On the Banks of the River Ua
A dance by our Sister Ame (Amethyst Starostin); set to African Ghana Drums and performed at the FW Dance Event and broadcast on GPR.
Ame, “Before, I begin, I would like to thank all these lovely Ladies for their participation today. It has truly warmed my heart to see all of you here and sharing your unique styles. It is my sincere hope FW dance will continue to grow and become as widely accepted as slave dance. As Nevar has mentioned throughout the event, the books speak of many different types of FW and dances in Gor. I will be dancing one of those different types.” and grins.
On the banks of the river Ua, a crouching taluna fishes for her tribe, partly camouflaged by the thick jungle brush. Rising to stretch as if greeting ascending Lar-Torvis, observant green eyes catch the canoe gliding through the morning mist in her direction. Dropping quickly to her previous position, a resolved smile grows over plump, rosy lips, a plan formulates…
Ame gazes through the heavy fronds from her tucked position, slowly appraising his worth with the practiced eye of a Merchant. Deciding the male would make a fine slave for the black Ubar and his canal, rises up languidly as a larl awakening from sleep releasing a long ululation of warning.
She gives a quiet snort of derision and begins to move lithe frame in time with the jungle drums echoing her warning about the ‘mgeni’ on the river knowing all too well he will believe her an easy catch and trophy to prove his prowess in the rain forest.
She feigns indifference as the canoe moves almost silently toward her, quickly scanning the ground checking for the spear previously laid beside her, glances at the man as if noticing him for the first time, rhythm of well rounded hips taking on a more enticing movement, beckoning him to join her.
She dips toward the ground, small hands roll in another motion of invitation, full lips curve into a calculated smile of challenge, eyes smoky green as the depths of the turbulent Thassa narrow slightly at his answering grin of confidence, the only indication of moiling inner thoughts.
Ame dances with seeming abandon as the drums resound in growing urgency, signaling her sisters are drawing near. Humid jungle moisture clinging to lightly bronzed skin, long auburn braids swirl about long neck and shoulders flinging shimmering droplets remindful of a soft rain.
Her skin clad feet trace a series of complicated steps on the spongy jungle floor, pelvis undulating while never removing her gaze from the ‘mgeni’, delicate ears sharp to any approaching sounds, mentally becoming one with the surrounding area, muscles stretch in readiness through the dance.
She studies his approach, long arms and fingers weaving intricate patterns of information for the tribe now stealthily surrounding them, shoulders shimmy in time with the driving beat directing his lascivious gaze to her ample chest, reckoning the dwindling distance between them.
She retrieves the spear in a flurry of movement releasing a deafening howl of fury, strong legs propel her forward whirling the weapon in the dance of the dervish, months of pent emotion drive the staccato jabs and counters, oblivious to the rising bruises and blood covering faintly tanned skin.
She continues the assault, nimble feet glide over the forest floor, strong arms wield the light weapon with ease as limber form bends and dips like the jungle fronds during the torrential rains, lungs struggle to draw deeper breaths in the damp and heavy air.
Ame releases a loud snarl in response to his premature look of victory, presses the attack with steely resolve, draws on the combined hurts and experiences of her “family of water” at the hands of men, drives the ‘mgeni’ back a few more horts into the waiting trap of armed tribe mates.
She lays the spear tip against the pulse in his throat as he falls back under the weight of the others, kneels beside him, green eyes flashing in triumph while the male is rapidly disarmed and bound, reckoning the trade with a shout of the inland speech…
Ame shouts,”Ushindi Taluna Wa Ngao!”
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