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Hunting for Ruby

And so we emerged after the chaos of the Cataclysm to a mutated world. In the years that followed, the Monarchy was restored to its true and proper place in our lives. With this, and the history of the old world to guide us, a new world awaited. The King made his proclamation, “Southward,” and to the South, the people of Britain marched. We walled off the vile Huns once and for all, by God’s grace to never be bothered by them again. We retook the lands of France that were rightfully ours and claimed what remained of Spain and Portugal. Across the Strait of Gibraltar lay the prize we sought. That shining jewel of a dark continent; Africa.

-From “Rebirth of the Empire: The Founding of New Britannia”

I

John Irons lay awake looking up at the stars from the African Savanna. The night was cool but not cold, and the glowing embers from the fire helped keep him warm as he lay on his sleeping bag. The vast expanse above made him feel small as his mind wondered about things young men wonder about. A bright flash streaked across the sky and he could not tell if it was a meteorite or the remains of some space faring craft that was finally being pulled back to earth.

“Two hundred years ago mankind could even get to the stars. Now we can barely keep the lights on in some places, and the Academy is no closer to an answer,” he thought. John’s hand reached for the signet ring of the Royal Academy of Science. This small trinket proved he was as a graduate of that esteemed institute which had been tasked by His Royal Majesty to expend every effort to understand this strange new Earth that was familiar and yet alien. Things such as technology breaking down if too much was in one location, or the inability to build anything more than the most primitive of rockets or aircraft, frustrated the scholars to no end.

“It’s like something doesn’t want us to get back to where we once were and is content to let us live with World War One era technology. Well, to an extent,” he mused while looking at the solar powered truck that served as his mobile base of operations. The thought he just expressed had earned him no end of scorn from his fellow students or graduates. The scholars laughed at the stories their uplifted animals had of a Man in White who had given them the gift of life as God had done to Adam. Many of the Academy were convinced there was, or there had to be, a rational and scientific explanation for that which had no explanation. John simply shrugged at his colleagues and looked as he heard Jurgen stir in his sleep.

Jurgen Bowman was nearly in his fifties but had the stamina, endurance, and even the build of a man half his age. John smiled as he looked back up at the sky. It comforted the young man that a skillful and knowledgeable man had followed him on this little excursion. John was convinced that Jurgen had come with him by the order of his father, Lord Alistar Irons. Even if Jurgen would not admit to such an order, John was thankful for the companionship. He had certainty spent the past two months arguing with his father enough about heading back out into the Savanna, but there was someone he needed to find.

John’s hand moved to the patch over his left eye as his brows furrowed. It had been frustrating, and still was, learning how to get around with only one eye. And how his father had been more than happy to send him out on an academic expedition near the Egyptian controlled region. Of course, he had an armed escort, and of course, the flora specimens he was documenting just happened to be close to a suspected military convoy route. Anger flared in John’s chest at it all. He understood it and appreciated his father’s position as one of the Lord Commanders of Morocco. Putting his own son in danger for that was fine, but his boy wanting to find the female who had saved his life was just “damned foolish nonsense” as Lord Irons was quick to say. He sighed and turned over to finally sleep when something caught his eye.

He sat up quickly and stared off into the darkness beyond the dying firelight. Out there, floating just about level with his head, were two golden, glowing orbs. At first, John thought it must be an animal of some kind and began to reach for his notepad when he stopped. Those were not the eyes of an animal reflecting light back at him. Some other source illuminated them. He sucked in a breath as a pale ghostly face resembling an owl appeared around the eyes. What had become a head rose to a height twice that of any man.

John felt his heart beating in his chest as he looked over the body of the creature. Long, spindly limbs like shadows supported the head. It moved forward with a strange loping gait that covered the distance a man would need to take ten steps in only two. The head dropped as the creature squatted in front of him. It didn’t reach out for him, or move any closer. It simply stared at him with unblinking, golden eyes.

His heart beat hard in his chest as he looked at the thing. It was uncanny and unnatural. The way the light moved through its limbs as if they were mere shadow given substance. His mind told him that this creature could not exist, and yet there it was. He felt cold and hot at the same time as sweat dotted his skin. John didn’t know what to do. His mouth opened, and the question came out with a blind reaction.

