In the jungle... the mighty jungle...

[Ivy]

Cursing under her breath the young woman looked down to inspect the scratch she had just received from one of the low lying bushes. Her choice in clothing for this particular expedition was a bit... lacking. While she had pulled on some wherryhide boots instead of the sandals she favored, her shorts came barely to mid-thigh and left her legs between that point down to mid-calve where her boots hit open for assault. Making her way forward a few more steps she lifted her leg up to rest her right foot on the raised root of a nearby tree. Leaning forward a bit she ran her fingers over the scratch briefly before deciding it was only minor and standing up straight again.

Sharp blue eyes glanced around her and full lips tugged up in a smile as she saw some of the herbs she'd been after. Slipping between a few trees she crouched down and cut the stems with the dagger she'd produced from inside of her boot. Tucking the herbs into the bag draped over her shoulder she stood once more and looked around with a sigh.

The herb gathering for the infirmary was really just an excuse to leave the Weyr. She couldn't stand it anymore in the barracks, and it seemed anytime she left the infirmary she ran into one of those sharding Wastelanders - after what they'd pulled at Millieth's hatching she had been trying to avoid them least her distaste become too evident. So when one of the healers noted that they were getting low on some of the medicinal herbs they used she volunteered to get some herself. She had told them she'd be taking a rider with her since everyone knew there were felines roaming the jungle but she had lied - she just wanted to be alone. Besides she'd been out here a full hour already and hadn't seen any signs of felines.

Ahead the trees thinned a bit into what was almost a clearing, but not quite one at the same time. Eyes played over the bushes, small trees, and other foliage in the mock clearing area before she stepped out from between the trees. Spying more herbs she made her way over to cut them, pushing the low bush away as she crouched and pulled out her dagger.

Ah, a peaceful day of herb gathering. Just what she needed to get her mind off of things.

[Requiem]

Unbeknownst to the candidate who did not plan very well (see: shorts and boots while crawling through overgrown jungles) a very different - and possibly more dangerous - pair of predators was stalking her at this very moment. Sun-darkened and just this side of underfed, their skin proof enough against the growth that they could make their way with little clothing through the jungle, it really wasn't her fault that she didn't see them. This was their world, after all.

One of the pair stopped his careful creeping not far from their unsuspecting victim. He spent his days stripped to the waist in these hot Selenitas summers, and he took small but real pleasure from digging his toes into the warm dirt and loam while he waited to make sure his cohort was in position. A brief flash of white teeth that was more feral than smile, and he sprung.

He'd gone for her back. Naturally. After such a long time away from women, he was certain that her ugliness - not to mention her breath - would overwhelm him in the crucial moment and he'd hesitate long enough for her to scamper away. (That or, more likely, coming into contact with her atrociously large lady lumps would turn his stomach, thereby ruining his dinner. And dinner should never be ruined by atrociously large lady lumps.) Either way, he was certain his companion didn't mind being stuck with the front.

His arms encircled her in a death grip from behind, clasping beneath the horrendous bust and pinning the woman's arms to her side. A leg slid between hers to keep her off-balance and from having any convenient parts of him to kick out at. Now if his friend could just get that bag over her head expeditiously, they could get her properly bound and carted off. These were lean times, after all...and there was a nice large pot of simmering water nearby waiting for some nice fresh meat.

[Lotty]

Be very, very, quiet. They were hunting bunny wabbits candidates. In this case it was the very rare flame haired ones, who when prepared correctly, were absolutely delectable; an exotic sort of taste for palates so used to the typical fare that came trouncing through their neck of the woods. Why he was smacking and licking his lips just thinking about it there from his hiding place up amongst the trees. He'd been watching now for a while, brief jumps and swings probably caused a rattle around in the foliage, but then the girl would hardly be looking up when she was more worried about the felines poaching her there on the ground. He thought he was succeeding at being rather quiet anyway, stripped to the essentials - save maybe a feather or two tangled into his hair - there was rather little on his body to jostle around as he stalked closer and closer. Barefooted as he was, he side stepped along the length of the limb he was on, crouching as he waited for the woman to fall neatly into their grasps.

