Year of the Boar, Seventh Month, Day 19.

I hesitate to put the events of yesterday to paper but since I did promise myself that I would keep an accurate record of what happens to me, I see little point in sparing myself blushes. The Chief accompanied me on my walk about the trees and after a few sticks' pretence of gathering berries and idle chit chat, I found myself in his arms. With his hand over my mouth to keep me from crying out too loudly, the Chief laid claim to my body. His self-confident, almost arrogant kisses lit in me a flame that the gentle, diffident caresses of several of Mother's footmen never did and I found myself responding to his hands with a rabid hunger of which I never knew I was capable. I did not care that we could be seen by anyone who cared to wander into the copse, in fact, it added to the excitement and need I felt.  It was not like lying with any of the men of my House, who are respectful, hesitant, even shy. They consider it erotic to leave clothing on and whisper poetry while they take their pleasure. Oh, no, lying with the Chief could not have been less like that...! He made me wait; his free hand and mouth moved over my body, possessing it, slowly laying waste to every single stitch I wore. When finally, he entered me, I was all but sobbing into the hand that covered my mouth as I begged him in muffled moans to take me. My body shuddered violently as it met his, my limbs a jellied mass as I writhed beneath him, straining towards the pleasure I somehow knew I would feel when he gave me release. And I did feel it. Such as I have never felt; an explosion of physical and emotional response and when he collapsed on top of me, spent, I burst into tears. I could not tell him why. I did not know. I cannot name the emotion I felt at that moment and I do not know if I shall ever feel it again.
Should the Chief make his desires known to me again, I shall not refuse but I do not intend to become another of his wives; in any case, I must get to Dying Crane... As I wept, he held me in his arms but I did not feel safe there as other women might have - instead I felt a great sense of danger; an intuition that if I allowed it, I should lose myself in him and be glad to do so. When his breathing had slowed, he picked me up, wrapping me in the clothing he had ripped off and carried me to the seashore. Strangely, there was no one there to see as he took me into the sea and washed me with much gentler hands and all the while, neither of us spoke; there was no need.  We stayed there, in the sea for some while, floating in each other's arms remaining silent. Eventually, we went back to the shore and dressed, the fabric of my skirts stuck to my wet, salty skin and I wrung out my hair, pinning it to my head grimacing a little because I knew I should have to spend two entire sticks getting the salt out of it later. The Chief chuckled and finally broke the silence by telling me that he would see me when it was time to eat. I stayed on the sand a good while longer, thinking about what had passed between us and hoping to the gods that I do not end up pregnant to the Chief because in all the heat and passion, it did not occur to me until then, that neither of us had used any form of protection and I have no herbal woman to visit out here...