She stared at the knobby bare feet and felt a strong desire to punch someone or something. The masculine intensity of the emotion felt alien but good. Tucking hard knuckles into fists, she watched as forearm muscles bunched beneath coarse skin that was patchy with black hair. Another string of four-letter words sparked deep in the barrel of her throat and exploded upward, ricocheting from cliff to cliff.
She continued her awkward trek down the dripping, fern-strewn gorge, toes and heels bleeding from the sharp rocks. She was shoeless and hungry, but at least she'd been left in a fairly athletic bodmod; the muscles been working for hours, and were still not tired. But everything was cold and wet, and this forsaken wilderness seemed endless.
Think. Where the hell was she? Who had dumped her here, and why?? Bodmod matching cost a shit-ton of cred. No one would spend that much without a good reason. Why her? But never mind the who and why; the where was much more immediate.
Clella's gut told her this was some backwater hole of a planet; worst case scenario was, she'd been abandoned out on the fringe of some minor Brandscape like the boondocks of her birth. Still, she might luck out and find a conglomerate with a shifter she could hop to one of the majors, or a hub she could plug into in case she was already in one and this place was just some sort of recpark or something. But there had been no sound of air traffic all morning, so she knew her gut was probably right.
She ground her new bodmod's teeth. Things could have been worse. They could have just killed her.
It was raining and nearly dark when the cliffs finally gave way to reveal a tiny cluster of lights, twinkling from the right side of the now broad valley. Clella cracked the bodmod's stiff neck, stretched its legs, and picked up her pace. Soon she would stop shivering, and most of the pain would leave the swollen, brutalized toes.