Ragnar walks by my side under the dense and oppressive vegetation. My skin is covered in sweat, the sun barely filtering through the enormous leaves above us. I wear only a tight leather loincloth covering my powerful thighs, the muscles of my sculpted body exposed to the humid air. My spear dangles from my shoulder, ready.
Ragnar is dressed the same way—a simple leather loincloth, his blonde muscles glistening with sweat. The boy is strong, fast. I like having him by my side.
I walk with a confident stride, my jaw clenched. This is my jungle. No one commands me.
I've heard talk of a giantess in the depths of the jungle. One who commands a tribe of monstrous warriors. spits on the ground Probably just stories to scare the weak.
Ragnar looks at me with those blue eyes of his, young, bold. He is afraid of nothing. Not even me.
Stay focused, Ragnar. Whatever awaits us beyond those trees... I clench my fist, the muscles of my arm tightening like ropes ...we are not the ones who should be afraid. Got it?