Time: Late afternoon/evening, Day 15 Place: The western edge of the forest Cast: Rook and Payne Rook manages to ruin Payne's kill and get himself skewered, they eventually head back to camp. R for all the good stuff
She'd been tracking the beast all day. It was hot, and muggy, and Payne could feel a bit of sweat go between her shoulderblades. She didn't allowed herself to move. Something ran through her head, something about 'over hill, over dale...' and she turned it about in her mind, examining it, before letting it go. She had no idea now how far she was from the camp, She knew where it was, vaguely, but didn't worry about that much. Worst came to worst, she'd spent the night in the forest and explain things to Clay in the morning - would be far from the first time she'd weathered the night out-of doors, perched up in some high place. Below her, the eleboar she'd been following snuffled along, rooting up grubs and turning over rotting logs with it's trunk to feast upon the plethora of insect life beneath. Payne was the closest now that she'd managed to get all day. Every time she made progress, it seemed, the wind would change, or something would startle the thing, and she'd have to find it again following the trail of crushed foliage - luckily the things were hardly careful about how they passed. She held her breath, the taste of the lichen she'd eaten still in her mouth, making it water. She licked her lips. Everything was brilliant, colourful, she felt more alert than she ever had. Even her tired muscles and strained limbs were hardly a whisper on the edges of her attention.
Slowly, the girl carefully pulled out one of the thin spears she'd strapped to her back. She hefted it in her hand, her body arching back.....
Rook hadn't slept at all, being stuck in a tree, completely terrified that he would slip, or the laughers would somehow get him. Between camp and the clay flats, the trees weren't as big or as wide as the one he had been sleeping in and his muscles ached. Still, he had gone back to the clay flats to continue searching for something other than the stupid children's book he had grabbed. Pants, or clothes or... something useful would have been nice. Except that the sun was getting low, and he had no intention of spending a night in another one of those tiny, spindly trees. It was probably his exhaustion, and the idea that the closer to camp he was, the safer he was, that was his downfall. He rounded a tree, before coming face to face with a huge boar-like animal, with porcupine quills that stuck out of it at all angles. Rook was shocked into paralysis, but apparently, the eleboar wasn't as surprised to see him.
The animal was still for a moment, perfectly still, as if assessing this new creature. It gave a snort that sent the dried leaves underneath scattering, and it's tiny hooves minced almost delicately for a moment, a series of quick sideways steps. There may have been other signals, other warnings or bits of bravado, but they were lost on the girl who crouched in the tree, all of her senses singing, her mind whirring at top speed. She saw her prey do it's strange, little mincing dance, and her mind made the connexion. That...that movement, it meant... Without pause her eyes followed the point of the beast's attention, and there was Rook, standing stunned, and her mind whirred, her gears churned, before she'd even realised she was thinking, assessing, running the equations her body was moving, lithe and hot, unstoppable, just as the beast threw its huge bulk forward.....
The beast's full weight bore down on him, and it was purely instinct that he shifted to the side to avoid the full impact of its charge. Nevertheless, its weight slammed into his chest, as the beast side-swiped him into the nearest tree. The world turned white around the edges as Rook slumped to the ground, dazed, and in pain. Distantly, he saw the quills sticking out from his arm, his automatic reaction to protect his chest proving vaguely useful.
Without waiting, without hesitation, the eleboar whirled on its tiny hooves, and in a flash of surreality Payne thought of a dancer. It was almost graceful, really, in it's mindless aggression, in its single-mindedness. She moved without conscious thought, her mind extrapolating and figuring and adding and working probabilities seamlessly, below her attention, the way it always did when the world was exploding in crisis around her. Her body strained, the vine in her hand tore at her palm as her feet hit the forest floor, and she threw herself at the beast, her spear whipping forward with the whole arc of her long body behind it. The point drove deep into the creature's shoulder, and it let out a lowing of pain and rage.
