Whore In The Forest

Adventure-land was already waiting. We just had to find the key first.

Trees grew crazy around us, like Gaia this time had seriously gone mad. It wasn’t just trees either, it was ferns and flowers and grasses and fungi, all fighting for the light as they strove ever upwards. A great rush of green met our eyes – a wonderland of forest, jungle, harlequin with rushes of emerald, dark spring, thistle and even a hint of olive. We gazed around, some of us with wonder, me especially as my smiling mouth fell open to express the sudden onslaught of joy I felt, but others did not quite appreciate the beauty.

Karkarbard strode forwards, with his hefty and weighty axe slung over his shoulder. A lumberjack by trade it was apparently the first thing he had decided to pick up for our excursion of fates, despite the fact we no longer lived in the medieval ages. He had a severe scowl covering all of the front of his head, and if skin beneath hair could express anything I would imagine that would show it too.

“Darn it, Melanhathrin,” he roared, turning straight on me. “You said this was going to be fun. FUN?!”

My smile began to fade, lost as it was to all his anger and negitivity. Folding my arms over my chest (one hand holding a colt revolver, because I knew what it was to live in the darm 19th century), I raised my chin, looking back at him just as boldly.

“Oh excuse me, bastard,” I shouted back. The others in our party, all men and still not used yet to a woman having balls, gasped loudly. Rolling my eyes I ignored them and kept addressing Karkarbard. “It will be fun, Karkar-bum,” I mocked him, “I said from the start that we had to have patience. Patience.”

“I did have patience, whore, until I lost it back in the mouth to these gods-forsaken woods.”

“Pffftt.”

I flipped him a nice single-fingered bird, and walked round him. My eyes danced across the colours of the forest, but no longer devoured their gorgeous radiance because of the situation. The others in our group waited behind as I stormed off, right down the path that was hardly a path and more like a fairy’s trail to elf-land. My feet took a little skip, trying to ignore the adverse use of my profession. They carried me away from the people who did not want to dance under the canopy of nature, and took me away to another place with a white tower and a time when I was a princess.

Ailsa Williamson
What were your prompts?: forest picture, lost, key

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