We had begun our trek, but this was not the forest; only flat and open land, which Mitt was leading us through. Throughout the time, he was going on about how he and the others had taken down a mammoth.
After what felt like an endless hour of a Long and weary walk, I would say, yet I happened to see Ryan and Tusk far away. And indeed: a gigantic mammoth lying on the earth.
There was no way we could carry it, even with all of us. So Tusk and Mitt started lashing the beast with jute ropes, and—of course—we had to pull it. Fuck. Were we really supposed to drag this thing all the way back to the tribe? Fuck this shit.
I was just thinking of an excuse to fool them into pulling the Mammoth by themselves, leaving me alone. When the ground vibrated—a low, thumping sound that wasn't wind or the sound of a human being, but something faster.
Then the thumping exploded into a storm of hooves.
Dust kicked up in a churning wall as riders emerged from the tall grass, fanning out in a perfect, suffocating circle. My stomach dropped. Horses. Dozens of them, their flanks glistening with sweat, nostrils flaring.
These horses were very distinct from the ones I knew. They were shaggy and hairy, and their size was much bigger than a regular horse. However, what really shocked me wasn't the animals - it was the riders.
Females.
Unclothed women.
No hides, no woven skirts, not even a leaf to cover themselves. Their skin was a mixture of old scars, their breasts exposed, nipples dark against the sun-browned flesh.
Some of them had spears tied to their backs; They didn't ride as the hunters would. They rode like conquerors.
Mitt's breath hissed through his teeth. "Ravina," he growled, voice dripping with something between rage and reluctant respect. "You've got nerves showing your face here. This isn't your territory."
The woman at the center—taller than the rest, her black hair braided with bones—didn't so much as twitch. Her mare stamped, hooves crushing the dirt as she tilted her head, eyes dragging over us like we were prey.
"Funny," she said, voice smooth as a blade sliding from its sheath. "I was about to say the same." She gestured lazily at the mammoth. "Leave it. Walk away. Or we'll help you walk."
Ryan's knuckles whitened around his axe. "Oh, you'll help us, will you?" His laugh was a broken thing. "We bled for this kill. You think you can just ride in like this—like some kind of—of thieves—and take it?" His gaze flicked over the women, lingering a second too long before he spat on the ground. "This isn't a negotiation. It's ours."
A beat of silence. The kind that presses against your ribs, steals your breath. Then Ravina smiled.
It wasn't the kind of smile that promised mercy. It was the kind that promised teeth.
"Last chance," she said, voice dripping with the weight of a blade unsheathed.
The women moved as one, their horses stepping in slow, deliberate circles around us. Spears never wavered—always pointed at chests, throats, the soft spots between ribs. The mare nearest me snorted, hot breath blasting against my neck. I could see the pulse in its throat, the way its ears twitched, waiting for the command to trample.
My fingers itched for the magical tool hidden in system storage. One flick, and I could turn this around. But Ryan's hand shot out in surrender.
"Stop," he hissed through his teeth.
"We'll give you half," he called out, voice straining to sound reasonable. "That's all we can spare." A beat. His throat bobbed. "But you have to help us move it back to our tribe." His free hand gestured vaguely at the mammoth, at us, at the spears still trained on our chests. "A fair trade."
Ravina did not reply immediately. She allowed the silence to become long, saw the danger of those spears to take root. Then she turned her head, looking over our group, Mitt scowling, Tusk with his white-knuckled hold on his club, the manner in which my breath had about choked when a spear point scraped my shoulder.
Finally, she lifted a hand, palm up. A gesture that might've been dismissal. Might've been a signal.
"Hmph. Fine," Her lips curled. "But remember no tricks." Her gaze flicked to me, lingered. "And keep that in mind, we got nothing to lose," so many unspoken things hanging in the air like the stink of blood. "But you still have many things to lose, like your people, family."
" We know..."
Ryan replied in an angry voice.
What the fuck did that mean?
And why were they all women?
This is not the way it was expected to be in the Stone Age Era.