Rook was about ready to feel those hooves smash through his skull, and he could feel the adrenaline suddenly pumping through his veins, heightening his senses, and filling him with strength. Grabbing a rock, he hurled it at the eleboar just as a shaft buried itself in the creature's shoulder. He blinked in surprise, glancing up to see Payne hidden within the shadow of the leaves, the one who had just thrown the spear. Rook staggered to his feet, ready to run in case the eleboar continued its charge from where it had halted, evidently surprised at the combined attack they had just inflicted on it.
Payne sank instantly into a low crouch, the one her body tended to adopt when it knew it needed to fight, or flee, or somehow save her skin from whatever trouble she'd gotten herself into. She shocked herself by speaking. "Die, will ya?" But the beast did not die. It swung its head, giving another low, pained moan, and moved off into the underbrush. Her heart thumped with triumph. It was wounded, it'd be slow! The adrenaline was pumping through her, she could chase it, she could kill it! It was then, of course, that she looked down and saw her two extra spears broken at her feet. Her body unfolded, dismay suffusing her every inch. "Fuck me."
His eyes followed the eleboar till it disappeared, before he sunk back against the tree, cradling his bleeding arm. Three of those long quills were embedded deep into his forearm, like a Rook skewer. It didn't hurt as much as he thought it would, the adrenaline that flooded his system still dulling the pain. His chest did hurt though, and he wondered fleetingly if he had bruised a rib. He looked at Payne, watching her look a little forlornly at the spears. He felt very guilty. "I'm sorry, I didn't... notice it..."
Payne had been standing, rather in the manner of a young child watching two coveted scoops of chocolate ice cream melt on the sidewalk. At Rook's soft words her face snapped up, and her first reaction was scorn and anger. "Yeah, y'think? Were ya tryin' to get killed, huh? Good job!" Of course her anger was fleeting, though a pang *did* go through her at the loss of the animal. Yes, it was weakened now, and may just be going somewhere to die. But how to find it, if so, before the laughers? Could she take it down with just her knife? She wasn't sure she wanted to test that, her blade was keen and thirsty but pretty useless against the top half of the animal. They could really have used that food: knowing that weighed on her, the mantle she hadn't even meant to pick up heavy on her shoulders. Still, there were the smaller animals she'd killed to eat...and half of her anger was just worry she didn't know how to feel, and a look at Rook's run-through arm brought that back acutely. She liked him, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. "Shit." she finally said, shaking herself out of her regret, with one last longing look at the way the wounded animal had gone. "Let's get those things outta ya." she finally said, pushing Rook down, seating herself on a fallen log.
Rook visibly flinched at her words, looking down. She'd been so kind to him, giving him boots, offering him comfort and physical contact when he had needed it... and here he had interrupted something that had probably taken several hours to plan and even more to carry out. He felt weak, and useless, and determined to prove that he wasn't some sort of pathetic wimp. "We could... still go after it... if you want," he said softly as he knelt on the ground in front of her, holding out his injured arm to her as best he could.
For a moment Payne considered the option. It was tempting....the chance to take down the thing, contribute to the group's survival, feed everyone, not to mention her own pride and her love of the rich, salty meat... she shook her head. "Too close t'sundown." She finally said. "Took me hours t'get that close...and you're bleedin'. It'll smell ya right off, I bet." Truly Payne was a little unclear on the exact dynamics of hunting, but she knew smell had something to do with it, and her observation had backed that up quite substantially. "And my other spears are back at the camp, and..." a heavy sigh. "Nah, I'll get it tomorrow. Here." Her thin hand dug deep into both of her cargo pockets, pulling out a few bits of lichen: one a delicate seafoam green and the other a brilliant, deep version of the same hue. "One makes you bigger, one makes you small.." she recited, and then laughed, her fingers plucking a bit of the darker stuff out and stuffing the rest back into her pocket. "Eat this. It helps with pain, I think."
