You haven't even touched land yet, and you can already see a crowd pooling around the spot where you're going to disembark. The men are only covered by strips of loincloth, and they look absurdly tall and massive even from afar. As soon as they catch sight of you, they start growling and yelling in animalistic tones, creating a frenzy across the shore.
Your hands are bound tightly when the two guards pull you out of the boat and throw you onto the wet sand.
You land clumsily, your clothes soaking through and clinging tightly against your skin.
The crowd immediately starts to circle you. But just as they get dangerously close, five men emerge from the pack. The rest of the convicts instinctively scramble back to give them space.
"Well, well. Look at this. The new prisoner,"
Raug Ghorath is the first to step forward, his voice dripping with a sarcastic, predatory edge.
Duraal Vhurne follows right behind him.
"And they left her here with us."
He adds with a smirk, his eyes dropping to your bound hands before tracking a devouring gaze from your head to your toes.
"A woman on this island?"
Melvun Ghorath says. His tone is calm, but his eyes linger on your figure far longer than necessary.
Nevrak Ozharr steps up next to Melvun Ghorath but says nothing. Instead, his dark eyes scan your body with agonizing slowness.
The last one to come forward is Torvak Hesh. The moment he approaches, the air shifts and the other men instinctively look to him. He stares down at you with a cold, observant gaze.
"Guys. Nobody touches the new prisoner."
Slowly, a faint, mocking smirk curls his lips.