Men hunted. Men ruled. Men led with fire and spear, and the unshaken certainty that the world bent to their will. That's what the texts had said.
That's what history books had drilled into my skull—cave paintings of mammoth hunts with male figures standing triumphant, oral histories of chiefs and warlords, the unspoken law that power had a gender, and it wasn't this.
But here they were.
Female warriors, on horse, riding naked, like one predatory creature. It was not the light, careless laugh of women in the stories, but was low-pitched, rhythmic, the sort of laugh that crept along your skin.
As Ryan faltered over his words, their grins became stiffer. Their eyes shone when the voice of Eric broke. They were not playing according to any rules I knew.
Unless.
A cold thought coiled in my gut.
Unless this wasn't the Stone Age I knew. Not the one in textbooks, not the one in documentaries. Maybe history had lied to us.
Or maybe—maybe—I have travelled not back in time to the Stone Age, but this is a completely different and new world.
Ravina dropped off her mare with the grace that caused my muscles to ache. The other women trailed, their naked feet sneaking through the complete soil. No hesitation. No discussion.
They did this as they had done a thousand times before--they tied jute ropes to the legs of the mammoth, and turned the other ends of the same ropes around the saddles of four horses. The beasts didn't protest. They didn't dare.
When the final knot was completed, Ravina looked at us, wiping her hands on her thighs. "You guys better be on the horses if you want to move quickly," she said, with authority in her voice, but not a request.
The expression of Eric resembled being told to drink poison.
"You can kill us if you want!" he snarled, spittle flying. His voice did not tremble, although his hands did. "We will not sit. Not with dirty women like you."
I stared at him.
Really?
And there we were outnumbered, out-armed, and a dead mammoth we could not drag, and a tribe of warriors that could gut us before we took two strides--and Eric was setting a line in the sand over them?
Ravina was there, her body glistening with sweat but not hiding the fact that she had obviously been out in the sun for a long time and that her nipples were dark, large, and looked as if someone had been sucking on them. Her crotch was a wild black forest - thick as the fur of some goddamn animal.
She pushed her hands down into her hips, just about finger-width above that unruly tangle, and grinned as if she knew that I was looking at her. Like she knew that my cock was already twitching.
And even then, Eric didn't want to feel her body. What the hell was wrong with him?
Ravina scoffed at Eric. "It's your choice..."
I noticed none of the women reacted angrily to Eric being called by such a dirty woman, as if they were used to it.
Man, I really didn't feel like hoofing it back, not with a bunch of horses just standing right there. But, wait—how come Ravina gets horses and our tribe doesn't? Seriously, what's up with that?
Ryan just blurted something out, breaking the weird quiet. "Ravina, it's a long journey. Why not do this—you give us a few horses, and we can seat two people on each. You can shift the other women onto the horses so we can ride together."
Ravina's spear caught the light as she turned her face, the corner of her mouth curving like a newly freed blade. "Hmph..." Her voice was so sugary as if she was offering venom at the same time. "So that you guys can run away with our horses?"
She stretched the last word out as if it were a noose hanging between us. "There's a hell of a lot of meat in the mammoth, but it's not worth trading one of our mares for."
Before I could blink, she swung onto her horse. The other women followed, their fingers tightening around reins as they urged their mounts forward.
The dead mammoth was pulled against the ropes, its huge body protesting, shaking the earth beneath my feet.
Ryan and Mitt exchanged a glance—jaws clenched, hands flexing around their own weapons—but they didn't move. They couldn't
. Not with spears levelled at their chests. The procession began, slow and agonizing, the beast's labored breaths syncing with the drag of its tusks through the mud.
Then Ravina's shadow fell over me.
Her spear pressed against my throat, cold enough to steal my breath, making me come back to my senses. "Kid," she purred, "why aren't you moving?"
My pulse hammered in my ears. One wrong word, one twitch—
"DON'T HURT DEXTER."
