Exiles of Gor: Reeds, and rope.

I needed rope, so I would need many reeds; grunting with this task in mind as I shifted among the stones which lay scattered around me, I rose then steadied myself upon my own two feet, with but one stone in hand. Shambling to the stream I knelt and laid my stone aside before splashing cold water over my face, onto my neck and into my hair. Taking up again my stone, I continued my long path southward along the river. I knew the Fierce One well, long had I studied the passings of her feet. Often, I had watched her silently from the shadows, watching as she moved, as she hunted, as she slept, and as she bathed; soon I began wondering what her name might be. To me she was beautiful, yet strange; magnificent to look upon and eccentric in the most peculiar ways. This too I liked in her; she was a puzzling creation, filled with a mysterious and powerful magic uniquely her own. Her whispered breaths wove enchantments over me as if flowed soft, and warm, upon my skin.

Many dozens of reeds, perhaps as many bundles of them as of my own fingers and toes, would be needed. I moved among them with the stone in hand, choosing then bending the tallest from among them; cleaving them close near their feet, and lifting them away, leaving their young ones to grow for yet another season to come. Long I toiled among them beneath the flaming eye of Tor Tu' Gor; amidst the maddening hum of dark flurries of such small things as do fly, and bite ceaselessly. More than once I had been driven, howling with rage from their endless dancing upon the wind; only to eagerly fling myself facedown into puddles of thin and watery mud; to cover myself in its healing salve. I had given much effort and no small amount of pride up, in exchange for harvesting the reeds I needed, under such conditions. From head to toe I was covered in sweat, and soil, and the endless welts of thousands of hungry and remorseless flying, biting things. This night too, I would spend naked and trembling upon the ground, with a stone in my hand as I walked along the boundary of the Spirit world, once again among the Ancestors.

I knew from an age long ago, the practice of making a rope from these reeds; and for this I also knew the harvesting had been the simple part. Preparing the reeds properly; pounding them to soften the stalk, pulling the fibrous veins from its own limp and broken body; drying them, rolling and twisting them into each other; to braid them over and over again until at last the rope was as thick as the biggest toes of my feet; and as long as my outstretched arms. This took much time, so much I lost the count of it; with the energy of my mind set upon the task before my hands, which shook with hunger at thoughts of the Fierce Woman. I felt her eyes upon me at times, as a prickling of the skin along the back of my neck. At other times I would find the soft wafting of sweetgrass and wildflowers upon the wind with my nose, closer to me than they should have been; I knew the scent of her skin, and hair swept pheromones when they came to me. I knew she watched in silence from the shadows where she roamed; as yet unseen.

Chanting softly to myself as raw fingers bled among the fibers where my hands worked tirelessly, I sang of the beauty of our way of life, I sang of my mate, and the generations of our kind yet to come. "Here among the forested mountains our days will be as many as are the leaves of the trees!" "Great is the power of her Spirit, her magic flows around me!" I knew she listened, and cared not; I sang louder each time I caught her scent on the wind. "Her thighs will part before me, my seed will fall upon her as the rain!" "Our children will spill over the land, as many as are the blades of grass!" Slowly the length of the rope grew from between my hands from the sinews of the reeds. This night I slept with a full stomach, filled with the raw pulp and sap of the reeds, filled with the power of vitality and health, the gift of their spirits to give. Such things as these are good to eat; they nourish and sustain us, for from such things as these are we made. This night I sprawled upon the ground atop soft, thick, green grass; as I walked again among our Ancestors with a stone and a rope in my hands. I sat quietly among them, hearing their wisdom, abiding in their counsel. When I awoke, rested and fed, I would rise to meet the dawning light with a thankful heart as I began again, my journey south toward Her hunting grounds; for there she would be, somewhere within the tops of the trees.

In the morning I rose before the rays of Tor Tu' Gor had yet reached the ground where I had lain to recover from my exhausted in lush, green grasses. Refreshing myself in the river before dawn, I had heard some small stirring among the boulders of the far shore. Rising nude from the water, I stretched casually, languidly in the pale light, lifting the twin chalices of large hands with widely splayed fingers toward the sky, the waters of life itself fell in shimmering veils about my upturned face and broadly squared shoulders. It coursed in rivulets along my arms, caressing their length and curvature eagerly, dancing as if many chilling tongues of ice flickered about my abdomen and ribs, and downward along my thighs. Shaking myself violently from side to side my long, loose, mottled man sent shimmering droplets cascading in whirls to dance among the first pale shafts light, with the chill of dawn upon the crisp tapestry of the air around me. She watched; I knew she watched, and I took my time in giving to her eyes, the visions she had come seeking. She too, needed memories to contend with during my time of testing. Her eyes haunted me; thus I haunted her eyes.

Wading to the shoreline, taking up my stone and the rope, rising to my full height and stretching well muscled, thickly sinewed legs into long strides, I sang out loudly enough to be clearly heard, for I knew her ears listened from the shadows. "She will writhe upon my furs unbridled; MY passion will spill from her in waves to flow upon and around us as Thassa thrashes and flails upon the mighty stones of Skjern!"

We played these small games of passion and suspense with one another, she and I; within the shadowy depths and across the wild expanses of the Northern forest. From frozen tundra to arid plains, from unstoppable Thassa to unshakeable Sardar; the Forest was ours.