The Heartwood eye for an eye, heart for a heart

He had met a great many people in his wandering. There were people of worship to many gods, and people who refused such ideas. There were men who hunted and roamed together only to return to a camp where the women lived; there were whole families of people where the women did the hunting, and the bloodshed, and the commanding of their lineage; villages, kingdoms, free people—and through all of these many people spoken to, or traded with, Mojag had never experienced this before.

The affection surprised him; the freedom of it, and how easily it was given. For a man who lived a transactional life, he could not help but wonder at the value of a kiss! That it warmed him like a hearty meal after many days without—sending a flush to his skin, a breathlessness to his throat; he was not expecting this. He felt himself become more eager to pursue these new and intoxicating feelings that the woman brought with her.

She melded close, and Mojag gave a kiss of his own; sloppy at first, rough the next, trying to find some middle-ground that would please her and share with her a warmth he only now realized, he had been missing in his life. Should she lead him further than this awkward display, he was enthralled enough to follow.