Anya thought for a moment. Then she turned to the huge man.
"Sorry but Im not ready to surrender myself to your whim!" she
said finally.
"A pity!" he sighed, "But even though you wont admit defeat
I will give you some supplies, as I dont wish ill for you."
Later Zangief, the trader, trudged back inside his ruinous
abode alone. Anya was already walking away, her sensational figure
contained in a torn but servicable tshirt and denim shorts. For
her feet he had given her an almost new pair of thigh length leather
boots. And finally he had offered Anya a few days worth of food and
water.
Soon the traders hut was left far behind and Anya headed into
some nearby foothills. As she climbed the rough stone strewn path
she looked back. Below her stretched the long shoreline and the scattered
ruins that she had recently visited. Taking a moment she then turned and strode onwards and upwards into the hills. |