Bagging such game as this, however, was not a one man type of affair, there were definitely many dangers... his partner had pointed out the particularly unsavory aspects like the threat of sharp little nails that could dig out a man's still beating heart or of course the cold gorgons stare which legend foretold could turn a mere mortal to stone. Hence the bag. Or at least that was what the man was telling himself - hey imagination time made everything that much more fun.

Resisting the urge to hoop and holler in the process, the shirtless jungle denizen dropped down from his perch easily and sprinted forward with all the speed that could be garnered in just a few steps. Seeing that her arms - and therefore easy use of that small knife she had in her hands - had been pinned and put away, the man opened the sack with a quick flick of his wrists and in short order had it secured over her head before he attended to the loose belt of sorts that had been wrapped around his waist. In reality, it was none other than your everyday rope, which was now going to be put to use tying up their hopeless victim. A blue firelizard in the meantime flicked in from between and handled the girl's only weapon, landing on her forearm to begin pulling the dagger out from between her fingers. All of this in only a few moments and without even so much as a word. Well, except maybe two, if they could be called those at all. As the rope began to be looped around the man somewhat dryly blurted, "Oooga Booga" at their captive.

[Ivy]

Of course she hadn't seen the two men sneaking their way behind her through the dense jungle growth.

Of course she hadn't seen them as they hopped from limb to limb above her - she was far too focused on her own thoughts and searching for herbs on the ground. Why would she have looked up? Herbs didn't grow on the trees, or at least the ones she was after today didn't. So she went on her merry way cutting the herbs with her dagger and tucking them into her bag.

After cutting her latest prize from the ground she stands up and her free hand moves to brush her tank top's strap back up onto her shoulder... and then she was attacked. Strong bare arms wrapped around her just under her bust and held her so she had no use of her arms. Thrown a bit off balance by a leg pressing between hers she immediately began to flail and struggle in his grasp.

Confusing and fear flashed through her blue eyes as she saw another man coming at her. She tried to pull away from the man holding her to avoid the one coming at her but she wasn't able to. Still struggling as a bag is pulled over her head she suddenly finds her voice and lets out an ear piercing scream for help - not that anyone was likely to be around to hear her.

Knees pressed in against the leg positioned between hers, trying to put enough pressure on the man that he'd move - even just an inch so she could regain her footing and perhaps escape. Shoulders were twisting back and forth as he held her back against his chest, arms useless to her.

"HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! LET ME GO!!!"

Ivy felt something land on her arm and begin prying at her fingers, which were no use against the nips and bites they received, soon her dagger was taken. Still thrashing about she put all of her effort into escaping. "STOP IT LET ME GO!!!!!!"

[Requiem]

Fortunately, his companion managed the hood readily enough. Though the older of Ivy's two attackers was sincerely wishing right about now that he had an arm free to shove something conveniently silencing into her mouth. (No, for once this wasn't a sexual reference. As it rarely was with women.) Instead he figure that a sharp knee to the groin, while not as painful as it might be to a man, would certainly be painful enough to shut her up for a few seconds. And so he did.

The wiggly fish-woman was not large enough to compete with someone of his strength, anyway. He willed the shirtless man before him to work swifter at tying her arms, immediately releasing his hold around her middle and grasping her by the looped rope instead as he professionally kicked her feet out from under her to land her on her knees. A much more appropriate place for her.

Gesturing for the other man to finish with her ankles, he stepped around her, keeping a hand on the rope binding her arms as he went. He then crouched in front of her and slapped her hard. "Ilk da rux," he snapped brusquely. So what if the language was completely made up? She didn't know that, and if she thought they didn't understand her maybe she'd stop shrieking so much.

That would definitely be an improvement. At least there was the consolation of a nice big boiling pot waiting for their pleasure not too far away.

[Lotty]

And down she went.

