I'm not exactly sure what kind of genre this is. I took it from the Book of Mormon, so... religous fiction....? I thougth that it would be an interesting little story. Anyway, sorry for the cut off. *^^ I'm not sure what I want to put next, or rather, how to say it.
“What did you catch today Kish?”
“Ah, just a Nephite trying to cause trouble.” Sariah glanced at his raised arm. There was a bow, a bundle of sharp arrows, a sling, a couple of spears and a sword. He was obviously up to something.
“What were you doing, substituting for your ten thousand?”
Kish laughed at her comment, his grip slackening dramatically. Sariah was surprised that the Nephite didn’t run at the chance.
“He calls himself Ammon. He’s from Zarahemla.”
Sariah gazed at the young man before her, not bothering to hide her disgust. His perfectly light skin, hair falling plain and black around his face. He didn’t seem much of a threat, she thought smugly. Sariah turned and stretched, knowing that it would catch both of their eye. She turned to see Kish have a playful smile on his face, and the Nephite looking across the valley. Sariah frowned at him, wondering why she hadn’t caught his eye. Kish cleared his throat uncomfortably.
“I’ll see you later.”
She watched them go, the Nephite’s drab clothes contrasting sharply with Kish’s colorful garb. I wonder how he will die, she mused. She herded the sheep to the protected side of the mountain, away from the waters of Sebus. The last batch of servants had been slain because the flocks had been scattered and stolen. She was not about to let that happen to her.
Sariah crouched next to the tent flap, listening to King Lamoni. He had asked if Ammon wanted to live with his people, the Lamanites. Sariah held her breath, forcing her thoughts away from the busy street to the silence in the tent. What would he say? How would he die? She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. Sometimes her morbid fascination was too much for her to handle. It was partly because Lamoni had a new torture method for each Nephite, and there was that calm, cool, completely confident Nephite standing in front of him. I bet he doesn’t even have a kitten’s scratch on his back, she thought savagely.
“I desire to dwell among your people for a time. Perhaps until the day I die.”
Sariah pushed the tent flap open a little more, sharing Lamoni’s astonishment. He wanted to live there? In their jewel of a valley, with the crystalline water flowing from the springs on the mountain?