FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The sun was merciless, glaring down and making the very air seem to boil. The young tarin warrior, still fresh with youth, sighed as she scanned the landscape for any possible scrap of shade in the mostly barren landscape. The old draft horse she rode plodded along slowly, yet his dark coat was still frothy with sweat as if he had been raced at a full gallop. Reaching out, Nadirah gently patted the animal's neck, her hand coming away wet and sticky. "Don't worry, fella, I'll find us some shade eventually. And maybe even some water." While wiping her soiled hand on the worn fur of the saddle, her other reached for the flask at her belt and she took several deep swallows. "Well, for you, anyway." She added before replacing the cork.

When the doe glanced behind her to make sure no one was following, she glimpsed a small sliver of green still visible in the distance. The rest of the valley had been swallowed up by the colorless landscape of the Badlands. She felt only a small pang of regret when she thought about the valley and the knowledge that she would never return to it, but she felt no desire to live among the other tarous any longer. They were not her people, and her only connection to them was gone.

When she turned forward again, she caught sight of another encampment in the distance. It danced frivolously in the heat-distorted air. Curious, the doe steered the horse in the direction of the waving image, but as she came closer she realized that it was another tarous village. She quickly surmised that it was the one Jorthon had mentioned and halted her mount, staring at the village for a long time as she considered approaching it. The guards outside of the gates watched her closely in return, but their wariness was born of caution rather than hostility.

Nadirah was tempted to approach and find relief from the heat so that she could continue her journey come nightfall. She had some coin, stolen like her horse, and could easily stay a night or two at an inn if they had one. She could probably even afford to stable the horse if she bartered a bit. She was certainly old enough that she would not be too closely questioned for wandering the edge of the badlands alone. But another glimpse back at the valley made her uneasy. The village was far too close to what she had left behind, and rumors spread quickly among such tight knit a community. She wondered if word of her had already reached the village before her, word of her misconduct and evil deeds already being whispered into ears hungry for such gruesome news. Would they stare? Would they chase her away? Would they too blame her for Jorthon's death?

Finally the doe's doubts won out and she turned the horse away. Under the merciless watch of the brilliant sun, they continued their trek across the Badlands, giving the village a wide berth as they passed.

There were a few scraggly trees in the badlands, but their small, twisted trunks and bare branches offered very little in the way of shade. What little was cast tended to be taken up by groups of large predators that eyed her and her horse hungrily as they passed. Sometimes enormous black vultures sat in the branches, bowing them under their weight.

As the second sun began rising over the horizon, Nadirah found herself growing just as weary as her mount. The relentless heat made her begin to curse her cowardly decision to avoid the tarous village and cross the barren wastes during the day. In growing desperation, she turned the horse off the caravan trail before releasing the reigns entirely. The horse would either find them shelter and water, or they would both perish.

It felt like forever before the weary stallion's head perked up, his nostrils flaring. He picked up his step, hurrying toward some place still beyond the tarin's sight. After a few more steps, however, Nadirah's nostrils picked up the scent of water, and she saw a faint glimpse of green in the distance. An Oasis! In a few more steps, a thick wall of palm trees seemed to materialize out of the air before the exhausted horse and rider. Tall grass and ferns grew at the trunks of the tree. Colorful flower bloomed from tangles of green vines. Large flying insects darted through the air, landing briefly on broad leaves before taking off again.

At the edge of the oasis, just before the horse could step foot in the lush greenery, there came a loud, angry hiss. Despite its overwhelming thirst, the horse reared, preparing to bolt in fright. Nadirah swiftly grabbed the loose reigns and snapped them back, pulling the animal to a hard halt. A large grayish bird stepped out of the tall grass and hissed again, snapping its beak.

"It's alright, big guy. Just give it a good kick and it'll leave you be." Nadirah said calmly, patting the horse on the neck comfortingly before drawing her sword and urging him back toward the oasis. When the bird gave another angry hiss at their approach, the young tarin reached out and slapped it soundly with the flat of her blade. The bird squawked loudly, startled by the smack, and quickly retreated back into the foliage, allowing them to pass by unchallenged.

