you and surrounds your body like the light of the moon. Are you of the Spirit World?"

Her luminous hands moved toward either side of his invisible form, examining the curves of his muscular arms. "In a way we are all of the Other World, Jakal," she explained, her low voice echoing mysteriously with an authority powerful and feminine. The man felt he should be afraid of her but somehow he knew she was benevolent. "I believe what you are seeing is my spirit. Earlier this night I saw you in a way similar to how you describe. I cannot see you in the blackness now as you do me, but my spirit is drawn to yours, allowing my body to 'see' you, even when we are not touching. We can perceive another's spirit in many different ways."

"Is this how it was with Mala?"

"It is...similar, but not the same. Mala and I had a different relationship from the one we share, so we saw one another's spirits in other ways as well."

Sala's glowing body moved toward him in slow motion. After reaching him she slipped her tongue into his mouth, kissing him deeply until his nerves vibrated, singing with the gift of her touch.

Placing her hands on his shoulders the woman pushed him back to toward the furs. "Lie with me, my Tracker," she instructed him quietly. "I wish to pleasure your body with mine."

The lush furs cradled him as he made contact with the ground. Straddling his body on her hands and knees, Sala lowered the top half of her incandescent form toward him. She rubbed her sensuous lips on his skin as she did before, only this time all over his neck and under his chin. Once again he shivered from her gentle caresses, and gasped with unexpected pleasure when she suckled an earlobe.

Lifting her head, the woman reached out and examined Jakal's arms and chest with her fingers, fondling each and every muscle, committing them to memory. Inflamed by the subtly rolling landscape of his tight figure, Sala lowered her head again to his body. 

Instead of her lips, this time she used her flattened tongue, seeking to take as much of him in, taste as much of him as possible. She licked his skin from his collarbone to below his navel and back again in long, wide strokes. Her own sex fluttering, the woman slipped her fingers between her legs and sighed, finding herself wet and swollen.

Taking his hard shaft in her hand, she slid her slit over the length of it, coating his organ with her sleek fluids as she slowly thrust herself back and forth along its underside. Luxuriating in the man's aroused grunts and gasps as her lower lips caressed his manhood in its hot, slick embrace, Sala moaned.

"Can you feel the power your body has over mine, Jakal?" she asked, her voice sultry as she slowly humped against his member. "I need only to touch your skin and your magic makes my womanhood release its essence to open me for you."

He groaned deeply. "Woman, your body makes mine weak but my manhood strong. I do not know who holds power over whom."

His reply eliciting another moan from her lips, Sala disengaged from the man's body and smoothly repositioned herself between his legs. She licked his inner thighs, feeling his muscles rippling below her. Continuing on, she gently ran her tongue over the loose skin of his sacs before gently taking them in her mouth.

Her fingers wrapped around his rigid organ, so potent that it jumped and throbbed within her grasp. His soft foreskin glided smoothly, following her fist as she stroked his shaft slowly and deliberately. Shifting her body to his side, Sala leaned over and slid him into the welcoming warmth of her mouth, taking him in further and further until her lips made contact with the curly bush at the base of his groin, taking pleasure in his moans.

The woman groaned at the sensation of his manhood's active heat, so alive and full of energy as he filled her mouth. Feeling her womanhood pulsing, she returned her hand to between her steaming legs and began pumping two of her digits inside her aching entrance. Her body trembled with desire as she felt the inside of her sex quiver. Although it was not the reason for her visit, Sala was now so aroused she took a brief detour to the stiff bud atop her folds, fondling it until she had to remove her mouth from Jakal's member so she could cry out her release.

She returned her fingers to her shuddering slit and thrust them inside herself again. With one hand guiding her she drew the man's shaft back into her mouth, and with the other she reached between his legs toward the split between his buttocks.

Body jumping from the unexpected feel of the woman's slick digits tracing the tight muscles of his rear opening, Jakal's arousal intensified from the eroticism of her simple caresses. He was nearing the brink, certain he could take no more of her amorous attentions when her finger slipped inside him. 

She touched something small and lobed within the narrow passage toward the front of his body. Curious as to what it was, Sala gently stroked it on either side with her fingertip. Suddenly he shook all over in a wave of pleasure. Noting this reaction, she continued her careful exploration of this mysterious spot. 

"Sala... Uhhh!" he moaned from deep within his chest. The swell crashed and swept him away, but it did not seem to end, as if time had slowed when he crossed the threshold, prolonging his rapturous peak.

Jakal's body jerked uncontrollably as his hot essence spurted over and over into her mouth. She continued suckling him, wishing to empty his organ completely as he quaked with the aftershocks of his release. When his body finally quieted, she slid her curvy form up his until she met his face.

The man could no longer see Sala's figure glowing in the dark, but his senses were still heightened and he had no trouble finding her. Immediately he pulled her face to his and kissed her fiercely. Stretching his mouth wide over the woman's open one, he thrust his tongue into her and desperately explored inside. She moaned, surprised and aroused by the vehemence of his passions so quickly after draining his manhood.

When he finally broke their kiss, Jakal lifted her up with his strong arms and, as he rolled onto his side, nestled her into the plush pelts covering the ground. Once she lay comfortably on her back, he crawled on top of her and resumed kissing her with ardor.

With urgency he lifted himself so that he could caress her breasts. His hands closed over them and lightly squeezed as he felt the hard nipples jutting into his palms. Lowering his head he examined them with his flattened tongue in the same way Sala used hers on him before drawing one nipple, and later the other, into his mouth. The Tracker held each one gently in his teeth, nipping them with just enough pressure to make her cry out in ecstasy.

As she had done earlier he moved to her side, and kneeling over her ran his large hands all over her body, massaging her and fixing every soft curve into his memory. Jakal then slipped between her legs, lowering himself to her fragrant womanhood, so burning and wet he could feel the heat emanating from it long before he touched her.

Legs opened wide, Sala lay completely lost in the sensations his tongue was giving her body. When she finally felt him eagerly tasting her, groaning as he explored every fold, every crevice of her smoldering sex, she was already on the verge of explosion. 

Jakal seemed to know this, and eased off just long enough to allow her to climb back down the cliff before starting again. He did this over and over until, in frustration, the woman grasped his head and pushed his face into her. She thought she could feel him chuckling for a moment against her sodden flesh, but he soon resumed his task and focused his attention on her node.

With her legs around his head Sala fell off the cliff, her groin throbbing powerfully, juices all over his mouth and chin. When she finally released him, the man noticed with some amazement that his member had risen again.

"You are right, Sala; this place holds special magic," he acknowledged. "Already my manhood is ready to be accepted into your hot depths."

"Why do you wait?" she asked, her womanhood still fluttering. "I am ready for you."

"I believe I am beginning to travel back to our world; it feels as if the Spirit World is moving away," he tried to explain. "I think there will be time for one last coupling. So I offer the choice to you. In what way would you like to join with me; in what way can I bring you pleasure in the Other World?"

Jakal could not see her but he knew Sala smiled at him in the dark. "I think I am beginning to leave this place as well." She paused. "Do you remember when your fingers entered my...back opening as if it they were your manhood?"

How could he forget it? "Of course."

"That brought me powerful pleasure in our world. Will you do it here, only this time with your manhood also instead of only your fingers?"

The man groaned at the blazing arousal her shy request ignited in him. "It would be my pleasure to pleasure you in the way you seek," he answered lustily, helping her up onto her hands and knees.

Parting Sala's legs just a little further, Jakal crouched down and opened her puffy folds. He dipped into her honeyed entrance and ran his tongue the length of her slit to her tiny organ. So engorged it stood full like a ripe berry, he began to lick it enthusiastically, feeling the nub move and slide around as he chased it with the tip of his tongue. His lips felt her wet flesh quivering as the woman cried out his name and soon he felt her pulsing against his mouth.

Dipping again between her lips, this time the man licked in the opposite direction until he reached the pursed bud of her rear passage. Spreading her buttocks to expose the hidden orifice, his tongue circled and explored the soft wrinkled skin of her musky opening. When the tip of his muscular organ breached her clenching ring Sala screamed deliriously, pressing back against him.

Jakal moved one hand to her dripping sex and stroked his digits in and out of her heat, coating them with her essence. He then pulled his face away and replaced it with his wet fingertips. When he felt Sala undulating her hips as she followed his caresses, he gently pressed his forefinger at the center of her second opening until it accepted him inside her. 

The woman moaned with pleasure as he penetrated her tight hole. As she became used to its presence he slowly inserted another, and eventually another until three digits pumped within her. Jakal raised himself onto his knees and thrust his shuddering member in and out of the moist warmth of her womanhood. Now covered with her slippery fluids, he withdrew both it and his fingers from her body and rested the head of his manhood at her back entrance.

