The girl crawled out from the wreckage of the wagon, shivering. One of her brother's checkered shirts was over her own white one, which had somehow come out of the whole ordeal with only a few stains, a pair of pants tucked into boots that were a little large on her feet. She looked around and only saw the swaying grasses of the area around where the remains of the wagon train lay. Shuddering, her eyes fixed on the shadowy figure in the distance that was drawing nearer to her. Finally, the figure was close enough to make out features--dark skin, dark clothes, feathers, some parts that looked either fur or hair or some combination of the two, the horse between the rider's legs a brown and white paint. Her trembling increased, the urge to run more compelling than anything else, but her body remained frozen in place, eyes locked on the rider coming ever closer.
The female made her small horse stop shortly before reaching the strange wreck. Her brow furrowed. No danger to be be seen, but better to be wary. Little noises reached her ear and slowly she turned to place where the girl sat crouched between the remnants of the wagon. Lifting her hands showing that she didn't carry a weapon she came nearer.
The girl stared at the approaching stranger, wound tight as a spring, ready to bolt and run but never finding enough strength to rise and do so, her limbs quaking with each step the other took. A gasp left her as the uplifted hands reached down and took her by the arms, lifting her to her feet. She could tell vaguely that she was being lifted, set onto the horse's back. The other, a woman, she realized as a relatively soft chest pressed to her back, put an arm around her waist as she took up the mount's reins, putting her heels to its sides.
The ride was a hazy dream barely remembered; she must have fallen asleep at some point between setting out from the wagons and opening her eyes, for she could just make out the specks of a town appearing on the horizon when next she lifted her head. Turning her head, the girl saw then that she was seated on the ground, her back to a tree, head resting on the other woman's chest. The Indian woman was dressed in shirt and breeches, her flowing hair worn long and open.
The woman felt the girl stirring. Scared eyes looked at her and she felt that she was trembling again. Knowing that she wouldn't understand one word she would say, the woman gently let her hands wander through the girls tussled hair and hummed a soothing melody.
The girl let out a shakey sigh as she nestled her head against the other's chest, feeling the first whimpers and tears beginning after the initial shock of the attacking. She couldn't have said properly what had happened, even if she'd been asked. It was all a blur and screams to her. She froze as arms slipped around her, lifting her head to look up at the woman.
Carefully the tears were wiped away. Arms wrapped around the younger woman and draw her near to the Indian woman's chest. She felt fingers dig in the skin of her back, as if the girl was afraid to be left alone again. She let her hands wander down the girl's back and stroke her gently, until she felt the tension slowly diminish. So focused was she on consoling the girl, that she had let her guard down and only realized the danger nearing when it was to late.
The girl looked up at a noise. She couldn't say if it had been some sound of approach or a spoken word, but suddenly men were around them, four or five. It was hard to tell as they all moved in on them at once. Torn from the woman's grasp, she was restrained by two of them, another taken hold of the woman's arms. Despite her struggles, the woman's clothing was soon shed from her skin and discarded on the ground, eyes gazing at her hungry. The butt of a rifle was shoved into her stomach then, knocking the wind from her before the weapon came around again, ramming between her legs. The woman's body slowly slipped from the man's grip, settling on her knees for a moment before she fell forward atop the rifle.
The man who'd held her arms took up the butt in one hand then, the attacker the other as they lifted. The girl's eyes were fixed on the woman hanging between them, eyes scanning over her for...what? Something. A breath, maybe, ears pricked for any sound that might come from the downed form.
Thoughts whirled. Everything happen so fast, because her mind could work on a way how to get them out of this. And then there was only cold and pain. She bit her lips until blood came. Not a cry would she grant them if it could be helped. Her eyes met the other female's ones for a short moment, before the next blow made the world go black.
The limp woman was carried to one of the horses the men had ridden and sat backwards on the saddle, her body allowed to droop backward. The horn of the saddle pressed between her shoulders as her back arched, arms and legs dangling, head drooping back, her breasts pressed skyward. The girl barely noticed her wrists being tied together, the man holding the rope mounting his own horse as they set out for the town. All eyes seemed to be fixed, but for the man leading that horse, on the bobbing mounds of flesh. Her own were fixed on them as well as she tried to discern what movement was caused by the mount and what caused by the natural rise and fall of her breathing. It was nigh on impossible to know.
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