The fire and the flame
Still pursuing a somewhat more daunting than initially expected quest to return to her homelands, Lilah strode casually through the labyrinth of mangrove trees with idle indirection. She’d refuse to admit she had found herself as a little more than lost, even to herself, and as such decided that moving in any direction had been conditionally better than remaining stationary. Her assailants could still be lurking just over the looming horizon, even despite the carnage she had witnessed upon the beach. One guard she could probably take. Two or more however would be a gamble that she’d rather hold tight her hand of restless dice.
Between strategically placed footfalls around the brackish cerulean waterways, the woman wove her perfume carefully around each tree in a tangled web. Should they follow her scent like a dog to a bone, she intended to make it anything but a simple and straightforward task. An insolent smirk curled up the corners of her dark mask in humorless amusement.
Then the wind would shift.
When the delicately exquisite smell of something delicious swam through the gentle breeze, it had whisked away her every last thought with sudden certainty. Practically on cue, the muscles in her stomach began to contract and groan in greedy murmurs. When had she last eaten? That she could not fully recall. Unless it would count to include the stomach full of an anxiety sandwich that she had inhaled while being hunted by the king’s posse of marauders.
A famished tongue salivated from within the tight contours of her mouth as the intriguing fragrance danced in the air before her. Nostrils flared subtly as they eagerly drank in the unequivocal oily, coppery aroma of a freshly downed ungulate creature. Lilah’s lips parted against the savory incense, freshly moistened from an otherwise deprived palate. Her eyes widened and pooled with the intensity of a hungry animal. Muscles acting on impulse carried her without command toward the source.
Ears swiveled dramatically in the direction of a faint rustling as she drew nearer. Lilah stilled, her breathing hitching unevenly within her now raggedly expanding chest. It was a man, perched over the prize, his scent already began twisting around her like palpable ribbons of virile infused cologne. Her eyes narrowed vaguely, a physical manifestation of the thoughts now quickly cycling within her mind.
Advancing gradually nearer to him, her body remained low, stroking the foliage laden ground with onyx silk. It was deemed spying to most, but Lilah was a woman of opportunity, and what kind of trouble could a little prior observation cause her? The answer was likely not much, and yet still, her breathing grew more shallow and her frame slipped toward the shadows in an effort to conceal her presence.