The doe nearly leapt from the exhausted horse's back as it broke through the thick wall of green and reached the edge of the water. She hastily removed the animal's saddle and patted his soaked shoulder, his head was already lowered for a long drink. "Take your time, buddy. You deserve a good rest."She spoke softly to the horse, then swiftly shed her own coverings, tossing everything into a pile on top of the fur saddle. Unconcerned about any potential dangers still waiting unseen, she rushed to the edge of the crystalline blue water and dived in.

The water washed over her in cool, refreshing waves. She swam to the bottom of the shallow pool and rested there for a few seconds before pushing herself back to the surface for air. She was so lost in the sensations of the oasis that she never once gave thought to the fact that she might not be alone.

From the shadows of the undergrowth, a cold and calculating gaze followed the young tarin's every move, waiting for an opportunity to strike. When her head went under the water for a second time, a shadow seemed to peel away from the darkness, slowly making its way to the pile of her belongings. Silent and stealthy as a hunting cat, the shadow gathered up everything except the saddle, then deftly leapt onto the back of the exhausted horse. A hard kick to the flanks sent the startled beast dashing wildly into the green, trampling a path away from the oasis and back into the badlands. Once in the sunlight, the shade lost its anonymity exposing itself as a human covered in black clothing.

Nadirah rose up to the surface of the water just in time to hear the startled cry of her stolen mount as it disappeared into the overgrowth. "Hey!" She screamed angrily, hurrying towards shore. "Get back here with my horse!" Once out of the water, it took her no more than a glance to see that more than her mount had been taken. "I will find you!" She screamed furiously, immediately giving chase through the path left by the fleeing horse and without further thought to her missing coverings. The soft sand of the Badlands allowed the stallion's hooves to leave a clear trail of his path. Refreshed by her swim and a dose of adrenaline, Nadirah followed as fast as she could, attempting to catch up to the tired animal.

As he gained distance from the oasis, the cocky thief turned to look back as he heard the young warrior's angry cries. Expecting to see nothing but soil and savannah grass behind him, he nearly fell off of his stolen mount when he saw the furious naked tarin charging after him, rapidly gaining ground as the exhausted horse began to slow. "What the hell..." The thief muttered to himself in irritation. "I might have to kill her after all. I'd really prefer to just- Whoa! Hey!"

The horse came to a hard stop and reared, pawing at the air with its forelegs and throwing its passenger to the ground. The thief was about to curse the animal when he heard a loud, grumbling roar. The horse reared a second time before turning to bolt in a new direction, but it was already too late. Before the stallion could escape, a jet of blue flame engulfed the terrified animal. Nearly paralyzed with fear, the thief looked past the blaze to it's source, spotting a small pod of false dragons. One of the large reptiles was facing the direction of the horse, spitting a trail of fire. As the false dragon's flame died away, the smoking corpse of the horse collapsed to the ground with a thud, causing the near-sighted false dragon to shoot out another jet of blue flame in its direction.

For several seconds, the thief was paralyzed by shock, his body as still as iron as he stared at the giant reptile. The false dragon sniffed at the air, its massive scaly head still turned in the thief's direction. The frilled fin that ran down the false dragon's back flipped upright and the beast hissed furiously, but when nothing moved, it turned away and climbed onto a nearby rock formation to continue sunning itself.

Once the attention of the monster was averted, the would-be thief's fearful paralysis was finally broken. He scrambled to his feet and turned to run away before he too caught the giant reptile's attention. Unfortunately, he immediately slammed into something large blocking his path, the blow knocked him back to the ground. Surprised, he looked up into the angry face of the nude tarin doe, her fur still dripping wet despite her pursuit through the heat of the dual suns.

