A savage bear skin wearing women walks in the snow without feeling the chill of the cold, her twin hand axes covered with dripping blood as she comes back from kill

The woman named Roskva growls at the man she had never seen before. She moves menacingly closer to him while examining his features and wondering what he was doing out here so deep in the snowy mountains, alone. Her bearskin cloak flapping softly in the bitter wind as her breasts bounce underneath it. She licks her lips nervously before speaking slowly:

"Who... are you?"

A savage grin spreads across her face as she hears his name. "I am known as Roskva..." She pauses for a moment, considering him. "...Stranger." She draws herself up to her full height, towering over the smaller man. "What brings you so far from your home? There's no shelter for miles..." Her voice trails off suggestively, one eyebrow raising in challenge.

The snow crunches beneath her feet as she takes another step forward, making sure not to get too close just yet. Her predatory instincts are screaming at her to attack, but there's something about this man that intrigues her...

A slow nod of understanding crosses her features as she listens to him. "Perhaps we can travel together," she offers casually, "until the storm passes." Her pale blue eyes flicker down to his groin, linger there for a moment before returning to meet his gaze again. There's an almost imperceptible tightening in her core at the thought of being close to him during that time...

"Together," she repeats, rolling the word around on her tongue like sweet honey. "What do you think?"

Her eyes widen slightly at his agreement, and a low growl rumbles in her throat. "Very well," she says hoarsely, taking another step closer to him. With sudden ferocity, she seizes him by the front of his military jacket, bunching the material tightly in her hands as she yanks him roughly against her body.

Her lips part, revealing sharp teeth as her hot breath fogs over his face. "But make no mistake," she whispers into his ear, her warm breath caressing his skin, "I am not used to taking orders from anyone... especially some pathetic weakling who can't even defend himself against the elements." Her hand slips between them, grasping him firmly through his pants.

"You understand?" she demands, roughly pulling him back and forth in a harsh mockery of foreplay as her other hand tightens on the jacket, nearly choking him. The grip of her fist around his cock makes it impossible for him to reply with anything but a strangled nod. "Good," she purrs, giving him one last rough shove forward before stepping back to assess his reaction.

The blonde viking berserker growls deep in her throat as she listens to his question. "I think," she snarls, taking another step closer to him, the muscles in her arm flexing as she grips tighter on the jacket, "that we should see how well you can please me." Her breath comes faster now, stoking the flames of desire burning within her. With one powerful movement, she rips the jacket from his body and tosses it aside. "Prove your worth," she demands, eyes glittering with lust, "or die trying."

With that final threat hanging in the air, she turns away dismissively, striding over to a nearby tree stump to sit upon. The rough bark digs into her bare backside as she spreads her legs wide apart, revealing her hairy aroused pussy nestled amongst a tangle of dark curls. "Come," she calls over her shoulder, "prove that you are strong enough to make me cum."

The challenge hangs heavy in the air, thick with anticipation and desire...

The savage viking berserker lets out a low growl as she watches the man approach her. His movements are clumsy and awkward at first, but soon enough he finds his rhythm, expertly lapping at her sensitive folds before dipping lower to tease her puckered entrance. His rough hands massage her breasts and squeeze her bottom, driving her wild with desire. With a throaty moan, she spreads her legs wider, offering him deeper access as he continues his ministrations.

Her hips buck and grind against his face, urging him on as the tension within her builds to an almost unbearable peak. "Yes," she gasps, "like that... Show me how strong you really are..." Her words come out raspy and breathless, her back arching off the tree stump in a desperate search for release. As his tongue delves deeper and faster inside of her, her body convulses violently in a powerful orgasm, honey-sweet cum spurting across his face and chest.

Shuddering with the force of it, Roskva collapses back onto the stump, panting heavily as she comes down from her high. For a moment, she regrets her decision to let this man live... but then she catches sight of him, grinning like a fiend as he licks her sweet nectar off his lips and chin. It's then that she knows; even though he may not be the strongest or most skilled warrior, there is something about Manoel that makes her crave more... much, much more.

As she feels his hard length push at her entrance, instinct takes over. Her hands clamp down on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as she arches her back and helps guide him inside. His cock stretches her tightly, pushing past every resistance until it finds its home within her. The sensation is unlike anything she's ever experienced before; brutal and primal yet oddly satisfying.

Her cries muffle into his lips as he begins to pound into her, driving them both closer to the edge of sanity. Her legs lock around him tighter than a vise, her hairy thighs scratching at his back with savage hunger. Roskva's head falls back, golden locks splayed out across the cold snow behind her as she gives herself over to this foreign, yet exhilarating sensation.

Their bodies move together in perfect sync, lost in the fierce rhythm of their passion. Her muscles clench and unclench around him with each powerful thrust, driving him ever deeper inside as their mutual desire spirals out of control. With a final gasping moan, Roskva's body quakes violently beneath his, her inner walls pulsing around him in time to the rapid beat of her heart as she reaches a shuddering climax that leaves her weak-kneed and panting for air.

But even as she collapses bonelessly against the tree stump, Roskva knows that this is only the beginning...

The feel of his cum splattering across her face and lips brings another shiver to her body. Her mouth opens in silent ecstasy as the warm liquid trickles down her chin, dripping slowly onto her waiting tongue. She licks her lips lazily, savoring every last drop as he milks himself dry against her skin. As Manoel finally pulls away, leaving her spent and sated beneath him, she can't help but wonder what sort of future they might have together...

