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Introduction

On the outskirts of a small town named Greenby, Harlow and his father Brodil lived alone in their small house on his father's farm. His mother Dinaya sadly passed away a year after Harlow's birth during delivery of his younger sibling. This happened before Harlow could remember anything, so while the loss of his mother and sibling saddened him greatly, he was free from any actual memories of her. Now Harlow and his father were the only occupants of their small house and life there was rough.

The farm, which had prospered in the past due to Brodil's hard work, sat in a state of disrepair from many years of abandonment. Brodil's attempts to dull the loss of his wife and child led him to drinking and other such forms of self-harming behavior. Crops failed, animals died or were sold to pay for his addictions, and the general state of the buildings degraded.

Harlow had his own room, which he liked to keep clean and orderly. He didn't have a lot of things, but collected a few books. His father didn't have the money to send Harlow to school, so the knowledge he came across was solely from the books he found or had been given.

The main source of his learning had come from working odd jobs around town for the people of Greenby. Brodil had the tendency to be missing or passed out drunk when morning arrived, so Harlow had taken to walking the couple miles to town each day to see if he could earn some money to buy a meal.

Most days he was successful and would feast on bread and cheese, occasionally some meat, from one of the lower end taverns in town. This routine had introduced him to many people and most treated him kindly. Some even fed him or taught him a little of their craft.

As he grew older and more capable of handling larger tasks, the people of the town began using him more and trading his employment in turn. He began learning skills and crafts from several different people in hopes he would find one in which he had a greater talent than the others.

He was decent at working with clay, the pots and bowls he fired were not up to the standard of the potter, but still usable. His construction skills were not quite as good. He could measure and fit wood well, but didn't have the strength to swing a hammer decently or carry loads of wood around.

Harlow had the opportunity to try his hand at baking, but try as he might, his baked goods always tasted sour or burnt. Mrs. Boffoli tried her best to make his bread seem edible, but in the end she let him go with her apologies.

It was while he was doing some menial tasks at the lumber mill, the owners told him his talents lied not in the physical area, but with developing his mind. Niko and Neko Poldare were identical twins, and Harlow had a difficult time telling the two apart. They ran the lumber mill, but were also some of the smartest people in town.

They were integral in finding him jobs where he could use his brain more than his brawn, or lack thereof. They first introduced him to the town treasurer where he learned his numbers and showed great talent. Due to the lack of activity and general boredom of the job, he left to pursue another opportunity as soon as one offered itself up.

During the next few years, Harlow moved from job to job, learning things about many trades. In this fashion, Harlow gained skills and knowledge as well as enamored himself to the people of Greenby. It was the Poldare twins who assisted him multiple times with introductions to people, including their younger sister Mika who he held a secret crush for.

At fifteen years of age, Harlow tried his hand at rune crafting. His skill at creating the runes was excellent, but he couldn't find the correct way to manipulate the energies around to activate the rune. "I'm sorry Harlow." Mr. Grennera told him, "If you can't get the runes to power up there's no point in keeping you here any longer." With those words, Harlow made his way home. He hoped the twins knew of someone else who might need an apprentice and planned on visiting them in the morning.

When Harlow arrived at the lumber mill the day after being let go by Mr. Grennera, he found Neko had been injured the previous day. Niko was there at his brother's bedside, holding on to his twin's hand. Mika was in a chair near the foot of Neko's bed asleep. Harlow had heard a low voice call him in when he had knocked on the door, and the owner of the voice now stood over Neko administering to the injured young man.

The man was the town physician and he rubbed a salve of some sort into the skin on top of Neko's head where he had been hit by a piece of wood. "This salve will dull the pain, but it's up to him when he wakes up. Brain injuries can be tricky, but his eyes react to light and his breathing is stable. This usually means the swelling will recede and he'll make a full recovery." The physician told Niko.

Niko looked to Harlow who stood dumbfounded. This was something he had no experience with. He had experienced injuries before, but nothing requiring a physician. He was also not a part of this family, just an acquaintance hoping they would help him again.

"I, I am sorry Niko. Is there anything I can do?" Harlow asked in a squeaky whisper.

"Harlow. Thank you, but without Neko, the mill is closed for now." Niko told Harlow calmly. "Once he wakes up I am sure we'll have some work for you."

Harlow nodded solemnly and turned to leave the house. "You're looking for some work?" The physician's deep voice asked before he could leave. "Can you count and carry this bag?"

Harlow rotated his head back to see a large black bag which the big man held easily in one hand. "I can count." He said. "I think I can carry the bag too."

"Then I have a proposition. I need someone to fetch things for me. You'd carry this bag, learn where my different supplies are, and take orders when I need things. Are you interested?" The physician asked.

Harlow needed the money and the job sounded easy enough, so he told the physician "Yes." The next couple years of his life began with that simple word. At the moment it meant only a new job and learning some new skills. He had no idea how important that moment would actually become to him.

Chapter 1

The town of Greenby didn't have many people in it. The mayor, Mr. Ansong had taken Harlow around the town one week when he was younger, and they counted each person, asking them simple questions about they're family and income. Mr Ansong called it a census and told Harlow it was the Mayor's responsibility to take the census every two years. He sent the results to the King for taxation purposes.

At that time, there had been one hundred and forty seven people, including him and the Mayor. In the following year, a new family had moved in which brang the total up to one hundred fifty.

The towns' population was shortly going to decrease by one though. The elderly yet always friendly Mrs. Halan Elennesta, or Granny as she preferred people to call her, laid deathly sick in her bed. Harlow was currently employed as a fetcher for the town physician Lennard Haramin. So as part of his job, he was to stand by and watch as Mr. Haramin did what little he could to ease the suffering of the kindly woman.

Granny was well beyond being healed. Her body had finally given up, all that was left for Mr. Haramin to do was to comfort her until the end. He sat and stroked Granny's hair back from her sweat covered face. He whispered to her of times past and how the people here would continue on but always remember her. Tears ran down his cheeks and gentle sobs jumped in his chest.

Harlow secretly wished the physician would tell him to go fetch something, but in his heart he knew the time for fetching was over, all that could be done now was to make her as comfortable as possible. The tincture of Elena flower and Greywood bark allowed her to sleep while the sprig of Wenetta under Granny's tongue eased her pain.

So it had been going all morning. Mr Haramin and Harlow sat and waited for the end. The time moved slowly and neither of them felt much like talking. The occasional crackle from the fireplace startling them from their thoughts. Finally just before midday her breathing grew more ragged and shallow, then stopped completely. Mr. Haramin laid a finger on Granny's neck to check for a heartbeat. When he felt none, he laid her hands across her chest and pulled the covering up over her head.

This was the first time Harlow had been around to watch someone die. He understood what death meant, but to witness it first hand was something entirely different. He had been employed by Mr. Haramin now going on two and a half years and had assisted him in many different procedures. He knew how to set bones, apply poultices, even mix rudimentary healing potions, but when the end came there wasn't anything a physician could do but be there for the patient.

This was a hard lesson to teach, and an even harder one to learn. Mr. Haramin had known for several days now about granny's declining health and had told Harlow he would need to be with him when death finally took her. He hadn't understood why back then, but now as he watched the elderly woman take her final breaths and the tears run freely down Mr. Haramin's face he understood.

This was part of being a physician. The wondrous things which a physician could do to heal and save people's lives eventually ended with their helplessness at the end of life. All of the care given, all of the years of knowing a person and their ailments, all of the memories and knowledge gained from the patient; all amounted to their eventual death.

A short but strong arm reached out to Harlow, the hand gently beckoning him forward. He accepted the invitation and stepped into the physician's embrace, burying his head within the gentle man's chest and sobbing openly.

He and the physician had a simple but good relationship. Mr. Haramin was in charge, and Harlow did as he was told. In return, Harlow earned some money and was learning to be a physician. He would be able to get a good recommendation from Mr. Haramin when the time came for him to seek proper education, and that meant a great deal.

For Mr. Haramin it meant having someone near him, sometime to talk to. It allowed him to retrieve things faster which meant he could heal people better. He also gained a sounding board and someone to listen to him. He was a lonely man, never mated, and enjoyed the boy's company.

Harlow often wished his mentor were his father rather than the drunk semi-abusive man who owned the small house where he lived. He returned home nightly, but left early each morning. He spent as little time as possible there. When he did encounter his father, he often wound up taking care of him. The other possibility was somewhat worse, he would be forced to watch him break down and blubber about the past and his dead wife.

Mr. Haramin spoke to Harlow through his own sobs. "Yes Harlow, it's better to let these emotions out." Mr Haramin croaked. His tears hit the top of Harlow's head, wetting the hair there. "Death is a part of life, but those who remain to live on are the ones who have to deal with the pain."

Harlow nodded in acknowledgement but didn't trust his voice to work. He rarely saw his mentor display emotions; he had told Harlow early on, "Emotions can cause mistakes, mistakes can cause harm." Harlow had tried his best to understand and temper his emotions as Mr. Haramin did. Now though, to see and feel this man's emotions manifest so strongly was heart wrenching. Harlow knew his mentor's emotions never truly went away. They stayed bottled inside until an appropriate time to be released.

The circumstances were correct now, and Harlow let go of all the pent up emotions built up inside him. He sobbed for the loss of this kind woman, and the release of these emotions allowed the frustration and anger he locked away to manifest in his tears as well.

The two sobbed for their friend for several minutes, the catharsis of openly crying, especially with someone trusted who could share in the ugliness and raw display of emotions brought the two closer.

At the end, snot and tears stained each other's clothes and fur. Mr Haramin wiped his face clean with a rag he held inside his robe. The act was a symbol to both himself and to Harlow, the time for emotions was ending and the time for work was renewing.

Before Mr. Haramin could find another handkerchief to offer him, Harlow had sniffled and wiped his nose on his forearm. He knew this wasn't sanitary, but couldn't find anywhere better to clean his nose off. Mr. Haramin watched as the young man smeared snot down his arm and dabbed at his nose with his sleeve. The sight brought a smile to the physician's mouth. "I think we will both need a bath after this to wash off the boogers." He chuckled.

Harlow felt his chest heave with it's own small bit of laughter, Harlow realized the sensation felt an awfully lot like sobbing. He still didn't trust himself to speak though, instead he began gathering up the instruments and vials the physician had used, returning them to their spot in his large black medicine bag.

Mr. Haramin stood up and nodded at Harlow in appreciation. He brushed off the front of his clothes, trying to remove some of the wetness and wrinkles then turned to the door. "Once you have everything gathered, take the bag back to the clinic and draw up a bath. I'll be there shortly." His face returned to it's normal emotionless facade.

"Y... yes sir. Harlow was finally able to stammer out. He watched as the physician went outside and began speaking with the townsfolk gathered there. Harlow finished packing the bag and hefted it over his shoulder. He wasted no time exiting the house and avoiding the other people. His nerves were still raw, he needed to be alone to sort out his feelings.

He left jogging towards the clinic, arriving only a few minutes later, and placed the heavy medicine bag on the table in the examination room. The clinic consisted of four rooms. The examination room where he was, had an elevated bed where the patient could be seen. It also had several tables near, where instruments and potions could be quickly accessed for treatment. Along the back wall was a repository of different vials, ointments, tinctures, plants and magical tools. This is where the actual medicine happened.

Upon entering the clinic there is a waiting room with a couch where family members or friends could sit while Mr. Haramin did his work. The third room was a recovery room with a larger and softer bed as well as multiple hanging vines and potted plants. The plants were all used in the formulation of different alchemical concoctions. When placed together in the recovery room, their aromas intermingled, causing a significant increase to restfulness and healing of the patient.

The last room was the laboratory. This is where Mr Haramin concocted his treatments, sterilized his tools, and performed experiments. Harlow felt most at home in this room, it held within it a large library of books. He was often encouraged to study while Mr. Haramin attended to other things, which Harlow didn't mind in the slightest.

After depositing the bag on the table, Harlow exited the clinic and walked over to Mr. Haramin's house which was only a few steps away and behind the clinic. The physician allowed Harlow access to anything and everything in his residence, so he had no problem entering the house and making his way to the bathroom.

The house was small, consisting only of a bedroom, a common room with a cooking area, and a bathroom. The bathroom was large though. It easily took up half the house. Mr. Haramin enjoyed his time in here. He filled this room with plants similar to the recovery room of the clinic. The plants in this room were of different varieties though.

The plants in the recovery room generally needed less water, which is why they were perfect for the recovery room. The plants in here were the opposite. They loved a humid environment. They ranged from vines which stretched themselves along the walls to broad-leaved small trees. It was sometimes an obstacle course to navigate through. Harlow called this room the jungle. As soon as a person entered, the aromas and auras given off by the plants fostered a sense of relaxation and security. It felt as if the world outside melted away.

Harlow wound his way through the plants and reached the tub. It was oval, larger on the sides than the ends. The spigots were placed on the closest side so you could fill the tub without having to enter it. The tub itself was made of polished and treated Martle wood. The wood itself being of a light brown color, but this specimen was striated with darker browns as well, causing a wavy pattern to emerge. It was striking next to the dark ochre Bludwood framework and shelving.