"Relax, my woman," he said soothingly. "We will take this slowly so you feel only pleasure. Tell me if ever you feel discomfort."

"Mmm, yes," she murmured, her nipples contracted almost painfully in expectation. Sala lifted a hand to her breasts, her pulse pounding excitedly, and pressed her palm into one and then the other before pinching the stiffened tips.

The man pushed forward slowly but steadily until the constricted muscles of her entrance gave way and accepted the head of his shaft. Both groaned at the snug fit and waited for the fluttering to cease as her body adjusted to him. When he felt her muscles relaxing again he nudged forward once more. Reaching around to the nerve-filled bundle atop her sex, he rolled it between his wet fingertips to the sound of her euphoric cries.

Burning with arousal, Sala began pressing back firmly against him, moaning deeply as she pushed the rest of his engorged member inside her until she felt the heat of his body against her backside. 

"Magnificent woman," Jakal groaned as he fought to maintain control, "are your gifts endless?" 

He wrapped his body atop hers and cupped her breasts with his hands while awaiting a signal from her to begin.

"Take me," she panted, grinding her bottom against his groin.

More than willing to comply, the man withdrew slowly until only the head of his manhood remained in her narrow tunnel before thrusting back inside. With every smooth stroke their bodies shook as one, her ring gripping and massaging his thick shaft. Their skin grew sticky from perspiration as they rutted, grunting and sighing, climbing to the top together.

As Jakal tweaked her nipples, Sala screamed in ecstasy. The tight muscular band of her second passage began to pulse, squeezing his organ until he could hold on no longer. Releasing a full-body moan, he discharged his seed into her depths, and the couple shuddered uncontrollably against each other until finally they collapsed.




Intended Ch. 03







Intended Ch. 04



"I believe this would be an ideal location," Jakal proposed, pointing at the suggested path across the waterway.

"How deep is the water?" Sala asked nervously. After her last experience crossing the great river when they left their camp, she was not particularly eager to repeat it.

When her companion first revealed they would have to cross the river again in order to reach the Fox Clan's Camp, the woman found herself more than a little agitated. Why did she go through all that fear creeping her way across the turbid, rushing water, hanging on for dear life to a log, only to have to do it all over again? 

The Tracker explained the first time had been a maneuver to throw their pursuer off their trail, or at least delay him. Despite the fact neither of them heard nor saw any indication they were being followed, the man insisted on maintaining a fast pace from dawn till dusk. When they were alone with the moon and stars he kept up his guard, scanning the darkness beyond the campfire for signs of an intruder. His tension even extended to the furs, where he was unable let go long enough to share bodies with Sala after they retired for the night.

Jakal told her about the dream he had that chilly morning two days ago when they abruptly departed from the haven they occupied for five unforgettable days; he was absolutely convinced it was a warning from the Spirits to make haste because another now pursued them both. His primary concern was reaching the settlement; once they were mates, it mattered less if they were found.

Although the woman worried about him, she said nothing and followed his lead without question. She trusted him and recalled that his instincts eventually led him to her. But she drew the line when he informed her they would need to cross the river again, insisting they find a place where it was shallower or otherwise easier to pass. She would not repeat their first crossing; they had to find another way.

With his companion's parameters in mind, the Tracker kept a watchful eye for places which might prove promising. Unfortunately, Sala was not enthusiastic about any of the options he had presented so far. He indulged her, understanding her anxiety; he also felt a little guilty because his strategizing had served as the catalyst for her new fear. 

Still, it grew increasingly imperative they cross soon. They could not afford to lose time on unnecessary detours. Jakal could not rid himself of the fear they were being followed and knew he could not rest until he and Sala were joined.

As much as he sympathized with his woman's phobia, he recognized now was the time to take action.

The water actually appeared significantly shallower here, he thought. The river was wider, but less deep. He turned to her. "Wait here. I will measure it with my walking stick." 

Taking off his foot coverings and leggings, Jakal waded out into the river. Sala watched as the water grew deeper with his every step until he was up to his waist a little more than halfway to the other side. Reaching forward with his walking stick, they both watched as the top of it disappeared underneath the surface.

A sickness rose from the pit of the woman's stomach and her heart began to pound as she broke out in a cold sweat. No, no, we cannot do it here. It is too deep. We, I will be swept away, she panicked, her breath growing quick and shallow.

As he approached Jakal saw that she was overtaken by another bout of panicked fear. Realizing they would be going nowhere until they quieted her anxiety, he embraced her though his body was dripping wet.

"Calm breathing, my sweet woman," he crooned, running his large hands the length of her back as her heart thumped against his bare chest.

At last her pulse began to slow and she took her first deep, albeit jagged, breath.

When he believed she had regained control Jakal asked, "What caused your fear, Sala?"

A shudder rocked through her body and the man held her, waiting.

"When you put your stick in the water, it disappeared under the surface...It, it is too deep. We, we might get swept away."

"The river moves slowly here," he reassured her. "When we reach the deeper water close to the other side, I want you to hold onto me and I will bring us both the rest of the way. It is not as far a distance as you think."

"I...do not know, Jakal. Can we not find another way?"

"We must cross sometime, and this great river stretches beyond anything we can see. I truly believe this place is the best location to go back over to the other side."

"But..."

"Sala, have I ever lied to you?"

It was not what she expected to hear. "No," she answered honestly.

"Do you trust me?"

She nodded.

"I need you to do something for me. I need you to trust me when I say that the river runs slowly here, and that I will make sure we both reach the other side safely. I promise you this." He lifted her chin and gazed into her dark brown eyes. "Will you trust me with your life, Sala?"

Though she was still afraid, Jakal's question reminded her of what she had asked of him only a few nights before. She knew there was only one answer.

She took a full, shaky breath and nodded. "Yes, Jakal," she almost whispered, "I trust you with my life. Let us cross here."





Intended Ch. 04



She shifted under him, spreading her bent legs wide apart. "Join with my body, my brave protector."

With a groan he entered her slippery canal. As he thrust in and out of her with long fluid strokes, the woman wrapped her legs around his body, holding him close while they climbed to the top together. Just before they jumped off the edge, Jakal kissed her fiercely, locking his mouth over hers. Pushing and grinding their throbbing bodies together, their lips shared the cries of their release.

Lying side by side, Sala snuggled against the man's warm body, nestled under his arm fast asleep. Thinking about the upcoming ceremony, Jakal could not sleep despite his fatigue.

Even though he probably would not have considered joining with Sala so quickly under different circumstances, he was not unhappy to become her mate. 

She was the first woman he had shared bodies with who he was certain wanted to be with him because of himself and not because he was a Light-Eye. He knew many men envied his abundance of willing partners but the truth was, no matter how many women with whom he shared pleasures of the body, he frequently felt lonely and isolated. 

He could not bear the thought of making a sacred bond with anyone who did not know him, who could not see beyond his surface. This was why he could not bring himself to join with another before now. It had been suggested to him, directly asked of him on many occasions, but he always found excuses for saying no.

Jakal surprised even himself when he thought of the idea of joining with Sala in order to prevent the Spiritwalker from claiming her against her will. What surprised him even more was how much he desired the pairing. They had not known each other long enough...at least, not in the way they knew each other now. They reacquainted themselves with one another under unusual circumstances. Much of their bond originated from their sexual compatibility. It did not seem as though it should work.

Somehow it did; somehow, with Sala it seemed right. Perhaps it was the sacred journey they took together, he thought. Perhaps by seeing each other's spirit so clearly they learned who the other was at their very core. He knew he was drawn to what he had seen, and that she had been similarly drawn to him. In her company he could be himself. With her, he no longer felt alone.





Intended Ch. 04







Intended Ch. 05



With only the fading twilight and emerging stars lighting their way, darkness fell upon them just before the couple arrived at the settlement. The moment Sala and Jakal breached its borders, chaos erupted. 

As people ran about the Camp proclaiming their return, others streamed from dwellings and the Gathering Place, rushing forward and crowding around them. Virtually the entire Clan chattered at once. Because no one could hear their own words, they spoke ever louder until the air filled with a cacophony of voices.

"Thank the Spirits; the Light-Eyed One has returned!"

"Sala, what happened?"

"Jakal, we have been so worried!"

"Have you been healed by the Spirits, Sala?"

"I knew you would come back to us, Light-Eye; you carry great luck!"

"Where have the two of you been?"

"We appealed to the Spirits many times to bring you safely home!"

The clamoring mass surrounding them pressed ever closer. Those nearest the front stretched out their arms, one on top of the other, all of them trying to reach the wayward pair, most especially the Light-Eyed One.

Sala reached an anxious hand to the man beside her, needing the security of his touch, and found his moist from apprehension as well. She knew, they both knew, their reappearance would cause an uproar, but neither had been quite prepared for an almost frenzied reaction.