“Can you understand me?” The creature was still for a moment and then slowly the bird-like head nodded, but the eyes did not move with it. John felt his stomach tighten. “Do,” his voice shook, “do you live here?” Again, the shadow creature was still before the head turned to one side and a sickening snapping of bones sounded as the neck twisted to an unnatural angle. The eyes, again, did not follow the head. The head snapped back to its first position with the same bone cracking sound. John’s stomach turned from the gut wrenching noise and the monster nodded again.

“Do you know where the Red Pelt are?” his question came out as nothing more than a whisper. The shadow creature stood back up on its spindly, shadowy legs and turned to point off to the East. John tried to think of what was there and he realized, a massive natural lake. He smiled even as his body shook from the night air, hitting the sweat on his skin. “Th — thank you!”

The creature, while facing away from John, spun its head around. This time, the eyes followed the head as the sound of snapping bones accompanied the movement. It nodded with a crackle of marrow and then it moved off. The head was still facing backwards as its body moved forward. John finally blinked, and it was gone, vanished into the night which had spawned it. With a trembling hand and a stomach that desires to empty itself, he grabbed the crucifix around his neck and recited every prayer, every catechism and psalm he had been forced to memorize as a boy. That thing, whatever it was, did not belong to this natural world. After what felt like hours, John fell into a restless sleep.

He woke shortly before dawn and felt a fire in his chest. Some spirit had taken hold of him in the night and he felt a greater purpose than just finding the exotic beauty who had saved him. As the sun rose and painted the grasslands, withering as the dry season grew closer, in shades of blood red and golden orange, he was frantically sketching out the creature he had seen during the night. A noise to his side broke his concentration as Jurgen looked at his handiwork.

“Something you saw in a dream, Sir?” the aged voice held a faint amused tone. Jurgen set about making some breakfast for them as John looked out over the landscape and closed his notepad with a clap.

“No, Jurgen, it was not a dream.” There was a finality, and authority, in how he said it. John did not know where this confidence swelling inside of him was coming from, but he would not question it. He stood up and walked to the cab and traded his notepad for an old pre-cataclysm map. He noticed his old butler giving him a curious look that was met with a daring smile.

“Think about it, Jurgen. While everyone else is back home focused on trying to figure out the how and the why, we have an opportunity to do something fresh. To have an adventure.” John surprised himself with the almost boyish glee in his voice. Jurgen stood up after getting the fire going and came over to his master to look at the map.

“And here I thought we were going to find a hyena clan, Sir.” John smiled at the sarcasm of the old man. A butler he may be, but Jurgen was prized in the Irons family for never shying away from speaking his mind with the most respectful of sarcastic aplomb.

“Oh, we’re going to find her alright, Jurgen, just you wait. But look here,” he pointed to the topographical map and then gestured to the landscape, “the Cataclysm changed the topography. Our maps may have been accurate two centuries ago, but now they maybe nothing more than a reference point. Jurgen, we’re away from the military and the conflict. We have a chance to explore and document this new world. No one else has any interest in it at the moment. We’ll be the first to chart unknown lands and new species of flora and fauna.” John smiled and could not contain the boyish spirit of adventure which sprang up inside of him. Whatever he had encountered last night, as unnatural and abnormal as it had been, had reinvigorated the very spirit which had caused him to join the Royal Academy in the first place. He wanted to explore, to discover, and to go on adventures no one would ever believe. Jurgen chuckled a little.

“Ah, good to see and hear you in such high spirits again, Sir. For a moment, I was afraid all of that had been crushed out of you by duty and your injuries. Very good Master John, after breakfast we will begin our adventure.” The old man smiled and turned back to the fire. John rolled up the map and looked at him with a curious glare.

“Jurgen, why did you really come? My Father ordered you to, didn't he?” The butler didn’t stop his work as he set about taking some eggs and putting them into a pan after cracking them open.

“If I may speak freely, Sir?” John crossed his arms and nodded. After adding some spices to the eggs, Jurgen went on. “Lord Irons did not need to order me to accompany you. The way you spoke about this Ruby person piqued my interest. Why would a hyena go out of her way to help you? They’re brutes and savages, or so we’ve always believed. And when you spoke of her there was something, well I cannot put my finger on it other than to say, inspired. As if finding her was the most important thing in the world.” He turned that wise old head to John and just smiled with all sincerity. “It makes my old heart very glad to hear you speak with vigor again Sir.”

