Intended Ch. 02

As all females, the young woman already possessed a certain proficiency in identifying foodstuffs and commonly used medicinal plants, a skill developed since early childhood. However, under Mala's tutelage, her knowledge base exploded almost exponentially, and the girl absorbed the new information as the earth takes in water after a soaking rain.

On one of their later expeditions, the pair encountered a fungus Sala had, up until that point, only heard her mother's mother describe. After the older woman explained precisely how to identify these very special mushrooms, they harvested the quantity necessary for the desired effect. The specimens were then hidden near the bottom of Mala's gathering pouch. Once dried, she concealed them in a small decorated bag given to her by her second mate. Somehow, it seemed appropriate.

On the eve of Sala's passage into womanhood, as was their people's custom, Mala took her on an overnight excursion. Its purpose was to prepare her for adulthood, where they would discuss such matters as men, sexual relationships, pregnancy and childbirth, mating and managing a hearth. Anything the young female wished to know or any wisdom her mentor considered important to pass on were open for discussion. The event took place away from the Camp to encourage open and honest dialog, as emerging women often felt shy voicing their questions and concerns in more public settings.

So it was under these circumstances that the two embarked on a covert, unauthorized voyage using the sacred magic of the mushrooms they had gathered together. It forever changed the way they saw the world, both this one and the next, and brought them even closer. Sala had never known such intimacy with anyone, even her own mother, as when she and Mala traveled to the Spirit World that night.

Less than a month after their otherworldly visit, the older woman disappeared into the woods for unknown reasons. In recent days Sala had been spending a significant portion of her time sharing furs with a variety of men, learning about the pleasures of the body; as such, she had less time for taking walks with her mother's mother.

That evening, Mala returned to the Camp clearly frightened, her face pale, hands shaking. She pulled the young woman to a quiet place so they could speak in some privacy.

"Sala, I trust you have told no one of the knowledge you hold?" she inquired, her dark eyes darting furtively.

"Of course not, Mala. Why? What is wrong?"

"It is not safe to speak of it now. But promise me this. Tell nothing of the wisdom you possess. Do not use what you know until it is safe," she whispered urgently. "It may be many years, but you will know when it is the right time. And even then, be certain anyone you share such things with is someone you trust with your life."

Sala pledged to honor her entreaty. At the older woman's insistence, the pair walked away from each other in opposite directions and went about their business as if the previous discussion had not occurred.

The next morning, Mala fell ill with nausea and a cold sweat. By evening she was delirious and coughing up blood. The Spiritwalker attempted to administer medicinal teas, but she vomited almost immediately after consuming them. He then tried appealing to the Spirits, but it was too late; she died in agony two days later.

The Camp was in an uproar. They knew death. Individuals died from accidents, old age, and yes, illness, every year. But in none of their memories had they witnessed someone so healthy and vital fall ill so suddenly and violently for no reason. The people clamored for an explanation, and their spiritual leader eventually agreed to meet with the Spirits to see if they could provide them the answer.

The Spiritwalker disappeared into the Ceremonial Hut for two days. When he emerged, he announced that the Spirits had responded to their appeal and instructed them all to gather that night for the revelation.

In the darkness, the air charged with anxious anticipation, speculative conversations buzzed here and there. Sala, the pain of her loss fresh and raw, spoke to no one, but she shared their concern and need for answers.

Amid this atmosphere of suspense and mystery, the shaman suddenly appeared, seemingly from nowhere, in front of the expectant crowd. Gesturing dramatically, he announced that the Spirits had revealed all. He pulled from the waistband of his leggings a small leather bag and held it up for all to see. Upon sight of it Sala's mouth grew dry; it was Mala's secret hiding place for the mushrooms!

"Mala acquired forbidden knowledge of the Other World, knowledge of magic only Spiritwalkers may possess," he stated with authority, revealing the pouch's contents. "It was not clearly shown to me how she obtained such information, but it is possible she may have learned it from the old Spiritwalker without his awareness. As you know, he became quite feeble in his end years.