He probably should have felt bad. She was a pretty girl, or at least by his standards she was something he would entertain for while, canoodle with for her appearances alone but - like most women - probably abandon after self sabotage or even just plain boredom. Now however, he was a little too warped to think on even that kind of level. There was a hierarchy of needs after all, and hunger was a whole lot more important than trying to court little weyr candidates. After he had feasted on Ivy-soup, then maybe one of her friends could come out looking for her. In that case he could be a little more creative. Maybe then he can woo a new mate, but until that happened he had to worry about what was for dinner. Or at very least using her as a bargaining chip for something better and better.

On her knees it wasn't too much of a task to finish tying her up, moving briefly to her ankles to wrap the last of his rope there into a secure knot. It had to hold up considering the way he had thought to transport her. Yeah it might seem a little bit... primitive... but then that was the whole aesthetic they were going for wasn't it? Blinded as she was, the girl couldn't see the hand signals that the man was making, but she could surely hear the clicking he made with his tongue, and of course the nonsense language the two of them had been making there on the spot, "MMMmmm surrrr laka bak!" He said with a clapping sound. Two hands were held out in front of him to signify a long pole. They could carry her that way to their camp right?

He ran back into the brush to pick up the long pole he had hid there and drug it out next to her kneeling form. No... that wouldn't do. He needed her face down on the ground to hook this up, and with his bare foot, pushed down on her shoulder until she complied. From that point forward, it was only a matter of hooking up the pole to the looser loops in the coils around the woman's legs and mid half. Really he thought it a pretty easy way to tote her around since at least this way even her squiggling wouldn't do much to throw off either of them. All it took was for his partner to follow his suit: picking up one end of the stick and setting it on the shoulder for easy transport.

"Gurrrr ot la oilbay op!" He said encouragingly and pointing off in the direction of their makeshift kitchen.

[Ivy]

The breath left her briefly as she was kneed in the groin, getting the point clearly from that move. Still she continued to struggle and she kicked out at whoever was in front of her, hoping to make contact and do at least some damage. After kicking out she felt the arms around her pull away but with her arms bound she was still mostly helpless. Another kick of her right leg was given and as soon as her foot came back to the ground she felt her feet being swept out from under her. Knees hit the ground hard and she cried out in pain as her bare flesh landed on rocks, leaves, and branches.

While she was still crying out over forced kneeling she suddenly got a hard slap in the face. Head jerked to the side and she screamed even as the man uttered some nonsense to her. Another loud scream was wretched from her lungs as she cried out for help - surely SOMEONE would hear her if she kept yelling, right?

She kicked at whoever was trying to bind her ankles, though as she was on her knees it wasn't very effective. Soon her ankles were bound as well as her arms and she started to throw all her weight into her shoulders as she flailed and struggled - nevermind that she looked ridiculous, she was hoping the knots would loosen and she could get away!

More screams. More flailing. That is until she felt a rough foot pressing her forward and soon she fell onto her belly on the ground. Another cry of pain was given as she landed on her chest - a very uncomfortable hit on her large bossoms - and her nose hit a rock. Who were these men?! What were they saying?! She was sure she had never heard such a language before, were they some unknown forest people?! Her mind was in full panic mode at this point and while she struggled and wriggled on the ground she felt herself being lifted by her binds.

How was she going to get out of this?
"HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLP MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! LET ME GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

[Requiem]

Working well together. K'sel certainly knew how to truss up a fire-haired porker. (Sorry, but women with tits that size were all porkers. How did she even manage to remain upright?) Not that he could complain too much; more meat meant fuller tummies. Now, something he could complain about was that constant shrieking. She'd wandered too far to be heard save for some fluke of chance, but she was giving him a headache.

So, before hefting the stick-turned-pole to a lean shoulder, he pulled up the bag enough to stuff a truly nasty handkerchief from his pocket into that gaping hole in her face that she called a mouth, tugging the hood back down and tightening his belt around her mouth before she could spit out the handkerchief. He might have blown his nose in it; he couldn't remember. There. Properly gagged and no longer headache-inducing. Satisfied, he hefted his end and called back to his accomplice "Sarek ho tay!"