Jurgen simply turned back to the food as John felt a sense of pride, humility, and love for the old butler. He was more than a family servant. Jurgen was a mentor and a friend. Clearing his throat, John put the old map away and joined the elderly man for a breakfast of toast and eggs. They spoke with each other candidly, as neither had done for years. They loaded up, got in the truck, and set out for the unknown.

For the next several days, the pair of men found themselves in all manner of situations. They had to run from giant warthogs mutated from the Cataclysm. The porcine creatures now had six legs and sharp bone spikes along their spines. Each one was nearly as big as the truck. John wrote his notes down with a shaking hand as Jurgen drove as fast as he could from the pursuing boars. The pair had to take shelter in a ravine overhang from a sudden and powerful lightning storm that appeared from nowhere.

Consulting the old map proved invaluable as a reference point to landmarks. Each man took turns adding to the map to reflect the changed landscape. Each day brought with it some new discovery or danger they had to deal with, but John felt rewarded at the end of every night. At times, he thought he saw the golden eyes of the shadow creature watching, but it never approached again. The young man wished this adventure could last forever, but the Savannah was not a gentle place.

“Damit it all!” John swore as he kicked the truck while holding his bleeding hand. While driving their truck, had suddenly come across a massive underground termite mound. The sudden collapse of the earth under the truck’s weight had damaged the rear suspension and axle and not more than four kilometers from the sinkhole, their rear axle had come undone. The men worked to fix it, as best they could, and John’s hand slipped and got sliced open on the wheel well. Jurgen was quick to fetch bandages and dress the wound.

Once properly treated, John sat on the ground and looked at the horizon as the sun began to sink down. They only had two options, and both men knew it. It was either gather what provisions they could carry and press on towards the lake, or turn back. John looked at his throbbing hand and grit his teeth. He knew what direction he would go, but had to wonder if it would be fair to drag Jurgen along on what was now an even more dangerous trek. They knew the way back as they had mapped it. Ahead lay the great unknown. As John wondered this, a sound was carried over the distance.

He stood up and looked for the source. There, among a cloud of dust being kicked up, was the source. The unmistakable roar of motorcycles tearing across the grasslands. Hope swelled in his chest as the sound and the cloud drew closer. The rising hope slowly faded as the riders came swiftly into view. They were hyenas, which is the species he was looking for, but their fur was wrong. Dark black fur and vibrant white spots adorned these Uplifted as the trio of riders circled around the disabled truck a few times.

John could get a good look at them and noticed they were all males. Their loud, piercing giggling rose up even over the sound of the engines. Eventually, the three bikers came to a stop in a small formation and killed their engines. The two men shared a stern glance with one another, but nodded grimly. This was not the clan they had sought, but maybe this would be a lead and some help. As the males dismounted, one of them, who slouched and almost hopped when he walked and was the smallest of the three, approached him and spoke with a giggling voice.

“Hoo-man is a long way from any clan. And looks like your truck busted up good. Why you so far away from clan hoo-man?” The maw of the darkly furred creature split into what John hoped was a smile as yellowed teeth and a fetid breath which made his eyes water. John straightened his shirt as he drew himself up. He was a son of England and of the Irons’ household. There was no way of knowing how much these Uplifted knew of his people, but no Irons would give a bad first impression.

“My name, sir, is John Irons. My friend and I came out here in search of someone.” To his own ears, John’s voice sounded as if it were brimming with a confidence he did not fully feel. While they were now very much like men, the Uplifted still had all the might and power their more feral ancestors possessed. One wrong move and he doubted either he or Jurgen would survive this encounter. “Maybe,” he said as cordially as possible, “you gentlemen may help with that?”

There was no way of knowing if addressing these males in such a polite manner would do more harm than good. Even among the sapient animals of Britain, no one really seemed to know how they responded to being spoken to in terms that, until the Cataclysm, had been reserved for men. But John saw no reason to speak down to them as mere animals. The giggling male cocked his head to one side as the other two closed around him, but kept a comfortable distance.

“Ha ha, hoo-man calls us genteel-men. Ha, that’s funny. We help you hoo-man. Can even fix up your truck. Who you lookin for?” John noted the hyena was rubbing his hands together. With what little he knew of their culture, it was likely these males were hoping to increase their standing in some way. That, he hoped, would be a good thing for me.