Knowing the effort that she had gone through and that he was a burden didn't help his self-esteem. "Sorry..." Rook was shaking slightly, from pain and exertion and just... everything had gone so wrong that day. First, being caught out away from camp, laughers harrassing him all night from the base of the spindly tree.... He had been terrified, and the eleboar just proved how vulnerable he was out here. Back in their world, he might have been the big strong fearless teacher of what ever he taught.... but here.... it meant nothing. Meekly, he took the dark mossy plant and stuffed it into his mouth. An intense burst of flavour hit him, and he nearly choked, but managed to chew and swallow. He winced when his chest ached at the action.
Payne watched him carefully, counting in her mind. She watched his face...watched for the relaxing of his facial muscles, the widening of his eyes, waited for him to look at the world in wonder, the way she had the first time she'd eaten the stuff. Allright,and she may have been admiring the attractiveness of his features. Just a bit. A tiny smile came to her lips when finally a bit of the pain-stress went out of Rook's shoulders, and she drew his skewered arm into her lap. Her hand grasped the first of the quills, efficient in her motions. "Okay, hang onto me...."
Rook wasn't expecting anything to happen, but when it did, his body slumped a little as he looked up in awe. The light filtered through the leaves in mesmerizing patterns, casting a beautiful glow on the colourful world. Every thing seemed to become sharper, more intense. His eyes were locked on Payne, and the full effect of the plant hit him then, immersing him in the beautiful slant of her cheeks, the slim length of her shoulder. He did as she asked without thinking, so lost in the sight of her... the sudden pain in his arm as she ripped out the first quill had him stiffening slightly. The barbed end of the quill had torn out a piece of his arm along with it, and he watched the way his blood spilled across his skin in fascination. It didn't hurt, even though it should. He fidgeted slightly when she ripped out the second one, and only felt a small wave of pain when she removed the third. The pain in his chest wasn't even present anymore, his attention focused on Payne, the hooked quills and the blood on her hands. His blood.
Payne looked at the bloody quills in her fingers, inspecting the barbed ends. She'd had a try at crafting them into something, and for a moment her mind flirted with that, before she turned her attention back to Rook. He looked like he was feeling no pain, which was good - she wasn't quite practiced at dealing with people complaining very compassionately. She slid the quills into her boot and then grabbed up a handful of moss, pressing it hard to the puncture wounds on Rook's arm to staunch the breeding - she'd seen it in a movie, and hoped that the practice was worth something. It was an almost tender moment, and Payne tried to ignore her proximity to Rook, his breath puffing warm against her cheek. Shit, no time for that nonsense now! Hushed in breath and quiet, after a few minutes she peeked under, happily surprised to find the bleeding stopped. She looked up at Rook, giving him a slow, almost-shy smile as her fingers played his hand between them, drawing it close to her chest. "I think you're good, for now..."
Everything felt... good. Strangely good. Rook felt all his fears and insecurities wash away with the pain, and his eyes lifted to hers. The moss pressed to his arm, the brush of her fingers on his hand. Everything felt surreal, and calm and... controlled. He watched her for a moment, her shy smile, the way her lips moved as she spoke. It was with sudden desperate need to hold this moment, to keep this strength that Rook suddenly moved closer, wrapping his good arm around her and kissing her roughly. His drugged brain could only make the connection that Payne gave him this sense of completion, this release from all his anxieties. And Rook wanted more of it.
She'd been meaning to say something, she really had. Something about his arm, or getting back to camp, or...well it didn't really matter now. There had been a moment, there. Everything had gone all bright and hot and Payne didn't really think to wonder why one moment Rook had been staring at her and the next moment kissing her, but he was a man; did it really matter? She'd never been one to question the lust of men, and wasn't shy about returning it. She was there, he was there...her heart was still quick and hard, and the stress of her hours of tracking through the forest pushed at her, and which didn't stop her from letting out a tiny yelp of surprise against his mouth, but it did make her arms wrap around Rook without her brain telling them do, and her back arch to press to him. In a second her tongue was pushing into his mouth, and she'd start thinking about it any moment, really....Soon he was pushing her back, and while there had been times that Payne might had regarded a man at such a loss with scorn and derision, right now it made a matching need leap up in her, and in no time they were clutching at one another, kisses hard and hot and hungry, his teeth on her, her fingernails digging into him, his hands and mouth making her gasp for air, his low growls in her ears.
