But was it edible? There was no way to know for sure, but from the animal prints all around and the way the berries closest to the ground had been eaten away, she reasoned that this was probably her best shot at verifying the plant wasn’t poisonous.
“That, or they have an immunity,” she murmured to herself. “Well, only one way to know for sure.”
She tentatively popped the berry into her mouth, intending to let it sit for a moment so she could gauge how her tongue reacted to it. But the flavor was so intense and sweet that her mouth moved on instinct, chewing it and swallowing in a flash, hungry for more. Starving as she was, Margot quickly obliged, stuffing her face with berry after berry, but stopping herself before she made herself sick. That lesson had already been learned, and she didnotwant a repeat.
Finally, her belly’s rumbling sated, she moved around the bushes to the water’s edge, crouching down and washing her hands and face. Her heart lurched in her chest as movement to her right, just in her peripheral vision, caught her attention.
She was not alone.
Margot froze, slowly turning, out in the open on the shoreline, exposed with nowhere to hide. Her eyes focused on the threat, growing wide as she realized what she was looking at.
It was a man, that she could very clearly see judging by the impressive length hanging between his legs, easily visible even with his back to her as he bent forward in the knee-deep water washing his face and neck.
He had long, scraggly dark hair hanging to his shoulders, his body a light tan color with a hint of red, almost like you’d find with some native tribes of the United States. He was tall, clearly over six feet, and broad of shoulder with a lean waistand powerful buttocks and thighs. His overall build was rather human, though with decidedly alien attributes, including what looked almost like another two sets of abs on either side of his back, likely allowing him to bend backward as well as forward, though she couldn’t tell how far.
The man flopped back into the water, reveling in the flow, then stood up fully, water dripping off him, running down his manhood in a stream that Margot, despite the situation, couldn’t help but stare at. He was gorgeous. Built like an Olympian swimmer, but more. An alien Tarzan out in this wilderness.
The rocks at her feet shifted, one clattering into the water. The man’s head cocked for an instant, then he bolted into the trees, moving even more fluidly than she’d have expected of one with his considerable physique. He looked almost like some kind of crazy, cat-like parkour runner, the way he effortlessly vaulted rocks and logs. And with his ridiculous muscles, he propelled his body up and out of sight in a flash.
“What the hell?” she marveled, shocked by his unexpected speed and grace.
Margot rose and looked around, her ears straining. The animals and insects seemed to have been untroubled by the man’s abrupt movement, their steady hum unchanged. She turned, eyes scanning for a man-shaped outline anywhere in her line of sight.
She nearly fell over in shock when he abruptly dropped from above, landing mere feet from her, still quite wet from his bath, and very naked.
Margot swallowed hard, her eyes unable to avoid glancing at the impressive unit hanging between his legs. Thick, powerful legs, she noted. She quickly shifted her gaze to his face, locking her eyes on his. His features were very human, but more angular, with cheekbones you’d kill for and arching eyebrowsthat seemed always amused at some secret joke only he could hear.
His hair was dark and thick, brushed away from his face for the moment, revealing bright copper-colored eyes with a deep silver-gray ring around the outer edge of his iris, making them appear even brighter and more piercing than she’d have thought possible.
He sized her up, calm, confident, not concerned one bit by the intruder to his forest realm or his own nudity. She marveled at the swirling designs marking his entire body. Detailed patterns tattooed over each major muscle group, connected by swooping lines that followed his musculature in a beautiful way. In the middle of his chest was the most ornate of all the designs, a remarkable pattern of a complexity the likes of which she’d never seen before.
The man’s ink, she noted, was ever so slightly luminous, and it appeared to be mostly silver and gold, with bits of black for detail work. But all of the colors had a strangeness to them, every last bit blended with a disturbingly dark green hue, almost as if he had moss growing under his skin, but only where the ink had been placed.
He spoke, his voice gentle and clear, though she couldn’t understand a word he was saying. His eyes, however, were kind. Warm and non-threatening. For whatever reason, instinct kicked in like she didn’t usually feel, and she was certain she could trust this man. It didn’t happen often, but when it spoke to her like this, her gut was almost never wrong.
“I can’t understand you,” she said.
He looked at her with surprise, his head cocked slightly. He spoke again.
“Nope. Still don’t know what you’re saying.”
He gently reached out and turned her head, his fingers warm where they softly grasped her cheek. One long finger softlytouched the skin behind her ear, a curious look on his face. He turned her head the other way examining the other side the same way before letting go, never once giving off the slightest hint of ill-intentions.
He spoke again, but this time pantomiming as well, his fingers grasping his thumb and moving to his full lips, his jaw then moving as if chewing.
“Food? Do I want food?”
He nodded.
“Yes! Yes, please! I’ve only found berries out here and when the Raxxians had me I didn’t eat at all!”
A flash of something hard blazed in his eyes at that word. That name. Raxxians. Clearly, he had beef with them, as did pretty much everyone, from what Alida had said. She supposed that their habit of eating people was probably a pretty good reason why.
The man turned and gestured for her to follow, then walked ahead, moving slowly so she could keep up. Margot was appreciative of the courtesy almost as much as she was of the view. His ass was magnificent. Roman sculptors couldn’t have done a better job if they tried. He stopped and picked up some wet and ratty clothing he’d apparently washed before bathing, then continued on his path, leading her through the trees, his presence alone making her feel worlds safer than she would have thought possible.
They trekked for at least a mile, arriving at a thick-trunked tree with a dense canopy of branches above. He grabbed one of the vines winding around it, one that looked just like all the rest, and tugged. A woven ladder dropped down, unfurling right in front of them.
“You have a secret treehouse?” she asked, almost amused at the idea of this very grown man having a secret hideout like some teenage boy.