“Well, we would appreciate any help in getting our truck fixed. I understand your people are very good with machines.” All three males let loose some giggles as they verbally agreed to this assessment. “I’m looking for the Red Pelt clan.” John said nothing else as the mood of the three males instantly grew hostile. Low growls rumbled around him and the hyena he was speaking to dropped his head slightly.

“We know where Red Pelt are. We take you there, hoo-man.” The last word was hissed with aggression and was also one of the last things John heard. Jurgen gave out a cry and then a fist nearly the size of his head filled the vision of his remaining eye. Briefly he had the sensation of falling backwards, and of being struck several times by heavy blows and then darkness.

The sensations that greeted John as he returned to the waking world were a grinding pain in his neck, a tight stiffness in his joints, the feeling of movement and the fact that he could not move his hands. John’s head throbbed as his vision cleared and he could see the ground rolling past him. As he became more aware, he felt a large hand gripping his shirt and felt his feet dragging along the ground. With no ceremony, he was dropped onto the dusty earth. The sound of another body hitting the earth caused him to shift his head to see Jurgen, bloody and bruised next to him. His eyes were still closed and the old man groaned a little. It meant that he was still alive, but for how long was the question.

“Jurgen, “he whispered, unsure if the old butler could hear him, “I don’t know how we’re going to make it out of this.”

II

Ruby sat on the ground, resting against the heavy frame of her motorcycle. Idly the Red Pelt matriarch chewed on a stalk of dry grass while brilliant sea-green eyes watched the assembly before her. This gathering of the White-Touched was as regular as the seasons. There were the elephants, the Keepers adorned in gold and gems along their brows and ears. Around them were dark and tanned skinned humans as attendants. Ruby suppressed a snarl of dissatisfaction.

When the Cataclysm came and altered the entire world, there were some humans who simply could not seem to live without their technological wonders. The Keepers had been tasked by the Man in White to preserve, maintain, and even develop technology for the Savannah. They alone knew the secrets to refining the black tar into the substance she and her clan depended on to maintain their nomadic lifestyle with trucks, motorcycles and other vehicles. The elephants also knew the secrets of radio for when a message had to be sent faster than a cheetah could run. Because of this, humans from the South had given themselves to the Keepers as slaves for generations.

As near as the matriarch could tell, the humans were treated well as their smaller bodies and hands proved invaluable to the pachyderms. Their hands were often far too gargantuan to operate the delicate machinery they were charged with keeping. It was, for all intents, a mutually beneficial arrangement. It made her hackles raise a little every time she looked at them. The hyena clans were free to come and go as they pleased, and almost all of them valued that above everything else. Those who would willingly submit to the rule of others were, in the eyes of the Red Pelt, worse than lions. And of those feline bastards, she looked to the center of the gathering and makeshift table.

For reasons known only to the Man in White, the lion prides had been given the duty of being administrators for the Savannah. The eco-system was a delicate thing, and they kept track of the who, what and the why.

“At least this pride takes their White given duty as nothing more than bookkeepers, unlike some other prides,” she thought. Ruby rubbed at her throat in an absent reminder of the male lion who had nearly strangled her some time ago and his declaration that once her clan was dealt with, the others would simply fall in line. She did not know why anyone would consider her small clan as being important, but lion prides like that one saw themselves as would be kings. To them, she figured, being an administrator of the grasslands meant ruling over it as the humans tried to do with one another. Finally, apart from her own kind, were the cheetahs.

Ruby found she had most in common with these swift felines. They, like her own people, were opportunists, simply looking out for the best way to get by in their strange, mutated world. For them, with their blinding speed, it meant they were couriers, letter carriers, or raiders for hire. They didn’t care who they worked for or what the job was. When they weren’t working, they were generally good for nothing but laying about in the sun. The matriarch shook her head as her eldest daughter, Fang, leaned over and whispered.

“Mother, are these meetings always so boring?” Ruby smiled, showing off white teeth as she blew the stalk of grass from her muzzle.

“Yes, they are, my dear. They have been ever since I’ve been coming to them when I was just a pup. But they’re important for us.” Ruby made a lazy gesture with one hand. “Not every clan, or pride, or group is gathered here. Just someone to represent the others. The lions, to do their job, need to be informed about any major changes among us, or those not blessed by the White.” She leaned back against her heavy cruiser and the bike only groaned slightly in protest.