Harlow turned the nozzles and activated the warming rune. He turned it clockwise almost a full turn so the water would be extra hot. He wasn't sure how long Mr. Haramin would take before getting here, but he knew the man preferred a nice hot bath. The plants in the room enjoyed the steam as well. He watched the tub fill slowly, the steam rolling off the surface of the water. The grain in the wood appeared to sway along with the water itself. The sight and smells were hypnotic.

The water looked too inviting so Harlow disrobed and crawled into the tub himself. Mr. Haramin encouraged him to bathe frequently, so didn't think he would mind if he bathed first. If he was concerned about dirty water, he would fill the tub again.

He laid back and let the hot water soak into his skin. His brain raced with all he had seen and felt today. The hot soothing water acting as a balm on his raw nerves. He closed his eyes and images of Granny flitted through his mind. She always seemed to have a bit of Segoon candy with her, which she gleefully dispensed to anyone who was interested. The sweet citric flavor seemed to fill his mouth as he lay there and allowed himself to melt away.

Which is why Harlow was so startled when he heard Mr. Haramin ask. "Do you mind if I join you?"

Being abruptly awakened along with the strangeness of the question, Harlow automatically responded. "Yeah, of course."

A disrobed man, mentor, and employer, calmly dipped his paw into the now lukewarm water. "Oh, this needs to be hotter. I guess you've been in here a while."

"Y...yes sir. I, I guess I must have fallen asleep." Harlow heard himself say then watched as the naked man spun the nozzles to the right and the hot water began to flow out.

Mr. Haramin was not a small person, even compared to the other men of the town. His stomach extended out more than normal, but his shoulders and chest compensated for it. His height was less than normal though, which gave him a squat and powerful look. Harlow had never seen his mentor's large legs before, but the muscles there bulged out completing the circular look to the man.

"You have white patches." Harlow said without thinking. His eyes were glued to the top of Mr Haramin's thighs where a patch of white began and extended a few inches down the leg on each side. He realized where he was looking and what hung in between and he quickly looked away, a hot feeling entering his cheeks.

Mr. Haramin chuckled and said, "Yeah, only spots on me. Not many people get to see them though."

Harlow, still red with embarrassment glanced up to meet Mr. Haramin's eyes and saw the large impish smile on his face, his dark lips emphasizing the whitening of his fur around his muzzle. A single fang stuck up from the side of his mouth. He spoke again, "And you. A spot on your stomach to match the mask. Very nice."

Mr. Haramin was referencing the patch of white fur encompassing Harlow's stomach as well as the circles of white around his eyes. The rest of his body was covered in a light tan fur. Nothing really out of the ordinary, but he was one of only people in the area with his coloring.

"Uh... thanks." Harlow managed to mumble.

Mr Haramin proceeded to step into the tub, lowering himself down into the water. His bluish gray fur turned darker where the water covered it. A water illusion, Harlow surmised. The older man reached below the water and removed the drain stopper, letting the lukewarm water drain to make room for the new hot water pouring from the spigot.

Mr Haramin swished his arms back and forth to circulate the hot water. Harlow could soon feel the temperature begin to climb. The temperature changes came in waves with the motion of Mr. Haramin's large hands. "If you sit forward the hot water will be able to get behind your back easier." The physician said while replacing the tub stopper.

"Oh, ok." Harlow said in a weak and squeaky voice. He leaned forward a little and the wave of warm water rushed in behind him. "Thanks."

"No problem, just a trick I've learned through the years." Mr. Haramin said with a casual smile.

This easy smile, which rarely dawned on Mr. Haramin's face didn't escape Harlow's attention. "Do, do you want me to get out, sir? I can finish washing later." Harlow asked sheepishly.

"No, no. don't be silly." Haramin chuckled. "If you haven't soaped up yet, then we can wash together." He stretched to the side and grabbed the bar of soap from the shelf where it sat, still dry. "Turn around, I'll get your back."

Hesitantly Harlow did as told. Mr Haramin dunked the soap in the water and began to lather the fur on his back. "It feels nice to have your back rubbed like this doesn't it? There are just some spots where arms can't reach." Mr Haramin said and used his fingers to rub down Harlow's spine, the trimmed nails slightly digging into his skin.

He had to admit, the massage really did feel good. He had seen Mr. Haramin massage patients before, to stimulate blood flow and speed recovery, and thought to himself,He is just treating me like any other patient.

After a few moments the older man stopped, avoiding touching Harlow's tail, and scooped the now luxuriously hot water over Harlow's back, rinsing the suds from his fur. "There you go. Now would you mind returning the favor?"

Harlow turned back around and Mr Haramin held the bar of soap out to him. "Uh, ok. Is there a certain way I am supposed to do this or something?"

Mr. Haramin chuckled, "No, not really. I can show you where pressure points are and where the different muscle groups are located later, for now I just want a clean back." He said as he stood, bringing his manhood out of the water where it dangled in front of Harlow's face for a moment. Harlow's anxiety rose once again.

Mr Haramin turned around and lowered himself back into the water. "Please make sure the area is wet before applying the soap. Dry fur doesn't suds up well." He said.

"Oh, yeah." Harlow said and scooped up the water in his paws, pouring it down the man's back. The fur furrowed where the water ran, but remained fluffy and dry in places. He scooped several more times before getting the entire wide back wet.

Being of a young age and possessed of an abundance of hormones, Harlow's body didn't understand how to properly react in this situation. Without noticing until the tip brushed lightly against Mr. Haramin's tail, Harlow's now fully engorged penis protruded abruptly out from between his legs.

Automatically, Harlow shifted his hips and withdrew his pelvic area as far back as possible. He watched the man in front of him with his breath held tight. Luckily, nothing out of the ordinary changed in Mr. Haramin's demeanor, and he released his breath before continuing.

Then Harlow remembered the soap. He had wet down the huge man's back, but now he needed to lather it. Harlow slowly reached to the shelf on the wall side of the tub where he had set the soap.

His brain frantically thinking and wondering how he could escape this awkward predicament. His hand moved as slowly as he could make it, as if he were pushing it through a wall of dense mud.

It still only took a few seconds to reach the soap and Harlow didn't have nearly enough time to come up with a plan. He knew trying to excuse himself would look suspicious. So as he grabbed the soap in his left hand he did the only thing he could think of to do. With a swift motion, Harlow lifted up his body just enough to use his free hand to tuck his shaft underneath and behind his thighs, then lowered himself back down.

The pain of his rod bending and rubbing against the wood of the tub was excruciating and took all he could do to not cry out and leap from the tub. But he did endure. With a grimace he slid forward enough to reach Mr. Haramin's shoulders, where he quickly rubbed the bar of soap over the man's wet gray fur with both hands.

He worked as swiftly as he could while also trying not to make his teacher think he was in a hurry. He rotated his hands in circles and the suds blossomed. Harlow's mind raced, quickly cycling through possible scenarios of what might transpire if Mr. Haramin found out. Would he be mad? Would he be disgusted? Would he be interested? Would I be interested? Would he take it as an offer? Would I become his sex slave? Would I be forced to live and work and provide a warm hole for Mr. Haramin for the rest of my life? I like girls! Do I only like girls? I am going to marry a girl, right? Do I have to?

These thoughts distracted Harlow and his swirling hands on Mr. Haramin's back began to move automatically. He grappled with the ideas of who he was or what he might be, along with stifling the groin pain.

So much had already happened today, this was the last thing Harlow needed. Having to witness one of the nicest people he knew pass away, then sharing those awful emotions with Mr. Haramin. Harlow felt like the two had bonded then, but now his body was attempting to betray the trust the man had shown him.

The distractions allowed some of the blood to travel back to his brain, unfortunately the returning of blood to his brain also meant a decrease of blood filling the source of his problems, and it slowly started to inch forward. Increased pain and a feeling of doom washed over Harlow as he realized his treacherous body part wouldn't just recede up and in, but instead drag itself forward and bounce upward to make full contact.

Knowing he was almost finished washing his mentor's back, Harlow lowered himself just a little bit more to stall the movement momentarily. Luckily, as he descended, the pain was less. Unfortunately it caused a very stimulating sensation to course through his lower regions.

His uncontrollable excitement peaked and without being able to crouch any lower, the friction holding him back released, springing his shaft forward like a launching catapult.

Harlow's left hand quickly descended to pin his flesh to the bottom of the tub, but as he did so, his hand brushed Mr. Haramin's tail. The feeling of dread and extreme awkwardness sent spasms through his entire body and his automatic lathering hand stopped mid circle.

Mr. Haramin twitched in reaction to the abrupt touching of his tail, but said nothing. Now with only one hand, Harlow grabbed for the rinsing cup and dunked it quickly into the tub. He raised it smoothly like nothing had happened and began to rinse the suds from Mr. Haramin's back. It was awkward to hold himself back with one hand and pour water down his mentor's back with the other, but he did the best he could.

Once the suds had been rinsed off Harlow stammered, "There, there you go," And quickly slid backwards and angled his body to the side. The water splashed out of the tub with the speed of his reverse movement. Harlow sat panting with the unusual exertion and anxiety of the situation, so grabbed the soap and began lathering himself quickly as a distraction.

"Thank you very much Harlow." Mr. Haramin spoke. He then lowered himself more fully into the tub and sat back against the wall. He glanced at Harlow who was frantically soaping himself and closed his eyes. "If you wouldn't mind leaving me some soap, I need to wash the rest of my body as well." The older man spoke slowly in his deep calm voice.

Harlow looked down at his sudsy chest and realized he was still swirling the bar of soap over his fur. "Oh, yeah, uh, sorry Mr. Haramin. Here you go." he said and extended his hand with the soap to the other man.

Without even opening his eyes, Mr Haramin reached out and plucked the soap from Harlow's shaking hand. "No worries Harlow. It's perfectly normal to get carried away in the tub. Especially at your age, it's just nature." Mr. Haramin said and dipped the soap into the water before bringing it to his chest and beginning to work the soap into his fur. "When we are alone, or rather when there is no need to be formal, you can call me by my first name. You don't need to always address me as Mr. Haramin."

Harlow thought about that for a minute as he rinsed off his fur. His erection had thankfully receded for the most part and his brain returned to normal functioning. "Uh, Mr. Haramin?" Harlow asked. "What is your first name?"

A gigantic belly laugh sent waves of water over the side of the tub. Mr. Haramin's voice boomed in laughter so loud Harlow was sure the entire town could hear. "Oh, oh Harlow. Ahh, hahaha. I can't believe I've never told you my name." The large man paused for breath and used his finger tip to wipe his eyes. "My name is Lennard."

Harlow was still completely embarrassed by what had just transpired with his treacherous body, but Lennard's joyous mirth was infectious and he smiled meekly and reached out his hand. "Nice to meet you Lennard." he squeaked.

Mr. Haramin took Harlow's hand and shook it in an overly exaggerated manner. "Nice to meet you Harlow." Then the two chuckled lightly and the tension in the bath evaporated.

When Lennard had first met Harlow, he had just suffered from a fall. The timing of finding him in need of employment was fortuitous. He had seen the boy around, working odd jobs before, but hadn't really considered him as anything other than the son of the town drunk, trying to make ends meet.

When he made the offer to Harlow to be his fetcher, Lennard hadn't expected much. The Poldare twins seemed to like him and he said he could count, so hiring him for a few weeks while he healed seemed like an easy choice.

Within the first few days, Lennard learned how intelligent the boy was. He was curious and loved to read. Lennard slowly grew to the idea that Harlow could make a decent physician and began pushing him harder, involving him in more of his work. The boy was eager and capable which made Lennard extremely happy.

Harlow had a difficult home life though. This was something Lennard had little experience with. His family had been loving and large. He was the oldest sibling in his family and the first to leave the house. He knew from an early age that he was going to be a physician, and began absorbing knowledge as fast as possible, in much the same way Harlow does now.

Through the years, he had grown used to Harlow's company and looked forward to their interactions. He could come up with theories and hold a conversation better than most people in town at his young age of seventeen. He was mature for his age and while Lennard couldn't change the way his apprentice had to live, he saw the boy as the stand-in for the son he never had.

Lennard had some fun in his youth, and watched as the people around him paired off and mated. He always thought eventually he would meet his mate, but the years moved on and Lennard stayed alone. Eventually he lost hope of finding a mate,and accepted he would be alone in this lifetime. He still enjoyed the company of another person in his bed from time to time, but the attachment associated with mating had never entered into his life.

Part of Lennard still held out hope that he would find someone and start a small family, but the larger part of him accepted his loneliness and was happy to have Harlow around to pass on the wisdom he had gained in his life.

It was for this reason, Lennard had decided to do something out of the ordinary. Harlow's father was a drunk and rarely interacted with his son. Lennard knew the man would never get around to bringing his son to manhood, so intended to perform the ceremony himself.

He understood and accepted the risks, he felt the negative outcomes were minimal at best, since Harlow saw him as a substitute father. He didn't have a specific time or date planned, but with the heightened emotions of the day's events as well as this fortuitous encounter, he knew the timing was correct.

Harlow was at a point in his development where his hormones were stronger than his common sense. If he were to act on them before becoming a man through the bonding ceremony, his life would be all but forfeit. Lennard couldn't allow such an intelligent and driven young man to end up in such dire circumstances.

