Smother
The distant sound of water rumbling erupts in my ears.
Turkish is wrapped around my neck, three times over. His head is resting on my smooth wither, surely he is counting his blessing I am not a shark-finned Thoroughbred. I am strong, thick, muscular, and all tied together with a feminine knot. My back isn’t long, it is short. My rump is round, my shoulders and chest prominent. My neck thick from my Warlander line, and my face a delicately sculpted female shape. He has the bold and strength that is needed to carry his enormous body, and I have the prettiness I need to use to my advantage should I see fit.
The best of both worlds, one could say.
The Jungle is a journey from the Meadow, with hills to climb and valleys to trudge through. I walk through thick forests, and wander through tall grass. I cross a river or two, wade through a stream, all the while acclimatizing to the growing humidifying climate.
It just keeps getting wetter.
Turkish has been quiet for an hour now, his soft breathing almost soothing along my neck. I feel his entire body expand and contract. I feel his head loll with the gait and every so often he readjusts his position. Almost like the friend I never truly got to have.
He is the friend I never got to have. Not almost. Is.
It doesn’t take long for the forest to transform into an Amazon jungle, and when it does I am mystified. Surely, this offer had been given to me before. I had been welcomed with open arms by Lagertha years when I first left him. When I was offered it before, I wasn’t in any position to make a commitment. I was young, naïve, and a little bit too rash. I knew deciding on a home would only be temporary, and as much as I didn’t care about ditching a kingdom mid-way through, I knew it wasn’t the best decision for my game.
I try to play the forward thinker.
The jungle is thick, I cannot see farther than three feet beyond the pathway. I hear the distant sound of cooing from what I can only guess is monkeys. Sometimes I see yellow glowing eyes in the shadow of large leaves, and the occasional snake linking itself around a tree.
Turkish will like it here.
We make it to a clearing, my body slightly sweating from the moisture and heat. Around me I smell females, bursting estrogen and energy. I almost want to call it refreshing, but we all know I am just not entirely sure I can be happy about anything.
After all, with every happy thought comes my darkness three times stronger.
“Turkish,” I whisper, my voice for the first time being soft and smooth. He is all I care about now. He is my only go to, my partner, my friend.
The only creature I long to keep healthy.
Don’t baby me.
I smile.
The Jungle is wide and open in the center, the pathways leading up to the center however are thin and compact. A watering ground is to my left with faint miniature waterfalls spotting up the creek. I see women everywhere of different builds and colours, all with some sort of tattoo forming an allegiance to their home.
Turkish lifts his head before slithering to the ground, practically disappearing in the long emerald blades. I feel his body coil itself underneath me for shade, and also protection. All ten feet of him folds and wraps underneath me till not even the tip of his tail peaks out.
He has been boring lately, but I can understand his excitement to smell familiar grass. It must feel nice to be at a home you feel “perfects” you.
I wait patiently for Lagertha, who no doubt has caught scent of my arrival.
