Chapter 13

Tabatha awoke and sat up, her back aching even though she had the most plush furs of the entire group under her. As her gaze passed Cela, the cave woman flinched and looked away, acknowledging her guilt in aiding Ong to capture and claim her as his mate. Tabatha smiled, but Cela didn't trust her, and turned away.

Rising, Tabatha looked around the dimly lit cave, but she didn't see any of the males. The six captured children were there, however, and they didn't seem a bit upset to be living in such squalid conditions. In fact, they were playing together like any group of school children might. Though she was now in charge of their feed and care, as appointed by Ong, the children ignored her as she stood there. If they wanted something from her, though, she was sure they would let her know.

She walked toward the cave entrance, only to be greeted by an old woman. Touching her on the arm, Tabatha sent images into the old woman's mind asking where the men had gone. The old woman jerked away, but didn't flee, and the look in her eyes indicated unease rather than outright fear. After the initial shock of receiving such vivid telepathy, she allowed Tabatha to touch her again.

This time, Tabatha was more gentle and showed the old woman an image of her simply thinking the answer so that Tabatha could see it in her mind. The old woman, Moba, thought that was an incredibly bright idea, and wanted to try it with some of the other women, but Tabatha was able to convince her that only she could do it. She was special, that way.

Finally getting an answer that the men were out hunting, she once again tried to leave the cave, only to have Moba think to her that she had to stay inside with the rest of the women. It wasn't safe, was the image she sent, though safe from 'what', was somewhat vague. Wild animals didn't openly attack groups of people, as the cave people knew how to use spears to defend themselves – even the women could use spears. The larger the group, the more spears; and even the snake-fanged tiger left them alone.

Tabatha wandered about the cave for a while, watching the women work. Some were scraping the last vestiges of skin off the insides of fresh furs with sharp-edged, flat stones; two were working thin, flexible vines into a kind of carrying basket, probably for transporting fruits or tubers they might find. One was using a thin slab of shale as a skillet to melt down some unknown powder into a paste, occasionally spitting on it to keep it moist.

Tabatha had no idea what that might be used for, so she sat down next to the woman and touched her arm. By now, word of Tabatha's special way of speaking had passed around the women, and the woman making the paste wasn't nearly as frightened as Moba had been.

This woman's name was Agat, and she was making medicine. When the men went hunting, there were usually one or two who came back wounded. This paste was to be applied to the wound to keep it from bleeding.

Tabatha asked where the powder came from. Agat told her it was a special stone that had been blessed by the Wind God. It had been discovered by the first son of the Wind God and its usage had saved many lives of warriors who would otherwise have become swollen with rot, and died.

Tabatha was impressed; the Neanderthals knew about poultices. She asked if plants had ever been used in that manner. Agat didn't know, which basically meant the answer was no, so Tabatha projected an image of an Aloe plant, and asked Agat if she had ever seen one.

She had, so Tabatha projected an image of how to squeeze the thick leaves of the plant to retrieve the magical liquid inside to help heal burns. Agat was excited at learning this, and went off to tell one of her friends about this new discovery made by the new, hairless female.

As the group congregated around Agat, Tabatha slipped out of the cave and stood, finally fully upright, and took a deep, relaxing breath of fresh, unpolluted air. She had forgotten how humans, of any era, had a tendency to stink when gathered together with insufficient room and air. And, the more hair, the greater the stench. She didn't know how she was going to manage her private little adventure.

'Maybe I can teach them about bathing... ' she thought, grinning at the image of Ong sitting in a pool of water with his fur soaking wet. She was certain she'd never be able to teach them about soap.

"Hoi!" a male voice shouted at her from a short distance away. "Mai ha leen to poya!" It was Bran, Cela's mate. He seemed to be gesturing at her to go back inside.

"I will when I damn well feel like it," Tabatha replied, knowing he wouldn't understand. So far, only Cela was able to retain this new language Tabatha used, and Cela was inside with the rest of the females.

She was pretty sure that Bran wouldn't be as receptive to her 'mind meld' as the females were, so when he tried to grab her arm and haul her back inside, Tabatha simply teleported back a few inches, causing him to miss his mark. When he grabbed at her again, Tabatha 'jumped' back another few inches.

On the third try, Bran surged forward, expecting the fire-haired female to try the same trick again. This time, Bran mashed his face against Tabatha's time shield and was flung backward a short distance to land on his ass.

"That'll learn ya, durn ya," Tabatha snorted as she stared down at him. She smirked as she glanced up his loincloth at his penis, then turned around and walked away, easily picking her way over the uneven terrain.

She didn't get far, though. Bran was up and after her in only a few seconds. With a great battle cry, Bran tackled her from behind, bringing the wondrous red-head face down into the dirt. But before she hit, Tabatha teleported, leaving Bran to face the consequences of taking on an obviously superior being as his face smashed into the dirt, a sharp stone mashing into his nose.

Standing beyond the Neanderthal's reach, Tabatha squatted on her heels and watched, seemingly unaffected by the pain and confusion radiating from her would-be captor. Then her expression softened as Bran rose shakily to his hands and knees, blood running freely from his broken nose to dribble into the collection already forming where he'd fallen.

Finally noticing the bare, fire-haired female he was sworn to protect, Bran staggered to his feet, reaching for her.

"Please," Tabatha implored him, "Don't." She raised her hand as though to ward him off. Bran stopped, at last demonstrating some small sign of intelligence with his wariness of her abilities.

He squatted down, mimicking her own posture. "Durn ya," he muttered, an unhappy look of frustration on his face.

Tabatha's mouth fell open in complete surprise. She was so astonished that she rolled over onto the ground, laughing so hard she couldn't breathe, or even see.

Bran took advantage of her sudden helplessness to whack her in the back of her head with the butt end of his spear, being careful not to crack her skull. Then he threw the unconscious girl over his shoulder and carried her back to the cave.

"Now this isn't so bad, is it, old Bard?" Daphne asked as she sat on his belly, her legs straddling his hips. She moved gently up and down, sighing as Jeff's cock slid along the depths of her tight, warm insides.

"You sure you don't want to wake your two friends?" Geoffrey asked, somewhat annoyed that he had awakened from a sound, comfortable sleep to find the slut-goddess sitting on top of his flagpole. "You still have two vacant openings..."