The whisper of a lone gust of wind slipped silently and quickly through the rustling leaves. Mira stopped for a second, listening keenly into the darkness of the night. Rain was imminent she knew. She made the disheartening realization that her detour through the forest meant a deluge would prevent her from making it safely home. She drew her cloak about her tighter, her boots gently crushing down the twigs beneath her feet as she mentally berated herself for not bringing along her horse.
That was the kind of renegade Mira had always proven herself to be. Such as wearing trousers rather than skirts... running and scampering through the forest when there was cooking and cleaning to do... and most recently taking up the sword to learn the finer art of fencing. Her mother shook her head in wonder at this daughter, who seemed to have rather been born a son.
Though to look at her, one would never guess she was anything other than a woman. Her ebony hair flowed like silk down her back to her waist and her lovely lavender eyes shone brightly when her full lips curved into a smile. Her waist was small, but her heavy bosom swelled proudly in front of her. The hips were inviting to place strong male hands upon and draw her generous feminine curves into a heated embrace. If they could get close enough to dare... Mira was a woman who allowed no one the pleasure. She was far too proud to be owned by anyone.
The wind was increasing as she darted through the dark forest, and for a moment she could distinctly hear another's footfalls in the leaves and twigs around her. She halted, her hand on her sword.
There was nothing. She peered into the darkness, unable to make anything out of the shadows... and then quickened her steps toward the depths of the thick of the forest. Again, it seemed her steps were mirrored. Again she halted. Again... there was nothing.
The gentle first drops of rain began to splatter against the hood of her cloak, and a very unladylike curse escaped her lips. Bolts of lightning lit through the trees, whose foliage protected her from much of the rain. As she moved along, her eyes were ever searching for a dry place to wait out the storm. At last. Lightening flashed just long enough to show her the shape of a cottage hidden there by the trees. As she drew closer, she detected no movement from the dark windows and got the feeling it was just an abandoned dwelling.
She knocked at the heavy oaken door, but wasn't surprised when no one answered. She pushed it open a bit. One could tell from the infrequent flashes of light that it was empty. She opened the door further and went inside.
Through each room she wandered, discovering bedding in one of the rooms toward the back. Her fortune was good as she realized it had blankets. The coldness and moisture from the rain had chilled her to the bone. With a smile of great satisfaction she slid in between the blankets, not even bothering to remove her cloak. After the trembling subsided, she began to doze.
Murmuring in a dream, she shrugged away the tiny prick of something sharp pressing into her shoulder. It returned quickly, and pressed in harder. Her heavy eyelids fluttered to find a sword pressed on her shoulder, it's silver blade flashing with the lightening. She dared not start. She knew that the person holding this blade could easily impale her.
"Who are you?" the gruff male voice demanded. "What are you doing in my house?"
Before she could answer she felt the blankets be ripped away. She used that moment to scurry away from the blade and off the other side of the bed. She noticed that she was thankfully on the side of the room where the door was... and she bolted quickly through the door and made her way blindly out of the house and out into the raging storm.
Heavy footfalls followed her into the rain only this time her own sword was there to greet him. The cloak shielded her face and frame from this stranger, however his body was clear to see. He stood a bit over 6 feet tall and had long unruly hair that danced around in the breeze like liquid copper. His dark eyes glared at her ominously, while his smirk belied he was strategizing his next move. Taunt muscles moved against the thin fabric of his shirt as his arm raised.
Mira clasped both hands on the sword as she lifted to meet his challenge. When he swung she was ready. The clank of the blades was foreign even to her, but her fear ruled her adrenaline as she combated him quite well for the novice she was. For minutes she held him off... reading his moves through his eyes. When lightning flashed again... and she caught glimpse of the handsome curve of his jaw coming closer to her own, her grip loosened and he easily swung her sword away. She gasped and moved back as he advanced on her with angry victory.
"Now we can see who you are," he muttered, his blade coming up quick through the buttons holding her cloak together. Within a second it was split free and falling from her shoulders... her taunt breasts straining against the paper-thin fabric of her shirt.