And onward they went at a light jog, the man making certain to jostle her about a fair amount (though, out of the boundless kindness of his middle-aged heart, he didn't smack her into any branches or trees along the way). So they came to the small clearing. A clearing which let very little light in due to the overhanging branches, just large enough to set up their cooking equipment. Time to have a roast!

Dropping their captive unceremoniously, he turned to his companion and gestured to the large pot that had yet to have a fire lit beneath it. "Eared na rumuroasto prorek?" Such issues must be carefully coordinated, after all, or their reddened sow would be squealing off into the nearby foliage.

[Lotty]

"Tow ho ho..." the man blabbered in response as he harshly jerked the pole again. Maybe if he wasn't so deep into the role, he would have given his companion a sharp glare for the rough handling of their prize... but as it was he was having far too much fun and did his bit to give her a good jostle here and there too. It certainly helped that she had that rag in her mouth now. The cries for help were insufferable, not because he was afraid they would be found out for the kidnappers they were, but because of the pure futility of it all. It was senseless noise, for no matter how much she hollered they were not going to let her go. She was their meal. He had every intention of cooking the girl. Maybe cut her hair off and making some pretty red thread with it or something to decorate his own head with while they were at it. It was nothing personal, really.

But here they were. At the cusp of success, and yes, maybe in the excitement the girl was kinda dropped, but he had work to attend to. When the older man pointed to the unheated cauldron - oh how convenient would it have been if someone else had played along and started the fire for them - he immediately patted down the pockets of his torn and tattered slacks to find a flint - that he knew he really didn't have - before giving up and going with the old fashioned stick method. "Meecrob.... " he said with some resignation as he knelt down and scooped together what tinder was left there from earlier experiments. It was a fickle sort of business, but after having been here for so long, he was rather good at the sometimes overwhelming task of making flame out of nothing.

It was a matter of minutes before the dark haired wildman was huffing life giving air into little cinders and grinning all too happily with the primitive excitement that came anytime a man managed to start a fire, "MMMmmmmmmmgooooo....." it was probably the closest thing to a rational language for Pernese ears but it was lost again when the man clicked and chattered his teeth to draw attention back to him. Look! Things were just about ready. Personally he could wait to start chopping up tubers and tossing them into the pot along with their delicious Ivy.

[Ivy]

There was hope, albeit brief hope, when she felt the hood over her head being pulled up. She thought the men had seen the error of their ways in kidnapping a defenseless young woman. She thought perhaps they were from Selenitas and they were just playing a joke on her. Oh the laughs they could share together once she'd been untied and had given each of them a hard smack.

Oh how wrong she was.

Mouth was still partially open from the last cry for help, thus it was easy for one of the men to shove a rag in her mouth. The taste was horrid and she gagged immediately - however before she could spit it out the hood was back and something was secured around it to keep the rag in her mouth. Ew. The rag didn't keep her very quiet, she still attempted to cry out though her cries were muffled now. She gave muffled yelps as they began to walk with her and jostled her around - even without seeing them she felt as if they were doing it on purpose, the jerks.

The walking ceased and she hit the ground with a muffled 'oomph' coming from her. She could hear the men walking away from her, though she didn't know how far. Still it seemed as though they were both clearly nuts and this probably wasn't a joke - she had to do something. Squirming and lightly thrashing she began to try and work her wrists and her ankles up and down respectively to try and slip off the stick. She discovered after some light struggling that her binds had loosened a bit, no doubt thanks to all the jostling about during the walk to wherever it was they were. Trying to remain quiet since she was under the assumption they weren't looking she continued to twist and tug until she felt the binds on her wrists give way. SUCCESS!

She laid there frozen for a moment, not wanting to draw attention to herself as she heard the men talking. One of them let out what sounded like a victory cry and she couldn't help but wonder what he was victorious over. Slowly she curled until she could reach her ankles and her fingers worked blindly at undoing the binds there. Fumbling and cursing herself inside her head it took a few moments but finally those too came free. Now all she needed to do was get her hood off, spit out the nasty rag, and run - assuming her captives had not yet noticed her progress in freeing herself.