Without a word, the doe bent down and snatched up the thief by the front of his tunic, lifting him up to eye-level. "That wasn't very smart." She snarled in a soft, deadly voice. The thief pointed behind her at the false dragon, which had climbed down from its rock and was already preparing to release another jet of blue fire at the invaders to its territory. Nadirah glanced briefly at the reptile, then reached for the thief's belt, grabbing a pair of his throwing knives before slinging them at the animal. "No one invited you to this party! Go away!" One struck in the reptile's gaping mouth, stabbing into its throat while the other struck its right eye. The false dragon gave a strangled cry of pain and shook its head from side to side, raising one leg to claw at the daggers sticking out of its face. The intruders forgotten, the wounded false dragon turned away, spending its final moments trying to expel the knife in its throat as it choked on its own blood.

"Now then, I can finally deal with-" Nadirah said as she turned back to the thief, only to find that she clung to an empty shirt. A small barebacked figure was running away across the sand. "This is getting tiresome!" She called out, tossing the discarded tunic and giving pursuit. "The more you piss me off the more painful your death will be when I finally catch you!"

Despite the tarin's speed, the fleeing thief kept getting farther and farther away, and with his head start, quickly manged to put a good distance between them. With no further patience, Nadirah stopped running and grabbed a large, sun bleached bone half-buried in the soft sand. Taking careful aim, she put all of her strength into throwing it at the fleeing form.

The bone spun several times in the air before slamming between the thief's shoulder blades, knocking him to the ground. Before he could get back up to his feet, the warrior was already there, one of her large hooves landing hard on his back and pinning him in place. "I've been having a very bad week," Nadirah growled furiously, leaning more of her weight against her hoof as she bent over, grabbing the thief by the back of his neck. "And you just made it worse by killing my horse and running. So this is going to hurt quite a lot."

"Wait!" Came a panicked cry from the thief. "I-I'm sorry about the horse! It was an accident! Really! I can replace it! Honest I can!"

Nadirah paused, considering the offer a moment before she removed her hoof from his back and lifted him up by his neck. "Yes." She finally replied in her usual soft voice. "Yes, I think you _will_replace my horse. As well as everything else of mine that your stupid little stunt has cost me. _Then_I will kill you."

The thief offered no comment as he dangled in the air, the tarin's thick fingers pressing tightly into the flesh of his neck. His legs kicked out helplessly and his hands pulled at her fingers, but nothing he did could loosen her grip. Nadirah opened her mouth to say more when she noticed that something was wrong, but not quite able to pinpoint what it was. It took her several seconds before she began to understand what had caught her attention.

Beneath her fingers, the thief's flesh was cold and hard, rather than hot and supple. His wrinkled skin was so pale it was nearly grey. What she had first taken to be odd tattoos were actually tears in his skin, exposing yellowed bones an internal organs to her curious eyes. "What the..." She finally said, and the creature in her grasp stopped struggling. "What the hell _are_you?!"

The pale figure let out a high, keening laugh, full of bitterness and madness. "I am forsaken."

Bound hand and foot, the undead man glared angrily at the tarin who sat a short distance away. The pair had made for quite a spectacle when they had entered the small trading post; the tarin still nude but for a soot-covered sword belted at her waist and carrying the undead man over her shoulder, wrapped tightly in the skin of the false dragon. She had then sold the pelt to buy new clothes and pay for a room at the inn, which also doubled as a tavern. At no point in time had the thief been allowed out of her sight or easy reach, the doe ignoring the odd looks and questioning murmurs of the other traders.

Once inside the rented room, the thief had been secured to the bed with a leash made of braided sinew, his wrists and ankles already bound to each other. Once sure her captive was not going anywhere, Nadirah had disappeared for a few minutes. When she finally returned, she was carrying several bottles of the inn's cheap wine. She fell easily into the chair by the foot of the bed, where she stared at the undead man intently as she drank. "I never did think to ask." She finally spoke up, tipping the glass bottle to take a deep swallow of its contents. "What's your name?"

The thief gave a derisive snort before he answered. "Why do you care?" He replied with a snarl, his voice gravelly and deep. "So you can carve it on my grave-marker?"