In Canursid culture, a person's tail is seen as a semi sexual part of the body. While it remains exposed, it's thought of as bad manners to touch another person's tail without permission. Canursid tails are extremely sensitive and are an additional sensory organ specific to the Canursid species. The fine hairs on the underside are excellent at sensing air changes as well as being able to pick up certain scents which the Canursid nose can not. The tail is also an emotional sensing tool when in close contact with other people. - The Physicians Compendium, Species and Cultures - Dr. Ronet NewSmoked Elboar steaker

They rinsed the soap from their fur and sat in the hot water for several more minutes, letting the aroma of the jungle-esque bathroom ease their bodies and remove any lingering negativity.

"Harlow." Lennard eventually said, breaking the silence. "I know your father has been... distracted a lot, and now you're working with me, so the two of you don't get to spend much time with each other."

Lennard paused and looked over to see Harlow's expression change to that of disappointment. He slightly nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"You are at an age where things can get a little strange. Your body can betray you at the most awkward of times." Harlow looked up to see the knowing smile on Lennard's face and felt the blood rush to his cheeks.

"If you have questions or need advice, I am here for you." Lennard continued, feeling the embarrassment radiating off of the young man. Lennard let the awkward silence extend for a moment. "I hadn't planned on giving you this talk now, but circumstances AROSE." He emphasized the word and lifted an eyebrow. "Which made me think this would be the best time. I didn't expect you to feel me up though." He said and winked mischievously, deepening the teenagers embarrassment.

"Don't be embarrassed, we've known each other for over two years now. If you want to feel my tail, go ahead." Lennard shifted to his left and extended his tail towards Harlow. "I am sorry though, but... you're not my type. Tail is all you get." he said through his impish grin.

Harlow looked at his mentor, trying to decide if he were joking again or if he was being serious? He also wondered if he really wanted to touch Mr. Haramin's tail. He stared at it, not sure what to do.

"Go ahead. I promise it's fine." Lennard said. "It's not uncommon for good friends to know each other's tails, in fact most people have several closely bonded friends whom they share their tail with. It's like giving someone a loving hug."

Hesitantly Harlow reached out and lightly touched the extended tail. It was underwater, so the feel of it was different than it would be above water, but the fur along the top felt extremely dense and hard while the underside softened and felt softer than anything he had ever touched.

"It's very soft isn't it?" Lennard asked softly. A wide smile crossed his broad face.

Harlow held on to the tail a little longer and replied. "Softer than anything."

Lennard straightened up, but allowed his tail to float between the two. "Do, do you want to feel my tail too?" Harlow hesitantly asked.

The smile on Lennards face widened if possible. "That is up to you."

Harlow thought about it for a few seconds then lifted and shifted to his right, allowing his tail to float up in the same space as Lennards. "Ok. I would like you to touch my tail too."

Lennard gently reached out his large hands and, starting near the top, gently gripped Harlow's tail, his hand encircling the entire appendage with room to spare.

Immediately upon feeling Lennard's touch, Harlow's frontal tail extended in reaction. A shiver ran through Harlow's body. He knew with certainty that Lennard felt his body spasm. He looked at the large man with his huge grin.

"It's very stimulating isn't it?" Lennard said. "Now you know why it's taboo to touch a person's tail without consent." He continued to slowly slide his hand down Harlow's tail. Every slight movement brought new waves of pleasure and excitement.

This was definitely the first time anyone had touched Harlow's tail. He had refrained from touching his own tail for fear it meant he would be seen in an unflattering way.

The man's large hand slowly moved further down Harlow's tail bringing with it more and more pleasure and intense feelings. Harlow's body shuddered with the waves of stimulation, leaving him unable to move, think, and barely able to breathe.

Lennard watched and knew from his own personal experience with his own bonding years ago, the intense waves of physical stimulation as well as emotional bombardment Harlow was going through.

The first bond of a Canursid's life is extremely intense and changes a young Canursid both mentally and physically. The change is profound enough as to be perceptible to other Canursid's. It is a rite of passage into maturity and marks the first of several ceremonies conducted by Canursids throughout their lifetime.

Canursids are somewhat unique among the beastial races. Rather than a heritage stemming from a single species of animal, the Canursids trace their heritage back to a combination of species. Their outward appearance generally favors canines with short thick fur covering their body. Whereas; Internally the Canursid's musculature and bone density resemble an Ursine heritage. The ursine substructure gives Canusids a heartier and often girthier stature than species of canine heritage.

While multi-species beastoids are not uncommon, there is one vital aspect to the canursid which sets them apart from the others, their tails. Rather than being short and underdeveloped like most ursines, or stiff and rigid like most canines, the Canursid tail is long, flexible, and tapers to a point. Resembling a primate or rattus more than either of the originating species. The truly defining feature of a Canursid tail though is the ridge of extremely fine hair which extends along the underside of the tail from the base to near the tip.

It is due to the unusual nature of their tails that Canursids have developed ways to interact intimately with other Canursids by using their tails. A minor psychic connection is established when two Canursid's connect their tails. Some members of the species are capable of mental communication or telepathy along the connection, but most only possess the ability to share sensations with, or emotionally empathize with the person whose tail they are touching.

The bonding ritual is the first and most important ritual in a Canursids' life. It is by tradition as well as need, performed by the adult of the same gender as the young Canursid. Ie. mother to daughter or father to son. The bond is in essence a young Canursids first sexual experience. By initiating the experience with the same gender adult family member, the young Canursids' sexual desires are not directed towards the initiator and can therefore form naturally.

When the bonding is done in unfavorable ways, the bond can create circumstances which are highly detrimental to the receiver of the bond. Rather than a mental bond being formed between family members of the same gender, the bond can gain a physical dependence which needs constant physical reconnection with the original bonder.

This dependence becomes an addiction. If the original bonder becomes absent, for whatever reason, the bonding will alter the mental state of the bonded Canursid. In the attempt to find an alternate source of stimulation to replace the physical need of the original bonder, the addicted Canursid turns to the use of mind altering drugs and risky sexual behavior.

This behavior is known as "Chasing the dragon" in Canursid culture. Eventually the mental state of the addicted Canursid devolves to a state of delusion and violence. At this point there is no way to satiate the bondeds' needs, even with the original bonder's physical interaction. The only merciful treatment at this point is euthanasia. - The Physicians Compendium, Species and Traits - Dr. Ronet NewSmoked Elboar steaker

Although Lennard hadn't lied to the young man about people having multiple close bonds, he didn't tell Harlow of the bonding ceremony and the intensity of the experience. This was not common knowledge given to young canursids due to the risk of their first bonding being done by someone other than the appropriate parent.

His mentor's large hand neared the end of Harlow's tail. His brain was beyond being able to comprehend anything but the amazing sensations occurring within his body. He shuddered with the ecstatic electricity pulsed through his body and without the ability to control himself, Harlow released.

Finally the hand slipped from his tail Harlow's brain slowly came back into focus. The memories of the trial burned vividly, but the actual sensory overload started to fade.

Recollection came back to him. He remembered he was in a tub with his mentor. He remembered the awkward circumstances leading up to this point and realized he had ejaculated while having his tail stroked.

He quickly looked down to see the sudsy water and hoped it prevented Lennard from knowing what he had done.

Lennard, his mentor, friend, and now... more? Feelings towards the man bubbled up. They were confusing and new. He had idolized Lennard since becoming his apprentice, but now a deeper desire seemed to be there. He opened his eyes more fully and looked at the big man.

His dark gray fur lay wet and clinging to his body. The lighter gray around his muzzle showing his age had stretched up to his ears as did his sweet smile. His dark lips slightly upturned at the sides all caught Harlow's attention like they never had before.

"How are you feeling?" Lennard asked politely.

Even his deep sonorous voice seemed to hold Harlow's attention greater than usual. His still recovering mind envisioned hearing the big man's voice whispering in his ear while holding him tightly.

"Um... I am good. I'm great actually." Harlow finally got his tongue to work. "Is that always so intense?" He inwardly hoped so, and that Lennard would be there to do it to him always.

"No. This was your first time and so it is known as your bonding." Lennard explained. "Normally the bonding is done between father and son, but your father isn't in a state well enough to perform the ritual correctly and it is always better to have the rite completed by an elder before experiencing it yourself with someone untrained."

Harlow heard the words and understood the meanings, but couldn't grasp the concept. His father was supposed to do this? A ritual? A confused look must have come over his face since Lennard placed his hand on Harlow's shoulder and drew him close.

"I am sorry I didn't tell you more about the bonding. It is a sacred rite passed down from father to son. It creates a strong bond between the two." Lennard spoke quietly in Harlow's ear. "If it is not done correctly, the young person can go through a personality change where all he or she can think about for the rest of their life is achieving the intensity of sensations you just felt. Unfortunately this was the only time you will feel such intensity. A person's tail remains very sensitive and is very pleasurable, but a bonding can only happen once."

Harlow's brain was still picking up the words and understood the general gist of what Lennard was telling him, but where he touched Harlow's arm an electricity seemed to flow. This was distracting to Harlow, but nowhere near as distracting as the electricity surging through him from where his tail and Lennards contacted and coiled around each other.

Lennard watched Harlow, his eyes remained glazed and his attention was obviously somewhere else as his little brain visibly filled with blood once again. This was the worst possible outcome. It looked as though Harlow had formed a sexual bond with him rather than a fatherly bond.

Lennard contemplated the situation. He knew going in that this was a possibility. He had focused more on scenarios where he and Harlow bonded as father and son or teacher and pupil as was more accurate, but he did have a few options for this occurrence as well.

The first and easiest would be to let him go and hope he would continue his studies with someone else, rather than forming an addiction and start "chasing the dragon." This was the term used to describe a person whose bonding was done improperly, usually by another teenager, and the unending desire to achieve the intense sensations which only happened the first time.

The second was to attempt to marry him off quickly. Sometimes a person of the opposite sex was able to provide enough stimulation that the bonding became a secondary desire and the individual could continue to live and function normally. Although in this case it was always better when the two bonded continually avoided one another. This would make teaching him to be a physician impossible, but he may be interested and talented in other professions as well.

The third option, and the best option for Harlow right now, would be to accept the bond with him and take him as lover and apprentice. Lennard wasn't completely opposed to it. He enjoyed being with females, but had never found himself one who desired more than a quick romp. He had some enjoyable experiences with males as well, but those had been unplanned and often became awkward afterwards.

The age difference would be the greatest difficulty. Harlow was old enough now to be considered a man, especially since he was now bonded, but most people would find Lenard's mating with someone so young as disturbing if not unlawful. He would certainly lose the trust of the town and may be so ostracized as to be exiled from the community.

The final option, and one which was rarely done, was to send him on a crusade of the heart. The basic idea of such a crusade was to give the young person a quest to find something non-existent in a place fraught with danger, thus the young person would die trying to please his bonded.

Lennard wasn't sure where he could send Harlow, let alone if he had the heart to do so. He was a lonely man who could definitely use the company. Harlow unfortunately wasn't Lennards first choice for a lifetime partner.

Lennard looked down at his lovestruck pup and debated.

Chapter 2

Harlow looked up at Lennard with his large dewey eyes. Damnit Lennard thought to himself. It's not optimal, but I can't just send this kid off to die, and he's got such potential I can't NOT teach him how to be a great physician.

"I guess our relationship is going to have to change now huh?" Lennard asked Harlow.

"Wha? What do you mean?" A troubled look came over his face.

"Well, it's obvious the bond we shared left you with some... Adult desires, shall we say, directed towards me." Lennard spoke with one side of his face upturned in a smirk.

Harlow's face, normally a soft tan turned pink like he had been scalded. He looked down and noticed his own body betraying him again and slid his hands down between his legs.

Lennard chuckled a little and pulled the young man in tighter. "This is what can happen when there isn't a familial elder to perform the bonding. If your father would have been here instead of me, the sexual desires wouldn't have manifested." Lennard sighed. "But that's life."

Harlow thought about his father for a moment. He thought about how he had felt before the bonding. Would I have preferred my father to be here and have Mr. Har... I mean Lennard and mine's relationship stay as it was? Most people married and had kids. He wouldn't do that now, even though he had planned to do so all his life.

He wondered how the town's people would react to him being with someone so much older than himself. His anxiety grew and his logical mind began considering different scenarios of what his future could have been and what it may be like now.

He loved his father to an extent, but didn't trust him. Alcohol was the only thing Brodil loved anymore. He frequently stole from Harlow, and had no respect for his privacy. He drank himself to the point of passing out, then his hangovers lasted days after sometimes He would wake up long enough to do a minimal amount to work around his farm, while drinking, until he passed out again.

He much preferred to be around Lennard, and was glad he had bonded with him, even though it would forever change both of their lives. He knew his mentor well, and knew he had to have contingencies for this possible outcome. He wasn't sure what could potentially happen when a bonding went wrong, but he was sure the alternatives could be worse.

He wasn't sure if he truly wanted an answer, but hesitantly he spoke. "Lennard; first of alI, thank you. I am very glad it was you instead of my father who I bonded with. I doubt very much if he could have done this properly and who knows how things would have ended up." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I know this can't have been what you wanted, and I'm sorry." Lennard patted his arm and began to speak, but Harlow cut him off.