A surge of heat flooded Rook, the feel of power and control overwhelming him, drowning him in its enticing warmth. He liked it. There were no questions, no doubts. Just him and Payne, and his need to possess, to control... to feel. He fought to draw breath past the smothering need, fingers fisting in her top and almost pulling hard enough to tear. He pushed against her, willing her to fall back, to give in. His hands tugged at her clothes, pulling and almost tearing and tossing them aside. They were useless hindrances in this situation, like his injured arm - his burning desire was so new, so empowering that he never wanted to stop. Each touch of her soft skin or her mouth sent another wave of fire, and he was so desperate, so hungry to touch and taste and take, lest he be left to burn.
He was so hot, so insistent, just a big, blonde pile of need. The sense of power and the thrill of it wrapped around the adrenaline, making her nerves sing. She felt everything in a sort of surreal haze, held him to her close, closer, whispering in his ear, muttering nonsense, her hands in his hair, pushing him on to see just how much she could make him lose himself. Her mind whirred with thoughts until finally even those were muted by the clamouring of her senses, and she sighed in heady relief at the reprieve from thought. And they gasped and strained together and everything settled with a mutual groan into perfect mechanical motion, some thudding beat in the slip of skin against skin.. Her eyes looked up at the canopy above them, and she noticed every shaft of light and every glittering leaf.
Everything was heat and fire and skin for a while, the sensations so vivid and hot, that Rook could barely resist. The power, the knowledge that his touch could set her alight like the beautiful torch that she was. His senses felt overwhelming, the sound of her heartbeat, her breath, the feel of her chest rising and falling, pressing against his. It all seemed slow, sluggish, yet impossibly bright and fast and... and...one moment he felt powerful, in control, and in the next, he felt leaves crackle under his back and Payne was the one in the seat of power. Rook didn't like it. Through the haze of lust, he growled the moment she pushed him over, and was about to retaliate... except the rush of sensations, the long drawn out moan made him feel weak, made his body shiver with pleasure. Her hands shoved him back, holding him there with ease. Rook whined, fingers tightening on her hips. This wasn't what he expected. He was supposed to be the one in control. He whimpered into her mouth even as he returned the hard kiss, trying not to be swallowed up by the heat and flame that was her. He just couldn't match up to her raw power, her raw need, and he acquiesced, his body becoming compliant. Now, he moved with her, and the explosion of sensations made him want more.
Payne could hear her breath, distantly, dragging in and out of her lungs. She heard Rook whine in protest, but was too focused on her own pleasure to care. She could hear the wind rustling through the canopy, and the slick, wet sounds of bodies colliding, and she added her own voice to that mix, hearing soft, ragged moans come out of her, and her mind was filled with the scent of blood and sweat, and the slick glimmer of Rook's panting chest in the burning red light. She moved, sure and confident, her body pushed by some force much older and much more overpowering that she could hope to control. And his hands were on her, holding her, his moans were music, her body moved over him sure and slippery as a fish, and she pressed him down into the dirt, and she could feel his skin hot under her fingernails, his shoulder sweaty between her teeth. It was all over too soon, and she could feel Rook's heart thumping against her cheek as, for just a moment, her face pressed against his sweat-slicked chest. She felt utterly loose, boneless, but too soon her mind came back to her, bothering her exhausted bliss with one very important fact.
"Sunset comin' up." she muttered, pushing her damp hair off her forehead. "Gotta get back."
