How long had she known Ayla? Longer than time itself, or at least it seemed that way. Kira drove the horses on, her eyes scanning the landscape while her mind drifted to thoughts of her passenger. The witch. The one who had always been there.
Immortality was not easy.
At first it had seemed like a blessing to stay strong while others grew weak and passed, but Kira now realized it was as much a curse. The world was a very lonely place when one faced the fact that all relationships were fleeting, ardent lovers turned to old women in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Only Ayla remained constant in an ever changing world.
Kira could not stop her mind from wandering along the curves of Ayla’s body. It had been a long time since the notion of intimacy between them had been a possibility. Ayla had first seen her as nothing more than a whelp to be whipped, and then a warrior to be healed, and then, well, the passing of centuries somehow did not afford an opportunity for any physical romance.