"Please, let me finish." Harlow looked up and Lennard acknowledged. "You knew this was a possibility. You had to have ideas as to what to would do with me if this happened. What..." He stuttered a little, fearing the answer. "What were the other possibilities? Would you have..."

"Hush." Lennard cut in and moved his free hand to Harlow's chin where he cupped it gently. "Don't you ever worry about those things. I would never hurt you."

Their eyes met and looked deeply into each other's souls. Harlow saw nothing but truth and love there and relaxed. He felt the tears which had been held back by fear running down his cheeks.

The big man looked into Harlow's eyes and his tears spilled as his body relaxed from the tension. His lips slightly curled at the ends, a small smile replaced the worried look from a moment earlier.

He lowered his face to his hand and pressed his muzzle onto Harlow's. It was their first kiss, and Lennard thought to himself as they pressed close to one another. I definitely made the right choice.

The kiss was brief, not because either one wanted to stop, but because a voice entered through the window as well as a knock at the door.

"Of all the times to be interrupted." Lennard grumbled as he relaxed his arms from around Harlow and pecked his lips once more lightly. "You stay here, I know how drained you must be after all you've gone through. I'll go see who's here."

Harlow was in no shape to dispute his mentor, so watched him as he levered his large body out of the water and over the side of the tub. Earlier when Lennard had exposed himself, Harlow was embarrassed and felt extremely awkward. Now at the same sight, a sense of anticipation and wonder filled him.

He watched as the large man grabbed a robe hanging near the bathroom door. He yelled to the visitor. "Hold on, I'm coming." The robe went over his wet fur and he strolled towards the door, still dripping.

Harlow really just didn't have the stamina to do much at the moment, but realized there was a direct line of sight from the front door to the tub. His brain was moving slowly, but he understood the need for discretion and lowered himself into the water as far as possible, the tip of his muzzle the only part of him left unsubmerged.

Through the water, the voices of Lennard and the visitor sounded muffled. He obviously couldn't tell what was said, but the general feel of the conversation seemed solemn.

Before Lennard opened the door, he took one last look backward into the bathroom in a panic, realizing whoever was at the door would have a direct line of sight to Harlow's location. To his surprise, the bathroom, tub included, looked vacant. He wasn't totally sure where Harlow had moved to, but was glad for the kid's quick thinking.

With his mind at ease, he settled his nerves and opened the door. The Mayor, Kyaro Ansong, stood waiting under the awning. He quickly glanced at Lennard, his eyes taking in the bathrobe and wet fur. An inquisitive eyebrow raised, but he moved on without questioning the reason for Lennards mid day bath. "Mr. Haramin, do you have any further need for the late Mrs. Ellenesta's body? Are there any experiments or tests you need to run?" He asked and made a spinning motion with his hand.

The question took Lennard by surprise, but he quickly recovered. "Uh, no. Her death was due to old age, not from a sickness of the body. Nothing contagious to worry about Mr. Ansong." Lennard replied. "May I ask why the interest in such things?"

"Of course Lennard." The Mayor responded. "I am arranging the Pyre celebration for this evening, and thought it would be prudent to ask if you needed anything more before starting the preparations."

"I see. I suppose since there are no family members left, there is no need for a mourning period." Lennard said as he placed his hand on his chin. "Still, it's awfully quick to hold a pyre on the same day as the person's death. Is there any particular reason for the hastiness?"

"Well, it's not a great excuse, but the harvest moon festival is next week, and I would prefer to keep the two events as separate as possible. No one wants to go from a pyre to a party." Mr Ansong explained. He set his hand on Lennards shoulder. "Unless there is a medical need, I would greatly appreciate your approval, and maybe a little help if you wouldn't mind?" His hands came together in front of his chest, palms touching. I'd really like this to happen tonight if at all possible."

Mr Ansong made a valid point. The pyre was technically a celebration of a person's life, there was always feast and a general feel of camaraderie and mirth, but no one would feel much like partying the night after a somber event like a pyre. With a sigh, Lennard spoke. "Of course Kyaro. You know I am always here to help the people of Greenby. Let me go get dressed and fetch Harlow. I can send him off to his house to gather his father and announce the occasion to those he passes as he heads West."

"Splendid idea Len. I'll begin making the announcement around town myself. I can send Maka South to alert the residents there." Mr. Ansong's smile widened a bit too much to be announcing a funeral pyre, but Lennard understood his excitement. "Would you mind talking to the Poldare boys about arranging the wood and telling their little sister to cover the East? She's a good girl, around Harlow's age actually. Maybe..." He trailed off as he turned and walked away without receiving an answer.

Lennard had been a fresh new physician, just moved to Greenby, when he delivered Kyaro. He had literally known the man his entire life. He had a charm which he knew how to use when talking to people and knew how to speak Royal-ese when necessary, so made an excellent Mayor. But sometimes his mind wandered a little too far and fast, occurrences of him walking off like this were frequent. It drove Lennard crazy, but he accepted Kyaro for who he was and shook his head while closing the door.

He walked back towards the tub, considering his options. He noticed a small pair of nostrils poking up from the water, and chuckled to himself. Smart move. He thought. He seriously considered jumping back in the tub and joining his new, new what? Lover? Boy? Boy toy? Partner? Husband? Lennard thought to himself. His mind spun for a moment before deciding labels didn't need to be something he figured out right now.

There were things to do at the moment. Although he wasn't thrilled with the Mayor's plan, he did agree to it. Sending Harlow to run to his house and tell people along the way had been a spur of the moment suggestion, but Lennard recognized now the boy would be exhausted and in no shape to go running across the countryside.

Ugh... one thing after another today. Lennard paused and massaged the spot right in front of his ears. "I'll have to make up an elixir of vitality before sending him. " He said aloud, thinking through the steps he would need to follow to get through the day. He mumbled to himself.

He knew the intimate time he had looked forward to only moments ago was out of the picture now. While he was disappointed, he knew Harlow would be even more devastated. Well, at least he released his demon earlier, more than I'm gonna get for a while. He thought to himself sardonically. He could only imagine the flood of hormones and emotions released during the bonding to be directed towards a partner rather than a familial bond. The desires must be intense. He felt sorry for Harlow having to deny him for now.

Chapter 3

A large hand scooped up Harlow's head and pulled him from the water. He had closed his eyes and possibly fell asleep a little while Lennard had been away.

He opened his eyes to see Lennard's icy blue eyes staring into his own. There was a light inside them he hadn't seen before, but there was something else, a weariness which pained him to see.

"What's wrong?" He immediately asked his mentor.

"Our lazy day has just been turned into a busy one." Lennard said, ending with a low sigh. "Not the kind of busy I was hoping for either." A smile perking up one side of his face. Lennard then explained the conversation he had with the mayor as Harlow withdrew from the tub and dried the water out of his fur the best he could.

Bathing, or rather the drying off afterwards, was always a chore when a person has a fur covered body. Lennard was one of the few people in town with a wind rune fan, which both men stood in front of and dried off quicker, the moving air drying the fur much faster than any towel.

Harlow was still extremely run down, but the little nap he had caught had refreshed him enough to dry off and get dressed. He was extremely disappointed as Lennard stepped into his under-clothes, but understood the necessity.

Eventually the two were dressed and stood in front of each other. Lennard, only slightly taller, wrapped his huge arms around Harlow and pulled him close.

"I'm sorry we couldn't be lazy the rest of the day, but such is the life of a physician." Lennard spoke, looking into Harlow's eyes. He pressed his muzzle next to Harlow's again and they kissed passionately.

This entire situation was new to Harlow, everything happened so fast today. His hands wrapped around Lennard as best they could, but didn't know what to do, so he gripped the loose skin on Lennard's sides and tried to pull himself as close as possible to his partner.

A small whelp came from Lennard as he moved his hands to intercept Harlow's and withdrew from the kiss. "Claws can be nice at times, but I would prefer it if you didn't try and rip off my fat rolls. I've worked hard to build them to this size." Lennard winked and quickly moved in for one more peck.

"I, I'm sorry. I wasn't sure what to do with my hands." Harlow admitted in a sheepish voice.

A quick belly laugh from Lennard all but lifted Harlow off the floor. The large muscles underneath the layer of fat and skin jumped up with tremendous strength. "It can take some time to figure out what and where to put things, especially when you've only just gotten started." Lennard chucked.

Regretfully, the two had to separate, and they reluctantly moved off to the laboratory in the clinic, Lennard leading Harlow by the hand. The gesture meant a great deal to the younger man, his nerves remained inflamed and even the slight touch of Lennard's hand around his own sent electricity through him. He wondered if this feeling was normal. Does everyone in love feel this tingling? His mind asked.

In the laboratory, Lennard walked his apprentice through the ingredients and recipe for an elixir of vitality. "Once you have the Bolanisa flower crushed, then you add the boiling mixture a small portion at a time to the pestle and use the whisk to mix the potion. Too fast and it will turn brown and be useless. You want the color to remain bright blue like the Bolanisa petals." Lennard explained.

Harlow tried to listen and pay attention, but the fog over his brain made understanding and memorizing incredibly difficult. There was also the fact that he draped his arm around Lennard's back to help himself upright. The touch was incredibly distracting.

"Here you go Harlow. Sip slowly, it's still pretty hot." Lennard said and handed Harlow a small glass vial filled with a bright blue liquid. Steam gently rose from the unstoppered lid. "Optimally the potion should cool and rest for at least an hour before consumption or placing the stopper, but in the need for haste, a hot potion will do."

Harlow took the vial and brought it to his face. He sniffed the concoction, a flowery yet spicy aroma wafted up. He took one last look at his mentor who gestured with a small up-tip of his muzzle and drank the potion down.

The hot fluid burned the back of his throat a little, but nothing he couldn't bear. He had grown used to ingesting hot liquids, since he rarely had time in the mornings to dally before having to run off to the clinic.

"I said sip it, you crazy kid. Are you ok?" Lennard spoke as the liquid rapidly descended down Harlow's throat.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It actually tastes really good." Harlow replied. "Kind of sweet and spicy at the same time."

Lennard shook his head then smiled. He looked at this young man. He had worked with him for years, took him for granted, never really saw who he was beyond a bright kid who he could mold into a fine physician. Now though, as he looked into his pale brown eyes he saw something more.

There was intelligence there, but beyond the surface there was a depth. Thoughts raced through Lennard's mind of what he knew of Harlow's life. His father had been a great farmer and man, but after his wife's and brother's passing had all but abandoned Harlow. He had to grow up much too quickly for any kid.

He learned to feed and take care of himself as well as deal with his father who would be drunk for days on end. Finding friends then working around town doing whatever he could do to pay for food. Spending his free time in the library or learning from whomever would teach him, so he could amount to something as an adult.

Now for the past two years he had shown up early each morning to assist with the clinic and help out Lennard in whatever fashion he deemed necessary. Generally things which He didn't care to do. Fetching water, cleaning the clinic's rooms, monitoring the potions which took hours of patience to get right. Not once had he faltered or complained.

He saw looking back up at him a man who had endured more than anyone should have to. Being molded and hardened by what life had thrown at him, but retaining a softness and caring rarely found amongst people. He saw in those eyes a compassion and love unlike anything he had seen before. His heart swelled with happiness because this young man was bonded with him.

The thoughts were new to him. He had never before felt this way for someone. He was always told there was a certain feeling which overcame a person when finding their mate. It's not something Lennard had really placed much credence to, never having experienced it in his long life. Now as he realized the strange sensations he was experiencing must be what everyone else had told him about, he wondered why he had doubted.

An idea came to Lennard at this moment. "Harlow, wrap your tail in mine, would you?" He gently asked.

Without hesitation, Harlow's tail moved up and intercepted Lennards'. He wrapped his tail around the boy's and felt him do the same to his tail. This touching of tails was more than just a physical intimacy, it allowed for emotional empathy as well.

Lennard had done this a few times in the past with varying results. There needed to be a closeness to the person whose tail you linked with. The closer the bond, the more the connection was established. As their tails intertwined, Lennard looked into Harlow's eyes again.

He was immediately drawn from his body, as was Harlow. Their spirits merged as one entity. The room around them fell away and was replaced by a vortex of swirling images and colors.

They watched as scenes of mysterious vistas passed by. They saw images of themselves from each other's perspectives in a multitude of different places and positions. Scores of unknown people joined the barrage of images swirling around them. Lights and reflective surfaces, faces of different species and strange clothing circled their disembodied spirit.

Slowly the images blurred into the background and a light filled the expanse. The light brought with it a sense of peace and fulfillment unlike anything either had felt before. Floating in the empty light filled space, their spirits separated slightly and their own identity was able to manifest. Stretching from each one's midsection, a rainbow swirl of energy connected the two.

Like a column of color and light, the bond between them glowed and strengthened. All of the images from before had become encapsulated within the glowing bond holding them together.

Slowly they floated back into their bodies, and consciousness took over once again. Lennard opened his eyes and watched Harlow do the same. The vision granted to them, the swirling connection between their spirits, now visible within each other's eyes.

Neither one spoke for several moments, happy just to be close to one another. Losing themselves in each other's eyes and feeling the warmth of each other's bodies touching. Finally Lennard whispered, "The bond. I assumed since I wasn't your father that it had turned into a physical manifestation. I thought I chose to be with you so you could continue to become a physician. But..." He trailed off.

