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This is a part of a longer story. As such, things have gone on before this point just as they will after it and these are not the central characters in it anyway.
So I ought to set out what's going on in a general sense.
This is a planet far from earth in the present time. It's dying slowly as its mineral wealth is being vacuumed out of it. This happens in or near what is known now as Beach Colony, the remnants of a large coastal seaport.
Out of the life forms which are left here, the main sentient ones are split into two groups which are really two variants of the same creature, though they look different to each other.
Sangans are pretty much the same as humans here on Earth. Almost exactly and any differences aren't worth talking about.
Bishrans are the same as Sangans but for a few external features.
They're usually, though not always covered in short fur. Their heads don't look much like Sangans, though the bone structure is the same only a little elongated. Their faces and heads look more like what you'd see on a fox and even then, they're more angular.
The main physiological difference is that they're built like centaurs with arms and hands and four legs.
The two races get along fine and since the world here is pretty screwed over with war and wastelands, more refugees are streaming in every day to the dwindling number of functional colonies left. The bands of refugees are about an equal mix of Sangan and Bishran.
Though they look quite different to each other, they can interbreed with no fuss. It's just that they don't do that very often.
Marishe is one of the town guard. She's long past bored with it. She's a Sangan woman who is a little different in that she's got a thing for Bishrans of either gender.
Miyarra-Louhk is a sorceress and seer who has reluctantly taken and held the job of pretty much the queen of the city. She'd like to be doing something else too. She's a Sangan with similar tastes to Marishe.
Rhuna is a Bishran from a type who are something like gypsies. They have a homeland but they're usually out somewhere else in the world.
Cynn - or more correctly, Prince Cynn (chuckle) is a Bishran with a sad tale.
Hope you enjoy this.
0_o
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She sat up in the tall grass, looking around for a long moment, just casting her eyes here and there along the landscape and out as far as the horizon.
No one.
Getting to her feet, she bent her head forward and shook her head a few times in case there were any bits of grass in her hair that needed dislodging.
Finding none, she ran her long fingers through it several times, hoping a little that she might get it not to look so windblown and messy - for once.
She knew it wouldn't work. She needed to wash it and start over.
She shrugged as she picked up her weapons, her bow and her blades, moving them to grip them all in one hand by themselves or in the case of her blades, by the straps of their scabbards. She picked up her pack by the straps with her other hand.
A gust of wind blew her long dark red hair past her face and over her eyes. She turned in response so that the same wind could get it out of her face again and she shook her head once more.
It couldn't be helped.
With a sigh, she walked down to the shore and after a long look up and down the beach; she set everything down above the reach of the wavelets rolling up the sand.
She looked around again, up the length of the shore on the left side and down the length of the same shore on the right. She looked back along the ridgeline behind and above her. She saw no one.
Moving a little quickly, she pulled off her long boots and stepped in a little, pulling the lower part of her open leather jerkin up to tie it there for the moment before she squatted down to wash a little.
She looked down at her open shirt, a simply-made garment of light muslin and her eyes caught sight of the sticky skin of her breasts. The shirt was pulled open wide, though her leather jacket was still tied together under her tits. She shook her head.
What a mess she was.
Deciding that it was what it was, she filled her hands with water and washed her breasts with the cold water as best she could a little quickly.
Her hand reached down and she frowned a little for a moment before she began to wash away the semen which was leaking out of both places, timing her scooping of the water to those moments when the surf wasn't filled with sand particles. As usual, it was a little surprising just how far that stuff could run down her legs, but at least none of it had run into the tops of her boots before she'd gotten here to pull them off in time.
She ran her fingertips around her mouth and scooped more water to wash her face too.
She looked around again just in case and then she stood up to rearrange her clothing before bending a little to pick up her boots and pull them on again. She let out a slightly frustrated sigh as she remembered and reached into the opening of one of her sleeves to pull out the leather shorts from where she'd stuffed them and she pulled them on.
"Not good, Marishe," she whispered to herself as she buttoned them together, "That might have felt good to walk the rest of the way like that, but it would have been noticed - and you'd have embarrassed yourself.
Again."
