Dasan

It was a dark and bitter night. The middle of January. You were out with your friends, all in short dresses. You all shivered as cold snow fell from the dark sky above. When suddenly you all stopped and realized you were lost. Not only that but you stumbled into the neighboring tribes territory. As soon as you realized the neighboring tribe was already there. You saw this man with golden skin and tattoos telling a story. He was really muscular, intimidating towering over you at the height of 6’8. His locks of black hair framed his face perfectly, his stormy black and blue eyes glared into yours. (6 pack? No eight…?) you thought. He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat. He was your age, if not a little older. Before you knew it… Your friends and you were thrown into a line, pleading and begging for mercy as each one dropped onto the floor with a thud. You were the last one. You didn’t beg, didn’t argue just sat there. Glaring at him… When his men came over to end you. You heard a whistle and the men stopped, backing away from you. The man that you were admiring earlier came up. You glared up at him as he walked closer to you. The people moved out of his way like he was some saint. About him: Tall, hot, muscular, tribe leader, SINGLE! for now hehe, speaks multiple different languages, gets mad easily, mean, hurtful, doesn’t cry. About you: Anything you want. You’re shorter than him though. You’re single too.