"It's much more than just physical." Harlow continued. "It's spiritual, bonding our lives together both physically and spiritually."

"I didn't know this was possible." Lennard spoke quietly.

"I didn't know there was even such a thing as bonding this morning." Harlow spoke and smiled up at his partner. They both lightly chuckled.

They were content to just hold each other in silence for the next few moments. They had both just experienced something magical, far beyond what either could have imagined. Questions without answers whirled through their minds.

While neither of them wanted to move. The elixir of vitality Harlow had ingested was kicking in and his body became anxious with pent up energy. His paws began to quiver and grow restless and he slightly bounced from one to the other.

"I can tell the potion worked." Lennard said and uncoiled his tail from Harlow's. "You are literally bouncing on your paws."

"Yeah." Harlow replied. "I have so many questions though. All I really want to do is stay here next to you." He paused for a moment and sighed. "I know we need to take care of the jobs we were given, can we talk more later?"

"We will definitely talk more later. In fact, bring what you can back here with you. I want you to move here with me." Lennard replied. "Besides, there is still the physical connection we need to explore as well." He winked and a huge grin crossed his face.

An eyebrow raised over Harlow's right eye. "Uhhh... yeah." He spoke sideways, his cheeks instantly flushing. "I am looking forward to that." He paused for a brief second before exhaling in frustration. "But we got to get our jobs done first, right?"

Lennard moved in and stole a kiss from the ever more fidgety young man. "Unfortunately." So go burn off some energy on your trip home. Bring back what you can, and don't forget to grab some nicer clothes for the ceremony tonight." He swatted Harlow's left hindquarter and scooted him out the door.

"Yes sir. Be back later." Harlow said with a grin and all but ran out of the building.

"Ahh, to be young again." Lennard mumbled to himself as Harlow exited the building.

Chapter 4

It was mid afternoon by the time Harlow exited the clinic. The autumn day was still warm and the sun was high in the sky. A few clouds hovered over the mountains to the West making Harlow think there would be a spectacular sunset tonight.

The elixir of vitality he had drank left him feeling completely energized, to the point of jitters. He needed to expend some energy, so sprinted off down the road to his house. Normally it would take him almost an hour to walk the distance, but he felt like he could sprint the entire way at the moment.

The rhythmical thump, thump, thump as his feet hit the packed earth of the street brought his mind to the state of being in a trance. He had experienced this state of mind before, and used the self hypnotic trance frequently.

In this state he was able to basically place his body on autopilot while simultaneously running over the day's events in his mind. What a day it has been He thought to himself. First spending hours trying to hide in a corner of Granny's house so as to not have to watch her pass. Which was an utter failure.

Images of her in his memories flashed before his mind's eye. She was always so nice to him, giving him candy whenever they met. Then the images morphed into her lying on her bed at the end. The shallow ragged breaths pounding in his ears.

He felt his breathing become disrupted and focused again on his body. He was still running, but his breath was off. A pinch in his chest and side. Tears rolled out from his eyes and he sobbed for the loss of the kindly old woman once again.

He slowed his pace at this point, realizing he was leaving the center of town and would need to begin telling people of the pyre tonight. The pain in his side receded and the rhythm of jogging returned. He angled slightly to his left to stop at the Mannather house.

He plodded up the walkway and stopped in front of the door. He panted and took a moment to catch his breath before knocking on the large wooden door. It seemed his energy didn't last as long as usual, he should be able to run this distance with little effort. He contemplated the issue, wondering if this were due to the potion or to the other happenings of the day taking their toll on him.

Mrs. Mannather swung the door out and greeted Harlow after only a few moments. "Hello Harlow, what can I do for you today? Does Mr. Haramin need some more Alue?"

The question took Harlow by surprise and he stammered, "No, uh, maybe, but no. I am here to let you know that Mrs. Elennesta passed on this morning and her pyre will be tonight."

A look of shock then sadness passed over the chubby face of Mrs. Mannather. She had a mottled fur coloration, but mostly dark brown in the face. Her lighter brown eyebrows therefore stood out and highlighted every emotion which she experienced.

"I am sorry to hear that. Everyone knew it was coming, but still, to hear she actually died..." She trailed off for a moment. Her eyebrows then scrunched up in the middle and she asked, "Ok Harlow, what can I do to help?"

Harlow was only told to tell people of the news, he didn't have specific instructions for everyone. He looked at her with confused eyes, head tilted. "I don't really know mam. I was only told to let people out West know, nothing beyond that."

"Gotcha. So who told you to go tell people?" Mrs. Mannather asked.

"It was Mr. Haramin mam, but I think the Mayor told him, and the Mayor is supposed to be organizing it." Harlow responded.

"That sounds about right. I'll go find Mr. Ansong then. Thank you Harlow, you go on ahead and let the other folks know. I'll get my family rounded up and head to town"

Harlow made a small bow from his neck, then turned around and ran off.

"He's different. Did his father bond him?" She said to the air as she watched Harlow leave. I'm surprised the drunk cares enough about the boy to do it. I'm even more surprised he stayed sober long enough! She thought.

It was a short jog to the next house where the conversation with Mr. Jonom went much the same as it did with Mrs. Mannather. Harlow had never actually been to the Jonom house, and was surprised at how much bigger it was in person rather than how it looked from the road.

His next stop would be his house, unless he ran into someone along the road. Which he did. He stopped when he found Mr. Gali and his son Bentra riding into town with a cart of vegetables to sell.

These two were more shocked than the other families had been. They had been busy on their farm for the last week or so gathering their harvest. Mrs. Gali and their two daughters were off taking care of her mother in the town of Malanton, which was a day's ride to the south. They hadn't known of Granny's failing health at all, so to hear that she had died was a bit overwhelming.

Mr. Gali assured Harlow he would contact his wife and daughters as soon as he returned home, but they wouldn't be able to get back in time to attend the pyre. So instead of turning around, the pair continued on into town as planned. As they rode off Harlow heard the boy sobbing into his father's arm. He realized just how much Granny had meant to the people of Greenby. Her life had touched everyone, and her death would leave a lasting hurt.

As he began jogging again towards his house, which was now only a mile or so away, he let his body take over the running while he again allowed his brain to process. Two things quickly struck him as different about Bentra. He had always considered him to be a friend, an equal, someone he could have fun playing with. When he saw Bentra's reaction to the news and then heard him sobbing, he no longer saw an equal, instead he viewed him more as a child. Even though it was only this morning he himself had cried into Mr. Haramin's arm.

The second thing which occurred to him was in the way he had been treated by the adults he had seen today. They had not talked down to him. They questioned him, but not his legitimacy or motive, but took what he said as truth and acted accordingly.

He surmised the bonding must somehow change a person in a noticeable way. It was the only thing of significance which had changed in his life. So instead of re-living the morning's memories again, his mind this time fixated on the tub and his bonding.

The image of Lennard filled his mind's eye. He felt as if he could still smell the sweetness of the soap, the earthiness of the plants, and most alluring of all; Lennard's wet fur.

The entire experience replayed in his memories. Details which he had overlooked in the moment revealed themselves now as he watched almost as a third person observer. Subtle twitches on Lennard's face revealed him considering his next actions. Words and phrases coming to him now as what he should have said, but in the moment hadn't the mental facilities.

He remembered Lennard saying his father couldn't do the bonding, but wasn't it simply Lennard running his hand down his tail?

Harlow focused on the moment. The memory was cloudy with emotions. Then a whispered set of words said by Lennard tickled his brain. He focused on the sound, allowing the rest of the memory to play slowly in the background.

"I give of myself the bond of love. Let this pup, young of heart, have his soul known. So he may one day share his love with a pup of his own." Harlow could barely make out the first part, but Lennard continued on in what Harlow assumed was another language.

The memory went completely out of focus then. He knew this must have been the moment he had inadvertently released his demon.

The physical sensations flooded through his mind and into his body, the intensity was dulled, but not by much. His body ached once again with desire and anticipation. At the same time, the exhaustion and weariness lay there just below the surface, the elixir of vitality suppressing them. Yet they threatened to return at any moment. He pushed through the need to rest, leaving it for when he could properly sleep, then returned to the memory.

There. He spoke to himself. A sensation, not from his tail. The feeling was instantaneous, but filled his entire body.

He replayed the moment over multiple times. Each repetition he felt the sensation lessen, as though it were actively trying to hide from him. He couldn't be certain, but it almost felt as if he had discharged a large amount of static electricity. The sharpness and slight pain covered by the intensity of the pleasurable experience.

So engrossed in trying to identify the feeling better, Harlow completely forgot about his body. Until he felt his it smash into something at waist height which caused him to tumble feet over head and land on the ground with an, "Oomph" Knocking the air from his lungs.

It took a moment for him to re-orient himself. His eyes saw blue sky and clouds, his mouth tasted of dust, and his head screamed for him to breathe. With a huge inhalation of air, Harlow refilled his lungs and began coughing and spitting the dust out from his mouth and producing brown globs of phlegm containing the dust he had inhaled with the air to refill his lungs.

Minutes passed as he gasped, coughed, spat, and repeated. He was finally able to cough up the dust and breathe without coughing. He panted, tongue out and facing the ground. He had the intelligence to right himself to all four paws while expectorating the contaminants from his body. A wet pile of gelatinous goo now covered the space below his mouth.

"That was less than pleasant." He croaked.

"Maybe you should pay more attention to where you're running to." A gruff familiar voice responded from behind.

Harlow slowly turned around to see his house sitting in the dust bowl which was his yard. The voice of his father, a mere production of his mind.

He slowly raised himself to his feet and checked the wooden fence for damage. It was the fence he had run headlong into, but he knew if it were damaged, he would take the blame and be punished for it.

The fence was still intact and undamaged so Harlow limped to his door. He must have twisted his ankle in the fall because with each step a sharp stabbing pain radiated up into his leg.

He hoped his father hadn't found where he had hidden his stash again. He had stored away several pieces of Greywood bark and a few other herbs which could be used to treat minor pains and injuries. Unfortunately they were often mixed together and used to get high. Harlow had never tried this himself, but his father was definitely a fan.

The door opened with a loud creek as usual and Harlow stepped inside calling, "Father, are you here?"

There was no response. Harlow knew better than to assume the house was empty though, so stood for a moment and allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He looked around the entry room first, but saw no one there.

He made his way to his father's room and withdrew the curtain. His bed lay empty, the floor covered in bottles and debris, as usual. A sigh of relief escaped his lips. A few more steps brought him to his own room. He pushed through the curtain and entered.

The room had been trashed. His father had obviously been looking for anything hidden here. His straw mattress lay sideways on the floor, blankets strewn about. His books were unceremoniously thrown in different directions around the room. His clothing chest sat upside down and empty, his clothes scattered.

Harlow didn't own much, but the few things he treasured he kept here. Now, like it had been several times before, his things had all been strewn about like trash. A silent anger built in Harlow's chest. His father had no respect for him whatsoever. Treated him like the garbage which piled up in his own bedroom. He meant nothing to his father.

He simmered hot, thinking of things he could do in retribution. Unless it were something directly physical, his father would simply punish him and not care about whatever Harlow had destroyed. Physical things meant nothing to the man. His only interest in life was what could make him forget.

Then it dawned on him. There was one thing which his father actually cared about. The pain in his ankle momentarily forgotten and replaced with rage, Harlow turned and moved back to his father's room. He stormed in, ripping down the curtain and pushed his way through the trash to the table next to his father's bed.

There on the table was the one thing his father loved, a small portrait of his mother. It was a gift from his mother's parents to them on their wedding day. He would often lay here and drink himself to sleep staring at the painting of his wife.

Harlow had always held a reverence for the portrait, feeling sorry for his father enough to leave it alone. Even through times like these; where his privacy and treasures were invaded. Through the beatings, through starving, through it all, he felt his father deserved at least a small amount of respect. So he had never come between his father and his mother's portrait.

"Respect only goes so far." Harlow growled through his clenched jaw. "I am finished respecting you. I am taking my things and leaving, and I am claiming this as mine!" With the last word spoken he swiped the portrait from the bedside table and stormed out of the room.

The Poldare house was located a couple blocks East of the clinic. They were the woodcutters for the area, and always had extra logs on hand. Not only did they supply firewood for the families during the winter, but created timber for building as well in their lumber mill.

The town of Greenby had a main thoroughfare which crossed through the center of town. The road was well traveled, being located at a midpoint between the large city of Bolanda in the North and the capital of Murinsbad in the South.

Murinsbad is a country located on the southern continent of Ghaen. It's monarchy rules from the southern city of Nayen Harbor which lies along the Lispian sea. The capital city is also the largest trading port on the continent and is home to over five hundred thousand people. Multiple trade routes move around the country from there. Most of the merchants heading North stop in Greenby.

Because of this fortuitous location along the North South trade route, the town has multiple lodging establishments as well as a large market. This allows the farmers and other local commodity providers to have a steady patronage for their goods. It also provides access to more rare and difficult items to obtain. Herbs, cheeses, clothing, fabric, etc.

