The Wilderness
New items in hand I beat a path north for a long time. Barre and Kotta had filled my bag with simple trail food and a small utility knife. I was a fair hand with a knife; it would be fairly impractical as a combat weapon. I had taken to carving some simple designs into my walking stick. It was as tall as I was, so I could probably use it to better effect if I had to defend myself. The trees were greenish, but not vibrant. The road was wide and well kept. It was remarkably marked and even. I had been reassured that if I stuck to the roads I wouldn't be lost.
I was alone for a couple of days. My food was in some peril of not surviving my metabolism. Despite being winter the nights weren't frigid. They were chilly, but there was always some small wooden structure placed at regular intervals. They could hold two people at best and had a small stone fireplace and circular chimney let the smoke out. So, I was never left to the elements. On the third day when loneliness really set in, it wasn't crippling or anything, but my first few days had been in the warmth of very agreeable company. Also, Amazonia was big place. That's what I mean when I say lonely. Even the tamed part I enjoyed walking was still natural and austere. It reminded me of the woods in the country, but on a much larger scale.
I set out on the morning of the third day whistling a jazz song. I thought about stopping for a big breakfast, but I decided on something lighter. I walked for a few hours when I began smelling smoke. I looked into the sky and saw a few wispy curls of smoke off the road to my east near the still-pinkish sunrise. Deciding to risk what lay off the beaten path I turned and began picking my way through the underbrush. There were several small game trails. I'm not exactly an urbanite, and I picked up a few tricks from the other pilots I used to hang around with.
I found the fire about half a mile into the woods. The wind must have been with me, I hadn't thought it would have been closer. I worried about not being able to find the road again, if I had to. I sat down by the fire and stirred it with a stick. There wasn't a whole lot there, just a bed roll and a large piece of oilcloth set up as a cover against the rain. There was also a messenger bag that was slightly bigger than mine. I thought about sliding off my boots and lying down for a quick rest. Before I could, though, I heard the slightest of rustles from my left. Looking I saw the blondest woman I'd ever seen.
She was almost eight feet tall. Wide hips like Kotta's but the narrowest waste I'd seen yet. She was long in the legs , too. She was wearing brown and white. She had high brown boots, a form-hugging brown skirt and a tight fitting shirt in white. The first few buttons were undone revealing a mile of delicious pale cleavage. She had stormy-blue eyes and youthful features. Her blonde hair was intricately braided into nine different braids that converged into a single long braid that swung down to her rump, by my guess. Her full, pouty lips parted into a small smile. She was carrying a large rifle over her shoulder, it was a flintlock of all things. There was a pistol tucked into her leather belt and sashes. She was using a large, broad-tipped spear as a walking stick. I assumed it was the traditional hunting weapon of the amazons.
"Hello..." She said sultrily. Sashaying over to her bag she stowed her gear. I got a glorious view of her nice broad backside.
"Hello." I said less sexily than I had hoped.
"Don't be nervous, capital boy." She said, "We wild amazons don't eat you." I couldn't help but notice her cool manner.
"Uh... I'm new actually. I came from the southern ocean." I said.
She turned looking genuinely shocked, "Oh... I'm sorry... that explains why you're so far away from the capital." She looked genuinely embarrassed shuffling bashfully. Her pale skin was turning fiery red.
I walked over to her and held out my hand, "My name is Terry Grant." She seemed incredibly shy considering the average demeanor of her kin.
She looked at me shuffling her feet around. "Chira... sorry... it's just..." She looked away again. I put my hand down, Chira didn't seem to want to shake it... or she didn't know the custom.
"It's just what?" I said sitting down and patting the ground next to me. Rather primly for a hunter she smoothed her skirts and sat down.
"Do you know how many men are on the island?" She asked. I nodded that I did.
"You know they all live in the capital now, right?" Again I said I did.
"Most don't like to admit it, but it makes us feel neglected. They and you are supposed to be slaves to everyone, and yet they stay in the capital living the lazy life."
"But they're not doing anything they can't do."
She sighed, frustrated, "That's what makes it so... irritating. There are hundreds of thousands of women, and only ten—eleven—men. So... so there are many women who go years without knowing the touch of a man. It's something that we're supposed to accept, but it's—"
"Not fair?" I suggested.
She nodded the blush leaving her face. She turned to me, "But... you're new, right?" I nodded, a little more hesitantly. I had heard that tone before. She turned on me, a hungry look in her eye. I was hungry for it, too, but mine was tempered by her enthusiasm.
She was pushing me onto my back. I winced and mumbled something about a rock in my back. She blushed again and got off of me. She began playing with her gorgeous braid and blushed again. "I stink at this..." She sighed.
I sat up, "It's my personal opinion that no one is good at it, Chira... as long as you're enjoying it that's what matters."
She huffed over to her bedroll and looked ashamed, nonetheless. It looked like she was packing up her camp. I crawled after her and grabbed her hand. She snatched it away and held her knees to her chest.
"How old are you?" I asked gently.
"Twenty, I just came home after academy."
