Chapter 8: Peaches - Swordpulp Studios

Peaches felt lighter than a squirrel racing through the trees. The hot breeze warming her up for her first … you know.

The thunder of darkspawn was like the thunder of success.

Shaking her insides like the day the sproutling of an Oak of Ages was cut down. Her whole body shivered unmoving, yet tighter than any rope haling up another boulder for a catapult.

Now that they were so close, she could even smell, underneath that drunkenly wonderful sweet apple smell, Roo’s pig that wasn’t a pig scent that even orcs joked crudely about, not that Peaches savored anything orc but, maybe, they did have a point, not that she would eat Roo but … that tricross on his chest.

Roo would understand, right?

Why else was he wearing … that? Right?

She curled her toes. She had to.

Seduce and slash.

Or else her home … gulp.

Everyone was counting on her.

Failure, not an option.

 

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