She really didn't hear herself say the word, it was more an automated response. Her thoughts weren't really on her destination , they were elsewhere. It must have been time for her to rest, as she had been up for days before meeting the strange man wrapped in cloth, and hiding his identity from the word.
Most men, seem to Natasha very leery of her. After-all, she looks as if she could rip the arm off a troll, and beat it death with it. While she isn't unattractive in the least, it just seems to her own mind, men probably prefer the smaller, weaker type ... those that commonly are found in the taverns and such. Smaller, shorter, ... softer-looking.
Most the time, Natasha's thoughts are very far from anything of a physical nature when it comes to sex. It's just an aspect as easily dismissed as in her mind, as one would dispatch a mosquito. Since she's never known any physical pleasure , it just doesn't seem important, or appealing much.
But the strange man, ... a merchant he claimed to be, offered his services to show her such lavish pleasures.
While the thought of being with him, made her feel even less towards the subject ... it brought up some other feelings she had been shoving away since her arrival in the Dorahl and Tivook areas.
Natasha had settled before on the notion, she was somehow "broken" in manners of physical need or desire, and in the manners of the heart.
But the strange man, seemingly well versed in the subject ... brought something to her attention, and now the thought was swimming around her head, like a bad night of wiskey-binge drinking ,gone right.
Could she dare? To ... indulge in those feelings she had?
Would she dare say anything at all to the person?
Doing either, would cause an attachment of sorts, maybe ... and Natasha was always careful to avoid those.
Not that Natasha thought, the person whom the Strange Man made her think about , would be reciprocating of such things ... , and there was the manner of Natasha of herself.
Ice runs through the veins of the barbaric slayer. Her stance and look is proud. Her manner of speaking is blunt and to the point most the time.
She has no frivolity about her. Signs of kindness and politeness are well rehearsed practices. She finds little humor in anything , even in those trained to be humorous. She rarely gives her word, but when she does, she is absolutely devoted to keeping it. But it is a fine rarity if she does make such oaths, a tradition of her savage clan upbringing, more than a true set code of morals.
Morals ... might be an issue as well. Natasha cast herself in such a way, that others may not question her very true nature, but she knows she still displays some of her people's proclivities for bloodshed ,and shirking frivolous, useless ( or stupid ) "laws".
As the tall woman found her way out the hot stuffy inn, to the open cooler night breeze ... her thoughts were interrupted by looking at the almost full moon.
The thought of the white wolf, briefly replaced her current ponderings ... the creature, left Natasha unsettled in her gut. The wolf displayed observation, and keen intellect ... well beyond that of a common animal. Why, this seemed to tug at her insides, she still couldn't put her finger on.
That thought, turned back to whom had her mind wandering to begin with ... , for usually when the White Wolf was spotted, the person never seemed to be far off, or long after ...
* frowning at herself, Natasha found herself on the hill over-looking the Tivook Inn, she set a makeshift camp up ... how long it took, she didn't know. Nor did she recall doing any of the work really, so lost inside herself.
Shaking the feelings and thoughts aside, she focused on sharpening and honing her blades , until exhaustion set in, and she lay on the cool grass, and fell asleep , dreaming about daggers, moons, wolves, and .... *
- Forum Courtier
- Number of posts : 285
Registration date : 2014-12-17
Character Name: Bavmorda
Overall Level: 11