Ryan's voice cracked like a whip. Noah lunged forward, his face flushed. "He's our healer! You can't—"
"Shut up, Noah!" Mitt's snarl cut through him. "Don't spew nonsense. When did we have a healer?" he winked at Noah, stopping him from telling the truth.
Ravina's eyebrows climbed halfway up her forehead. "A healer?" The spear dipped, but her hands stayed glued to my shoulders, yanking me closer, then jerking me back like I was some busted puppet.
"You"—shake—"kid"—another shake—"are you actually a healer?" Her breath blasted my face, all charred meat and this heavier, sharper edge—panic, maybe. Or fear. "C'mon, spill. Don't mess around with me."
I darted a glance at Noah. Why the hell did he say that? Was he trying to save me? Or had he just signed my death warrant?
I swallowed hard. "Yes, Elder Ravina." My voice didn't waver—grandfather's lessons drilled into me like scripture. "My grandfather was a healer. He taught me... how to treat women's diseases." The lie tasted bitter, but it was the only card I had.
Ravina's eyes flicked to Ryan, then Mitt, then back to me. A slow, triumphant grin split her face. "Change of plans," She jerked her chin at the mammoth. "Take it. All of it." Then her grip turned vise-like. "But this kid is coming with me."
Mitt's face twisted. "Ravina, he's just a kid—"
"I'll send him back." Her tone brooked no argument. "Unharmed. I promise." The last word was a blade wrapped in silk. "I just need him for... a small task."
Mitt's knuckles whitened around his axe. "No. I won't allow—"
Ravina's signal was subtle—a flick of her wrist. A dozen spear tips bristled toward Mitt's throat. "I'm sorry," she murmured, "but I need this."
One blink, I'm on my feet, the next—Ravina's arm snaps around my waist, vise-tight and just as unforgiving, yanking me up onto her horse like I'm nothing more than luggage. I mean, damn. The girl could have warned me instead of manhandling me in front of the whole world.
I slam into her back, practically eat her damn spine with my nose. She's blazing hot—sweaty as hell, like she's been rolling around on a car hood after summer rain. Instinct just takes over, right? My hands claw her side, desperate not to bite dirt under this twitchy beast losing its mind down below.
"Sorry, kid," Ravina grunts. Like hell she is. There's a shitty little smirk in every syllable, sharp enough to slice. Sorry? Yeah, bite me.
Suddenly, the horse explodes forward, rearing like we're in some kind of sword-and-sorcery drama, and my gut drops to my knees. I bark out a gasp, legs clamping around her, and get glued to her back with the force of it.
Let's just say the collision between us—not exactly subtle. Hips grinding in a way that's probably not safe for work, adrenaline raging, blood screaming in every nerve. I heard the sound of System's notification as my cock touched her asscheeks.. 50 points for each asscheeks. My total point score reached 11148.
And then, yeah, the obvious: my cock, already halfway to trouble because fear does wild things, goes rigid against her ass, separated only by the world's thinnest excuse for clothing- my leaf skirt.
"Dexter!"
Mitt's voice tore through the noise like a whip, angry and raw, yet with an element of terror. "We will find you! Stay strong!"
Ravina let out this laugh—it slithered, dark and slick, like smoke curling off dying embers. "Oh, trust me, he's gonna be just fine," she crooned, her tone thick with sugar but edged with steel. "Isn't that right, healer?"
I didn't respond.
The horse burst ahead, its powerful muscles, which were underneath us, looked like a tempest, winding and unwinding. Each step really shook me. My cock, which was already half hard from the adrenaline, was pressing against the firm and round part of Ravina's butt.
Honestly, I tried stepping back, but nope—the horse had other plans. It felt like every stubborn shuffle just dragged me closer to her. Like, thanks a lot, buddy, really.
My hands, all sweaty and useless, kinda slid up her sides before I even realized what I was doing. Next thing I knew, my palms bumped right under her boobs—yeah, totally not planned—and I ended up grabbing on for dear life, trying not to fall over or something.
I earned 200 more points from holding both tits. My total points have reached 11348.