The viking warrioress tilts her head back to gaze up at the man who holds her in his arms. A sultry smile spreads across her lips as she considers him once more. "You're not so bad after all, Manoel..." she murmurs, running a hand through his mussed hair. "In fact... you might just be strong enough to survive living with me." Her voice trails off suggestively, eyes gleaming with mischief and desire.

As they travel together toward the cave she mentioned, Roskva notes the large boulder blocking their path. Without warning, she surges to her feet and hefts it effortlessly aside, revealing a darkened tunnel leading deeper into the mountain. "This," she says proudly, gesturing grandly with one arm, "is where I make my home." With a wicked grin, she turns back to Manoel, standing tall once more. "Welcome to our new beginning..."

Inside the cave, Roskva's bare feet dig into the soft earth as she moves through the dimly lit tunnel ahead of him. Her chest heaves with each labored breath; not from exertion, but anticipation. She glances back over her shoulder at Manoel, a sultry smile curling her lips. "Just follow me," she purrs huskily, gesturing for him to continue deeper into their new lair.

As they travel through the winding tunnel, Roskva leads them past several cozy chambers before finally coming to an immense cavern at the back; a warm fire crackling merrily in its center. "This," she says proudly, spreading her arms wide, "is my den." Her eyes sparkle with pride and lust as they meet his once more. "Make yourself at home."

The tension between them is palpable; electric. Roskva stands before him now, naked and unashamed, waiting to see what he will do next...

The blonde viking woman's eyes light up at the mention of food. "Very well," she says with a nod, taking a step closer to him. "But understand this," she adds softly, her voice laced with dangerously seductive undertones, "if you ever plan on eating any more of my cooking... or anything else I might have to offer..." Her free hand moves possessively over one full breast, squeezing gently before sliding lower between her legs. "...you'd better make sure that you don't disappoint me."

Her words are a challenge; an invitation for him to prove himself again and again. The fire crackles and pops in the background as they stand there together, barely more than arm's length apart...

Her lips curl into a satisfied smile as she takes the food he's prepared and sits down on a large, comfortable-looking rock near the fire. "Thank you," she murmurs before taking a bite, her lips closing around her teeth with delicate precision. "Mm... this is good." Her eyes meet his over her shoulder as she chews and swallows, challenging him once more to keep up the pace.

The tension between them is almost unbearable now; an electric current flowing back and forth with every breath they take. As he sits behind her, his body pressed so close against hers, it's easy for her to forget that they're not alone... but then again, perhaps they never truly were. The bond they share goes deeper than mere companionship; it's primal, instinctual.

She wonders what sort of future awaits them in this cave together... and whether or not she can survive having him around for much longer without losing her sanity entirely.

A low, throaty laugh escapes her lips as he speaks. She twists around in his arms to face him fully, their bodies pressing tightly together once more. "Indeed," she murmurs with a sultry smile, running a hand through his mussed hair, "I did enjoy our little meal." Her gaze drops to his lips before lifting back up to meet his eyes again, her expression unreadable. "Lead the way, Manoel," she purrs huskily, "show me where I can rest my weary head."

She takes the clothes and examines them closely. The fabric is soft but durable, well-made. A satisfied smile curves her lips as she begins to undress, shedding her bearskin cloak and revealing the dark hair that covers her body. With practiced efficiency, she dons the black shirt, moletom military pants, and black socks, enjoying the feeling of warmth they provide against her skin.

Standing before him once more, Roskva tugs at the hem of the shirt self-consciously. "Thank you," she murmurs softly. Her eyes slide down to his feet before looking back up at him again, a mischievous glint in their depths. "And what about you?" she asks with a wicked grin, gesturing toward the clothes he's still wearing. "Aren't you cold?"

Her head rests against his shoulder as she listens to the sound of their breathing slowly even out. The warmth from their bodies is welcome in this chilly cave, and despite everything that's happened between them, there's a certain comfort in simply being near him like this. She wonders how much longer they can keep up this strange dance; sharing food, shelter, clothes... emotions.

Eventually, her eyelids grow heavy with sleep, her muscles relaxing against his. The last thought that crosses her mind before she drifts off is one of curiosity: what will tomorrow bring for them?

Her soft cry rips through the silence, wrenching him awake. The vestiges of his dreams dissipate as he takes in her pale, tear-streaked face; the wetness on her cheeks and lips contrasting sharply with her golden hair. With a shaking hand, he reaches out to touch her; brushing the hair away from her forehead, stroking her cheek gently.

Her body trembles in response, leaning into his touch even as she whimpers softly. "Shhh," he whispers, curling an arm around her shoulders and drawing her close. "It's all right, Roskva. I'm here." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, inhaling deeply, trying to will himself back to sleep even as his heart aches for her.

The vibrations in his chest soothe her like a lullaby as she finally manages to calm down. Sleep comes more easily the second time around, and she doesn't stir again until the faint glow of sunlight spills across the cave floor from beyond their makeshift curtain of animal hides. Groaning, she rolls onto her back and stretches lazily, yawning widely before glancing over at Manoel, who's still fast asleep beside her.

For a moment, she can almost pretend that they're normal; a couple sharing a life together in some cozy cabin far away from here. But then reality returns with the memories of their past: the bloodshed and violence that define them both. With a sigh, she pushes herself up onto her elbows, wincing as the muscles in her back protest. Perhaps today they can find some way to forget all that for just a little while...