The sounds of the jungle were all around Turunga as she silently stalked through the lush green underbrush. The amazon paused, crouching low to examine the footprints in the mud. Overhead, bright macaws squaked and chirped noisily. She grinned. Fresh tracks, not two hours old. She was getting close now.

The young woman straightened up. She was, like all of her Amazonian sisters, tall and muscular, with long legs, curvy hips and large breasts. Her skin was a bright bronze, covered only by a narrow leather thong about her waist, holding a scarlet loincloth in place and bright blue bodypaint in decorative patterns across her smooth skin. Her dark hair was tied back in a long braid hanging down her back. The huntress was armed with a long blow gun and a dagger, tucked into her belt. Aside from a few beaded bracelets and some other decorative trinkets, that was the extent of her outfit.

Further along, Turunga came upon her prey. A small herd of tapir foraged in the underbrush along the banks of the river. Careful to keep upwind up the snorting creatures, Turunga crept forward, slowly working her way into blowgun range. She paused, peering through the bushes, picking out the largest one. She reached to her belt and selected a dart; its tip coated in poison, and slipped it into the blowgun.

Turunga raised the blowgun to her lips, imagining the fall of the dart as it arced to her target. Then she paused. Her footing on the soft ground near the river was no longer so firm. Looking down, she saw to her surprise her feet had already sunk to the ankles in the soft, wet sand. She gave a cry of shock, which sent the tapirs fleeing off into the forest, and tried to lift her feet out of the muck. To her dismay, both remained firmly rooted in place. Even as she struggled, they sank another inch down. In her focus on stalking her prey, she’d unwittingly wandered into a patch of quicksand!

Turunga forced herself to be still, and not to panic. She knew, from tales told my the older huntresses that struggling at this point would only mire her deeper in quicksand. Instead, she looked around, trying to spot a branch or vine or anything she could grab hold of and pull herself out with, all the while trying to ignore the feeling of the sand shifting beneath her bare feet, the muck slowly rising up her calves.

There! She spotted a vine that didn’t seem to be too far away. With a mighty lunge, Turunga leaned forward, scrabbling with her hands at the green vine. The sudden movement caused the sand to loosen beneath her feet and she sank almost to the knees, but she managed to grab at it. With a triumphant grin, she started to pull on the vine, working herself out of the quicksand.

It soon turned into a cry of horror as the branch holding the vine snapped, her lifeline going limp as it fell to the forest floor. With the sudden loss of tension, she lost her balance. In the brief struggle to regain it, she sank to her waist now. She held her arms up, over her hands. If they got trapped in the muck she’d have no chance at all.    

From her increasingly precarious position, Turunga looked around, desperately, for another vine or branch in her much diminished reach. To her dismay, there were none. She gave a long sigh. She had no choice. Throwing back her head, she gave a long keening cry, which echoed through the forests far and wide. After repeating it a couple more times, she slumped down, trying to keep as still as possible as she waited.

An hour past, during which Turunga had sunk all the way to her breasts in the muck. Then, she heard footsteps rustling through the underbrush. “Please don’t let it be…” Turunga said quietly, but her plea ended with a groan as the bushes parted and Zianga the Huntress strode into view. The other woman was a close match to Turunga in looks, though her bodypaint was red, her hair worn up and tied with a leather cord. She paused a second, leaning on the spear in one hand, the other resting on her hip as she smirked down at the stricken huntress.

“Well, how goes the hunt?” She asked sarcastically.

“Ha ha…” Turunga deadpanned from her position down in the quicksand. “Just get me out of here.”

Zianga shook her head tauntingly. “You know the penalty?” She asked.

“Yes, yes!” Turunga replied. She was up to her armpits now and didn’t have time to argue.

“Very well.” Moving with exaggerated slowness, Zianga took a coil of rope from her belt and unfurled it. Keeping well back from the wet sand, she casually tossed one end towards the other huntress. While Turunga scrabbled for it, Zianga went and looped the other end around a stout tree. She held it tight while Turunga slowly hauled herself up out of the muck.

After a few minutes of effort, Turunga finally scrabbled up onto firm ground once more. Somewhere along the line, she’d lost her loincloth, along with most of her other trinkets, but at the moment, the thick coating of sand and muck that coated her from the shoulders down did as good a job covering her up.

“Now…” Zianga said, starting to gather up the rope. “Do you have something to say?”

With an exaggerated sigh, Turunga got on her knees before the other huntress. “You have saved me from the peril of the quicksand and by the ancient laws of our tribe me life belongs to you until I have earned it back. From sun up to sun down, until two seasons shall have passed I am your obedient slave.” She said, bowing her head.

“And I shall enjoy every moment of it.” Zianga replied.

“I’m sure you will…” Turunga replied, with a scowl.

“Is that any way to speak to your mistress, slave?” Zianga chided her.

“Technically I don’t become your slave until we return to the village and announce it before the tribe.” Turunga replied. She left it unsaid that her term of servitude also didn’t technically begin until then, so every day they took returning would extend it another day. Unfortunately, Zianga knew the laws of their people just as well. Odds were good they’d be taking a leisurely route back to the village.

“That’s right.” Zianga replied, with an evil grin. “So I suppose that makes you my prisoner, captured by my mercy as much as if I had taken you in battle.” She took the end of the rope in hand once more.

Turunga sighed, but did nothing as Zianga walked around behind her. Working quickly, the other huntress soon had her new captive’s hands tightly lashed behind her back. The long rope was then looped once around Turunga’s neck, knotted securely in front, leaving a few feet dangling in front of her, which the triumphant Zianga took up as a leash.

“Come, my prisoner.” Zianga said, tugging on it.  Turunga grumbled, by rose to her feet and followed after her captor. Zianga grinned. “I’ve got so many plans for you when we get back, sister…”