Lennards clinic sits one block West of the main road, the lumber mill three blocks East. The city extends a total of eight blocks in all directions, creating a square. Fifteen foot walls surround the town, but the gates are unmanned. Each gate opens to a cardinal direction. Past the walls, farmland and patches of trees surrounding the few farm houses, dominate the landscape. The exceptions being to the Northwest where a large forest still grows and extends almost to the walls, and the West where a large mountain range sits in the distance.

With Harlow gone on his way, Lennard took a few moments to relieve himself and freshen up. The vision they had just shared left them with many more questions, but they agreed those questions would have to wait until later.

He and Harlow both held a sense of responsibility and put the needs of others before their own. It was this quality which spoke to Lennard when deciding to continue to keep Harlow on as an apprentice.

The day seemed so long ago, and now to have all these feelings for the young boy who had been with him for years. Lennard questioned how life and fate worked in such indiscernible ways. The thoughts held no answers and were at best a distraction from what Lennard had agreed to do.

Placing the memory of the vision and all the questions it brought with it to the back of his mind, Lennard gathered some coins and stepped out into the afternoon sun. The warmth of the late summer day warmed his still damp fur as he began his afternoon's journey.

As he stepped from the doorway, another thought came to him. Did I really just invite him to live with me? He scolded himself and shook his head. There was only the one bedroom in his house now. I guess it's fortuitous that I am on my way to see the twins, it seems I'll be adding a second bedroom.

He passed through the block using an alleyway between two hotels along the main street. The Hard Roc and The Trolls Treasure Trail. Neither of which he cared to visit often. When he was in the mood to get drunk and frolic he went toThe Soft Underside.

The patrons at The Soft Underside were generally local and less boisterous. Plus, as it's name implies, the tavern catered more to the Canurid race and tail play was encouraged. A couple vague memories of times he had lost himself with one person or another flashed foggily through his mind. "Good times." He spoke aloud.

The Main road was almost always a soggy wet mess due to the frequent merchant traffic which passed by. This left Lennard with two options. The first was to walk down to the gate where he could cross using the elevated walkway. Or he could pull up his robe and slog through the muck like most people did.

Just coming from a bath, the idea of getting his paws all muddy was extremely off putting. He looked down the three blocks to the wall and sighed. "So I either add an extra five or so blocks to my walk, or I get some mud on my paws." He wasn't a fan of walking in general, but knew at his age and weight, the walk would do him good. So he pulled up his robe and slopped into the mud. I plan on getting a good workout after the party tonight with Harlow, no need to add so many steps now. He thought to himself and smiled wickedly.

As he arrived at the lumber mill's gate, Lennard was greeted by the younger sister of the Poldare twins. "Hello Lennard, what brings you here today?"

"Well hello Mika, you are looking well ." Lennard spoke and gave her a slight nod. "I am actually here to talk to both you and your brothers. Are they around I hope?"

She told him they were here and led him to the mill. The Poldare twins, Niko and Neko, were identical physically, and very few people could tell them apart. Lennard happened to be one of those people though. He had delivered them as pups and as he handed them to their parents who named them, he was witness to the touch of magic used to grant a name. While this magic is completely invisible, being a witness allowed him to see the very subtle color difference in each man's aura.

"Neko. Good to see you again." Lennard bellowed as he and Mika stepped towards the big man.

"Old Lennard, are you out to check on us again? We're fine." Neko replied in return. With a wave of his hand, the glowing rune which provided the air to spin the large saw blade faded and the sound in the room decreased dramatically.

"Thanks Neko, I know you guys are always busy, so I do appreciate you taking a break for me." Lennard said and gripped Neko's hand. It was calloused and gnarled from all the work done over the man's short life, Lennard could feel his great strength in his grasp. "I wish I was here on happier business though."

Niko joined the group only a few moments later and Lennard grabbed Niko's hand in turn. "Well met Niko." Lennard greeted him.

He then proceeded to inform the siblings of Granny's death and the consequent pyre being held tonight. Ever since the Poldare siblings' parents had died while hauling back a large load of lumber to the family's mill, the twins had stepped up to keep the family business going.

It was also because of their parent's untimely demise, the twins were more than willing to assist in readying the wood for the pyre. "Don't worry about a thing Len, and if you see the Mayor, tell him everything will be ready by sundown." Niko said as Lennard and Mika stepped out of the door to the mill.

Mika, gladly accepting her quest from the Mayor, waved and started jogging off. "Thanks Mika." Lennard yelled after her. "There is one other thing I wanted to talk to you about, but it can be later. Would you mind stopping by my place when you get a free moment?"

Neko raised his eyebrow and asked. "Your place? Like where you live?"

"Are you finally going to fix that old place up?" Niko added and they both chuckled.

"Kind of. I want to add a bedroom. It will be more efficient and easier on Harlow if he has a place to stay in town." Lennard explained.

"Oh yeah, that's a great idea. He needs to get away from his drunk father anyway. Niko said.

"He's also the same age as Mika." Neko added and winked at his twin.

Lennard's stomach did a somersault at hearing the innuendo the twins were implying. Harlow would be a good catch for a young woman, since he was already a physician's apprentice. Even yesterday he would have agreed they would make a great match. Now the thought almost sickened him.

"Whatcha think old man? Wanna set the two of 'em up?" Niko asked directly.

"Wait, is he bonded?" Neko asked. "Could his dad even do it?"

"Shit. He'll for sure get with a girl before he gets bonded by that guy." Niko added with a chuckle.

"Well, is he?" They spoke in unison, both turning their heads towards Lennard.

Lennard, always taken aback by the way the twins could finish each other's thoughts, spluttered and tripped over his tongue. "Uh, well, I, I'm. I mean I don't think his father could do it. You guys are correct there." He scratched his head and turned to look down the street. "I had better get going guys, thanks again, and stop by anytime."

The twins both looked at him with a bit of confusion. They had known the man all their lives and had never seen him so frustrated or tongue tied. There was obviously something going on here they were not privy to. "Oh, Ok Len. See you later then. We'll drop by in the next couple days." Niko spoke as Lennard began walking away and waving.

"Thanks." Lennard waved and walked away quickly.

The twins both waved and watched as the fat old physician walked away almost tripping on his robe as he fiddled with the ties. There is something going on with Len and Harlow. Niko thought talked to Neko.

Oh definitely brother. Something about bonding. Neko responded mentally. You don't think Harlow already lost his bond and is going to start chasing the dragon do you?

No, if that were the case Lennard wouldn't build him a room. Niko replied and started walking towards the cart. Neko left in the other direction to gather the wood. It's got to be something involving Lennard as well. Do you think he would bond Harlow himself?

Both contemplated the idea as they worked on the separate chores in preparation for the night's pyre. The mental conversation ended with Neko stating, I think he already did.

Lennard made his way to the main street market, one shop in particular he needed to visit. The Kinder Tinder was a shop run by Mr. Kinet Minnit, a friend of his for many years. As he opened the door a chime rang out alerting the store owner of his presence.

"Ahh.. Lennard." Mr. Minnit greeted him as he entered. "Tis good ya see ya ole friend."

"It's good to see you as well Kinet." Lennard offered in greeting.

The Kinder Tinder was a spice shop. Most people stopped in to purchase exotic herbs to flavor their meals. Lennard often frequented the shop for this very reason, but today his needs were of a slightly different ingredient.

Chapter 5

He walked around the walls of the shop admiring the selection available today. A shipment must have arrived not long ago, for the shelves were packed with bundles of dried herbs or pouches of ground spices. He inhaled deeply of the amazing aromas, allowing the magic held within the exotic ingredients to infuse his body and refresh his soul.

He made his way to the counter with a small pouch of a pungent spice mixture labeled, "Golden Cuurrey" which he sat on the counter delicately. "Kinet, has the Mayor passed by yet?"

Shaking his small head, Kinet replied, "No, can't say I've seen 'im. Why, there be a problem?"

"Not a problem per say. He is meeting with the townspeople to tell them of the pyre for old Granny being held tonight." Lennard told the short man behind the counter. Kinet was a type of Fairy-folk known as a Luchorpan.

In general, the more diminutive races are descendents of Fairy-folk, which gives them access to more magical abilities. It is thought that these races were abundant in the past, but as the magical energy diminished over time, their numbers diminished as well.

When encountering or interacting with a member of the Fairy-Folk it is recommended to show awe and or appreciation for any magical traits or abilities displayed. It is also seen as good manners to bear a gift, or if you are interacting with a merchant, to make a purchase. This is especially true of Luchorpan, Dragonis, or Gnome.

Coins are usually an easy and appropriate gift, but if possible a more specific item can favor greater rewards. If a specific boon is being sought, then an equally important gift should be given. As an example; a sapling will be much more welcome to a Dryad than a gold coin.

If you are treating a Fairy-Folk person for injury or illness, be sure to give your gift first if possible, then ascertain the specific species before proceeding with treatment. Some species can be intolerant to certain metals or herbs. A sprite will have an adverse reaction to iron whereas it will speed the regeneration of a Dragonis. Be knowledgeable and aware of the species and treat them appropriately. Fairy-Folk can often curse a person upon death. - The Physicians Compendium, Species and Cultures - Dr. Ronet N. Steaker

Kinet's attire was always a grassy shade of green and he always wore a floppy hat over his brown hair. Typical attire for his species, although most were said to have large upright hats. Kinet was the only Luchorpan Lennard had ever met, so the hats he had heard described to him seemed far-fetched.

"Ahh.. the ole lass finally moved on." Kiinet said and hung his head respectfully. "May ye find wealth and prosperity in all your lives ta' come, dear Halan."

Lennard, out of respect for the small man's beliefs hung his head as well as he offered his short prayer. He let the sentiment hang in the air for a moment before interrupting the silence. "Her passing is why I am here, Kinet." Lennard looked up slowly and met the small brown eyes of Kinet looking back at him. "Do you happen to have any Aramanth?"

"I do indeed Lennard, but that's a mighty potent plant. Y'a'ren't planning anything dastardly are ya?" Kinet said and winked at the large physician.

"No, no. It's for a satchel I like to leave with the deceased body. It's to ward off evil spirits and grant safe passage for the soul of the person who's died." Lennard explained. 'The Aramanth is mixed with a few other aromatics and will bring a feeling of ease to all who smell the aroma as it burns. I have the other required ingredients already."

The Luchorpan nodded his head. "Ahh yes. I've heard of da concoction of which ya speak. Never been around to smell the aroma though." Kinet added.

"You have been a part of this community for what, four, five years now?" Lennard asked. "You are more than welcome to attend. We have been lucky enough to not have suffered more deaths in the time you have been here. Perhaps your presence has affected our luck?"

"Now don't ya be placin' all that superstitious nonsense about Luchorpans' luck on me boy." The small shop owner pointed his finger at Lennards chest and winked. "Or I might be grabbin da tail 'a someone to see if the rumors about it being so soft are true." Kinet said sarcastically. At least Lennard hoped it was sarcastic.

"Well, I can certainly verify the rumors of our tails are true." Lennard replied with a wink, his tail waving near his head as if in challenge.

Kinet's face broke open with a wide smile. "Oh, ye do play dangerous with dat tail, dontcha?"

The two laughed and Lennard placed his hand on the small man's shoulder. "How's Alanitsa?" He asked. "She off running another one of your errands again?"

"Aye lad. Off huntin' Greywood. It'll be nice and fresh for ya when next you need it." Kinet responded.

With the jokes and conversation aside, Kinet reached far under the counter's top and produced a wooden box with a lock. He removed a key from around his neck and slid it into the hole of the box. "There's not many whom I'd trust ta see where I hide me valuables, consider yourself a true friend now dat ya' know me secret." Kinet said as he turned the key.

The box opened up and Lennard peered down into it, but all he could see was a black void. Kinet reached inside the void as Lennard whispered humbly, "A spatial box. No wonder most people don't know your secret hiding place. The box alone could probably buy this town and four more just like it!"

"I don't know if it be all dat valuable lad, but it does have a fair amount of value to me." Kinet replied. His hand fished around for a moment then withdrew a long golden rod of Aramanth from the darkness inside the box.

The long stemmed plant emanated a small amount to golden light in the shaft, proving how fresh the product was. The flower at the top of the plant was in full bloom, six petals three of blue and three of orange alternated colors and spread open revealing the dark brown seed in the middle.

The Aramanth plant has many medicinal and magical uses. The stem with it's glowing aura, which is produced by the liquid held within, is primarily used to make potions and tinctures to heal the body. The petals' different colors each hold different uses. Generally speaking, the orange petals contain a strong astringent and can counteract a multitude of poisons and venoms. The blue petals contain mind altering chemicals. These are often made into illicit drugs, but when used properly can aid a person's mind in many ways.

The seed in the middle of the flower is considered one of the most toxic substances known. Even to touch it, hand protection is required. The seed is often crushed and turned into an oil which can be placed along the edge of a blade or on the tip of an arrow, ensuring a quick death to anyone unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end. When burnt though, the seed releases a powerful hallucinogenic. When used correctly, the gas causes a euphoric sensation without mild psychotropic effects. - The Physicians Compendium, Flora, Fauna, and the Fallacious - Gwendoli Hurmony

"It's beautiful." Lennard whispered as he saw it emerge from the darkness.

"Aye, she is indeed." Kinet responded. "She'll not come cheap though."