A loud, shrill whistle sliced through the air, silencing the shouting throng. Everyone turned toward the source of the piercing noise and saw Mifir standing straight and tall in front of the entrance to the Gathering Place with his mate, Keta, Leader of the Wolf Clan.

The tall, slender woman with long, curly hair streaked with gray raised her hands. Holding them out palms facing the crowd she then lowered them, calling for quiet.

"Jakal and Sala, as you can undoubtedly see for yourselves, our people are relieved you have returned to us safely. You were parted from us for a great many days and some were beginning to lose hope. I am pleased the Great Spirits guided your way home. I wish to meet with you to discuss your journey. Please join me in my dwelling as quickly as possible."

Addressing the others, she announced, "My people, I understand you seek answers. However, please keep in mind our lost friends have only just arrived from what I am sure was a very long journey. For the sake of our tired Brother and Sister, give them a respite this night to rest and recover from their travels." 

Glancing back repeatedly at Sala and Jakal, the crowd reluctantly dispersed, whispering excitedly amongst themselves about the couple's sudden return. 

Keta walked alone toward her dwelling, deep in thought. The woman had noticed the matching pendants of her Camp's wayward members almost immediately after they entered the common area. It was the main reason, out of many, that she summoned them to meet with her without delay. If any of the others had made the same observation, she was certain it would not be long before gossip and discord swept the settlement. They have much to explain, she thought with consternation.





Intended Ch. 05



Sala sighed blissfully as Jakal's lips feasted on the smooth skin of her throat, her eyes closing as she relaxed under his touch. His hands caressed her back before moving down to the full curves of her buttocks, and she gasped with unexpected delight when his fingers slipped into the split between them.

To her disappointment he broke away. Climbing into the furs, the man locked his intensely blue eyes with hers and with an inviting smile beckoned for her to join him. As she crawled onto the platform, he helped position her so that her bent legs straddled his head as he lay on his back.

Placing his large hands on her waist, Jakal pulled Sala's upright body straight down until the dewy petals of her fragrant womanhood opened before him. Closing his eyes as he drew in her intoxicating aroma, he shifted his hands to the top of her thighs and tasted her sweet nectar.

Arching her back when his tongue made contact with her swollen folds, the woman moaned softly and cupped her breasts, stimulating her nipples in the space between the thumb and forefinger of each hand.

Her breathing grew irregular as her mate nibbled and licked her trembling sex. When his tongue finally reached her button, her body bent backwards; Sala attempted to brace herself with her arms only to find them giving way. Jakal reached up his strong hands just in time, holding her arms and body upright as he brought her ever closer to the end.

"Ohhh Jakal...mmm...my love," she breathed, gently undulating her hips until her muscles stiffened and toes curled when the wave swept her away.

After regaining control of her limbs, she straightened out her body and lay on top of his, kissing him passionately. Groaning, she licked his face clean of her juices and purred as her lips and tongue grazed the line between his neck and shoulder.

The woman slid a hand between their bodies and felt the heat of his rigid manhood, lightly stroking the leaking tip with her fingers. Lifting herself up, she sheathed him with one hand and with the other she parted her lips. 

Lowering herself onto his thick organ, they moaned in concert as their bodies joined together. Propped up with her hands on either side of Jakal's head, she stared into him with half-lidded eyes, her skin flush with her need for him.

Their eyes locked together, without a word Sala gripped his shaft within her and slowly rocked her hips forward until only the head remained inside. Just as slowly she rocked back, accepting him fully again. She repeated these movements over and over until he groaned, his eyes rolled up helplessly. 

Picking up speed, the rippling muscles of her sex clasped his member, massaging his length within her steamy passage. Soon her groans matched his as she thrust her hips harder and faster, grinding herself against him. Their breaths jagged, they gasped and grunted as they lost themselves to the sensations of their communion. Suddenly interlocking their fingers, the couple reached the top and jumped off the edge together, bodies throbbing and shaking as one.





Intended Ch. 05



The Light-Eyed One spoke up again. "We are happy to hear it, Spiritwalker, for there is something we must inform you of as well. Sala and I are now joined in the sacred bond." So even if the Spirits had not told you otherwise, you still could not mate with her, he added in his head.

For a moment, he thought he saw anger blaze across the shaman's face, but the man covered it up so quickly Jakal could not be certain of what he had seen.

"That is what Keta tells me, Light-Eye," he acknowledged casually. "Perhaps the Spirits spoke to you as well. I hope only..." He paused, leaning forward as he lowered his voice. "I hope only that your mating is luckier than ours would have been; perhaps the luck of the Travelers' will bless your union."

What does he mean by that, the Clan Leader wondered. He said nothing to me about the joining between himself and the young woman being unlucky.

"Unlucky?" Keta inquired.

"I am afraid so, Clan Leader," the Spiritwalker confirmed regretfully. "As you know, the mother of Sala's mother made the mistake of trying to use powerful magic, sacred knowledge she could not possibly understand, and it cost the poor woman her life." He cast his eyes downward. "I am afraid that Sala shares more than a little of Mala's spirit within her. It would be...unwise to put the sanctity of the ancient wisdom at risk."

"You lie!" Sala shrieked as she jumped to her feet, blood rushing to the surface of her skin. "The mother of my mother did no such thing, and you know it!"

The Wolf Clan's Leader gaped in shock at her enraged outburst. "Sala!" she exclaimed. "Do you hear yourself?"

Her mate now at her side, comforting her, the young woman nodded. Voice thick with tears, she responded, "I will not stand for him speaking in such a manner about my mother's mother."

"I understand that. But such eruptions of emotion help nothing." Keta glimpsed the Spiritwalker, who gave her a sympathetic, knowing look. She waited in silence as she watched Sala, who visibly struggled to regain control as she returned to her place before the hearth. 

After a time, the older woman spoke again. "The Spiritwalker has proposed a gathering on this night, to celebrate your return to us and to reveal your sacred bond. I believe it would be advantageous to all parties if we performed the mating ceremony here. You could still wear the pendants you already possess, but it would appear less...unseemly to have your joining sanctified by our own spiritual leader."

Before his mate could react, Jakal answered, "I am sorry Keta, but I cannot agree to what you propose. Our joining is already sanctified by a Spiritwalker, and witnessed by the Great Spirits as well as our people. To pretend as though that bond does not already exist for the sake of propriety, with all respect, is an affront to our sacred union."

What has happened to the Light-Eyed One since he left us, the Leader asked herself incredulously. I have never known him to be so opinionated, so openly defiant. He seems more and more like...his mate. She was positive there was far more was going on among the three before her than they outwardly displayed. Whatever it was, all held their secrets closely.

"Light-Eye, no one is asking you to pretend you were not previously joined," the Spiritwalker calmly reassured him. "Our wise Leader is merely putting our people's best interest ahead of our personal desires."

"No," Sala refused. "I am sorry, Keta, but we will not do it. It was a great honor to be bonded at Fox Camp. If you wish to celebrate our return, do so, but we will not be bonded again, even if it is only symbolically." She glanced at the spiritual leader and thought she noticed his eyes flare at the indirect reference to the Fox Clan's Spiritwalker.

Looking at Keta with an understanding smile, the shaman stated soothingly, "I think it is clear to all, Clan Leader, that the young couple will not follow your sage counsel. If you make the suggestion for my benefit, I assure you it is not necessary. As I explained earlier, I knew long before their arrival that a mating between myself and the young woman would be ill-advised.

"Perhaps they would not be opposed to a...minor ritual at tonight's celebration, something that might allow our people to share in their joy without sullying the memory of the original ceremony?"

"What have you in mind?" Jakal asked, suspicious the man was brewing a nefarious scheme.

"Oh, I am not certain," he replied nonchalantly. "I will need time to consult with the Spirits and recall the ancient wisdom to discover the most appropriate rite for an event of this nature."

"Sala, Jakal? Can you at least agree to this?"

The two looked into the sober eyes of their Leader, and recognized she had reached the limit of what she was willing to allow them to refuse. They turned their eyes toward each other in confirmation before redirecting their attention back to her.

"Splendid!" The Spiritwalker reacted so delightedly to their agreement that even their host questioned his enthusiasm. "As that is now settled, if you will excuse me, I have preparations to make." He stood up and addressed the Clan Leader. "The celebration will begin tonight, after the sun drops from the sky. I will inform the others; the three of you need only to arrive at the Gathering Place at the appointed time. Good day."

The couple also rose to depart when Keta stopped them. "Jakal, Sala, anyone with eyes can see something flows beneath the surface between yourselves and our spiritual leader. Will you not speak of it to me?"

The young woman faltered. "I, I simply do not approve of him disparaging Mala's memory in such a way."

"And you are certain this is all which troubles you? I sensed the tension between you and him long before he ever mentioned the mother of your mother."