Nadirah regarded him coldly for several seconds before shrugging and taking another swallow of her drink. "I don't know why you think you're worth the effort of a grave, never mind something to mark it with." She finally replied, making the thief cringe. "I don't particularly care, to be honest. Just curious." Tipping the bottle again, she swallowed the last of the cheap wine and lapped at the few drops lingering at the lip of the bottle. Once it could offer her no more, she tossed it casually over her shoulder, letting it shatter against the bare wooden floor, then turned her attention back to the nervous-looking undead.

"Why did you do that?" He asked anxiously, flicking his eyes in the direction that she had thrown the bottle even though he couldn't see it's shattered remains from where he lay.

"You seem to ask a lot of stupid questions." Nadirah intoned before rising to her feet. The undead thief immediately began to shrink as far away as his bindings would allow. "Oh calm down. I already said I wasn't going to kill you until after you replace my horse. And everything else that I lost as well."

"Well, that's something to look forward to."The thief grumbled softly, relaxing only a little as he continued to glare at the doe with a mixture of anger and uncertainty.

"Why did you steal him, anyway?" Nadirah continued as if she didn't hear him. "He was just a broken down old work horse. What do you have against me that you would take him and my possessions just to destroy them all?"

"Now who's asking the stupid questions?" The undead man snapped back bitterly, clipping the end of each word. His cracked lips pulled back to reveal shriveled black gums and rotting yellow teeth.

"Ok, I deserved that." Nadirah conceded with a shrug, still holding his furious gaze.

"You deserve more than that, you talking steak!" The thief spat, his voice nearly a yell and his face contorting in his anger as his courage increased. "I've never met you before! I don't know who you are besides some stupid cow who wandered past me and then stupidly left all her things unguarded while she went for a swim! And what are you even going to do if I _don't_replace your stupid felking horse anyway? I can vanish any time I want, and you'll have a hard time getting anything from someone you can't find!"

"Hm, that's a very good point." Nadirah replied thoughtfully, studying her bound captive closely. After a moment she reached for her sword and approached the bed. "But I can fix that easily enough."

"Wait! What are you doing? What the hell are you doing?!" The thief screamed, fighting against his binds while trying to roll himself off the bed. "What the felk are you doing with that sword?!"

"If I cut your legs off, that should keep you from running away on me." Nadirah replied coldly, drawing her sword. "Should also make carrying you around a bit easier. You're already dead, right? This certainly won't kill you." Placing a hand against the undead man's bare chest to hold him in place, she began to raise the sword over her head, pausing only to decide if she should bring the blade down above or below the knee.

"No! Don't!" The thief screamed in terror. "Please don't! I won't go anywhere! I swear it! I'll replace your horse! Hell, you can even saddle _me_up if you want! Just please don't!" As the sword swiftly began to descend, he panicked, trying to move his legs out of the way but they were unable to bend them more than a little in either direction. "How am I going to earn the gold I need if you disable me?!" He cried out desperately.

The blade halted suddenly, the cloth of the thief's pants parting to either side of the sharp blade and exposing a small patch of grey, unmarked skin."Good point." She said softly, then leaned back, removing her hand from his chest to return her sword to its sheath. "That would just make more work for me wouldn't it."

The thief stared at her in disbelief for several long and silent seconds before his face once again contorted into a snarl of rage. "You stupid felking walking hamburger!" He screamed, writhing once more against his bonds. "Don't you EVER felking do that again! Do you hear me? I swear when I get loose from here I'm going to-...I'm going to...." His temper tapered off as the doe turned to set down her sword, then turned her attention back to captive. The thief made a loud swallowing sound and began to cringe again, finding the tarin somehow even more deadly without her weapon. "I mean... I mean..."

"Shut up." Nadirah commanded flatly. "I know exactly what you mean." Slowly she reached out, a single finger extending to touch the jagged flesh at the edge of an open wound. The thief froze at her touch as if expecting to be beaten for the slightest infraction, and yet the doe's touch remained light and feathery along the ragged edge of cold flesh. "Does this hurt? Having your skin ripped wide open like this?" She asked patiently, her eyes following the trail of her fingertip.

The undead man's eyes narrowed suspiciously and he regarded her for a while before he answered. "No, not really. I don't feel much of anything anymore, actually. Pleasure, pain, hot, cold, it's all the same to me these days. Why do you ask?"

