The sun slowly crept down under the horizon; it’s glow filling the sky with a waterfall-like effect of colors. Purple, blue, red, and bright orange was some of what Turlen saw from the entrance to his smokeshack. Turlen sat on the ground with his back propped against the thatched wall of brick and dried mud. His mouth made a small O as he exhaled a series of smoke rings. The aroma of maple wood filled his nostrils with the exhalation. A smile filled his face as he continued watching the sunrise.
When the sun had set behind the Mountains of Shadow and the blanket of night covered the landscape, Turlen returned to the warmth and comfort of his shack. Standing a full six and a half feet tall, Turlen was considered to be the most eligible man in the tribe. His arms and chest bore the scars of countless adventures in the woods and the wars with the other tribes in the surrounding domains. The leather flap fell down over the opening he’d entered and very quickly he fastened it with hemp cords made earlier in the day. He noticed that the muscles in his arms had begun to contract with soreness from his long day of work. Turning about he gazed once more at his surroundings.
The shack was simply made with a bed of buffalo hides in the left corner with a smooth leather pillow filled with duck feathers at the head of the bedspread. The fire in the center of the room was just beginning to build in intensity. A large stack of fresh springgreen wood sat near the fire ready to be used. Off in the far right corner a deer carcass hung, the meat having been cleaned from the bone before the setting of the sun.
Soon, Turlen thought, soon I will be ready for the task at hand.
After consuming much of the deer meat and tenderizing the rest with salt for preservation, Turlen sat facing the fire. He began to slowly place log after log of the springgreen wood onto the fire. Thick smoke rose from the roaring fire. The added fuel increased the intensity of the flame tenfold. Turlen sat still and simply breathed in deep the musky fumes he had made.
As he began to drift into the dreamstate, his mind filled with visions of his home. His mother fixing the evening meal, his father coming in from a fresh day of farming or speaking with the village elder. His younger brother and sister were busy playing with the other children, chasing each other all over the place. The young maidens who sought Turlen’s attention so much faced him now. He was startled for a moment to see them all nude, with their arms outstretched; offering themselves to him. His mind swam as the vision began to take full form.
He sat in his family’s hut with the young woman he had taken an interest in. Her name was Sentifaren, or Child of the Sun. She had an angular face with long, raven black hair. Her eyes were a deep shade of hazel green, which brought more attention to her face than normal. Her breasts were fairly large, the size of massive grapefruit melons. There was little sag, if any, from his vantage. Her stomach was flat but not overly defined and they flared downward into a sensuous pair of hips. A small tuft of hair could be seen leading up from the top of her clitoral hood. She smiled at him and rose, moving to his side of the fire.
