"It is still three hours before dark, can your magic bow seek game before nightfall?" The caravan master wondered."John signaled Zithrusa, who approached with the bow, treating it in a way appropriate to handling an object of powers. John performed some hocus pocus and consulted his 'Spirits', and felt that he could sense a large predator following along beside the caravan, more curious than hungry."My bow tells me that there is game near, that I could hunt before dark, but it would not be meat for eating, and I would need a steady horse to bring it's pelt in with. I ween it would overtax our old ass."The Caravan master was astonished, such a fur to overtax the sturdy little donkey would be of value enough to pay their way as passengers, not workers. "Very well, bring me the fur of the game that isn't for meat, and we can talk more." It was a win win situation for the caravan master no matter the outcome, so there was no cost to his agreeing to the deal. He signaled for a calm, blind. Gshh...” He held his throat and grimaced. Camilla guessed he had spent most of the evening shouting too.He pointed to the hallway with a questioning expression. Camilla nodded eagerly and was thrilled when he pulled her out of the crowd.Camilla rubbed her ears in the relative quiet of the front hall. Stuart seemed relieved too. It seemed neither of them were partiers, but Camilla had already guessed that about him.Stuart tried to speak but again only a croak and a hiss emerged. He touched his throat and looked apologetic. Camilla tried to reply but had the same results—a hoarse croak that hurt like hell. They both hissed in laughter at their painful predicament.There was a den or library on the other side of the hall. Camilla took Stuart’s hand and led him inside the doorway. It was dim, but she saw it was occupied. One couple lay on the couch kissing and pawing each other. In a corner another girl was bent over the arm of a recliner as a guy stood behind, fucking her.Camilla gasped..
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