Lennard fished into his pocket and laid a handful of coins on the countertop without removing his eyes from the flower.

Kinet's face split wide with a grin and he said to his customer. "Would ya like me to wrap it up for ya then?

Lennard left the shop two silvers and four coppers lighter than when he had entered. The Luchorpan was a greedy little man, but actually gave Lennard a fair price, returning one silver and two coppers from what he had placed on the counter and threw in the Cuurey as thanks.

Lennard held the paper wrapped flower gently in his hands and made his way back to his clinic. As he pulled up his robes and trudged through the mains streets mud, the Mayor caught sight of him and beckoned to him with huge sweeping waves of his arm. Ugh, I just wanna go home and deal with my precious flower. Lennard thought to himself, but trudged his way towards Mr. Ansong.

"Lennard, Lennard, you should use the walkway down at the gates. The bath you just got out of has gone completely to waste now." The Mayor said as he helped Lennard to step up to the wooden sidewalk.

"Maybe you should build another walkway in the middle." Lennard huffed as he flicked his paws to the rear and removed the excess mud caught between his toes.

"That's a really good idea Lennard! Why didn't I think of that?" Mr. Ansong said. His eyes began wandering, inspecting the area, his finger came up to his mouth and he mumbled under his breath.

Lennard knew too well the Mayor's penchant for losing his attention, his mind exploring new ideas, and rolled his eyes at the man.

"Kyaro." Lennard spoke after a few moments. He waved his hand in front of the Mayor's face. "Did you need me for something?"

"Oh, yes, Lennard. Sorry about that. I think it would make a great deal of sense to build another walkway, maybe two." Mr. Ansong said and glanced down the street for a second before returning his gaze to Lennard. "But that's for another time. Yes, were you coming from the lumber mill by chance?"

"Technically I came from The Kinder Tinder, but I stopped by and talked to the twins before. They are getting things ready and little Mika is off telling the townsfolk to the East as you asked." Lennard replied.

"Excellent work." Mr. Ansong said and clapped his hand to Lenards shoulder. "Ooo, why so tight friend? You feel like you haven't slept in days, but you just took a relaxing bath right?"

Lennard's face flushed and he took a moment to gather his thoughts before answering. "Yes sir, the bath wasn't for relaxing and de stressing. More of a quick cleanse to remove any contaminants from the morning's activities. It's probably just the stress of the day built up."

"Oh yes, it has been a stressful day hasn't it?" The Mayor nodded along. "You should teach your apprentice how to properly massage, that way he could work all the knots out while you relax in your tub."

Lennard knew there was nothing hidden behind what the Mayor had said, but he couldn't help wondering if someone had seen something earlier and told the mayor. His mind quickly went back to his bathroom and its window. He distinctly remembered it being closed and the vine he called Charley obscuring the view. His anxiety level spiked, but calmed a little with his mental reassurance.

"That's a great idea Mayor." Lennard said in response. "Do you need anything else from me? I have something I need to finish at my lab before tonight's activities."

"Oh, no. I just wanted to see if the word was getting around is all." Mr. Ansong said. "I'll leave you to your work. See you tonight." He said and gave lennard a small wave as he walked along the sidewalk and left Lennard standing near an alley.

After Lennard watched Kyaro walk into Fironik's General Store He muttered to himself and started walking down the alley towards his clinic. "I am getting way too paranoid, and we haven't even done anything yet."

Harlow carried the portrait back into his room and loaded it into the clothing chest with a few other things he kept as precious. Books mostly, as well as the clothing which still fit. He had grown several inches in the last year as well as gained some weight from being able to eat properly. The changes in his physique left his wardrobe rather limited.

Luckily his most recent stash, a carved out section of a romance novel of his father's he had found, hadn't been touched in the frantic search. So he bit down on the sprig of Wenetta as he loaded his things. It didn't take long, and once finished he spun in the center of the room and surveyed the damage. It was still in a state of disarray, but he found nothing left which he couldn't live without. He had been able to pack all his worldly possessions into a single small clothing chest.

He closed the lid with a click and grabbed the side handle. "Oof.. this is heavier than I thought." He said as he hefted the chest into his arms. "Maybe I don't need ALL of my books?" he grunted and moved the chest into the living area. "I think you are gonna have to be pulled rather than carried."

With the idea of pulling the cart in mind, Harlow went looking around the house for something he could use to ease the burden of carrying the chest. He ventured out to the stables and found a wheelbarrow. It's wooden sides were cracked from years of neglect, but the frame still looked strong.

Harlow easily pulled the dry cracked wood from the frame. He then found some oil and applied it to the wheel. The protruding nails he either pulled or broke off with an old hammer he had found lying on the floor.

The entire process only took around half of an hour. He loaded the chest onto the frame and secured it with some twine. He then walked to the fireplace located centrally in the house. On the top of the mantle a single stone, directly center, stuck out from the others.

Harlow touched the stone and said his father's name. A small feeling of warmth entered his fingers where he touched the stone. Then before him an image of his father appeared. It was opaque and misty, like seeing a ghost.

The Image lay passed out on the floor of a house Harlow didn't recognize. His clothes looked stained and ripped, barely clinging to his body. At first, when Harlow viewed images of his father like this, he would become extremely concerned. Now it had happened so many times, the disturbing visage didn't phase him.

The magic used by the hearthstone allowed mental communication between members of the household, so even though his father was most likely passed out, he would hear Harlow's voice in his head. If he didn't wake up from the experience, which he rarely did, he would remember the conversation as a vivid dream.

Harlow spoke, saying the words out loud although it was totally unnecessary. "Father, this is Harlow. Are you awake?" He waited a few moments for a response. When there was no reply he continued. "Father, I am leaving this house, I have my things packed and will not be returning. I hereby relinquish my claim to this property and my ties to this house. Goodbye father."

There was a reason he had spoken out loud. By relinquishing the house to his father and ending his ties to the house, he would no longer be linked through the hearthstone. Once he released his fingers from the stone, he would no longer be attached in any way to this place and his father would be unable to contact him via the hearthstone.

He also lost any claim to the property when his father died, but that was never something Harlow wanted anyway. His father was a farmer. Apparently from the stories people had told of him, he was a great farmer. This was all before his mother died. He simply couldn't cope with the loss and turned to drugs and alcohol to numb the pain.

Being taught by Lennard, Harlow now knew there were many things which could influence the mind, medicines which could have helped him, but the time for that was far past and everyone knew it. With great sadness, even though he hated his father, Harlow spoke his mother's name and ended the image of him.

The image was replaced by the image of his mother. It was stored there in the hearthstone, but since she was no longer available to answer, a general image of her circled slowly around, unmoving. He had watched his father stare at this image for hours at a time. He would cry and drink and fall over. Then when he came to, he would reach up and do it all over again.

Harlow stared at the image for a few moments. "Goodbye mom." he whispered. Tears began streaming down his face. With a hitch in his voice he continued. "I really wish I could have known you more. I wish Father could have shown me how to be a man. I wish our lives would have turned out better, normal, like everyone else."

He sobbed, letting his emotions out. He held tight to the hearthstone, the image of his mother blurred by the tears. He continued speaking through the sobs. "I want you to know that I found someone. He is my teacher. I am not sure how everything will turn out. He didn't plan on this happening, neither did I. But it did and we love each other." Sniffing and drying his eyes with his other hand. "In the end, that's all that counts, right mom?"

The image didn't move or respond. It hung there in the air and twirled. Harlow whispered, "Goodbye." And removed his hand from the stone. The image dissipated.

When he was younger he often talked to the image. His father would be passed out or off somewhere getting loaded, and her image was the only thing he had to talk to. He didn't know his mother personally, but he knew her image and had treated it like she had been there with him. He would never be able to see her again now. His ties to this family were completely severed, and he would have to deal with that from now on.

He moved to the wheelbarrow and started to push it out the door, but stopped. He opened his clothing chest and removed the portrait. He hated his father, but when he let go of the heathstone and lost his only attachment to his mother, he for a brief moment felt the kind of loss his father must feel all the time.

He couldn't let his father get away with all the things he had done to make Harlow's life awful, but he couldn't bring himself to take this away from him either. He took the portrait over to the fireplace and set it inside. He wanted his father to know he could have burnt it, could have destroyed it and taken her away from him again.

He also wanted him to know that he didn't do it. He wanted him to know that he was more of a man than him. That he respected people's things and was moving on with his life.

Resolutely, he wiped away the tears with his arm, stood up and grabbed hold of the handles of the wheelbarrow. "I was wrong, you are gonna have to be pushed, not dragged." He said to his clothing chest and pushed it through the doorway.

As Lennard walked into his clinic door, he found he had a patient waiting for him. This was not an uncommon occurrence, and luckily he hadn't been gone long. "Welcome Jozel, how are you feeling today?

Jozel Karamini is now the oldest living person in Greenby. He was only a year younger than Granny, but his health had been declining rapidly of late and he frequently stopped by the clinic complaining of pains or ailments which he wanted Lennard to address immediately.

"I've been better." Jozel snapped. "Why weren't you here? It's daytime and business hours."

Lennard was used to Jozel's snippiness, but still didn't like being told off by the old man. "I am very sorry Jozel, but I had an errand I had to run." He paused and looked the man in the eyes before continuing. "Jozel, Granny died this morning and I have been assisting the Mayor with arranging the pyre for tonight."

The expression on Jozel's face changed from sadness, to glee before finally returning to annoyance as Lennard told him the news. "Tonight? The pyre isn't supposed to be held until the third day." The old man said with a little too much volume. "Why in all the realms would you want to hold the pyre the same day? That don't make no sense. How's everybody supposed to know?"

"I know, it's unusual." Lennard cut in. "But with the harvest festival next week, the Mayor decided that holding a pyre within a week of the festivities would spoil the celebration." He explained to the old man and placed his hand on the man's frail shoulder. "Besides, there's no official rules which state a pyre has to be on the third day, that's just a convenience really. Letting people get things ready at an easy pace."

Lennard led the old man into the recovery room and sat him on the couch while asking him what was ailing him today. "Well, now this news about old Granny has me upset." Jozel replied. "But I came in to get some more of your." he paused and his stare went vacant as he tried to recall the name of what he was looking for. "Your, stuff. The stuff I rub on my knees and shoulders."

Lennard knew exactly what he wanted and had anticipated as much. The old man practically bathed in the pungent ointment and reeked of it's use. "Lyan balm." he filled in for the old man.

"Yes. That stuff." Jozel exclaimed.

"No problem." Lennard replied and stepped away from the old man. "I'll go grab some for you."

He had only taken a step towards the lab before hearing the old man ask. "Where's that boy you have for such things, your fetcher?"

"He's off running errands for the Mayor as well." Lennard replied and walked out the door. He felt he was a patient and compassionate man, but there were always limits to those qualities in a person.

He set the wrapped Aramanth on the counter before grabbing a tin of the pungent ointment from the shelf. This was his last jar which meant he would have to make some more soon. Then he returned to the old man and handed him the tin. "Here you go Jozel. Will you be able to make it to the pyre tonight?"

Muttering something indiscernible under his breath before responding he said. "Yeah, I'll make it. Can't not say goodbye to old Granny."

"Good to hear." Lennard replied and once again patted the old man's shoulder. "Is there anything else you need today?" He knew he had made a mistake as soon as the words left his mouth.

"Yeah, one more thing." Jozel slowly stood, holding on to Lennards outstretched arm, and removed his tunic. "Put some of this on my back, I can't reach back there anymore."

The air expelled from Lennards lungs and he deflated. His shoulders slumped with resignation as he took the tin back from the old man. With a slight twist he opened the lid and a fresh wave of spicy minty aroma wafted up.

He dunked in a finger and wiped the medicinal salve over the old man's back. His fur had fallen out in patches revealing the wrinkly pink skin underneath. His spine was a visible ridge running down the center. It's curved bones showing the years and hard work the man had endured.

Lennard did feel sorry for this old man and made allowances for such needs, so took his time and massaged the ointment into what remained of the musculature surrounding the man's spine. He pressed in with his fingers and made small twists with his thumbs which stimulated blood flow to the area.

As he worked his way down the old man's spine he heard, "Don't you go touching my tail now. You're a swell enough fella, I suppose, but I ain't lookin' to get felt up by ya'."

"No sir." He replied. "I'm not looking to feel anybody up today either." He lightly chuckled at the old man.

"You know that boy of yours ain't gonna last much longer though right?" Jozel spoke. "He's gonna get felt up by someone soon and go chasing the dragon. His papa sure ain't in no state to bond him. Too bad that."

The words struck home more than the old man could know and Lennards hands suddenly stopped as the words; "felt up" were spoken. His brain automatically wonders if that is exactly what he had done. Had he just felt Harlow up, secretly hoping for a physical connection?

The thought was fleeting though and his true intentions shone through the mist of confusion the old man's words had evoked. He realized his hands had stopped moving and returned his focus to the massage he was performing.

I had no intention or desire to form a physical bond with Harlow. Lennard thought to himself. I knew it was a possibility, but minimal. No, my only intention was to offer him a chance at a normal life. He knew the thought was true, but the way he felt, so close to Harlow, and so quickly. It was more than he had anticipated, more than was normal, he thought.