“And the only reason we’re here is the same reason my matriarch brought me last. Because you’ve got something to tell them. We just have to wait our turn.” Fang gave the elderly hyena a dubious look and then shook her head. Ruby understood her daughter’s feelings. This was boring, and she wished it was over. Her ears twitched at the sound of engines coming closer. Some clan was arriving late, which was not uncommon. What was unusual was the pitched giggling and laughing they were making as they came closer to the meeting. While she was never big on formalities, this gathering was an exception. Ruby stood up slowly and brushed her hindquarters off to see just who made that racket.

Her vibrant eyes narrowed at the flash of white spots on dark fur. A growl rose low in her throat as her muzzle opened in a slight snarl.

“Night Pelts,” Ruby said. Four of them had rode towards the gathering with their matriarch, Ebony, at the lead. For as long as she could remember, the Red Pelt and the Night Pelts had been rivals. She didn’t know why, but the two always seemed to fight over food, bikes, males, or anything else. What had, as Ruby recalled, once been simply friendly competition had somehow morphed into a deadly bloodsport between them. The commotion of the arrivals put a pause on the meeting as Ebony got off her bike, followed by three males. Two of the males were carrying something in their hands. The sound of something dragging along the ground reached the ears of the Red Pelt matriarch.

While the other animals were in various states of dress, or undress Ruby was clad in her typical tube top, vest, and almost thong cut shorts. Her massive fists rested on her hips as Ebony made an approach. The Night Pelt was dressed almost in a mirror fashion to Ruby.

“Ruby!” Ebony began with a smile that made Ruby’s fur stand on end. “There you are. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to look for you.” Ebony turned to the lions and gave a mocking wave. “Sorry, sorry, I know these meetings are so very important, but this won’t take long.” She didn’t hide the sardonic tone of her voice, which made Ruby give a quick glance to the lion and lioness at the center of the meeting. Neither one looked pleased, but they did nothing to allow whatever was happening to play out. The rivalry between the two hyena clans was well known.

“Now then, Ruby, you would not believe the things my boys discovered. Oh, I think you’re going to find it simply fascinating.” The crimson furred matriarch had to fight every instinct to punch the smirk right off the face of her rival and instead let out an irritated breath.

“Fine, Ebony, what do you have to show me?” Ruby kept her voice even and calm knowing that when Ebony was trying to bait her the one thing the Night Pelt hated most was not getting a visible or verbal rise out of her. That smirking muzzle dropped a little as she turned and sauntered over to her clan mates, with Ruby following her.

“Well, it just so happens my sweet boys found these two man-things out in the wilds. And one of them said he was looking for you.” There was a dangerous cooing in Ebony’s voice that made Ruby growl in response. “Now, I wonder just what in the White that could be about.” The Night Pelt put on a facade of innocence with her body language and voice, but Ruby knew better. By now it was well known that the Red Pelt had saved the life of a human, taken him back to a human city and, in the process, killed several of the White-Touched that joined and served the Nile-Walkers. That choice had caused her no end of annoyance from the lions and other clans who wanted to know where she and the Red Pelt stood in the conflict. They all got the same answer. Ruby helped the human because it had been the right thing to do. Those who had died did so simply because they got in her way.

As she approached, the two males dropped what they were carrying roughly onto the ground. Ruby saw, at first, an older looking human male with a strong face, a body to match, and the lines of age etched into his eyes and the close cut hair on his head. The other human made Ruby blink and her tail began to wag involuntarily. Blonde hair waved back and forth as the human shook his head and pulled himself up to sit on his knees. She got closer and dropped into a squat to meet the single brilliant blue eyes of the man she had saved. He saw her, and despite the bruises and obvious pain he was in, he gave her a smile that would have made the old hyena blush if she were able.

“I told you I would find you.” He said with a voice so matter-of-fact and determined that Ruby could not stop the laugh that rose in her throat. It was not the giggling that alerted others to their presences, or set one’s nerves on end, but a full rich laugh that made her body shake and her chest bounce as she put one hand on her head with amazement. When she was finished laughing, all she could do was smile back at the human.

“Yes, you did. I’m impressed with you pup. You sounded determined back then, and you carried through.” Ruby felt an odd stirring in her body as the male looked at her, smiled at her. She remembered the feel of his hand on her fur and wanted to feel that again. “Well, let’s get you to my clan since you came all this way.”

