Thread: flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo (NoxRogue)

RE Flectere Si Equeo Superos, Achaeronta Movebo NoxRogue Of course, she had never been one to leave someone in need. Regardless of the mission they were on. The more the merrier. The more bodies, the more work could be done, the more ell could be earned and the easier it would be on the caravan as a whole. The young boy and girl had brought the man, sopping wet to his core, into her wagon. He was handsome, she noted instantly, even if he did resemble a dog having been left in the rain. She turned her head to the side as they left them, her fingers curling around the hood of her cloak before pulling it down to reveal herself. There was a bit of an exotic tan to her skin. Naturally, with all the traveling she had done. One would almost suggest that she had been born with it. Of course, she wasnt. Her eyes watched him carefully, warily almost before she settled down. He hadnt seemed too threatening, which was good. However, his gaze was suspicious. As if to catch her thoughts, quickly prove her wrong, he lunged forward. Her body stiffened instantly, rigid muscles resisting against him as she felt their hips connecting. The loose, almost silk like skirt shifted around them as he pressed her back, his head dipping into the curvature of her neckline. Her pulse was racing and her chest heaving quickly. This had not been what she was anticipating from him, especially not after her companions had so selflessly brought him to her, to offer him a place of residence. And then, as cold lips finally brushed across her collarbone, she almost instantly realized what was happening here. She swallowed, the action rolling along her throat before she breathed out a single word Methuselah. Her accent was immaculate to say the least. It was obvious that she had been well educated. The word itself seemed to stop him. Shifting, she flung him off of her and into the ground of her wagon. Emerald green eyes were narrowed, disdainfully. And to think, she was going to extent hospitality to him. Her chest continued to heave has he offered his apologies, and her brow quirked. A pink tongue moved from behind closed lips, dampening the full forms before slinking back into her mouth. Not as I see? She questioned, almost haughtily. He was dangerous to her, and to her caravan. However, he could also be of use. She poked her head out of her wagon, calling to a few of her companions before slinking her body back in. And, though petite, she was well formed. Small breasts paired with a slender waist and white hips. And as her companions rushed in as she had asked, she motioned towards the man who had attacked her. Restrain him. He is Methuselah. He is hungry and cannot be trusted. She stated before sitting back down onto her bench. The full lips curled into an almost cruel smile. However, the next city we pass through will pay a high price for your kind. We could live off of you for months She mused, crossing her legs and leaning back. Although her body was still ablaze from the previous close encounter, she seemed to be keeping her cool quite well. So, make sure he stays comfortable. And safe . Not a hair on his head misplaced, my friends. And tomorrow, we dine on meat. She said as the men manhandled him out of her wagon and into another. It was dark, well covered, and a set of eight chains consisted, four to the front wall, four to the back. They pushed him to the back, locking silver shackles around his wrists and ankles before they left, leaving him with nothing more but the pulsating sound of their music as they danced. A form of Currency.