"Keta, perhaps the Spiritwalker only brought up Mala once in this particular conversation. However, do not forget he first made such a claim many years ago, right after her death," the Tracker pointed out. "It is difficult to forget such an assertion, even after all this time."

The Clan Leader pursed her lips and nodded tersely. She knew they still withheld the full truth, but it was obvious she would get no more from them at this time.





Intended Ch. 06



Author's Note: The end of this chapter contains a passage describing a sexual encounter which, though consensual, some readers may find disturbing or offensive. Please do not read further, or stop reading after page 3, if you are offended by depictions of brutish sex acts.





Intended Ch. 06



"After that incident, and the humble way he acknowledged I had bested him, suddenly the drive to prove myself better than the man lost its appeal. I accepted my position as his subordinate and grew to admire him a great deal. Even if he did not possess the same proclivity for tracking as I did, he was nonetheless quite skilled. 

"When we were at the river and the Spirits warned me in the dream, all I could think of was putting as much space between us and him as possible. When I thought of crossing the river using the log, and then hiking through the forest to throw him off some more, I suddenly experienced that same rush I did all those years ago, the determination that not only was I going to beat him, but in the end he would feel foolish falling for the same old tricks. Only this time, I was not there to rescue him. And Sedon may have died because I had to prove just one more time that I was superior."

Sala reached out her hand, resting her palm on the tight muscles of his clenched jaw.

"I think I understand now why you believe you must do this without me," she responded softly. "You made those choices back at the river to protect me, but you also recall making similar decisions when your motives were less altruistic; in that context I think I can understand why you might be feeling conflicted about your actions right now."

He nodded. "I do not regret doing what was necessary to protect you, Sala. I just...I just wish I had apologized to Sedon for what I did to him years ago, that I had truly thanked him for his patience and given him the respect he deserved. 

"I told you before that I do not think being a Light-Eyed One makes me special, that I never wanted the privileges my status provides me. But the truth is, whenever it has suited me I have taken advantage of what people imagined me to be. I did it just recently when I traded for your bonding tunic. I have done these kinds of things my whole life, all the while thinking I was so enlightened to recognize the mass delusion held by the others. But in the end, it was I who was deluded."

"Jakal..." Sala protested, caressing his face. "Do not do this to yourself, my mate. You are grieving, and it is natural to experience regret, especially when the loss is so unexpected.

"You chastise yourself for occasionally using your status as a Light-Eye to gain certain advantages. I ask you, what person does not employ the resources available to them in order to accomplish similar goals? Your choices do not make you worse than anyone else, my love; they simply make you human."





Intended Ch. 06







Intended Ch. 07



The Hunters wove through the settlement, reminding everyone about the upcoming expedition to the lake. Though small parties traveled there frequently, catching what they could for personal use, the Wolf Clan's annual fish "hunt" consistently drew nearly all of the Camp's residents.

Even with the great amount of work it demanded -- catching, cleaning, preparing and then hauling home the bounty -- a celebratory quality surrounded the informal outdoor gathering. Entire families participated; the Clan's Storytellers and Musicians came along as well, sometimes combining their talents into a single narrative, filling the imaginations and dreams of the audience as they assembled under the endless blanket of stars.

Assuming they embarked shortly after the first meal, the group would arrive at the lake well before midmorning. It was not a long distance away at all, which was part of the reason why people of all ages joined in, but the journey was lengthy enough to warrant staying overnight until they completed their task. Barring any unseen difficulties, most typically returned on the fourth day.

Other than what they enjoyed there, they dried everything before carrying it home; despite the contribution of many, harvesting enough to help support the Camp through the upcoming winter remained an enormous undertaking. Only drying the fish made it possible to bring back what they needed.

Veba overhead Sala and Jakal discussing the event with their friends, confirming that they would be attending. When she reported this information to the Spiritwalker, to her relief he insisted she do the same. Even though she had taken part in years past without exception, for some reason she had worried he might forbid her from going this time around. 

She felt strangely ambivalent. On the one hand she looked forward to a respite from his ferocious hunger and was not disappointed that he would not be accompanying them. Since their first night together he never allowed her body to fully recover; more to the point, he did not allow her to recover at all. 

On the other hand she was going to miss him, or at least whatever it was he wrenched out of her whenever he took possession of her body. The vigorousness of their encounters coupled with the covert nature of their association formed a potent, intoxicating combination.

If she had her choice, however, Veba still would pick the Tracker over the Spiritwalker in an instant. She hoped the excursion would provide the means to work toward repairing the rift between Jakal and herself without the spiritual leader's knowledge; if she could just engage the Light-Eye on friendly terms once more, there was always the chance that someday... 

While he did not leave the Ceremonial Hut often, the shaman seemed hyperaware of her activities; attaining her own goals would be more feasible with four days free from his watchful eyes. Veba knew she was taking an incredible risk trying to accomplish his aims along with hers, but if there was ever a perfect opportunity to attempt it, it would be now.

Although the gathering at the lake presented the ideal circumstances for observing the couple in a more relaxed setting, in the end the Spiritwalker decided to leave the task in the hands of his new spy. She had learned quickly; naturally it required breaking her -- one of his favorite aspects of this process -- but she also bent to his will readily, enthusiastically even at times. She almost made it too easy.

Of course she still hesitated or held back occasionally, necessitating the use of swift, punitive correction, but by and large the woman was a fervid pupil. She ignited in him a lust so powerful that he found himself neither willing nor able to restrain himself enough to grant her body rest. She had become so sore, bruised and raw from the intensity of his passions he eventually had no choice but to treat her many wounds to keep them from festering. A brief separation would allow the injuries to heal a bit, keeping her fresh and eager to do his bidding.

Besides, every year the Spiritwalker took advantage of the absence of virtually the entire Clan to investigate their dwellings, to see what kinds of secrets he could uncover. The fish hunt was such a popular event that those who stayed behind typically did so only because they were too sick or frail to travel, and the shaman was more than happy to remain in order to attend to their needs. 

Controlling them was almost effortless since he regularly administered substances which made them more malleable; the information they supplied him often proved quite useful. If for any reason they gave him too much difficulty he merely put them to sleep, and although no one so far had forced his hand, he always knew that he could make them sleep permanently if necessary. The freedom the annual gathering afforded him back at the Camp invigorated him, becoming a kind of celebration in itself.

But most of all he believed that in his absence, the Light-Eye and his mate would let down their guard, and in so doing they would reveal their weaknesses. Before everyone left for the lake, he would ensure the female understood very clearly what he expected of her when she returned, and what the consequences would be should she fail him.





Intended Ch. 07



"Harder, yes, do it! Jakal, do it!" Sala demanded, her hands gripping his shoulders forcefully, nostrils flaring like a woman overtaken by an errant spirit as she rose to her toes, grinding and driving this nameless, awesome instrument, harder than anything inside her before, further into her fiery depths.

His blue eyes blazing with lust as he held her gaze captive, his thrusts picked up speed, pressing the side of the ridged shaft firmly against that swollen place, increasing the friction as he rubbed it in tight circles on each inward journey, plunging and withdrawing, plunging and withdrawing again and again.

Sala's eyes rolled up as they fluttered closed, her body beginning to submit as the first mighty convulsion ripped through her. Both hands dropped loosely to her sides, the tree trunk and one of Jakal's arms alone propping her up. All she could do was grunt as she spasmed over and over; then everything went black.

When the woman came to she discovered to her amazement that she still stood, her body hot and trickling with sweat. She opened her eyes to find her mate looking at her lovingly as he continued, albeit slower and more gently now, sliding the object in and out of her sopping canal.

"I take it the answer to my question is yes?" he speculated, leaning forward to kiss her.

"Yes?" she echoed, completely confused.

"I had asked you if you liked how this," he withdrew the item in question, "rubbed the special place inside your womanhood."

Sala shifted her eyes to the carving, glistening with her copious fluids which covered the hand holding it in front of her.

"Is that...?"

He nodded slowly, giving her a sly smile.

An aftershock quaked through her body, remembering the ecstasy it had, he had bestowed upon her. She then placed her palm on top of the lump which burned beneath his leggings, caressing him through the soft leather.

"I believe someone is in need of relief," she teased, her voice low as her fingertips tickled the surface.

Slowly gliding her hands from his crotch to the waist of his garment, Sala untied the thong, skimming his skin as she drew the leather unhurriedly down his legs, inducing a groan for the way she tormented him.

As she kneeled, his trembling organ jutted out before her, its tip slippery with his essence. Encircling it with her hand, she gasped at its size and the incredible heat it produced; his manhood was nearly as rigid as the carving, but far thicker and magnificently alive. The woman eagerly guided it between her lips.

