Loris and Morg
Copyright© 2012 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 17
Loris and Morg: The Patrol 1
"Will the rest of you just shut up!" he shouted. "How can I find out what happened if you confuse her?"
It took a few heavy blows and more than one toss in the river (Never make a fuss at a party.) before they let the two of them be.
"They ... they ... they ... came from ... from ... Oh ... you'll think I'm cr ... cra ... crazy or ly ... lying." She shook herself ... shivering. "Tossing me in the water wasn't very kind."
"It got you out of your panic," he said. "Come with me."
Led to the lodge, he motioned her inside.
"I can't ... we're not mated. And don't give me that look. You're too young."
"Stay!" he commanded ... like she was a puppy. He went inside and brought out dry furs and a drying fur. "Get out of those dripping furs."
"Oh, you'd like that ... I've seen you ... looking at my ... But..." She looked up ... he was gone.
From inside the lodge she heard him say, "Get dry and dressed. I have things I need." Two lazy backs, a pair of bottom furs and two sleeping robes were tossed out the door. Wood from the dry storage and a leather bag of meat followed. "I'll be out in a moment ... are you dressed?"
"Oh shit ... NO! wait." She slid around the side of the lodge and shucked. She stepped out to gather the drying fur and wrap. "My belt..."
One flew out the door.
"Moccasins too ... and your girding skin!" A dry pair and a clean girding ... it was a woman's girding. The mocs fit. They were even lightly embroidered. The stitching was better than she could do ... such tiny holes.
"I'm coming out."
She shrugged the dry fir over her head and settled it past her hips.
She was standing there with the girding in her hand...
"It's never been worn ... you're not wearing others cast offs..." He grinned, "And it's no trophy."
"Oh."
He arranged the rocks from the cooking pit ... added wood and ducked back in to retrieve a burning brand. Very soon there was a nice fire. He set up the tripods and hooked the lazy backs. He slid the nose of one of the furs over the tripod pole and said, "Sit." Just he would say to a pup in training. "Sit!" It was a command.
She sat.
"Lean over here." He held a second drying fur in his hands ... she hesitated. He reached out with the drying fur and started rubbing her hair, "Stubborn ... hard headed ... difficult ... women!"
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