"The Spirits tell me that Mala attempted a journey to the Spirit World, without the aid of a Spiritwalker, by consuming a sacred plant. By instead eating a similar-appearing, but poisonous twin, she demonstrated a fatal lack of wisdom regarding this powerful spiritual tool."

A collective gasp rippled throughout the audience. Then the murmuring started. How could this have happened? Why would Mala do such a thing? She had always been so sensible. Yes, but she was always too curious for her own good.

Sala sat in silence, shaking, filled with grief and incredulous anger. He lied! Mala would not make a mistake like that, and she certainly would not attempt to visit the Spirit World alone. Is that why she was so afraid that night? Did he find out what she knew? Did she die because he... Angry as she was, she dared not finish the thought. It was impossible, unconscionable. Still, a seed had been planted.

The shaman stood before them, motioning for silence. That attained, he continued. "Let us not condemn Mala for her mistakes. We all knew her to be a good woman: a mate, a mother, a friend to many. Let us remember her in this manner. However, let her death serve as a potent reminder why knowledge of sacred wisdom and powerful magic is forbidden and can be truly comprehended only by a Spiritwalker."

Sala straightened her legs, thinking about her mother's mother as she stood up. The passage of years had not eased the emptiness her absence brought.

"Mala," she whispered, remembering her beloved mentor's face as she clutched the gathering pouch gently to her chest, "I still miss your wisdom and your company. You told me long ago that I would know when it would be safe to use the magic again. Is this a sign that now is the time? Can I trust the Tracker with the secrets I possess?"

~*~*~

As Sala returned to the camp she smiled radiantly. Observing from a distance the fullness of the leather pack slung across her shoulder, Jakal smiled as well. She has been successful, he thought, presuming the satisfaction she clearly displayed was due to her good fortune.

He watched the sunlight bounce lustrously off her thick black locks. Two narrow sections of her waist-length hair had fallen forward over her shoulders, and they swung like a curtain, exposing then concealing her symmetrical breasts as her rhythmic steps drew her ever closer.

Once again he felt a tension in his groin as his manhood began to rise. By the Spirits! Does this woman know what potent magic she possesses? He was beginning to question his earlier restraint, wondering if he had been too quick to dismiss another round of pleasures. Tearing his eyes away, he returned his attention to the object he had nearly finished carving.

Fishing in a location he had not tried before, Jakal spied a curved piece of wood, scoured smooth by water and rock, lying along the riverbank near where he stood. Picking up the driftwood, he turned it over in his hands, examining it closely.

It almost looks as a bowl, he thought, bemused. It only needs to be carved out here and shaped a little on this side. He stood for a moment, uncertain, reluctant to discard such an unusually shaped object that appeared practically at his feet. Then inspiration struck, and a wide grin formed on his face. He would make a gift for Sala, to remind her always of their time together.

While his companion was out searching for edible plants, Jakal hollowed out a concave depression with his flint tools. Once he was satisfied with its depth, he smoothed it with handfuls of sand covered by a small piece of leather.

Despite his earlier inkling to cut away at the slightly oblong side of the otherwise perfect oval, in the end he chose to leave it unaltered; its distinctive shape would make it stand out amongst her other things, and upon closer inspection, he found the shape and grain of the wood to be beautiful as it was. He smoothed only the underside so that it would remain upright when placed on the ground.

Jakal did decide to decorate the container. Using one of his finest tools, he carved a series of wavy lines around the perimeter of the bowl, symbolizing the great river on whose banks they camped. He then etched trees along either side. Within this representation of a forest, small enough that it might be missed if one did not know to look for it, he carved the image of a lean-to and campfire.

Because of this unexpected project, the man was glad Sala remained away from the camp for much of the day. He wanted to give it to her completed, as a surprise, and this was the first time they had been apart for more than a short while. Just as he finished the last tree, he heard her steps closing in on his location. He looked up into her beaming face.

"You found that which you sought," he greeted with a smile, glancing at the bulging leather sling.

Sala looked down at the long-haired man seated on a stone. "I have, and I found a special surprise as well."

"What is it?"

"I will show you later. It would not be a surprise otherwise," she responded, giving him a sly smile as she unslung the pouch from her shoulder and carefully placed it on the ground.

"Speaking of surprises, I have one for you as well. Only, you do not need to wait to discover mine." Jakal held out his gift to her.

Sala's mouth opened in astonishment as she gently fingered the smooth surface of the unusual bowl.

"Jakal, I...I do not know what to say. It is beautiful."

Giving her a self-satisfied smile, he pointed out, "If you look around its edge, you will see carvings."

Turning the vessel in her hands the woman examined the images of the flowing water flanked on both sides by a forest. "Jakal, I see a fire, and a shelter under this tree!" she almost squealed.

"It is meant to remind you of our time here, so you will not forget," he explained cheerfully, looking at her again. He was startled to see not happiness but a pained expression cross her face.

"Sala, what is it? Are you not pleased?"

It was a moment before she spoke. "Yes, I am very pleased. I am so grateful for your beautiful gift, for all of your gifts. Thank you."

"You are welcome. You have given me much as well. But you seem troubled. Are you...worried about your joining?" he dared to ask despite the outcome the last time he broached this topic.

The woman's stomach churned with renewed fear and revulsion. "I do not wish to speak of it now, Jakal. I have found us many wonderful things to eat, and I am hungry. I am sure you are as well. What we do not eat this day I will need to dry, so I should get started while the sun remains strong."

The Tracker turned his head, following Sala with his eyes as she left him for her haversack, carrying the filled pouch on her shoulder as she walked toward the lean-to. She was genuinely afraid, he was certain of it, he thought, furrowing his brow. The more he learned, or perhaps more accurately, the more he observed, the more confused he became.

~*~*~

Their bellies filled with blackened fish and an array of tubers, berries and young shoots, Jakal let out a contented sigh. It was so nice to have a meal with some variety. There are many advantages of traveling with a woman, he thought, smiling inwardly.

Perhaps the pinnacle of this feast was the surprise Sala had been saving for him: eggs she had discovered while on her walk. He had not had eggs in a long time.

"Sala, that was the most satisfying meal I have had in, well, I cannot remember the last time I felt so content after eating. Thank you."

The woman's face flushed with the compliment. "You are welcome. Was the surprise worth the wait?"

"It was," he agreed eagerly. "I have not eaten eggs in a very long time. Every time I think it is not possible for you to surprise me any more, you do it again."

She grinned broadly. "It brings me great pleasure to pleasure you," she replied, using his own words.

Even though they placed them in a sunny location, the thick leather of their garments was still quite damp after being cleaned. While it was so warm, both were content to remain naked.

Jakal was not really worried about what they would wear when the sun dropped from the sky. Between the leather pieces in their two packs and the driest furs, they could stay warm enough until it was time to sleep. But he could not help thinking that yet again, their departure had been delayed another day.

Well, what is to be done, he thought; we cannot travel in wet garments, and we cannot travel naked. Privately, even though he knew he had a duty to fulfill, that his people counted on him, he was not altogether displeased they would be staying another night in this beautiful oasis.

The Tracker had enjoyed his solitude on his long expeditions so much that he never considered it could be even better with a companion. As far as he was concerned, he would not mind living out here with the woman for a great many more days. I suppose when cold weather comes it would nice to be in a Camp, he mused. He sobered at his next thought. The Spiritwalker would most definitely mind if we did not return.

Though he had not voiced his thoughts to Sala, Jakal ruminated over the next move the shaman might make if they did not make a reappearance within whatever timeframe the man deemed appropriate. As upset as he was when he gave me my instructions, he might even send Sedon to track us both if he thinks it is taking too long.

Sedon was the Wolf Clan's other Tracker, the Lead Tracker. He was older, had more experience, and had even provided the younger man's training. Despite his position, however, Jakal thought he himself was the more skilled of the two. At the very least he had sharper instincts.

Jakal possessed a knack for anticipating his target's next move, a proclivity which guided him even when the signs were otherwise uncertain; it was one of the things which eventually led him to the woman. Still, Sedon was nonetheless a very able Tracker, and with the time they had spent in this one place, he would have no trouble figuring out they were here. And if he could make his way here...