"Ahhh. Oh Sala," Jakal moaned as a shudder danced up his spine and out through his limbs.

The warmth of his throbbing member filling her mouth, she took him deeper and deeper with every stroke until her nose made contact with his pubic hair. Her lungs inhaled fully the scent of his personal maleness and she sighed with contentment. The hum of her expiration reverberated against his manhood and he moaned again, his body quaking helplessly.

"Uhhh, you wild, wondrous woman..." he cried out, dropping the carving to the ground as his large hands descended upon her head, running his fingers through her silky hair.

Withdrawing him from her mouth she flattened her tongue and, lifting his tool, licked him from base to tip before swirling it around and around the nearly-bursting head. Lost in the sensations flowing through him, the man undulated his hips instinctively as she brought him ever closer toward the pinnacle.

Nudging his legs apart so he that stood with a wider stance, Sala crouched beneath him and, gently lifting his sacs, traced a line between them and the clenched muscles of his rear opening with the tip of her tongue. As she worked it back and forth Jakal shook with pleasure, certain he would lose control. With the final pass her tongue remained at the pursed bud and started circling the wrinkled skin as she parted his buttocks to allow her freer access. 

Though he had given such gifts to his partners many times before, his mate was the first to explore him in this manner, and at last he understood why his lovers had writhed beneath him, screaming as his tongue probed the entrance to their secret passage. His muscles quivered and he found it increasingly difficult to stand, but he did not wish to ask her to stop.

As if she could understand his dilemma Sala crawled out from under him and, taking his hands, she brought him to his hands and knees before resuming her task. As the orifice grew slick from her saliva, she began experimenting with breaching its border, finding it ever easier to penetrate.

While her tongue prodded the musky hole she felt his body tensing as he moaned wordlessly. Aware he approached the cliff she reached around and wrapped her fist around his hot shaft. Holding it firmly in her grasp she stroked him, the smooth foreskin adding to the lusciousness of her soft hand sliding back and forth as she burrowed into his narrow opening.

Letting go, Jakal unleashed a groan from deep within, his manhood lurching as it shot its stream into the ground beneath him again and again, his ring pulsating around her tongue.

Veba froze, convinced the moan escaping her lips had exposed her as she hid in the bushes nearby, her tunic hiked above her waist as her fingers played desperately with her aching nub. Her womanhood pounded, inflamed from her most recent whipping, but her arousal was simply too strong to resist plunging her fingers deeply inside herself while she massaged her wet button.

After a few tense moments, holding her breath, she relaxed once she recognized they were so intent on their own activities they had not noticed her and went on manipulating her node. She almost could not believe what she was seeing; Sala was not only orally pleasuring the Light-Eyed One's back opening, she was clearly enjoying it herself. The woman observed the other female's exposed folds, swollen and dripping as she probed her lover.

Despite the fact that she herself found receiving such stimulation highly gratifying, Veba had always refused to reciprocate. She could not bring herself to do it and privately feared that the Spiritwalker would learn of her discomfort for that particular act, thereby demanding it of her. The man seemed to derive the greatest satisfaction from imposing upon her the very things about which she felt most reluctant. How he unearthed such secrets she did not know, but he managed to do so over and over; in the end it was probably only a matter of time before he discovered this one as well.

Still, both the woman's and the Light-Eye's reaction to this communion flooded her body with desire, and before she knew it she was twisting her tender lips and squeezing her hardened bud. Ever since the first night with the Spiritwalker Veba found that even when she was alone she craved pain in order to achieve release, and today was no exception.

With some effort she managed to pull one of her heavy breasts out of the top of her tunic. Using her free hand, she pinched her nipple as hard as she could without eliciting a scream and soon she began to buck when she finally reached her peak.

Seeing them staggering to their feet, the woman panicked as she realized she probably should not have observed them from so close. As there was no time to situate herself properly she fled into the woods with one breast dangling outside her garment, pleading with the Great Spirits that the Tracker would not notice she had been there.

The Spirits did not answer her call, for as the two mates hiked toward the trail the man stopped, his nose detecting just the slightest hint of...something. Crouching down next to a clump of bushes, he noted the trampled grass and the partial imprint of a body.

"What is it?" Sala asked.

"Someone was here, recently, and after we arrived," he told her, looking into her worried face.

"Was it...?" She was too afraid to finish the question, the thought of the shaman spying upon their lovemaking more than a little disturbing.

"I do not think so. The impression in the grass is too small; also, the footprints are not large, and do not sink deeply into the ground. The Spiritwalker is not an extremely large man, but he is certainly much bigger and heavier than the signs left here." Jakal sniffed again, and then it hit him as he suddenly identified the fading traces of the familiar scent. "It was a woman," he informed her. "And I...I think she was aroused."

Sala started laughing, highly amused. "I wonder who it was?"

"Well, she headed off this way." He pointed to the fresh path leading off the main trail. "Should we go hunt her down?" His tone was playful.

"No," she giggled. "I am sure she ran because she did not want the embarrassment of being caught." Her mind drifted to her own recent experience of being the watcher; although Belak had not minded, she remembered how horrified she felt at that moment when he first discovered her staring at him and his mate while they joined bodies.

Smiling, Jakal kissed her. Putting his arm around her waist he said, "Come, my beautiful Sala. Let us instead go wash your new carving in the stream, and then we shall find your friends."





Intended Ch. 07



"Of course, please."

"You must stop telling yourself your fear makes you weak. It takes incredible courage to face that which makes us afraid, and even more so when it is something so frightening it paralyzes both body and spirit. We all have our weaknesses, Sala, and it makes you strong, not weak, simply by your willingness to confront yours." Nira leaned over and spoke softly in her ear. "And considering that you even came back to our Camp, after everything you have been through, makes you perhaps one of the strongest among us all." 

Jakal had been enjoying the conversation with his friends so much that he did not realize the fullness of his bladder until he started to become uncomfortable. Excusing himself, he hurriedly passed through the camp on his way to relieve himself when he was suddenly accosted by Veba.

"Hello, Jakal! It is good to see you this night, Light-Eyed One," she greeted brightly, speaking rapidly as she gave him a friendly smile. 

The man thought her geniality a bit unusual considering the outcome of their last encounter. "Hello, Veba."

"It is such a beautiful night for a gathering, do you not agree?"

"Yes, it is a very pleasant evening."

"Are you and your mate enjoying yourselves?"

"Yes, we are. Veba, is there something I can do for you?" he asked abruptly. Jakal did not wish to be rude, but as the pressure on his bladder grew, so did his discomfort. Given the circumstances, he was not in the mood for small talk.

"N-no, I just wanted to say hello," she replied, flustered.

"Oh. Well, I thank you for your greeting, but I am afraid there is something I really must do right now. Perhaps we can talk again later. If you will excuse me."

Why is the Light-Eye still so angry, the woman wondered as she watched him practically running away from her. What does he expect me to do? I said nothing to offend him. I even mentioned his mate, she thought in frustration. She reminded herself to be patient. I cannot expect him to warm up to me immediately.

Perhaps I need to try a different approach; do something nice, show him that I hold no ill will, that I wish us to be friends again. I know; I will prepare a dish for him. I will even be extra friendly to Sala, make it seem like I made it for them both. That will prove to him I am sincere.





Intended Ch. 08



CRR-ACKKK!

BOOOOMMM!

Although it had been storming endlessly for ten days, the sky-splitting sight and sound of lightning and thunder continued to wrench screams from the shivering mass huddled in the Gathering Place.

As the most solidly-built structure in the settlement, it was the only building which had been able to withstand nature's merciless assault. When it stopped raining -- if it stopped raining -- the Clan would have to completely rebuild. With winter coming, their supplies largely washed away, how were their people going to survive?

"Clan Leader! Everyone!" someone screeched from outside. "RUUUNNN!"

Rushing to the flap shielding them from the nightmare which had become their world, they lifted the hide and saw to their horror a massive wave of liquid earth rolling toward them at great speed. Once-mighty trees churned in splinters while enormous stones tossed around as tiny pebbles, all of them victims of the saturated ground roiling violently down the hill.

With terrified shrieks the people mobbed the entryway, frantic to escape, but in their panic few managed to squeeze their way out, the opening plugged with struggling bodies. Ultimately, it did not matter, for an instant later the mudslide swallowed the Camp and everything in it before continuing on its destructive course.

With a jolt the old woman sat up in the cold dark, heart racing.

Placing a trembling hand on her chest, she took a deep breath, trying to slow her pulse. Having calmed her body sufficiently to move, she rose from the furs on legs shaky from age and distress, coaxing a fresh flame from the banked fire in the hearth before hanging a pot over it for tea. It would still be quite some time before the sun returned, but the Spiritwalker knew that, like the two previous nights, she would be getting no more sleep.