[Requiem]

While his companion went about drawing fire from the grass and the air, he went over to the pot they'd painstakingly filled and peered inside to make sure nothing unexpected had decided to add itself as an ingredient. The man blinked at the snake swimming through the water, then grinned. Well. That should make it interesting. No, wait, there was another one. Two tunnelsnakes. Should just dump the girl in there with them and let them swim around her for a bit while the water heated up...

He set about dumping the various tubers, nuts and herbs they'd found (hopefully not in a combination that induced more manic behavior, but at this point what did it really matter?) into the massive cauldron. Really, now all they needed was a pair of witch hats. And two big sticks with which to stir the pot. Double, double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble, fillet of a fenny snake, in the cauldron boil and bake. Eye of newt and toe of frog...well darn. They were missing some things still, weren't they?

Maybe there were some lizards and frogs around here somewhere...

Wait a second. This recipe didn't require a full person. Just liver, nose and lips. Bugger. Ferreting out two of the large sticks, he squinted at the girl. Jew, Tartar, Turk...well, she definitely wasn't a Tartar or a Turk. Too pasty. Jews had mixed with all kinds of pasty people, though. Nice, some liver... Striding over to the pitifully struggling hooded girl, he crouched near her, just far enough away that her flailings were unlikely to come into contact with him.

As soon as she doffed the hood, he poked her in the stomach, pinning her to the ground with the stick. "Say, you wouldn't happen to be a Jew, would you?" Apparently he'd grown tired of speaking gobbledygook. (This was really important. The wrong liver could make good things happen. Oh the horror.) Waving a hand at K'sel in acknowledgement of the success with the fire, the lean Fort rider - turned Selenitas rider - turned exile smiled a little evilly at Ivy.

[Lotty]

K'sel was admiring his work when he swore to the clouds above that F'ur just said one of the most ridiculous things he had to of ever heard. Frankly the brownrider didn't even know if he should laugh or give his best expression of sheer horror, because really did his companion really just ask their captive if she was a Jew? All progress was stopped in favor of the young man slowly rising to full height and turning on a heel and putting on his best befuddled face, "Not to question your good authority or anything.... but what exactly does ones "Jewness" have to do with how she is going work for us?" It was probably a little jarring to the girl - more so than their rough handling - to hear the pair of men go from nonsense language to almost perfect Pernese, but then K'sel had assumed that if F'ur was done playing the lost tribe game then he was too.

Taking a few steps closer, the brownrider placed a hand on his hip and another thoughtfully on his chin as he prodded her side with his foot, "Besides, the way you're steppin on her she appears to be an Ottoman more than anything." Even if her hair made her out to be something from some kind of Gaulish hoard... this was all beyond the point as far as he was concerned, because unless the bluerider had made some drastic changes to the plans they needed to do something with the girl other than poke her in the hopes that raspberry jelly was going to start oozing from her belly button. In fact, to ensure this the younger of the two kneeled down and wagged a little paring knife he had been using at Ivy's nose, "But stop wiggling around would you? You'll make this much easier if you relax, I don't want to dine on tough gamy meat, we picked your fine voluptuous self for a reason you know..."

Pulling back he looked at F'ur and gestured to the pot with a flourish, "So did you want to do the honors?"

[Ivy]

Blue eyes widened and she glared up at the pair. "You aren't some crazy tribal wild men?! LET ME GO!"

She was screaming, a bit frantic, and a bit confused - which only added to the high pitch in her voice. She began to thrash around again, which only served to getting a knick on her nose from the small knife. A soft whimper escaped her lips and when he spoke to her again she went still and batted her eyes, "I am more useful for things other than eating."

