It wasn't all that dark inside the pod; light filtered through the sides of it, enough for Seras to see she around her quite well... like when she was inside one of the clan's tents: dim, but not dark.  In fact, it was brighter in this case, and she could see the women casting shadows on the edge of the plant as they moved outside.<br/><br/>Trisha's voice came back through the side, muffled but understandable.  "A man!  Damn, lucky he wasn't the<span style="font-style: italic">first</span>caught, huh?  Hang on in there, we'll get you both out.  But we have to replace our spears... they snapped most of 'em.  Don't you worry though, you've got a few weeks fer sure before the plant is done with the first gal... you'll be out by then."  She laughed, but it didn't sound like she meant to wait very long, certainly not a day or a week.  She just liked to tease those that couldn't defend themselves.<br/><br/>In the greenish light, Seras could see the man clearly enough.  For some reason, the name<span style="font-style: italic">Marcus</span>came to her, though she couldn't tell if it was a memory or a random guess.  He wasn't very tall, about 5'8", but that still made him two inches taller than she was, and he was certainly larger than her.  Brown eyes gazed at her as she slid her hand through his hair, and with every passing moment she saw more awareness returning to him.  Waking alone in dimness hadn't been good for his mind, but hearing speech and seeing her was reviving instincts if not exactly memories.<br/><br/>He blinked at her, seeming a bit confused by her pawing, but after a few seconds he imitated her.  He touched her red hair and her ponytail curiously, and he started smiling.  "Me... I... okay," he managed, probably the first words he'd managed since his return to relative sanity.  He looked around, seeming calm now as he understood that he was going to be rescued; his gaze slid over passed her, then stopped, came back, and slid down her length and into the ooze they were both standing in up to their hips.<br/><br/>"Oh," he managed, a thought apparently suddenly occurring to him.  "You here... good.  Is good."  He took her hands, seemingly gently, but within seconds he was gripping her wrists instead.  While he wasn't being rough, he was starting to push her wrists back against the edge of the pitcher, to both sides of her head... and sticking straight out at the surface of the ooze, his suddenly stiffened manhood made it quite clear what he now had in mind.