"Simply curious." Nadirah replied softly, continuing to trace the open wound with the tip of her finger. "I've never met anyone who was alive and yet not at the same time." With the same delicate motions, her exploring finger slipped around to caress a rib bone, pock-marked and dirty from its long exposure. "What are you really? Why are you like this?"

"You really don't know?" The thief blinked in slight confusion. "I'm a ghoul, you ugly heifer! I was a man once, before Malthamus came into his power. Decided he needed an army of undead to fulfill his every whim. But now I'm a cursed ghoul. You've heard of Malthamus at least, haven't you?"

Nadirah shook her head no, her finger still continuing its gentle explorations. "This is the first I've heard his name. Who is he?"

"May the gods preserve me! Are you serious?!" He spat angrily. "Malthamus is the king of the undead! Has a whole stolen kingdom set up all to himself and keeps expanding his borders! His army has taken out more than one cow town. How can you not know about this?"

"I've been busy." She replied simply, her finger sliding from the bone and back to his cold grey skin, her other two fingers uncurling to stroke it slowly.

"How long are you going to do that, anyway?" He demanded irritably. "What do you want from me?"

"Until I get bored." She said softly, ignoring his second question as her fingers began to swirl in wider and wider circles around the wound. The thief inhaled sharply, letting out his breath in a ragged pant before closing his eyes. Nadirah seemed to give him no notice but continued her unhurried examination, her touch remaining light and her gaze inquisitive. "How long have you been a ghoul?" She finally asked, her fingers tracing the rest of his ribs through their thin covering of leathery skin.

The thief did not open his eyes and his voice was slow and reluctant. "Long... long time... Before your mother... learned to walk... I'm willing to bet." His breath continued to speed up, coming in soft pants before he finally opened his eyes and glared at his captor, struggling uselessly against his bonds again. "Stop! Stop that! Quit touching me you walking steak! I swear when I get loose I'll-"

"Shut up." The command was spoken softly, almost a whisper, her voice flat and unemotional, but the ghoul silenced himself immediately. He had already seen how little he was worth to her and he did not want a second demonstration. He might not be able to stop her again. Nadirah's hand continued its curious wandering slowly up his bare chest and along the base of his slender, wrinkled throat before moving to his shoulder and down his arm to the point where the flesh ended in jagged tears to expose the jointed bones of his elbow. The rest of his arm and hand was still held tightly behind his back.

Fascinated by the undead man, Nadirah rested her other hand on the edge of the bed, supporting herself as she leaned over him, her other fingers gently stroking the dull bones of his arm. She lowered her head slowly until her nose was almost pressed to his skin, nostrils flaring as she first took a cautious sniff, then a long inhaling of his scent. She pondered it a moment, her warm breath blowing softly across his skin while her fingers continued to explore the exposed bones at the joint of his elbow. "You smell... of deep soil. Grave soil."

The thief gulped audibly and raised his head, meeting the tarin's haunting gaze. Her amber eyes looked deeply into his as her nostrils widened again, filling once more with the scent of damp earth. "Is... um.... That a bad thing?" He asked breathlessly, almost expecting to hear the pounding of his long-stilled heart fill his ears.

"No." She replied softly, her hot breath again washing across his cold skin, warming it slightly with every exhale. With the warmth came a revival of sensation to his magically reanimated flesh, causing him to shiver. "I think I like it."

"Gods preserve me!" He whimpered softly, nearly screaming as he watched her inquisitive tongue dart out from between her lips, drawing a short line across his sternum. "How... how are you doing this?!"

The young tarin was silent a moment as thoughts formed and coalesced in her mind. Finally she pushed herself to her feet, looking around the room. "I'll need some more wine. Or something stronger." She muttered to herself softly.

"W-what do you need that for?" The ghoul asked nervously, his body beginning to tremble in fear. The newly awakened sensations of his body were slow to fade, in fact they were spreading, making her unpredictability and violent nature even more problematic than before. "What are you doing? You said you weren't going to kill me yet!"