Intended Ch. 08



"I cannot say I have," she answered honestly. "But even if I did, it is not like after training that we would ever work together like Asra and Lomal do."

"I have been thinking about that lately. Everyone with a chosen skill which requires travel always goes with at least one other person -- everyone except for Trackers. I cannot help but wonder if Sedon had not been alone things might have turned out differently.

"Horse Clan is one of the smaller Camps, so they need only two Traders, but our Camp is large enough that we have five. I do not see why we could not have three or four Trackers, so that no one has to journey alone, at least on longer missions. I have been considering speaking to Keta about this matter. Molek approached me about his interest in becoming a Tracker, but before I mentioned it to our Clan Leader, I wanted to see if I might provide her with two names."

"Jakal, you should keep in mind that I was highly motivated not to be caught; I am not certain if that is the same as having an instinct for tracking."

"Actually, that is precisely why I believe you possess a talent for it. You did not have the luxury of pondering your decisions. You quickly assessed the options available to you and acted, and those choices thwarted me for five days. If you could manage that under such stressful conditions, I am confident we could hone those instincts to work in the 'opposite' direction; you have the potential to become an exceptional Tracker, Sala."

The mention of Sala's flight caused her mind to drift back to their time together at their secret haven by the great river. Admittedly, it was far to travel, but she did so hope to return there someday. The sacred magic growing in that place seemed to cast its enchantment over the entire area. She smiled at the memory.

Sala imagined roaming the backcountry, led only by the clues left behind by the one being trailed, sounded like an intriguing puzzle. She could see why Jakal found the work fulfilling, and the thought of uncovering such mysteries by his side did hold a certain appeal. 

After a time, thinking, she finally spoke. "You know, if I do this, we will not be able to camp for days on end or Keta will never allow us to work on the same mission again."

She said it so seriously it took a moment for her statement to sink in. Once Jakal recognized she was teasing him about their long stay at the river he returned, "Well, it is a great sacrifice, but I suppose for the good of our people we will have to make due with having our fun after we set up camp for the night."

"If that is the case, then perhaps we should start working on getting it out of our system now, so it will not be so difficult later." Sala reached up and, pulling his head toward hers, kissed him, lazily searching his mouth with her tongue.

"I like the way you think, woman," her mate complimented after they broke the kiss. "I look forward to working with you."

Their lips shared a smile over the man's double meaning. Soon their kiss grew deeper, more insistent as their tongues met, twirling around its counterpart while they both moaned, filled with desire for one another.

Jakal lowered Sala onto her back, kissing her all the while. Lying on top of her, he shifted his attention to her jaw and throat, enjoying the taste of her lightly salty skin.

He groaned. "Oh Sala, I never thought I could ever love someone as much as I love you," he confessed, voice full of emotion as he buried his face into her neck.

Feeling her chest shudder, the man heard her say, her own voice quivering, "And I thought I was all alone in the world, until you, my beloved." She wrapped ringlets of his long hair around her fingers; Jakal had been wearing it loose more often ever since Sala expressed the pleasure it gave her to run her hands through its finely-textured, wavy length.

Lifting his head to gaze upon her again, his dark hair formed a curtain enclosing them together, away from the outside world. He saw the wet trail down each side of her face where tears had escaped the corners of her eyes. Gently kissing the streaks dry he then pressed his lips over each eyelid, amazed by the softness of every part of her flawless body.

After exploring her features with his hands and mouth for a time, the man coaxed his mate to lift her body so that he could remove her tunic. Peeling it over her head, he brought the warm bundle of leather to his nose and inhaled deeply, luxuriating in the heady essence of her female form before laying it to the side and returning to the source of the intoxicating scent.

Her eyes half-closed, Sala smiled at her man dreamily. Releasing the knot from his leggings, she assisted him in sliding the garment down his hips and thighs. Jakal took it from there, and after pulling them off the rest of way he settled his body back onto hers, the heat of her womanhood burning against his abdomen.

Clutching at his sinewy back, massaging the rippling expanse, Sala pressed her breasts against the mouth and fingers swirling her erect nipples. Memorizing every tiny bump and wrinkle, the Light-Eye's throat rumbled as he dabbed his pointed tongue in the minute split at the tip of the tight dusky nub between his lips. When she again arched up to meet him, he took both mounds within his hands, delighting in the way their shape fit into his palms, as if their bodies had been created to join together perfectly.

Sinuating her hips beneath him, Jakal felt the slickness of Sala's arousal wetting his skin; groaning, he gave each breast a final caress with his tongue before lowering himself to attend to her place of need, her perfume leading him to his destination.

Her legs lay apart tensely as she panted in barely audible mews, anticipating his touch. His slid his hands under the silky curves of her backside, raising her dewy petals to his lips before dipping in to taste her nectar.

"Ohhh... Oh, Jakal," she moaned helplessly, closing her eyes. 

Shivering as he savored the sensitive landscape of her aching sex, Sala cupped her own breasts, slowly kneading the nipples in circles with her thumbs in time with the languid strokes of his tongue. Her stomach fluttered when the muscular organ's nubby surface encircled her swollen node for the first time and she gasped; no matter how many times he pleasured her in this manner, she could never quite prepare herself for the intensity of the sensations which overtook her with that initial caress.

Gently wrapping his lips around her engorged button, Jakal generously bathed it with his tongue before concentrating his efforts along the perimeter where it peeked above the surrounding skin, like a tiny bud breaking through the soil. The fluid flowing from her womanhood ran down her slit into the split between her buttocks as he stimulated the nerve bundle with greater speed. Pushing herself against his feasting mouth, Sala began to cry out, her soaked flesh palpitating in relief.

After coaxing one more peak from his woman, the Light-Eyed One carefully lowered her bottom back onto the hide, filling her sleek passage with his hot, rigid tool in one slow, delicious thrust as his body descended upon hers once more. Their hips grinding in unison, they stared into each other's eyes, watching the rising rapture they shared reflected in their mate's face as their breathing grew both heavy and shallow.

The wave imminent, ecstasy flooding Sala's body as she held his gaze, Jakal suddenly revealed to her the naked core of his spirit. She had no words which could adequately describe what he exposed to her that moment, only that she felt the vulnerability inherent with this rarest of gifts. Somehow she understood he had just opened a part of himself that he had shown to no one else before. Overwhelmed by the trust he displayed, allowing her to see him fully, beyond even that of the night they spent together in the Spirit World, her eyes pooled with tears.

"My love, my love... Uhhh..." she choked, quaking all over as she wept and crested simultaneously.

Kissing her entire face, Jakal's own tears rained onto his woman's cheeks, the product of their powerful emotions mingling on her skin as their joined bodies jerked and throbbed as one.

They were not the only ones crying.

Veba sat hidden in the tall grass, not far from the two lovers. Her legs splayed open, she stopped self-pleasuring though her swollen sex leaked, begging for release; it was simply too painful, both physically and emotionally, to continue on. The burns on her inner thighs pulsated, weeping their own fluid; as soon as the woman could get away she needed to return to her dwelling to bathe the area with more of the soothing liquid and drink another dose of the pain-numbing tea. It was past time to do so but she had found herself unable to leave as the she watched the couple sharing bodies.

Even at the distance from which she sat, it was not difficult to recognize the significance of what had passed between them. Veba envied the extent of Jakal's devotion and felt cheated. For the first time she understood that even if she somehow managed to touch him so intimately again, he could never give to her, or anyone else, what she had just witnessed him giving to his mate; Sala alone held within her the secret of his heart. And though it only increased her suffering, she could not help resenting the happiness they shared, the happiness that she herself had been so denied.





Intended Ch. 08



Four days had passed since the Spiritwalker commenced with a continuous, desperate appeal to the Great Spirits for merciful rain. His body blanketed with inflamed, itching wounds of the minuscule pestilence plaguing them all, women took turns watching over him, periodically squeezing trickles of water between his dry, cracked lips with absorbent skins dipped in bowls of the life-sustaining liquid as his once wailing pleads slowly weakened into a monotonous drone.

A puff of cool air caressed their dusty skin, the sensation so unexpected that even the Spiritwalker ceased chanting to look into the shrunken eyes of his equally-startled companions.

"Spiritwalker, look! A CLOUD!" someone shouted.

Rousing themselves, the people crept from the confines of their suffocating dwellings, their Brother's jubilant cry the sole reason important enough to warrant expending precious energy. Peering in the direction of the man's pointing finger, they felt another brief gust, this one strong enough to tousle their tangled hair, as their eyes focused upon an immense, unbroken cloud approaching in the distance. Even taller than it was wide, angry bolts of lightning sliced out its dark, billowing base, slashing the torrid sky, followed a few moments later by earth-shaking rolls of thunder.

