bornofbattle: (Default)
It had been a hundred years, no.  Longer.  More than a hundred years since he'd followed that damned wizard through the portal and into this new, strange world so alike his own and yet not. 

A hundred lands had passed beneath his boots and a dozen new languages to learn as he crossed the earth under foreign stars.  Stars who'd long since lost their remote and ominous unfamiliarity.  Now they were there, to guide his nights as the road of men and more importantly the sun guided his days.  And although he no longer fought against sorcerers and monsters as he did of old?  In this new land there were other monsters to fight; those with fangs or fur.  Some had four legs, some had two but a man did what he had to and over the decades there were less that would come against him as Conan's legend began to grow.

He'd lost track of who's land this was, and truth to tell he didn't care.  Was it owned?  Maybe.  There had been no one around for several leagues however, and the man himself had not seen another human in a spate of days.  So finding a flat enough space at the edge of a wood line, looking out to the flatland's and the tall grass beyond is where the Cimmerian made his bed for the night.  His horse had been fed and tied close, and Conan had rolled out a few furs to lay on as he roasted one of the long lop-eared hares over his small fire. 

Yes, it was a good night, but strange in a way that kept him awake and alert.  The warrior kept his sword, Cimmerian steel at his side as his eyes roamed the ocean of grass in front of him. 

Date: 2011-12-04 08:16 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] bornofbattle.livejournal.com
He smirked then, the side of his face drawing up and the color of his eyes almost hidden in the dark. "That Selene, is another tale. For another night."

Judging from the darkness, the moon long since lost in the trees behind them; it was only a few hours until the morning. Dew was already starting to collect on the grass and leaves around them. He reached for her hand, lifted it up to his face and stared into her palm, then pressed it to his chest. "Your hand is cold. Come closer."

With that the big warrior sat up on an elbow, reaching for a large, long furred hide, pulling it up and over the two of them. Bundled down inside the furs, his body gave off much heat, warmth from the damp chill.

Date: 2011-12-04 08:29 pm (UTC)From: [identity profile] dealing-death.livejournal.com
"Another night, hm?" More than one. That would be a first. Selene couldn't recall a man she had bedded more than once. They bored her, or like Kraven, sought her as some sort of trophy. When they realized she was not easily won, they didn't return.

She would hate to ruin his gesture by telling him she was generally always cold. Part of her condition she didn't fully understand. She still had a heart beat, she breathed, yet she was much cooler to the touch then she had been before Viktor bitten her.

For a moment she hesitiated with what to do with her hands. But before she made a choice she smiled and sat up. "I would be warmer if not wearing a dress of metal." She was still in the chain mail. Standing up Selene was not shy about undressing. She removed the heavy chain mail dress and leather bottoms. Leaving her in a thin, practically sheer, mid thigh top that was meant to keep the metal from chaffing her skin. Laying back down she curled back up against his large, hard body, one of her hands laid at his waist, her head found rest upon his large bicep. "How often do you find strange women like me in the woods?"

Profile

bornofbattle: (Default)
bornofbattle

November 2011

S M T W T F S
  12345
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
272829 30   

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 25th, 2017 04:22 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios