Fangs on the Plains

He let out something of a frustrated sigh, followed by a chuckle. "I just realized..." He kissed her pulse point softly once more, rolling his shoulders some. "Now that she's here, we have to be more discreet with our..." He trailed off, only to bite her pulse point roughly before pulling back. "Indiscretions."

A gasp followed and her hands flew to her mouth to keep her from crying out. She met his eyes with an even gaze, but her legs wobbled --- dear god, was she ovulating or had he turned her into some sort of sex fiend? Pushing the thoughts aside, she merely nodded, eyes darting back to the single cracked door on their floor.

Malcolm patted her back and pulled away, hopping up on the counter and offering her a cocky smile, the gist of was almost a challenge. Come and get me or enjoy the tension. His legs kicked just a bit, hands resting almost suggestively over his pelvis.

Freya closed and then opened and then closed the door, then took to exploring the bathroom. After a moment she figured out how to turn the shower on, then stripped out of the clothes she was offered and slid into the bath.

Her eyes narrowed back at him, but she pursued him nonetheless, giving into the throws of passion that had so often come to consume them. She was quieter this time, a feat that was more than a little difficult with his general tormenting nature, but they nonetheless managed to pull from each other what they wanted before young Freya ever left the bath. Panting and unsteady, Lia made her way to her own bathroom, cleaning herself up and popping yet another pill before switching into more casual clothes, tying the strings of the pants into an intricate knot that she was sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he could not undo before she made her way back into the commons and plopped gracelessly onto the couch.

Malcolm rested in his own pajamas on another of the coaches, listening to the rhythmic pounding of water coming from Freya's bathroom. How long had she been in there? They had taken at least an hour for themselves, so perhaps an hour and 10 or so minutes?

Some minutes later the water stopped, but Freya's voice called from her room. 'Miss Lia? I'm sorry to ask, but I need some help..." She sounded immensely embarrassed, and more than a little worried.

Lia looked up slowly, her mind having drifted and taken to repeating, and skipping like a broken record, old songs in her head. She slid from the couch, landing her bare feet on the floor silently and making her way to Freya's room and subsequent bathroom. "Freya...?"

Freya was looking around the bathroom, still naked and dripping wet. Her clothes had already been the victims of many repeated steps by her sodden feet, and were even wetter due to the fact that she was dripping water everywhere. She looked up at Lia, cupping her hands over her nethers but leaving her breasts uncovered, head tilted downwards. "I'm sorry Miss Lia, but I don't know how I'm supposed to dry myself... Back in the quarries, we simply put our clothes back on, not worrying about drying off... I assume it's different here? Or should I put my clothes back on?"

Lia looked like she was about to burst into laughter, her amused smirk quickly defaulting to a giggle-suppressing grin. Shaking her head, she made her way to the linen closet, tossing her a towel and pulling both a hair towel and a robe out for afterwards. "Rub or pat yourself dry with that," the elder women scooped up her clothes as she spoke, still silently laughing. "I'll come back in a bit to show you the rest."

Freya nodded, taking the towel and patting herself dry, finding out quickly that her hair would take more than a few pats to dry. She wrapped the towel around herself much like she had worn her tunic.

Malcolm raised a brow when he saw Lia and the bundle of wet clothes. "Would you mind explaining this, Lia?" His lips pulled up in just the hint of a smirk.

"She's never used a towel," She said simply, matching his expression near-perfectly as she dumped the clothes into the dryer and sent it spinning. "I'm not sure, but I think we're baby-training a teenager." Her eyes flitted about the room for a moment before she sauntered over, slowly moving to straddle his lap before kissing him hard. The embrace lasted but a moment before she dashed away, quickly showing Freya how to wrap herself up in the two garments she'd set aside.

Freya felt up the fluffy robe and towel, smiling warmly up at Lia and giving a small bow. "Thank you, Miss Lia. These are very warm. Are these going to be my new clothes?" She asked innocently, clearly not understanding the purpose of either garment and just assuming they were meant to replace the clothes she'd gotten wet.

Malcolm, in the meanwhile, crossed his legs and closed his eyes, trying to get the thoughts of what Lia had done out of his mind.

She shook her head, giggling at the girl. "You wear those while your body dries off. It's meant to keep you warm and soak up any extra moisture." Smiling still, she gestured for Freya to follow while she lead her back to the room. Turning the bed down slowly, she patted the surface of the fitted sheet and smiled. "Put on some underpants and the fluffy clothes --- you'll be able to tell. Those are pajamas." A laugh followed, "It's early, but they're comfortable." Lia made a wide gesture to her own clothes, "If you want to sleep then you can, or if you want to explore, that's fine, too. Just stay in the robe and hair towel until you're dressed, okay?"

Freya nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed and giving Lia a big smile. "Thank you Miss Lia." She said happily, bouncing up and down some. A thought would cross Lia's mind at that moment, a memory of only a few minutes ago when she had seen Freya in the bathroom. Some ugly burned skin, the evidence of a branding on her arm spelling out the numbers 2147.

She bit her lip in response to the memory, not wishing to dwell on it now and instead letting the girl live in her happy little world, however temporary it may be. She stepped closer to her, gently placing a kiss on her cheek before nodding her head and leaving the room in silence.

Freya kicked her legs, hands resting on her lap while she waited for herself to dry. Malcolm looked over at Lia, noticing her troubled look and immediately standing, walking to her side. "What is it, Lia?"

"Two-one-four-seven," she said, immediately after being no longer within hearing range of the girl. "I imagine it's an identification number." Her eyes were haunted as she looked up at him --- she was treated like cattle?! "It's branded on." She said, and despite the tight resolve balling her fists, she looked about to shatter.

Malcolm wrapped his arms tight around her, patting her back and sighing in concession. "It's not the first time I've heard of it... They treat the slaves horribly, Lia..." He rubbed her back and kissed her cheek, letting out a sad sigh afterwards.

Whether she was about to cry or punch a wall was impossible to tell as she stood there, internally numb and yet ready to scream at the top of her lungs. She let him hold her, however, let him be there and offer her the comfort that she could while she worked to sort the chaos in her brain.

Malcolm suddenly lifted her up, carrying her over to the couches and laying back on one of them, holding her against him as he did so. He ran a hand through her hair, nuzzling the back of her neck with a sad smile. "Hey, it's gonna be alright..."

Freya, finally figuring herself to be dry enough, stripped out of the robe and the hair towel, replacing them with a pair of drawstring flannel pants and a soft purple shirt. She found a pair of slipper, trying them on and then opening the door. She snuck up to the commons, seeing them on the couch and tilting her head. "Are you two married?" She asked innocently.

Lia lifted her head, looking over at her with a hollow haze about her eyes, as though she'd been crying despite the fact that she hadn't done so at all. "Why do you ask?" She readjusted herself, laying on her side on top of him, but her expression was purely innocent.

Malcolm pursed his lips at the question, laying flatter against the couch but still keeping his arms around Lia's waist. He kept silent, sure he would manage to muck it up if he spoke. Freya took a few steps closer, sitting on another of the couches. A piece of cloth was wrapped around where the brand was on her arm, though she obviously didn't notice it. "You just seem so affectionate with one another. The only people I saw like that were the slaves who were married." She said quietly.

Her face burned and she looked down, unsure of quite how to explain. "Freya, do you know what marriage really is?" She shifted just slightly, eyes on her but face hidden as her fingers circled idly against his chest.

Freya held up her left ring finger, and nodded a few times. "One of the boys explained it to me. He said that when two people love each other very much, the man buys the woman a ring, and they go to a church and a priest binds them together for their entire lives..." She trailed off, suddenly looking somber. "Of course, we didn't get to have jewelry, so marriages in the quarries were just the last part. It was one of the few times everyone was really happy..."

Her lips pursed, and she raised nodded to the area around them. "Does it look like we could afford jewelry, Freya?"

"So..." She began, taking a moment to crane her neck and look at their hands. "So I guess you're not married then? Just... Good friends?" Her head tilted to the side, her expression innocent.

Malcolm let out a chuckle and nodded, looking over towards young Freya. "That's correct. Just... good friends."