Normally such an intimidating spectacle would have sent the people fleeing into the safety of their dwellings, huddling together until nature's fury left them in peace. But the promise of rain -- beautiful, blessed, life-giving rain -- rooted them all where they stood, waiting. Waiting and begging for relief.

As if it were a Tracker honing in on its target, the towering cloud raced across the crackling air toward their position. But as it cast its shadow over the Camp, all at once the people realized something was wrong. Though the land briefly illuminated by jagged flashes of lightning shivered with every thunderclap, they had yet to see or feel a single drop of rain. Just as they decided to seek shelter, suddenly overcome by a collective sense of dread, the largest streak of fire any of them had ever seen filled the sky with an otherworldly glow, lashing the mighty tree next to the Gathering Place with its curling tip while the ground rocked with a deafening boom.

Bursting into flames like a giant torch, the wind flung blazing fragments of its brittle tinder, setting alight everything within its grasp. Fire swept through the settlement as the people shrieked in terror, scrambling to escape the nightmare which had become their world. One after one they succumbed, falling with a thump to the ground, overtaken by smoke, heat or the flames itself. 

A few managed to reach the muddy banks of the feeble stream, but so little water flowed now it was not even deep enough to cover their toes. Still, they were met there by wave after wave of deer, rabbits, squirrels, snakes and other wingless creatures, as an unbelievable mass of birds took to the air, most of them dropping dead mid-flight, unable to break through the smoky cloud, joining their land-bound cousins in a vast, blackened grave.

The Spiritwalker was one of the last among those left at the stream, person or beast, still standing. Falling to his knees, body too dehydrated to spend tears, the man lamented the destruction of his people's home, imploring the Great Spirits to take his life; he could bear no longer the loss of everyone and everything he had ever held dear. Tearing the amulet from around his neck, he flung the talisman of the Spiritwalkers with the last of his strength, but in his weakened condition it landed heavily in the mud encasing his now-lifeless body, the wolf etched in the ivory the solitary witness to the fall of a once-great people.

With a choking gasp, the Spiritwalker's eyes flashed open. After taking a moment to confirm that she could indeed breathe, the old woman swung her legs over the edge of the platform, her tiny wrinkled feet making contact with the mats covering the floor. Grabbing a fresh tunic, she slid the soft beaded leather over her body. She did not bother with combing her disarrayed locks; she had more important things to worry about than matters of personal vanity.

The Spiritwalker groped for the amulet hanging from her neck, only to discover, once again, it was missing. She had not realized how often she reached for its comforting presence until recently, after she had bestowed the talisman of the Spiritwalkers to the young woman of Wolf Clan. But as much as she missed the security of its protection, she believed now more than ever that giving it to Sala had been the correct decision.

Lifting the flap, the old woman exited her dwelling, padding on bare feet across the Camp in the cool, damp gray of predawn. Arriving at her destination, she took the bones hanging in front of the entryway in both hands. Listening to the sawing snores of slumber, she paused; perhaps she should try calling inside before thwacking the bones. It might be less startling.

"Tejed. Tejed, wake up," she crooned, her voice a harsh whisper.

She heard a snort, and then the muffled sounds of someone large rolling over before the heavy breathing resumed.

"Tejed!" she called, more sharply this time, only for the man to respond by snoring even louder. Well, she had tried.

Thwack!

Snerk! "Wha-huh? Ai! Ai; who calls?"

"I do," the Spiritwalker replied, straining to keep her voice low as the rest of the Camp slept. "Tejed, I must speak with you at once."

She felt the ground thump as the lumbering Clan Leader stumbled from his sleeping platform. After a few moments the hide flap thrust open, the sleepy man peering down at the ancient, almost child-sized woman impatiently awaiting his invitation.

"Good. I am glad to see I need not apologize for not combing my hair first," he mumbled with a wry smile, lifting the sheet of leather so that she could pass through.

Gesturing for her to sit, Tejed added kindling to the banked fire, its light adding to the dim glow provided by the stone lamps he had already lit. Setting a waterskin pot over the flames, he yawned, asking, "So how can I help you this fine morning?"

Ignoring the man's irreverent greeting, the Spiritwalker said instead, "You know the recurring dreams about the unknown Clan I have been having every night for the past four days?"

"Of course." The great man feared few things, but even he thanked the Spirits he had not been plagued by the visions visited upon the old woman in recent days. To watch an entire Clan repeatedly annihilated by water or fire, even if it was not one's own, was beyond a Leader's worst nightmare.

"On this last night, the Spirits revealed to me where the danger lies."

Tejed felt an increased sense of foreboding. Before he could voice his dread, she continued.

"I must send our Trackers and swiftest runners to the other settlements, have them summon the rest of my caste to meet me at Wolf Clan's Camp."

"Wolf Clan? Meet you?" he inquired, more than a little startled.

"Yes," she confirmed, answering both questions. "I am needed there also. As you are well aware, I cannot complete the journey unaided. I will need several of your strongest men to transport me most of the way."

"That can be arranged," the Clan Leader responded, more confused than ever. He paused. "Spiritwalker, I do not understand how drought and flood could destroy Keta's people. They live many days' distance from us, but not so far that we ourselves would be unaffected by such extreme conditions."

"I concur; I believe the danger to Wolf Clan has little to do with forces of nature. I am certain the disasters in these dreams are symbols for the actual threat."

"Did the Great Spirits reveal to you the true nature of this threat?"

She hesitated. "I believe it involves our two recent visitors, Sala and Jakal...and their Clan's Spiritwalker."

"I do not understand how this can be," Tejed confessed, completely perplexed. "My instincts told me the young couple were hiding something from us, but I detected no malice. Why would they wish to harm their people's spiritual leader?"

The old woman did not answer at first. The Leader's astute observations treaded uncomfortably close to accusations she was not yet ready to make public. "The threat does not originate from the Light-Eye and his mate," she began slowly. "The threat is to them."

She noted the man's stunned, bewildered expression. Just as he opened his mouth to ask more questions, the Spiritwalker stated, "That is all I can tell you at this time, Tejed, and I must ask you to keep what I have said in the strictest of confidence."

As an individual who possessed the ability to discern the hidden meanings behind people's words, Tejed found the deliberate secretiveness of her caste maddening at times. Most people were unaware of the clues they gave away in their attempts to obscure the truth, but among the Spiritwalkers obscurity was a way of life, and they were largely quite skilled at preventing things from filtering through without their knowledge. He was fortunate, however; the old woman was far more open with him than others of her status were with his counterparts. His duties kept him much too busy to delve deeply into the esoteric, but virtually without exception he had found her willing to discuss any subject at length. 

He did not like that she was holding back information, especially since this issue seemed to cross from the spiritual and into matters of his own rank's purview. But he also knew her well enough, trusted her enough, to understand she would not depart from her usual candor without a compelling reason. He would persuade her to provide him more details later. Briefly furrowing his brow, the Clan Leader tersely nodded. "Very well."

"It is extremely important that I embark on this day. Even now I fear it may be too late."

"And you shall. However, if great danger awaits at Keta's Camp, I am not about to send you, or any of my people, into such peril alone," Tejed informed her gravely. "We shall leave on this day, Spiritwalker. I am coming with you."





Intended Ch. 09



The sky a red, hazy blur, Sala's head pounded painfully as she strained to open her eyes. Her body throbbed in agony, most especially her left leg. The shooting pain in her thigh was localized though, somehow sharper than the rest. What was wrong with her? Where was she? Why could she not remember?

As she attempted to clutch protectively at her ailing body, she discovered to her great alarm that she could not move her arms. Moreover, she could feel from the ground below her and see, barely, from the sky above her she traveled in a forward direction. But that was impossible because she was lying on her back.

Trying to concentrate through a thick fog, the young woman struggled to reconcile these inconsistencies as she endeavored to gain control of her immobile limbs. Finding both efforts futile, she set her sights to a smaller goal. What could she remember?

The woods. Mushrooms. Laughter.

Jakal.





Intended Ch. 09



Although the weapon he held in his hands caused plenty of damage, the Spiritwalker wanted the gratification of feeling her flesh cleave under his. He switched to his fists, pounding her with all his fury, spittle flying from his mouth as again and again he bloodied her face until she could barely see, her eyelids puffed up so that only slits remained.

The young woman stopped struggling, though it took a time before his rage subsided enough for him to recognize that she had lost consciousness. After one last kick to the side, the shaman yanked her limp body up by the hair, snapping the thong of Sala's bonding pendant as he slung her around his shoulders. With some effort he squatted briefly, picking up the shaft of his broken spear. Throwing the main section of the now-useless tip deep into the forest, he kicked away the remaining shards under the dense foliage, and angrily stomped back to the place where he had left his clothing and pack.

