Makers

Huntress

From the corner of her eye the huntress kept careful track of her prey. It would not do to lay eyes directly upon him. He was already skittish as though he knew he was being tracked and she didn't want to spook him. If he ran she would surely lose him in this busy Rosoph market. Much better to let him come to her.

She spared a quick glance at her camouflage to be sure everything was arranged correctly. A few deft arrangements of her silken tunic bared her lithe legs and as much of her ample bosom as was practical to draw eyes but not comments. She brushed fingers through her luxurious blond locks and straightened her necklace. The necklace of large colorfully enameled beads was annoyingly heavy. Even with its padded strap, the heavy piece pulled a furrow in the back of her delicate neck and she could not wait to get the cursed thing off. For the third time in an hour she questioned her decision to use this particular camouflage, though she was still confident it would be effective.

Her prey began meandering towards her, looking at trinkets from various street merchants as he slowly approached. She busied herself with examining the beautiful Pellian silks on the table in front of her. Waiting, waiting, waiting... When would this buffoon see her?

He finally caught a glance of her, did an immediate double-take and stopped dead in his tracks. Even in this high end district she was a rare and lovely sight. One calculated to appeal directly to him. She smiled slightly as she saw him take the bait. Yes, finally! She watched him approach purposefully now, with an arrogant swagger. He was big, just short of huge, and the scars across his cheeks and much-misaligned nose showed he was a brawler. Just as he was about to reach her she suddenly turned in his direction and stepped right into him.

"Oh! Oh, my!" she exclaimed after the collision. "How clumsy of me. I am so sorry, goodman."

The prey smiled disarmingly, he did have quite an attractive smile and his rough countenance held a distracting nobility. "Not at all, m'lady. The fault was most assuredly mine. Here now, you've dropped your satchel." He bent down to retrieve her bag and she noted the edge of Made mail under his shift. She would need to account for that when she brought him down. He was already large enough to be approaching the limits of what she could handle in a battle and if the chain was simply deweighted the additional mass might cause problems. He returned the satchel to her with a flourish. "Here you are, m'lady."

"Oh, thank you" she replied breathlessly. She took a moment to give him an obviously appreciative top to toe review. When she spoke again her voice was much less sweet and quite a bit more throaty. "But surely my inattention was the fault though you are too kind to admit it. Please, let me repay you for your gallantry. It is nearly midday. May I treat you to a meal? There is a lovely house I just passed that had the most amazingly delicious smells coming from it."

His smile grew and she saw the predator surge behind his eyes. She kept her own gaze as close to vacuous as possible. "I know the inn you speak of and I would be delighted to break bread with you there, good lady."

She smiled with delight at his assent and put a hand on his proffered arm. Excellent. The chainmail he wore was demassed, not simply deweighted, and would not be an issue after all. He began leading her through the crowded aisles of the market street, none too gently clearing a path for her. Exclamations and curses followed their progress, though all were carefully quiet enough not to require her escort's retaliation.

"This crowd is abominable, sir" she complained. "Could we not use yonder alleyspace to avoid it?" His eyes lit up and his smile took on a somewhat sinister cast as he directed their passage towards said alley. His free hand came up to cover her own where it lay upon his arm. His touch was hot and the huntress suppressed a responsive tingle. As she felt her libido rising in slow waves she realized how he was so successful in his own hunts. He was harping her, raising the effect of her hormones that were already in high gear from the excitement of the hunt and an honest appreciation of her virile target. If this went on for very long she would be a helpless puddle.