Her keen eyes had seen the rope they tied him and the other elderly man up with. She stood up and reached for them when a sudden yip reached her ears and one of the Night Pelt males shot forward and grabbed her by the wrist.

“No! The hoo-mans ours! We find! We…” his words died on his maw as Ruby drew up to her full and imposing height. Her fangs were barred at the smaller male who let go of her wrist. But the insult was done and before Ebony could react, the male was sent flying backwards as a massive fist smashed into the male’s face. Bone and cartilage crunched with satisfaction to the Red Pelt’s ears as she sent the Night Pelt soaring.

Cursing, one of the other males charged at her and only found his chest cracking as her powerful foot met his dash. The blow caused him to flip backwards and slide along the ground behind Ruby. Before the fight continued another second, a powerful, ear-splitting roar caused everyone to pause. The lion at the center of the gathering had let loose the deep, powerful call that Ruby felt even in her chest. She shook her head and turned to see the lion and lioness approach the two clan matriarchs.

“Ruby of the Red Pelt, Ebony of the Night Pelt, what is the meaning of this? You both know that fighting is not allowed at the Gathering. Explain.” It was the lioness, with a pair of spectacles specially made for her by the Keepers. Ruby had often thought of getting a pair herself for reading. The matriarch simply snorted and ignored the two lions in favor of freeing John Irons and his fellow man. After the two were free is when she spoke.

“We fought because these two humans came looking for me. And since they were looking for me, they are under the care of my clan.” Ruby helped John to his feet and then gingerly helped the older man up. He was still not as fully aware as John, so instead she picked him up to carry him. “And because one of her males decided to put his hands on me and lay claim on them knowing they were looking for me.”

“And why are they looking for you Ruby?” the lion asked. His voice was deep and rumbled every word as it was spoken.

“Does it matter? They came looking for me, and they found me. That’s all I care about.”

“That may be so,” the lioness said, “but if this is the human you saved and took to the place of Casa that the Engle-Landers control, then it matters a great deal. The men-people may have their war, and any may freely choose to join or not, but it will not come here. It must not come here.” Ruby sighed. The lion was right. This was neutral ground for all. There would be fights after the Gathering was over. It was just the way of things when each had to compete for prey and water. John cleared his throat, causing everyone gathered to look at him.

“Uh, if I may, miss?” The lioness blinked, unsure, and unused to be addressed in such a way. She nodded slowly. “Thank you,” he continued, “I didn’t come here for any reason but my own. I’m not here to bring war or anything like that to you or your people. I would like to spend time with Ruby, and her clan, if I may, to study and research her people and this strange new world we all find ourselves in.”

The lioness’ tail thrashed through the air as she considered these words. Ruby fought back a smile. The male had a sweet tongue in his head and it only made her own tail wag with delight.

“And what will you do with this information?” she asked. Ruby noticed every muscle in the female’s body was tensing for an answer she may not like.

“Simply to learn, miss.” John answered as if he were oblivious to danger right in front of him. “What others may do with such information, I cannot say or promise. But, for myself, I wish to learn and maybe understand. Maybe if we know more, we can find some common ground and actually share this world with each other.” Something stirred in Ruby’s chest as she heard him speak and watched the way he handled himself. The lioness relaxed a little and then nodded.

“Very well.” She said and then sighed. “And since we are here, and we all know how much you hate to be here, Ruby, what business did you have to bring up?” Ruby adjusted the elderly man a little before she answered.

“To say that, my daughter has decided to move off and start a clan of her own. She will take males and supplies of the Red Pelt to begin her clan with my blessings. Everything after that is for her to tell you. Is that all?” The lioness nodded, and Ruby did so in return as she walked off. But she could feel the burning hate of Ebony boring into her back. Ruby just sighed. This human seemed to cause her trouble. But as he looked up at her, she could only smile.

As the sun began to full sink under the horizon and night fell across the Savannah, Ruby, John Irons, Jurgen, and the few clan members who had attended the gathering arrived back at the spot the Red Pelt clan had claimed for their own land. Ruby handed over the wounded elderly human to Root while she took John into the large salvaged camper trailer which served as her home among the nomadic caravan.

“Now then, John,”she said with a husky voice, “I’d like to feel your hands on me some more.” He looked at her curiously as she closed the door behind her.

The End.