Lifting the stake over her mouth again, the Traveler throws her head back. Once consumed, the woman knows, wild sap unleashes an almost uncontrollable thirst. The Traveler continues to gulp until she has to gasp for breath. After she pulls the stake away from her face, she looks down at the ground.
As the wild sap pulses through the Traveler’s limbs, tightening muscles contour her bare arms and stretch the fabric of her black pants. Raising her empty hand in front of her face, the Traveler clenches it into a fist. She takes several deep breaths, spreads her fingers apart, and presses her palm to her chest.
The Traveler slides her hand over the roundness of her breasts. She continues to move her hand down her torso and then outward around the curve of her hip. Her fingertips graze over the front of one leg before coming to a rest on the inside of her thigh.
She’s aware of carnal sensations, probably for the first time, the woman surmises. Physical desires have been awakened, replacing the spiritual that those of the Delta adhere to.
The woman’s flesh crawls when she spots a pale, brutish creature creep around a mound of rocks. From behind the Traveler, the Murkovin silently skulks towards the tree. The beast must have been in hiding when the Traveler arrived, the woman concludes, waiting to steal the sap-filled stake that belongs to her. He’ll now crave the sap inside the Traveler’s veins. He’s taller than both the Traveler and the woman, much more muscular, but the woman fears no creature of the Barrens. Time has taught her the harsh lessons of survival in the wasteland.
The woman starts to spring over the ridge but freezes before her feet leave the ground. Still peeking over the rocks, she notices the stake slip through the Traveler’s hand. Before it falls to the dirt, the Traveler stops it by tightening her fingertips on the shaft. Almost unnoticeably, she presses her palm to the butt of the stake.
She knows the creature is behind her. Will she have the strength, quickness, and cunning to kill the brute? But a more important question enters the woman’s mind. Why did I feel the need to rush to the Traveler’s aid?
When he’s less than ten feet from the Traveler, the Murkovin rears back his spear. As he lunges forward, the tip pierces the air behind the Traveler’s head. The woman anticipates the perfect moment for the Traveler to react, the exact point of the creature’s assault when he’s off-balance, his weight falling forward, and most vulnerable to a counter-attack.
The point of the spear is within a few inches of the Traveler’s skull when she jerks her head down and wrenches her hips to the side. Ducking under the steel, she furiously spins. With a powerful upward thrust, she shoves the stake into the Murkovin’s larynx. She rams it through his head until the sharp point shatters the back of his skull. Black blood mixed with gray light spews from the beast’s head.
The Traveler’s palm smashes against the underside of the creature’s jaw. With a savage grunt, she lifts the Murkovin’s feet off the ground. The brute writhes in agony until the final breath of life gurgles from his lungs. Heaving his body away from her, the Traveler sends the limp corpse sprawling to the ground.
The Traveler raises her hand in front of her eyes. Her body shakes as she stares at the Murkovin’s blood dripping from her palm. With a sudden urge to query the Traveler, the woman leaps over the ridge and lands on the crest of the hill.
“You like the power you feel, don’t you?” the woman calls out.
The Traveler snaps her head to the voice. In an instant, she jumps to where her spear lies on the ground, snatches it from the dirt, and whirls towards the woman.
“I’ll kill you if I have to!” the Traveler shouts.
Maintaining her grip on the spear in one of her hands, the woman holds her arms out to her sides. “I have no quarrel with you. I’m with child and have all the sap I want.” She tips her head towards the dead body by the Traveler’s feet. “But that stake belongs to me.”
“I have no use for it!”
“You drank the wild sap from it,” the woman accuses. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“What I do is none of your concern!” the Traveler retorts.
She’s having difficulty controlling her temper. She’s not used to the effects of wild sap. She’s dangerous while it’s in control of her mind.
“Why are you here?” the woman asks.
The Traveler crouches and points her weapon at the woman. “I don’t have to answer to you.”
“This is my territory,” the woman calmly replies. “It’s a simple question to put my mind at ease. Are you hunting Murkovin? Are others nearby?”
“Of course not!” the Traveler barks. “We don’t hunt your kind in the Barrens for no reason.”
“Then explain why you’re here.”
Narrowing her eyes with distrust, the Traveler hesitates. “I have no duties this morrow,” she eventually says. “I wanted to feel open space.”
Still holding her arms out to her sides, the woman takes a few steps down the hill. She stops when the Traveler coils.
“And to satisfy your curiosity?” the woman asks.
The Traveler grimaces at her words. “If you come any closer, I’ll kill you.”
“As I said,” the woman replies, lowering her arms to her sides, “I have no reason to fight you. Go on your way. You didn’t drink much. If you take an indirect route back to the Delta, the wild sap will be purged from your veins before you return.”
The Traveler takes two steps backwards. Without saying another word, she turns away, bursts into a sprint, and explodes into rays of light. After the beams of her body disappear in the wasteland, the woman walks down the hill to reclaim her stake.
Why did I feel the need to