She allowed herself the small grin that she felt coming .They knew her there. They knew her well.
She picked up one of her boots. The leather was warm and supple and it wasn't much trouble even though her long legs were wet with the water which ran down them now. The other one went back on even more easily and she was ready to go.
She found a small smile in it somewhere. She was a mess, but she was a happy one, all the same.
She thought back to when she'd met Cynn and Chira. Whenever she did that, she had to think back just a little farther to the day that she'd met Rhuna and Yergei.
One of her duties at the colony was with the guard. She's never been thrilled with it, but she considered it to be important enough so that somebody had to do it and a part of that duty was to stand watch at the colony gates - the main ones.
With all the war and the resultant turmoil from it, there always seemed to be refugees showing up these days. And they usually didn't just show up, smile pleasantly and say hello and ease into their new lives here, either. They almost always needed to see somebody or go someplace or they had issues. Depending in the illness - if they were sick, they might be turned away, though that didn't happen often.
But there was almost always something, so they'd speak to a guard to find out where they had to go or whatever.
Marishe had a heart, the same as the next person and she tried to help where she could. But after a while, you ... you didn't grow cold-hearted or anything like that, but ... well you might form a slightly thicker skin without even knowing it.
On that particular day, it was getting toward evening, the time when the gates would be closed for the night. The guardsmen posted wouldn't allow anyone in until morning and then of course, the whole show would begin again.
Marishe had been at the gates all day from just after sun up, excepting for a couple of short breaks and her lunch.
As she'd stepped away to go for her first break, she noticed a Bishran female standing off a little to the side of the entrance passage, so as not to hold anyone up.
She was there when Marishe returned, and she was there when she left to go for her lunch. It went like that all day.
The woman mostly stood still in the same place for hours, though she did move now and then. She had a small child and she tended to him and gave him something to eat a few times. As well, she'd put her large bundle down in such a way that she could look away for a moment at a time without fear that someone would run off with it.
The thought caused Marishe to smile. That bundle looked to be pretty damned formidable and she wondered what was in it, belongings, she assumed.
At those times, the female would open her muslin shirt and nurse the child, so from that, Marishe guessed that she was on the way to weaning him off the breast.
But she never went anywhere and now it was getting near the time when the gates would be closed for the night. Since the female hadn't come in to be cleared, she was in a little danger of being forced out for the night.
Marishe wouldn't let that happen easily, not without knowing why she hadn't just come in to be processed. She spoke to the other guards on duty with her and told them to call it a day, that she'd get through the last half-dozen or so if they could do her a favor and lock the gates.
While she was wondering about the woman, she had to deal with the other stragglers and once she'd determined a few things, she pointed out where they needed to go and they left.
Then she noticed another person in front of her just as she'd been about to look at the woman again and maybe go over to ask her what the trouble was.
But when she looked up, she saw that it was the female from the entranceway. Marishe looked around. There wasn't anybody else to be processed. This woman had waited all day.
"Please to excuse me," she began hesitantly in the speech used by most of the people in the colony, though there was a thick accent there which Marishe needed to hear more of to even be able to guess, "I can come inside?"
Marishe didn't get this at all. Had she been that shy or what?
She looked the person over quickly. Female. Bishran. With small child and belongings. Not tall for a Bishran. Not stick-thin, but could use a few meals. Slightly darker fur than she'd expected and she'd noticed this earlier.
That was it. Marishe had run out of road - since this person stood looking down.
"I'm afraid that I can't help you unless you look at me, please," Marishe said.
"I am sorry to trouble you," the woman said and she began to turn away.
Marishe reached out, "Hey, I didn't mean that you had to go. I just need you to look up at me, that's all."
The head nodded and then the face came into view.
Marishe felt her heart almost slam to a halt. The woman was lovely though she looked very uncertain. Very few of the ones who came to the gate had much of anything to their names and this one looked to be a little poorer than most. And she was alone. There was no male there with her. Just her and her small child. She found herself wanting to help - even more than she normally did.
The woman was still looking down a bit, however, and Marishe noticed that she was trembling.
"What's wrong?" she asked, "I'd like very much to help you, but you look like you're in some difficulty. How can I help?"