"You think you have suffered, Intended," the Spiritwalker whispered in the ear of the woman wrapped limply around him, gritting his teeth as his swollen sacs throbbed painfully. "Just wait until I dump you in the lake. As you sink to the bottom because of your own pathetic weakness, you will finally understand killing you now would have been a merciful death."





Intended Ch. 09



As the late afternoon sun crept toward the place where the land met the sky, the shaman cursed the woman for forcing him to lose his temper. By now he had expected them to be only a short distance from their destination, but at the rate they were going it would be nearly dark before they arrived.

He was loath to admit it, but he also cursed his own shortsightedness. He had been so confident about his success he failed to consider a backup plan for disposing of the female's body. At this point he would have been satisfied with simply dumping her into an open pit and burying her alive, but he had no tools adequate for digging a hole of that size. The thick sod was too much for a knife and a broken spear, and he had been forced to pack lightly so that he could manage hauling her as needed; he had no other tools or weapons.

Leaving her out here, hoping she would be carried off by a predator or scavengers, was not an option either. Though unlikely, they were close enough to their settlement she could also be found by a person; her body was so bruised and battered he could not take that chance. He should have just kept it simple and flung her down the ravine where Sedon fell, he thought. It was too late to do it now, since that was precisely where he told Keta he would be. 

No, he had to move forward, stick to the original plan. It was the only way to guarantee both her death and her burial. Besides, the Spiritwalker reminded himself again and again as he huffed and strained, in the end, watching her die in terror would make all of his suffering worthwhile.





Intended Ch. 10



Though twilight quickly yielded to darkness, Jakal did not stop to light a torch. The moon glowed full and bright, illuminating the path he traveled. In the Spirit World his senses, including his eyesight, were heightened; were he not completely familiar with the lake's location he still could have found it. It lay so close now he felt its moisture upon his skin. He could even smell the water, its cool crispness mingled with the scent of mixed leaves.

The signs grew ever fresher as the Tracker followed the Spiritwalker's trail. The ground on which the shaman had trod remained compressed, the grass flattened, not yet beginning to spring back. This told him that they had passed this way only a short time ago. He had nearly caught up with them.

Hold on Sala. Please, hold on, he begged silently. I am coming for you.

A scream suddenly punctured the night air.

"SALA!" he shouted, sprinting with the last of his reserves.





Intended Ch. 10



He did not know what had wounded him, but he felt an overwhelming urge to flee. Had he been attacked by an animal? Was it still lurking nearby? Groping around the cold wetness surrounding his body, he found the paddle, using it to steady himself as he tried once again to stand. This time successful, he lurched toward his pack. 

His vision blurry, temples pounding, in a panic the Spiritwalker decided to head for the cover of the nearby trees. He felt too exposed, too vulnerable here in this wide-open space and did not even want to stop to tend to his injuries first. No, he could treat them once he had secured a safe place to hide from whatever it was that waited for him in the darkness.

With great difficulty he lifted the haversack to his shoulder, and with halting steps staggered for the border of the forest which partially surrounded the lake. Though it would have been a brief journey for an able-bodied individual, the distance was greater than the shaman had hoped and he began to wonder if he had been too hasty to leave the shore. Yes, it was out in the open, but if he could find some dry wood the campfire would offer protection from nocturnal beasts. And what if something awaited him in the forest, hidden in the shadows? Perhaps he should turn around.

The Spiritwalker froze when he heard the rumbling growl of a large, unknown animal behind him. Body quaking uncontrollably, his eyes scanned the darkness. Finding nothing, he had nearly convinced himself that he had imagined it when he glimpsed the flash of a pair of glowing eyes, eyes which were drawing closer.

Terrified, he tried to run, his dizziness making it a challenging endeavor. The weight of his pack also proved a hindrance to his escape; without thinking, he dropped the haversack to the ground and stumbled toward the woods.

His heart thudded in his chest as his scrambling feet crushed the undergrowth. The heaving of his own breaths filling his ears, he could not be certain if the creature stalking him followed, but he was not about to stop to find out. Just as he reached the first cluster of trees he got his answer.

"ROWWWWRR!"

Losing control of his bladder, urine soaked his leggings as the Spiritwalker desperately searched the darkness for some means of escape. Thorns scratched his arms when he ran blindly into a patch of brambles. His instincts taking over, the shaman dropped to his knees and crawled headlong into the thicket, crying out as the sharp barbs slashed his exposed skin. When he could no longer take the pain of going further, he cowered, curling his body into a ball, whimpering helplessly while the animal circled the brier, growling and pacing in frustration.





Intended Ch. 10



"Understood."

"Know this, young Light-Eye. The time may come when I must do things to treat your mate's injuries, things which are necessary but may cause considerable pain. I need your agreement that should that time come, you will leave without argument."

"But..."

"No buts," she stated firmly. "Few can withstand watching their loved ones under such circumstances. Now, do I have your agreement, or must I call Tejed and have him remove you?"

"Agreed. I will do as you ask."





Intended Ch. 11



Seduced by the cadence of her breathing, Jakal dozed, his cheek nestled in the cascade of Sala's hair. The young woman's deep, dreamless sleep, a result of the magic contained in the old healer's concoctions, provided a respite to them both, relieving her of the pain accompanying her waking moments, and bringing him brief periods of stolen slumber.

Despite his exhaustion after two days of little rest, the Light-Eye resisted all offers to spell him of the near-constant care his mate required. Only the Fox Clan's spiritual leader held sway sufficient to tear him away from her side and even then only for a short while.

Still, he knew he must depart soon and track down the man who attempted to kill her. The Spiritwalker may have perished as a result of his injuries, but Jakal had to see it with his own eyes. No matter what, he would ensure the shaman never touched her again.

A melee of shouting jarred him awake. Certain the disruption was significant, the Light-Eye broke his own rule and left her alone, rushing outside.

He discovered his people pressed together in a tight mass, crying out in confusion, their voices growing louder and louder. His heart pounding as a streak of energy rushed through his body, Jakal pushed through the noisy crowd, fighting to uncover that which he already knew lay ahead. 

Flanked by Belak and Dosat, the Spiritwalker stood with arms pulled behind his back, his eyes wide and darting with alarm at the upheaval surrounding him. His body was filthy, covered with dirt, scratches and streaks of dried sweat. His lopsided face, wrapped with blood-stained strips of leather, swelled hideously.

The Light-Eye scarcely noticed his condition. Overcome by rage, he acted on instinct, and before anyone knew what was happening, his hand wrapped around the shaman's throat.

People shouted, pulling at his arm, his body, begging him, demanding him to stop, but he neither heard nor saw them. The Spiritwalker rasped, pleading for his life as Jakal denied him of breath.

Thrown backwards with great force, the young man landed with a grunt against the inner perimeter of the crowd. Stunned, he looked down to see an enormous hand pressed against his chest, holding him stationary.

"Stop, Jakal."

Lifting his eyes toward the man towering above them all, Tejed, the great Leader of Fox Clan, peered down at him with an expression both kind and serious.

"That is not our way, young Light-Eye."

A sharp whistle cut through the cacophony.

Keta stood in the center of the throng, arms raised, calling for quiet. "My people, you must remain calm. You can see for yourselves the Spiritwalker is injured. Before doing anything we must tend to his wounds. Please, go back to your dwellings; I promise we will gather as a Clan soon."

Reluctantly the people of Wolf Clan dispersed. Clustering in front of dwellings, they gossiped and speculated and debated the greatest controversy to face their people in many generations. 

Acts of violence were known to occur from time to time, but by and large they were a peaceful people, preferring to solve differences through debate or humor or over cups of fermented beverages. The brutality inflicted upon Sala was extreme and exceedingly rare, so rare even the eldest of the elders had no memory of incidents like it. But never before had a Spiritwalker been suspected, let alone accused, of perpetrating such an offense.





Intended Ch. 11



Crack! Crack!

Keta sighed. "Enter," she called. "Ritol. I am glad to see you made it home safely. If you have not already heard, Jakal was able to locate Sala and bring her home."

The young man, his body travel-stained with sweat and dust, nodded, his face sober. "Yes, upon our arrival we were informed of Sala's status. But that is not the reason why I am here. I wanted to inform you that in our travels we encountered another party. They were on their way here and accompanied us back to the Camp."

"Who is it?"

"Me," a low, rich voice replied from behind the flap. The Trader stepped out of the entryway, replaced by a tall, well-built man with long black hair. Scattered streaks of grey at his temples accentuated the tattoos under his bold green eyes.

"Well, Spiritwalker, I am here. Tell me what is so important that you would summon our entire caste with no explanation."





Intended Ch. 11



The green-eyed man raised an eyebrow.

"You are skeptical?"

"Would you not be if you were in my position?"

"Perhaps if you would listen with an open mind, and not dismiss me outright, you may discover it does not sound so unrealistic."