He was torn. Even though he knew she was meant for another, he did not want to lose Sala, not after so short a time together. And he was absolutely certain, without question, that she did not wish to join with the man who chose her. Jakal did not want to make her return against her will. Although she hid the truth from him, he believed there was an important reason behind her resistance. Until he knew what it was, he wasn't sure if he could follow through with his instructions, not in good conscience.

At the same time, he was just as certain that the Spiritwalker would not allow them to simply disappear. Perhaps, if they started out soon enough and kept going and could stay several days ahead of another Tracker, they might eventually lose him. Even a Tracker will not walk forever when there are Hunters and hungry people relying on his skills closer to home. But Jakal did not know if he was ready to abandon his own people without good reason, no matter how much he cared for Sala.

He supposed he could let her go off on her own and return without her. Although the shaman would likely be extremely angry, he figured he could survive the man's wrath well enough; it would be another time when his status as a Light-Eye might prove useful. The only problem was he did not want the woman to go off on her own. He had to convince her to speak to him about what troubled her, and soon; it was the only way he could make an informed decision.

Jakal's inner battle was interrupted by the sound of Sala's voice.

"Now that we have eaten," she was saying, "will you share your body with me?"

Rousing himself from his daze, he looked blankly at the woman's smiling face.

"Will you share bodies with me, Jakal?" she repeated, noticing that he had been lost deep in his thoughts.

"Of course," he answered, smiling back, "though the furs are still wet."

"That is fine. We do not need them to give each other pleasure." Sala stood up and reached out her hand to help him up.

She leaned forward and kissed him, her tongue lazily exploring his mouth. Feeling Jakal's organ beginning to grow against her, she smiled even as her lips pressed against his. Leaning in just a little bit closer, she rocked her hips slowly from side to side, stroking him to his full length with only her body.

Breaking the kiss, the man moaned, "Woman, is there no end to the surprises you bring?"

In response, Sala pulled Jakal to follow her. Finding a patch of soft moss, she lowered him onto his back.

Straddling his trunk, bottom toward his face, she wrapped her fingers around the base of his shaft and slid her fist all the way up its length. The foreskin slipped forward, covering the swollen head, and she released her grasp. Cupping her palm, her fingertips fondled the crown of his organ. Her hand then resumed its grip, drawing back down to the root.

Lubricating fluid began to leak from the tiny slit at the tip of his manhood. Lowering her head, Sala tasted him, his essence mild and lightly salty. She dabbed repeatedly at the opening with her tongue, gratified by the way his body continued to release the liquid even as she lapped it up.

Pulling the foreskin back, revealing the shuddering, almost purple head of his member, the woman wrapped her lips around it, wetting the end thoroughly in her heated mouth. She ran her tongue around its circumference, concentrating on the place where his foreskin attached, delighting in her lover's long groan of approval.

As he lay in a daze, the man opened his eyes to the sight of Sala's swollen, glistening sex dripping her female juices onto his chest, her creamy thighs enveloping his upper body. Lifting his head and arms, he gently but insistently pulled her shapely behind toward his hungry mouth.

She cried out as his tongue swept over her folds. The vocalization vibrated on his organ, and Jakal moaned in return, penetrating her with his tongue. The woman unconsciously pushed herself against his face, trying to bring him deeper inside.

Her grasping fist felt his manhood begin to swell, and she looked down to see his sacs tightening and hips lifting in anticipation. She lowered her head and drew him in again, just in time, as he spasmed, spurting his seed into her eager mouth.

After he recovered, Jakal stroked the area around her nerve-filled bundle with the tip of his tongue, slicing along one side and then the other. He moved on to the nub itself, circling the tiny organ as Sala jumped from the intensity of the sensation. She cried out his name, rippling and pulsing against his lips.

Though his own organ was spent, the view of his lover's sodden womanhood beckoned for more of his treatment. While admiring the sight before him, his eyes strayed to the pursed bud of her back entrance, winking and twitching in concert with her sex. Recognizing an opportunity to bring the woman a new form of pleasure, the man was flooded with fresh desire.