Rook sank back into the ground, feeling emotionally spent and utterly drained by the feel of completion, of perfect, utter completion that had washed over him. He could think past the sensations now, as if that moment had been a purification of his mind. He swallowed thickly, looking down at the naked form of Payne splayed against him, his arm automatically wrapping around her. What had he done?... The scene played over in his head, and he felt... disturbed over the loss of control, over his vicious, violent need. That wasn't him. That couldn't be him, right? When she finally stood, Rook nodded, wincing at the feel of his injured arm. Their activities must have disturbed the wounds, blood seeping sluggishly from beneath bits of moss. He'd have to find a way to bandage it later. It was a struggle to sit up, his chest protesting painfully to the movement.
Payne gave Rook a tired, sated grin, her hair sticking to her damp cheeks as she made a series of little hops to get her cargo pants up her dirt-streaked legs. Her body was tired and sore, but filled with happy. A good fuck often made her giddy, even though she would have liked to be 'above' that somehow, she liked the feeling. "That was fun." she laughed, but her her smile faded when she saw his expression. She knew that look. That what-have-I-done look, that look that married men and good men and sober men got when they woke up in the morning and turned to find...well, her. Not something pretty and acceptable; just skinny, tattooed her. They always got the same look, that abashed look of shame with themselves and slight disain of her, when they could just be happy that they'd gotten a nice fuck and go merrily on their way. She felt a pang, because - once again - she'd caught herself stupidly thinking that this one would maybe, just maybe be different. He'd seemed so wild, so free... She extended a hand to help Rook to his feet, using her hands to steady him carefully.
"Look..." she started, her eyes slipping aside. "It's cool. I won't tell nobody."
She was upset. Had he hurt her? In this sudden lust-filled, ridiculous manner that he had taken her. He didn't want to be remembered this way, Rook didn't want to be another bad memory, another bad taste in Payne's mouth. When she helped him stand, he didn't let go. He felt ashamed for losing himself in that way, when he had never wanted to hurt her. Never wanted to harm her in any way. He couldn't stand the way her eyes refused to meet his, and he pulled her close, tilting her chin so that he could look at her. He felt regret for the way he had acted. When she spoke, however, he realised that Payne had taken his regret the wrong way. He blinked in surprise, eyes softening as he leaned in close to press a soft, tender kiss to her lips. "You're gorgeous." Another press of his lips to her chin, her neck. "You're perfect." This was how he'd wanted things to be with her. Slow, gentle... special. Not the rush, the animal-like press of bodies and movement and sex, though he enjoyed it thoroughly. Rook didn't want to be another one-night stand.
If she'd known Rook was going to go and be like that she would have pushed him away, turned away from him before he could kiss her so soft, be so goddamn sweet. Wasn't it enough to get her all worked up, she wondered, without getting all tender like that, tossing her into confusion? Still, she reminded herself, that was the world before, the streets she'd walked on earth, and that world was dead. Her experience the day before had made that very clear to her. She owed him nothing. So Rook could be sweet all he wanted, she decided. She let him hold her close for just a moment, and kiss her, before it made her feel a bit strange and uncomfortable and she had to wriggle out of his arms, drawing a hand across her face to push the hair out of it. "Mm. Thanks." she muttered, throwing him a look. She even managed a smile, and bent to gather up a fresh handful of moss to press to his oozing wound. "There. Hold...hold that on it...yeah. Umm." She was still a bit giddy, and coughed, giving herself a good shake to suppress the zigzagging energy pulsing through her limbs.
"Let's get back. You're no good t'me eaten up by laughers."
Rook couldn't help but laugh a little at her expression as he pulled on his boxers, grabbing the stupid book he'd gotten in the West on impulse. It was evident that she wasn't used to being cared for, wasn't used to being loved gently or tenderly. It made him want to take care of her all the more, to rid her of the idea that sex was all about release and tension and pounding. He smiled a little ruefully to himself, pressing the moss into his arm. He was going to be aching for the next couple of days, that was for sure. Taking a short bow, Rook grinned at her, "Yes, your majesty." It was hilariously ironic, but he felt Payne needed to be treated like royalty to overcome what ever it was that plagued her past.
