Round 7

The morning chill cut through Hera's thin shirt as she pressed herself against the church wall, trying to make herself smaller. The voices outside were getting louder - male voices, multiple people approaching. She could hear Abby whimpering softly nearby but didn't dare look over yet. "Shut up," she hissed under her breath. "They'll hear you." The sun was still low enough that shadows clung to every corner of the abandoned building. Hera strained her ears, trying to count how many sets of footsteps there were. Three? Four? "Fuck," she breathed out softly.*

Across the courtyard, Silra crouched behind a crumbling statue, her heart pounding so hard she was sure it would give them away. The footsteps stopped just outside the main entrance - too close for comfort. She could feel the residual lubricant still drying on her inner thighs from last night's... activities. Every movement shifted the evidence of what they'd been doing mere hours ago. "Stay down," she whispered to the robed woman cowering beside her.

Jeane had found a hiding spot in the bell tower, her wings tucked tightly against her back to minimize her silhouette. The position gave her a good view of both the approaching men and her scattered party members - not ideal, but better than being caught out in the open. "What the fuck is going on?" she muttered to herself, watching as Hera tried to calm Abby's panic.* This was not how she'd imagined this morning playing out. At all.

Downstairs, the captive women remained bound and gagged in the makeshift bedroom, their muffled protests barely audible over the creaking of the old building settling around them. The sounds outside had them even more agitated than before - fear made them thrash against their restraints with renewed energy. Somewhere nearby, Halie was also hiding, her earlier bravado replaced by genuine concern about being discovered like this.

Back in the courtyard, Silra risked a quick glance over the statue's shoulder. The men outside were circling the building now, calling out to each other in low voices. She recognized one of them - the guy from last night at the bar who'd tried hitting on her. "Fuck," she hissed softly. This was bad. Very bad.