Private Tales The Beating of Skin Drums

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Her eyes widened as his arm came around her like a living blanket. His chest was solid and warm against her back, his bicep firm beneath her cheek. A small sound escaped her, half protest, half surprise, because it felt like the proper thing to do. But she didn’t move away. Not when the heat of him was chasing the cold from her bones.

Three days .. to catch a deer?” she asked after a moment, incredulous, her voice muffled against his skin. The notion sounded absurd, surely hunters could do so in half the time. Still… she found she couldn’t bring herself to feel any disappointment. Three days meant three more nights away from the eyes of the others, away from the camp and its sharp whispers and lingering stares. Three more days in the wilds. Out here, there was only endless wilderness and the strange comfort of his presence.

Her lashes lowered, her shivering eased. She listened to the steady rhythm of the rain outside the cave, and to the slower, heavier thud of his heart against her back. Without thinking, she reached for his arm and tugged it a little closer around her, tucking herself more securely into the warmth he offered.

Three days.. She rather hoped the deer were scarce.
 
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