Her past, at that moment, was very far from Payne's mind. She accepted his titling her magesty with a nod, as if it was only her due, and it made her let out a low, soft laugh. As they walked she did, occasionally, toss a look over at Rook to make sure he was keeping up, but mstly she let her eyes scan over the trees and the underbrush, still trying to decipher whatever strange language it was that could tell her of the passing of animals, of their hidden ways and habits. She knew it was there, that it was like any other language: she just had to learn it. She thought, also, of the supper that would hopefully be waiting for her upon her return.
"Oh!" she said, startling a small bird that squawked its protest from the tree. "Clay an' me, we got bacon for supper!"
The secrets of the forest weren't a stranger to Rook, but neither was it familiar. If he tried hard enough, he could probably pick out the path that the laughers took every night, their claws leaving light scrapes on the soil and wood. He had yet to try his hand at hunting, being more interested in boots, and Payne than anything else. "Bacon?" Rook's mouth watered at the word. He hadn't eaten anything other than that citrus thing for two days. He was starving, and it probably showed. Food... Well, at least they had been useful, all he'd gotten was a stupid book. Thing hadn't even helped him with the eleboar quills or anything. "I've got a kid's book. The only thing I could find in that shit hole." The disgust was evident on his face, as he looked at the blood-splattered book. "Didn't do the kid any good either."
The mention of the laugher flats made Payne grimace, and she swallowed down the memory with a grim look. "Arlo an' me went out t'that place." she mentioned, but left it at that. She didn't want to think about the devestation, or the things she'd seen there or the bile rising to her mouth. She'd handled it well, no shame there, but she didn't want to think about it. They walked in silence for a bit, before she spoke again. "What book?"
"Some... collection of children's stories." Rook offered her the book, not willing to hide something to measly from her, not after what they'd done, and the emotions he felt for her. "You can have it if you want, I was going to toss it in the fire or something." He had no use for paper or reading about fairy tales and mother goose and alice in wonderland and whatever the hell else was in there.
"Oh my god, Alice in Wonderland!" Payne wasn't able to conceal her excitement at seeing that title revealed as she rubbed away the mud caking the cover, and she blushed a bit at her outburst. "I used t'read this when I was a kid. The Russian version. I mean." Her father had read it to her, when he'd been around, but she wasn't going to tell Rook that. "You know the guy that wrote the russian translation's the same dude wrote Lolita?" she rattled off, and then felt even more silly. Now, why'd she want to go and spout off something like that for? He was gonna think she was some egghead, tryin' to be...Bazzer, or some shit. She took the book from him and tucked it into her cargo pocket, not wanting to show how grateful she was for some reading material.
Rook laughed, in wonder at how adorable she looked when she blushed. He nodded. He'd been made to read Lolita for one of his classes, and hated it. Or rather, he found it so strange and hard to read that he had a headache halfway through. He could see she was pleased, and it made him happy. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her to his side as they walked, pressing small kisses to her ear and temple. "You're welcome."
Payne allowed the affections for a moment, and he'd even gotten a tiny, pleased chuckle out of her before she pushed him away again, her hands batting at him. "C'mon, ain't gotta..." she broke off, a bit at a loss. She wasn't sure what, specifically, he was doing that he shouldn't, but she knew it was making her feel damned awkward. "Be like that." she finally finished, giving him a good scowl just to drive the point home.
He grinned even after being shoved. She enjoyed it, that little happy chuckle had told him that much. At her scowl, he gave her an appeasing smile, patting the moss on his arm. Rook was glad that he had seen this part of her though, the part that enjoyed children's books and perhaps had given in a little to his tender kisses and soft caresses. Now that the strange lichen thing she had fed him was wearing off, he was beginning to feel the aches a little more clearly. Some food, and rest of the convalescent kind was going to be in order. Hopefully no one would rub his inability to do anything - other than get skewered by an eleboar and pick up children's books - in his face tonight. He wasn't sure if he could be bothered to deal with it.
