Ansel stood humbled by her spoken word. It was clear and precise, and it was unlike any speech he had ever heard before. She had no clan accent and us...d words he'd never heard before. Like "cunt" and "feeble", and some others were lost on him as well, though he could puzzle out her meaning. He stared at her, naked, bruised and battered. Blood left streaks of pink all down her pale skin as the rain pelted her. Her breasts heaved with her labored breathing and she stood ready to defend. Her body gave just one tiny quiver - from this, he was certain she had known he was there, and had been anticipating whatever touch came first. His hand fell down to rest upon her hip, palm pressing against the top of her buttock. His fingers curled around towards the front, tips edging towards the territory they longed to visit. She shifted weight toward him and rose a fraction on her toes, as a subtle way to press against him, a way that just might not get them caught. To the old man that. More

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