OOC: Edited ^^;
Ok, so her older sister Krasimir was right, chains do chafe your skin. Especially when they are clamped tightly around your delicate little wrists. Its bad enough that your skin sweats and begins to itch underneath that hard metal, but then your whole arm begins to get numb. But that seemed to be the least of their problems…okay maybe it was their problem as they found themselves being led, last in a line of two-hundred slaves, by a large chain that held them connected, linked to one another, captive.
Stumbling every few steps Fatinah could only give her older and much more captivating, taller sister a sheepish smile, as she had been the one who had gotten them into this mess.
“Well, it would have worked, if I hadn’t dropped the pin,� Fatinah whispered biting on her lower lip, spitting out a gnat cutely that somehow had crawled up on her mouth.
The younger more shorter sister looked over to her more fair and ‘womanly’ sister with a grimace, and then looked down at her own meek apparel. Her own much darker red blonde hair was a mess, pulled back into an ugly and tangled bun at the back of her head. Greasy strands ran down her forehead and across two plain golden brown eyes. And freckles...leading down to a somewhat flat chest. Not that she didn't have anything underneath that dusty red vest that she wore, just well...not enough to be noticable.
Even in this heated weather, being chained and pulled along by a huge procession of carts and slaves, her sister Krasimir had remained dignified, walking with such grace, not a hair out of place; even though her hands were bound tightly together in front of her. Only Kras could pull something like that off. Then again…jealous eyes traveled down the length of Krasimir’s slender and graceful figure. Even in these conditions, she could still look like a goddess. With her long waves of strawberry blonde hair flowing down slender shoulders and to her waist, fair skin with but a small blush from her exercise, and eyes the color of hot golden amber, Krasimir was a sight for sore eyes. Which is probably why many of the slaves kept looking back at them...or err correct, her. It was almost like they were looking to Krasimir for saving, pleading whispering coming out at random times when the road got rough. Then again, Krasimir looked the part, so maybe these people were looking to Kras to save them all.
They sure stuck out from all the other peasant-looking people. Well, Fatinah was soon becoming more like them, her hair a tangled mess, clothes ripped, and face smudged with dirt. Her feet…god what a nightmare! They were covered with dust and already blistered from having to walk uphill for at least half of the morning! Damn her for wearing skimpy sandals! Now the sun was soon to be gone and evening was upon them.
This...wasn't good, not at all. And they were not likely to be found having been taken off a secret path through the woods.
“But aye,� Kras said after a quiet moment, pulling her white and sun-embroidered golden veil to cover her face as a guard passed them by, the sound of her chains fading out in the loud wave of the others as the enslaved before them continued down the hill. The sun at that moment chose to shine on her face, lighting up her eyes. “It is a good plan, sister,� she whispered, sending those intense gold eyes Fatinah’s way.
There was that look again. It made Fatinah’s chest swell to see her older sister look at her that way. It was hope, and pride; a mixture of both together that Krasimir was so used to giving when there was possibility for things to turn around for them. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe they weren’t going to end up at the Moon Temple of Kaskuh and be given to him as a living sacrifice. Just maybe…
Yes, the plan had been perfect until they failed. It was all her fault, and she felt the guilt of trapping her older sister alongside with her like this. Yet, her sister Kras hadn’t left her side and faithfully followed Fatinah into the fire. Now…who knows now what would happen. Krasimir probably would be made a concubine to the god himself, if not slain. She was beautiful enough to be so, and dressed so finely so, in a long sheer white dress that draped along her luxurious body, golden thin ropes holding the fabric in place at her waist. Her arms were bare, with bit a little of that expensive fabric clasped with golden suns at her shoulders. A choker with sun symbols along her slender neck. Okay, so maybe they overdid it with the sun-like clothing and jewelry, but hey it was fooling the masses, because the closer they got to wherever it was they were going to die, the more these people looked and pleaded with their voices to Krasimir to do something.
Oh boy...if they only knew...and now they were permanently trapped as slaves to the Kaskaiden people, followers of the God Kaskuh, enemy of the Solisi...
