"And that's why they call it doggy style," she joked to herself and then giggled.
Jennaca glanced back and saw that the noises she'd heard must have been the end of their coupling. The man was panting and looking around the tent while he remained patiently behind his mate. The woman picked her head up off the furs and growled appreciatively. Neither one seemed ready to pull apart even though they weren't trying to do anymore.
Jennaca and the man locked gazes. She sucked in a quick breath and was about to look away when he let out a high pitched yipping laugh. The woman turned her head to look at Jennaca and joined him. She even reached back and ran her dark claws through the short fur of her hip and then slapped her hand hard on her rump.
"Oh my," Jennaca whispered.
The man put his hands on his mate's hips and growled as he pulled back and worked himself free. She growled and then whimpered when he slipped out of her furry mound. He stepped out of the tent and rose to his full height. His cock bobbed in front of him and pointed straight at her.
"Saints," Jennaca breathed when she saw the size of the gnoll's manhood. The length rivaled John's but the thickness of his shaft, at least a portion of it, was-- "Oh... oh my. Gnolls have the knot too."
Jennaca jerked her gaze away and turned. Hoping that would be enough. Her cheeks were burning and, for once, she didn't notice the cool gusting evening winds on her tired and bare skin. She risked a glance back and saw that the gnoll had wandered off or returned to the tent. The flap had been closed and she was spared seeing anything else.
Jennaca shivered and realized she was cold. A normal breeze she could shrug off, but now, after a day of fighting and little to nothing to eat she had little strength remaining. The cold had seeped into her and, now that she realized it, she knew she was in danger.
Jennaca slipped her cloak around her and huddled within it, blocking the wind and shivering to try and generate some heat. It wasn't doing much good though. She needed more. She grabbed the hide-- some kind of antelope or deer, given the short hair-- and draped it over her cloak and hovered over her would-be fire pit. She struck her steel to the flint until sparks fizzled and caught in the grass. She blew on them, spreading the flame, and then took strips of her ruined clothes and added them. The fire grew rapidly so she began adding in shavings of wood. The fire eagerly licked at them and began to darken the edges.
The heat warmed her and, for a moment, Jennaca forgot everything but the welcome warmth. Then she realized the flames would not last long. She turned and grabbed the strips of meat she'd cut free and pushed them onto her knife. She held it out over the fire and turned it, trying to let the fire heat the meat as evenly as possible. She fed more shavings and scraps of clothing into it, keeping it burning hot, even though it was small. She ran out of wood all too soon. She still had a tiny pile of scrapped cloth and leather but opted to save it. Another night she might need another fire.
Jennaca tested the meat nearest the tip of her knife. It was hot to the touch, which was a good sign. She plucked it off the knife, her hunger fighting her desire to not burn her fingers. Fortunately, it wasn't quite hot enough. She stuffed it in her mouth and tore off a piece of it. She chewed, tasting the lean meat and feeling an almost savage joy as it squished between her teeth and then slid down her throat. She bit into the next piece and noted it was more tender and a little cooler in the middle. That didn't stop her, but she did have to chew it a few more times before she could swallow it and move on.
She worked her way through both slices of the fox and glanced over at the carcass. She stared at it and then turned and looked away. Her belly was warm from the food and that warmth spread through her slowly. She cuddled up in her cloak and drew her legs in so she was beside the blackened scar on the ground where her meager cook fire had been. She could eat more, but what she had was enough. She even surprised herself with a belch. Her hand flew to her mouth and she looked around.
Nobody looked back. The gnolls were ignoring her. She let loose a tired giggle. Belching was a natural thing, after all. She'd spent so much time around other people-- Jane and his women-- that she'd started to think like a proper member of society again. She grinned. That would have pleased her mother... no, that wasn't true. Her mother wanted her to be happy and she understood the call of the wild better than most. It would have pleased her tutors though. Probably Queen Patrina and her daughters Kenna and Aleena too.
Jennaca wasn't like them though. She was like her mother, but different too. She was... she was wild. There was no taming her. No culture or society would do so and certainly no man. No, she'd met the man she wanted and he claimed her as she was. He loved her as she was, she knew it, even if he would insist he couldn't feel for her that way.
Jennaca smiled. She knew Lord John better than he knew himself. Better than the demon he served, certainly. One day a reckoning would come, John wouldn't be able to serve her anymore, and that would be a very interesting day. Jennaca would be there with him. At his side. Fighting for him.
But that meant she had to get back to him, and to do that, she had to deal with these gnolls. Ideas had come to her during and between fights. Now it was time to put them together into something better. She began by taking her knife and sawing against the rope around her ankle. Escape? Sure, she could run away in the night, but they were fast and she was tired and in no condition for a proper fight. No, she needed the rope for something else. The rope, what she'd salvaged from her clothes before burning them, and probably a bit of her cloak as well.
By the morning, she intended to not only begin winning the pups to her cause, but to show the tribe of gnolls that she was more resourceful and valuable than they realized... or at least more trouble than dealing with her was worth.