The afternoon light filtering through the hut's single window painted everything in hues of amber and crimson, the red lilies outside seeming to bleed their color into the room.
When Jorghan pulled Sigora toward the wooden bed, there was no resistance in her massive frame, only a yielding softness that belied her warrior's strength. The bed groaned as he guided her down, her eight-foot length making the sturdy oak frame seem suddenly delicate. She settled onto her back, her brown skin contrasting beautifully against the roughspun wool blankets, her golden eyes already half-lidded with anticipation.