As Nadirah turned her attention to her bound captive she smiled, but the smile quickly twisted into a malicious grin, her eyes sparkling with planned mischievity. "Maybe I've changed my mind." Came her softly spoken reply. "Or maybe I haven't. Maybe I plan to make you wish I had. Or maybe..." Her grin widened, baring her large teeth. "I am simply curious and wish to be... satisfied."

She giggled softly as she turned away, a mad sound that chilled the ghoul to his very core and making him feel as though his very bones had turned to ice. Without saying anything further, she turned away walked out of the room, broken glass crunching loudly under her hooves.

As soon as the door to the rented room closed, the ghoul began rocking back and forth, thrashing almost violently as he tried to work his bound body off of the bed. He didn't have much time before she would return, and there was no telling what manner of torment she had in mind. He finally collapsed to the floor with a loud thunk, making him cringe as he felt the impact. After so long without feeling anything, he wasn't used to this reminder of pain. It would slow him down, cost him precious seconds.

Trying his best to put the phantom pain out of his mind, he rolled onto his stomach, wriggling back and forth across the floor until he was free of the leash, then slowly inching his way forward. After only a few feet, his chest felt raw and sore, forcing him to take more care and exaggerate his movements, only allowing the parts of his body that were still numb to slide across the rough floor boards. Avoiding the strewn pieces of broken glass was yet another challenge that cost him precious time.

When he finally reached the door, he carefully worked himself up onto his knees, fingers fumbling with the braided sinew holding them bound. He had almost managed to get himself loose when the door swung open and a cloven hoof struck the center of his chest, sending him flying backwards again, skidding along the floor for several inches before he came to a stop.

Disoriented, the ghoul had barely regained his bearings when felt the pressure of the doe's hoof on his shoulder to pin him down. "You can't leave now!" He heard her exclaim, and looked up to see her standing over him with another glass bottle in her hand. "That would ruin my fun!" Removing her hoof, Nadirah reached down and lifted the undead man by the arm, tossing him back onto the straw mattress of the bed as easily as a rag doll.

She followed a moment later, taking several deep swallows from the bottle as she kneeled on the bed, her knees resting to either side of the ghoul's small body. "You'll have to bear with me," She said as the bottle was finally lowered from her lips. "I'm afraid I've never done this before, but I know the basics."

"B-basics?" The ghoul stuttered in growing terror, expecting to be snapped like a dry twig by the powerful tarin hovering over him. "Basics of what?"

"I don't know how much fun this will be." She continued, ignoring his question. "But it should certainly be interesting." The ghoul began to quiver in fear as various torments ran through his mind. Was she planning to dissect him like some strange and interesting kind of bug? Was she going to crush him under her large hooves? Did she change her mind about cutting off his legs to prevent him from escaping?

After taking a final swallow from the bottle, Nadirah set it on the floor, leaving her hands free. Her grin widened as she took in the undead man's growing terror. She leaned down until her mouth was almost close enough to touch his ear. "Are you afraid of me?" She whispered softly, her voice a silken purr with an undertone of malice. "Are you afraid of what I'm going to do?" Her hands moved to his leather belt, unbuckling it swiftly and pulling it free of his waist with a swift jerk. She sat back up, letting the belt dangle and writhe like a live serpent from her upraised hand. "Are you going to beg me for mercy?" Suddenly her hand jerked downward and the belt snapped across the wood of the bed frame with a loud crack, sending several small splinters into the air. "Do it!" She demanded furiously. "Beg me, you worthless waste of flesh! Beg me to spare you!"

The belt cracked again, but across the ghoul's legs, the stiffened leather bringing a sharp pain to his previously numb skin and causing him to cry out. "Please!" He pleaded. "Please! I'll do whatever you want! Anything! Just... please! Spare me!" He cringed as the belt was raised again. "Don't! Don't hurt me!"

Nadirah let the dangling belt slip from her fingers and fall to the floor with a dull thump. Her hand lowered to rest against the cold cheek of the ghoul, which began to warm immediately as it leeched her heat. Her grin softened into a pleased smile that was somehow even more frightening. "Don't hurt you?" She said softly. "I promise nothing. But please continue to beg. Your fear excites me." Without waiting for a response, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, forcing open his slack jaw so that her tongue could enter his mouth, which was just as cold and unwelcoming as the rest of his body.

