The riders carried Soralyn into their camp, a modest little set-up of tents, cooking fires, and horses tied to pegs driven into the earth—obviously not a permanent settlement; these were a people used to traveling. A group of rough-looking men were settled around a fire cooking something in a pot, laughing and talking amongst themselves while another put a skinned and gutted rabbit onto a skewer for roasting.
The smells were tantalizing to Nakato's nose as she watched from a clump of bushes and tall grass, tempting her, and if the circumstances were different and her eyes weren't already on another prize, she may have risked sweeping in there and plucking the rabbit straight from the fire. But she controlled herself and reined in the impulse, licking her lips as she felt herself begin to salivate.
No. No food. Food later. Princess first.
The men tied their horse off and then went around to collect Soralyn off of it, while the injured one loped off to tend his wound. One grabbed Soralyn roughly about the waist and swung her down, then grasped her wrists. "Fetch me a rope! We got a live one, here!" he barked.
And she wasn't the only 'live one' there, Nakato saw. There were others, several other young men and women who looked notably out of place amongst the rugged men, their hands and ankles bound with rope. They were settled off near the fire, as well, where the other men could watch them, huddled together like frightened, dirty cubs.
Nakato sniffed in disdain and began to creep closer, belly low to the ground. Too bad for them she was only interested in the princess. Now to figure out a way to get her back...
Another man came by to hand a length of rope off to the burly man, and he began to tightly bind her hands. "Don't want these too loose, now, do we? Not after that little stunt of yours."
