Re: The Deck, toward the Bridge
She laughed once more, the sound practiced, as was the conversation. She had had it before so many times. Maybe a bit more eloquently than this but the sentiment remained the same. She dropped her hair and the skull hid from view.
“That’s easy for the king of the jungle to say.” She slid her arms back around his, closer this time, her jean clad hip brushing him as she lead him once more. They weren’t strangers anymore, not completely. She could be a little friendly. “Your scars fade. Or you hide them under…” She leaned slightly to eye the loincloth. No, he wasn’t hiding anything under that. “Your scars don’t show. Mine are there for everyone to see. To gawk and stare at.” For a moment she stared down at her tattooed arm with a hint of remorse, but it flickered away to turn a sly eye back to Tarzan. “Maybe if I should take your cue. Start brandishing my knife. Think that’ll do the trick?”