At first the ghoul could not respond, trapped in the coils of fear and confusion as he tried desperately to understand what was happening. She was insane, that had been obvious from the first, but her actions seemed to exceed even his expectations of her madness. What manner or torment was she planning? Was this some prelude to a coming torture? Was she already knowledgeable about what she was doing to his body and wanted to ensure that he felt the pain she planned to inflict upon him?

Soon, however, his fear began to ease and memories he had thought long lost began to surface in his mind. Closing his eyes, he let his conscious thoughts settle and responded to the growing sensations that were returning to his body. Pursing his lips against those of the tarin and sealing their mouths, he began to press back against her curious tongue.

Nadirah murmured her approval, her hand sliding from his cheek to the side of his neck, caressing the skin inquisitively. Finally she sat back up, giving his lips a playful flick with her tongue as she pulled away. "That's the spirit!" She praised cheerfully. "Maybe this will be fun after all." As she began to lean down again, her captive raised his head slightly, lips already parting in preparation, but instead her mouth went to his throat, nuzzling gently before parting her lips to allow her teeth to nibble gently at the stiff folds of loose skin.

"Gods preserve me!" The ghoul cried out, feeling himself begin to shiver. "What is this magic you possess?! What are you doing to me?!"

Ignoring his question, Nadirah began to move her head lower, velvet lips passing slowly along the bend of his neck leading to his shoulder, teeth first grazing, then biting into the slowly warming skin, allowing her tongue to slide across the raised ridge of his collarbone and draw slow lines across his bare chest, shirt long ago abandoned to the badlands.

Finally she raised herself up, immediately reaching for the new bottle that she had brought with her and tipping it to her mouth, emptying the bottle with several loud swallows. "I really wish I had something stronger." She complained as the empty bottle was lowered and set on the floor. Her attention then turned back to the nervous ghoul, who looked up at her with a mixture of hopeful longing and fear.

Amused, the tarin smirked at her captive, then looked down at herself. "I guess it'll have to do." She muttered softly before grabbing the bottom of her shirt and slipping it over her head. Her trousers took slightly longer to remove, catching on her cloven hooves before she was able to kick them off entirely. The ghoul's eyes widened in shocked surprise as he watched her disrobe, struck speechless at the growing absurdity of his captivity.

"Now then..." Nadirah said as she turned back to face the bed, her tail swaying slowly behind her. "Let's see what trouble we can get into."

A pale moon stared like an unblinking eye through the window of the small room. It cast a soft glow across the pair of motionless figures laying tangled across the straw mattress. One of the figures was awake, milky eyes staring blankly at the bare wood of the ceiling. Finally, the ghoul gave a weary sigh and looked at the sleeping tarin.

The night was rapidly approaching its darkest hour, the best time to make his escape. With a few quick, practiced movements, he slipped the loosened coils of rope from around his wrists, then slowly and carefully untangled himself from the doe before sliding quietly to the floor. Using a piece of shattered glass, he made quick work of the cord binding his legs, thankful that they had not been cut off, and rose silently to his feet. Just as he was about to head for the door, however, something stopped him.

He looked over his shoulder at the young tarin, still fast asleep and stretched out across the crude bed. He was almost tempted to return to her as he felt the rapid cooling of his tortured flesh, bringing back the unfeeling numbness he had become so used to after his magical reanimation. It had been so long since anyone but other ghouls had touched him, or even looked at him without fear or disgust. But the memory of her unpredictable madness reminded him of why that would not be wise.

With a sigh, he turned his head to look back at the door, his freedom so close. The night was calling to him, but his business with the tarin was not yet over. Whether it had been intended or not, she had done him a great favor, and the least he could do was to repay it. And it really had been his fault that she had lost her horse, after all. A slow grin spread across the ghoul's face as he turned back to the bed and its soundly sleeping occupant.