Sure one of them might not fall for it, but maybe the other one would. A girl could only try, right? She sure wasn't about to allow herself to be dinner for these two mongrels, she knew that much as she spared a glance towards the pot. Taking a deep breath she looked up at K'sel and batted those big blue eyes again, giving the best smile she could manage in the situation. "Please if you let me go, I won't tell anyone about this. I'll go get you something from the kitchens if you'd like..."

She couldn't rightly figure out why they didn't just go get food from the Weyr themselves, though they didn't look very familiar to her. Maybe they weren't riders? But what Holdfolk would be wandering around the jungle like these two were? And even if they were from one of the Holds, they could just go to the Weyr themselves for food, right? Surely they didn't really intend to eat her... right?

[Requiem]

Ottoman. Yeah, sure. F'ur glanced at K'sel, then snorted softly. "Well, of course," he began, as if speaking to a particularly retarded child, "if we use the liver of a non-Jew, our curse won't work properly. In fact, it will probably benefit Selenitas. You wouldn't want that just to get a chance at her fatty flesh, would you?" He whacked the girl's knuckles with his stick. "Stop being so loud. You're giving me a headache. Can you guess the simplest way for me to shut you up?" His smile was not at all pleasant.

Bugger. Was she trying to flirt with them? No. Not them. K'sel. Well, that showed at least some limited amount of intelligence; F'ur was impervious to a woman's flirtations. Unless the goal was to make him queasy to his stomach. All that floppy, fatty flesh. Yuck. No, she wasn't trying to flirt, she was desperately grasping at straws.

"Sure. Send you to the kitchens. You and I both know how likely the chances are that you'll come back. Though...are you sure you want him to agree to your offer? We've been out here a very, very long time." Eyes narrowed calculatingly. Then he shrugged a shoulder. "Well, I still don't condone eating her without knowing her origins, but there are some pretty tunnel snakes what dropped in the pot. Some of those are supposed to be poisonous."

With that, the middle-aged rider leaned forward and scooped the woman up, throwing her over his shoulder as he straightened from his crouch. Though it pained him to have to touch her, he continued on valiantly, moving toward the pot and the (possibly) poisonous snakes. "If you have any practical suggestions for compensation, now would be the time to voice them," he commented cheerfully to his fire-haired flabber.

[Lotty]

It was all good in theory... but it really didn't make sense to worry about what kind of liver it was when he wasn't the most superstitious of creatures. Well except when it came to the subject of ghosts.... yes ghosts... shut your face they are totally and completely real! K'sel himself was convinced that it was perhaps the ghost of long dead classmates - though whether they were enacting their revenge on him for all the times he was a complete dick, or helping him along as the sole representative of their clutch was to be debated. Still, he could laugh in the face of a regular old curse or magic spell; the words sim sala bim would not be his downfall.

He became slightly distracted though. A woman trying to flirt her way out of the situation with him.... it almost didn't deserve his attention but an eye-roll couldn't be quelled as the words slipped out of her mouth. Such a familiar tactic to him it seemed, and her words burned against the innards of his ears. More useful things than eating? Oh please, he was even offended enough to say something about it, "Listen here sweetie..." he started off nice enough, "you are trying to seduce a selfish, jaded, cynic of legendary status... the likes a of which produced only by ample experience dealing with soul sucking succubi such as yourself. I know you can do better than this... you insult me with your weak attempts... BE GONE WITH YOU INTO OUR SNAKE STEW!"

He waved one hand away non-chalantly as the other perched on his hip and he turned on his heels away from her. Though the prospect that she could bring them something was tempting... presuming it wasn't just nasty kitchen food. He turned his head to peer over his shoulder before following suit with the rest of his body and swooping in grab her shoulder and keep her from falling prey to the poisonous tunnelsnakes within. With a glance to his companion he felt a rather childish streak building up in his veins, "Practical is of course a relative term... what kinds of things do you do for fun anyway? Got any toys you can give us? I doooo so like the paddle ball games... oh and the whatchamacall its with the little metal springs..." he started snapping his fingers to come up with the name, but the process meant letting her go to where she could fall right back into that pot of water.