Payne was a fan of the companionable silence they'd slipped into as their feet took them closer to the camp. She especially loved the smells that were starting to filter over: hot meat and burning fat. She still felt a bit of a pang at her failure to take down the eleboar, but there was always tomorrow. There was the other young one Clay'd gotten, if they were desperate. And she'd seen a few creatures in the western end of the forest that gave her some hope of smaller prey, if the flashes of fur and bright eyes peering out at her had been any indication. So her arms swung easily by her sides, her body free of any tension.
"Oughta let th' doc lookit those holes in ya." she tossed over to Rook, jerking a thumb at his arm. "You know who he is? Thorne? Not a bad guy. Kinda faggy, though."
Rook liked peace and quiet, especially if he had Payne's beautiful presence by his side. The smell of food was making his stomach growl with renewed vigor, and he was in desperate need for nutrition of the bloody and meaty kind. Doc? Thorne? "Nope. I haven't met a lot of people yet..." Rook chuckled at her description of the man, grinning teasingly, "So does that mean he might hit on me? You do realise I'm only interested in the opposite gender, right." Medical attention might be warranted though, considering how deep those barbs had been rammed into his arm...
Payne shrugged. Her description of Thorne aside, she hadn't really put much thought to what shape crotch the doc was into; she'd been referring to his touchy-feeley, tree-hugging ways, and the fact that he always made her feel vaguely as if she should be looking at her meat for some 'organic' label somewhere. She looked over at Rook, unconcerned. "Don't matter to me none if you suck cock, I know all I got to about ya now." she pointed out, a wolfish grin spread her lips wide and she reached over to give Rook a poke in the ribs. "Can't say 'bout the doc, though. Never asked. You're gonna haveta figure that out yourself." Something tickled her mind; hadn't Thorne hooked up with someone or other lately? Not that who somebody fucked meant much, the sort of situation they were all in. She shrugged it off, not particularly interested.
He blinked. Was Payne baiting him? The wolfish grin and poke stirred the cheeky side of Rook, and he trapped her within his arms, a hand moving to expertly tickle her side. "I'm not interested in men," he grinned brightly, enunciating each syllable with another brush of his fingertips against her ribs, "only in you, at the moment." He couldn't help it, she was just too... inviting.
Ten points for Rook for sweet words, and reiterating his interest. Minus several dozen points for tickling! Payne had let out a loud shriek before she managed too control herself, and was instantly a wriggling, squirming thing with nothing in her mind but getting away from that accursed tickling. Of course she wasnt' as gentle in her efforts as she could have been, and by the time she managed to shove Rook away, she was pretty sure she'd hit him a few times. She looked up at him, wondering if he'd mind. "Don't tickle me." she mumbled, redundantly.
Rook managed to hold on to Payne for a few moments, tickling her while her body was trapped against his. Unfortunately, she wasn't as delicate as many girls he knew, and soon, her elbow managed to find the sore spot in his chest, digging in ruthlessly. The pain loosened his grip, and her next shove pushed him away, a silly grin still on his face, even though he was wheezing slightly. Damn it, that girl was strong. It took him a few more moments to catch his breath, pressing a hand to his chest to soothe the pain. It was worth it though, and Rook grinned at her, "You're fun to tickle."
"Yeah, well you're fun t'beat up." Payne spared a hungry grin and a friendly punch on the arm for the man, her arms swinging as she walked, and she looked around as they finally broke the cover of trees. She sauntered up to the fire with swaggering nonchalance, inhaling a deep breath at the smell of cooking meat and the sizzle of fat on the fire. She gave a nod to all that sat around, pulling out her knife to carve a ragged chunk of meat from the animal she'd killed. It burned her fingers and her tongue, and she hissed in pain, and it was juicy and hot and perfect as she sprawled down to lean against the tree. And it was fantastic, really: the taste filling her mouth, the overwhelming ache in her limbs, the sated contentment of her mind and the warm feeling spread all through her. Everything was, for once, just right.