He finished applying the ointment and Jozel pulled down his shirt. The old man actually thanked Lennard for the massage and left a silver coin in his hand. He hadn't known the depth to what he was talking about held such relevance in Lennard's life right now, but the words from Jozel as well as the Poldare twins showed him just how much attention was being placed on Harlow and his lives right now. The timing couldn't be worse.

Chapter 6

Although the wheelbarrow made things much easier, the weight and distance following the day's activities wore down Harlow's stamina quickly. His desire to leave his old house and get as far away as possible had sustained him for the last mile or so, but those feelings were diminished and the exhaustion of the day set in hard.

He was somewhat near the house of Mr. Gali, but was relatively certain the man and his wife would have left for town by now. Harlow was running late and the sunset which he had looked forward to witnessing earlier was in it's full awe inspiring beauty, but completely wasted due to Harlow's weariness.

He contemplated leaving the chest here for the night and returning in the morning. Partially harvested fields occupied this stretch of land, which provided no useful cover to hide his belongings. He would basically have to leave his things on the side of the road and hope no one decided to take them.

He really didn't have anything of true value in his chest. A couple changes of clothes and books. Books which he had devoured as a child. The lands they took him to and the stories of the amazing people, were his escape from the bad times he spent at home. Beyond anything it was these memories which he treasured.

He lifted the handles and made a few more steps forward, then dropped the wheelbarrow once again. His muscles refused to go any further, and quivered uncontrollably. With a huge sigh and a few tears he managed to move the wheelbarrow holding his chest of belongings to the side of the road.

He popped open the lid and removed a clean change of clothing, knowing he would have to attend the pyre tonight regardless. Then closed the lid and walked away. He hoped he would be able to recover his things tomorrow, but he held no high hopes. He knew how frequently the merchants and farmers passed by on this road.

Even his own weight seemed extreme as he plodded forward. The sun was low in the sky, a mere glow through the clouds now. The sky shot through with oranges and purples, and Harlow knew he would be walking in the dark soon.

The walls of the city were visible on the horizon looking like a dark wall or shadow. Hopefully there would be some lights aglow for tonight's pyre, but he wasn't sure of the traditions held during a pyre, this being the first he would have had the opportunity to attend.

Slow step after slow step he moved forward. As the sun finally set and the sky darkened, taking the colors with it, a large glow formed in front of him. As he watched, his feet moving methodically and without thought, the glow quickly turned into flames which jumped higher than the tops of the walls.

Harlow could clearly see his path into the town now, the flames of the pyre large and bright. His sense of responsibility chided him for not being back in time to see the entire ceremony. A second thought entered his mind then. Would Lennard wonder where he was?

Harlow had never really had the opportunity to be cared for in the way he wanted. He cared for others, but had no one to care for him, until now. He swallowed with an audible gulp, but his mouth was much too dry to create the saliva needed to lubricate the function properly, and the scraping of his throat added itself to the list of pains he was attempting his best to ignore.

A sound from behind Harlow finally caught his attention and he turned around just in time to jump to the side to avoid being trampled by the two large Equinulls pulling a wagon behind them. He landed with an. "Oomph!" and rolled to the side of the road where the stickers stung his skin as they entered his back and side.

"By the gods!" A voice called out above the sound of the clattering wooden wheels of the wagon. "Whoa."

Harlow wearily attempted to extricate himself from the sticker vine which ran along the ground here. His hands found more stickers each time he tried to push himself up. He was at wits end, this day had too many ups and downs, mostly downs.

His brain shut off, or rather shut off everything non essential. All emotion or pain were just gone. He felt nothing anymore. Time itself seemed to slow down as he stopped caring whether he injured himself more now, and pushed himself up from the ground ignoring the pain.

Once he was upright the farmer who was driving the wagon came up and asked him if he was ok. With an emotionless voice, which seemed much too deep to be his own, Harlow answered, "I'll be fine."

"I'm awfully sorry. I couldn't see ya until I was almost on top of ya. The glow from the huge fire in the city held all my attention." The farmer continued. "Do ya think everybody's ok in there?"

"All but the one who's in the fire." Harlow answered in the same low monotone voice he had before.

This answer took the farmer by surprise and he involuntarily took a step back before really looking at the fellow he was talking with. "Harlow? Is that you?" He asked skeptically.

Harlow turned and looked at the farmer. His hands and attention had been occupied in removing the thorns from his skin where he could reach. "Yes Mr. Darlan." Was all he said in response.

The Darlan house was located south of the city, so it was unusual for him to be returning from the West. He had delivered a large order to the tavern in Garnich which was the next town in that direction. He dabbled in brewing and would make deliveries to neighboring towns regularly. "Well, what do you mean by person in it?" Mr. Darlan asked.

Pulling a particularly long thorn from his hip and flicking it away Harlow responded, "Granny died, it's her pyre."

"Old Granny? Damn. How long ago, do you know?" Mr. Darlan asked the boy.

"This morning." Was all the response Harlow gave.

The farmer took a moment to process the information. "And her pyre is tonight? What happened to the three days?"

"Ask the Mayor." Harlow said and turned to begin walking again.

"The Mayor?" Mr Darlan asked in confusion. Then realized Harlow was walking away. "Hey, do you want a ride? It's the least I can give you for knocking you off the road." He added.

Harlow stopped dead in his tracks and took a moment to consider before answering the farmer. "Yes, that would be appreciated."

The ride was not comfortable, each bump driving the thorns still remaining in Harlow's skin deeper, but he was beyond caring or feeling anything now. His hands were still attempting to pry out the thorns which he could find as the two men drove into town.

Mr. Darlan drove as close as he could to the main street where the pyre burned high and bright. The area was filled with people, food, drink, and music. Unlike the somber occasion Harlow assumed this would be, the town gathered and celebrated.

"I see the physician over yonder, you should make your way to him. He'll have to remove those thorns for ya." Mr. Darlan spoke to Harlow and pointed to his right. "I'm gonna go find me something to drink." He continued and dismounted.

At the sight of Lennard, Harlow's callous exterior began to crack. He jumped down from the seat of the wagon and winced as he landed. He slowly began weaving his way through the crowd to where he could see Lennard talking to the Mayor.

Lennard's afternoon was spent preparing the talisman for the pyre being held at sunset. The Aramanth flower had to be completely processed or the individual ingredients would spoil, so that was his primary task.

He started with removing the seed at the center, using long tweezers he carefully extracted the poisonous seed and wrapped it in a small paper envelope marked with a bold red X, then moved on to the petals.

The next step was to remove the petals. The orange and the blue petals were separated then wrapped in paper. The blue petals needed to dry for exactly twenty seven days in order to achieve maximum potency. The orange petals only needed four days.

The last part was the stem. He extracted the glowing fluid using a needle and syringe. He then injected the glowing fluid into a stoppered vial. Once in the vial, the contents required agitation, so he placed the vial in the agitator.

The agitator is a device powered by an earth rune. The small machine resembled a small wooden box with holsters for vials inside. When activated, the box shook like a small ground-quake.

For it to have the proper effect, the seed would need to be ground to a powder, roasted, then suspended in Wenetta sap. The sap was then spread on the inside of a small cloth pouch and filled with other aromatic herbs. Along with providing a potpourri which elevated mood when burned, the talisman was said to keep the spirit from returning to the mortal plane. Necromancy had been outlawed many years before Lennard was born, but sometimes traditions changed meanings while keeping with the original ideas.

While the glowing fluid shook inside the agitator, Lennard proceeded very carefully to grate the seed into a shallow pan. He then took the pan and it's contents to a burner and toasted the powder. He kept the powder in constant motion in order to ensure even distribution of heat. Once the dark brown powder turned a pale yellow, it was ready to be added to the Wenetta sap.

The measurements were not as precise as one would think. As long as the amount of sap was less than the volume of a small vial, the mixture would succeed. So using a small funnel, Lennard poured the powder into the sap and stoppered the vial. He then rotated the vial upside down then right side up seven times, to ensure proper mixing.

"There we go." Lennard spoke aloud. "Time to get everything ready for tonight." He looked out the window and observed the sky losing brightness. Sunset wasn't far off. He hoped Harlow would be back soon, he could use the lad's help with the talisman.

"That is why the elevated walkway will have to be built by the businesses on either side of the street. The town can't force businesses to build and maintain something attached to their buildings you see. Mr. Ansong explained to Lennard, in his cups already. "But i can encourage them to, hey... isn't that Har, Har. Uh"

"Harlow!" Lennard exclaimed as he turned from the Mayor's drunken blathering to see his apprentice moving towards him. He looked at the young man with a huge smile on his face. He was a cup or two in himself already.

As Harlow came closer, Lennard's smile faded as he saw his new lover slowly staggering towards him as if dunk himself. There was something very wrong with the way he looked. His clothes were a mess of dried dirt and blood, his eyes were unfocused, and his feet dragged with each step.

Lennard lunged forward and grabbed Harlow, lifting him up to his arms in one fluid motion. "Harlow, what happened?"

Harlow focused on Lennards' face for a second and a hoarse "Help me." escaped his lips.

This was all the incentive Lennard needed to instantly sober up. He barreled through the townspeople, running straight to his clinic. People gasped when seeing the boy in his arms. Questions flew which he refused to answer as he made his way as quickly as his feet would carry him.

Lennard's heart beat hard in his chest, not only from the exertion, but from the claws of fear now wrapped around his heart. He had finally found someone who he loved and he wasn't going to lose him the same day he'd found him. Down the alleyway he ran paying no attention to the people occupying the dark corners. He dashed across the lonely street without pause and arrived at his clinic.

With a swift kick to the door, he sent it flying off it's hinges and onto the waiting rooms' floor with a large clatter. Turning right and waving his hand to the light rune as he entered the examination room, he gently laid Harlow down on the table.

Without hesitation lennard extended his claws and ripped the clothing from the boy's body revealing numerous bleeding wounds. Immediately he saw the reason for the wounds and cursed under his breath.

The thorns which now sprouted from Harlow's body were Iminit thistle. They lodged themselves into the skin and took root. Judging by the length of the new sprouts Harlow had fallen on the briar over an hour ago. This meant the removal process would be difficult, and judging by the number of visible sprouts Lennard grew seriously concerned for his lover's survival.

"You will not die on me." Lennard mumbled under his breath. He turned to the side instinctively to tell Harlow to fetch the items he needed and realization hit him even harder. No one stood there waiting for his orders because this time it was Harlow on the table.

Before he could move his head back to his suffering patient, movement caught his eye and the Poldare twins slid to a stop in the doorway. "Len, what's going on?" They spoke in unison.

A smile touched Lennard's lips and he told them what to fetch from the laboratory and where it would be found. Neko ran off to gather the supplies while Niko moved closer and looked Lennard in the eye. "He'll be ok. Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

The sincerity and compassion the brother's displayed brought a tear to Lennards eye. "Thanks Niko." He spoke in a cracked voice.

The next few hours were rough on everyone present. Neko was able to administer anesthetic so that Lennard and Niko could remove the thorns without Harlow twitching from the pain. Neko, while more used to brute strength demonstrated a very adept skill using his fingers delicately.

Several people stopped through the night to inquire about the boy's welfare. Only two people stayed the entire night with Lennard and the twins though. Mika, the twins' little sister, and Mrs. Mannather. She had brought the younger sister to the clinic after the people had dispersed from the pyre ceremony.

Mrs. Mannather had gathered food from Lennard's house and helped feed the men working on Harlow as well as herself and Mika. She then brought blankets and helped the young girl get comfortable on the couch in the waiting room. She now stood quietly in the examination room and gathered the thorns and bandages which littered the floor.

With the help of these great people, Lennard was finally able to remove the last thorn from Harlow's left hand as the sun peeked over the eastern horizon. He handed the twisted root to Mrs Mannather who held a bin full of the refuse.

"That's it. It's up to his will and fortitude now." lennard announced to the people there. He reached for a tin which Neko had brought but he hadn't used yet and popped the top off with his thumb. "I appreciate all the help you have given me, but totally understand and actually think it would be for the best if you all went home and left the rest to me."

An extremely pungent odor quickly filled the room from the jar in Lennards' hands as he told the others to go home and sleep. "This part is not pleasant, he said and crinkled his nose. I will keep you informed of his progress, I promise."

The twins and Mrs. Mannather all covered their noses and agreed. They patted Lennard on the shoulder and told him to get some sleep as well as they exited the clinic. Lennard truly appreciated their help, but wanted this part to be just between him and Harlow. The odorous salve was unpleasant, but Lennard had used it so frequently his sense of smell had become accustomed to it.

It took a while to spread the aromatic salve onto Harlow's body. Lennard paid special attention to the wounds left by the thorns. In the morning sunlight he double checked each hole for possible signs of plant growth.

Lennard's labor was finally over after slathering Harlow's body, now both of them needed rest and recuperation. Normally he would take the patient to the recovery room and monitor them as they slept. This time Lennard had another plan though.

Harlow was not a typical patient. He wasn't a typical person to Lennard anymore, so rather than leaving him alone to rest he carried the limp body across the alley to his house and set him down gently on his bed.

He locked the doors to his house, which is something he never did, and lay down next to his sleeping partner. He stayed on Harlow's right side, which had less of the puncture wounds so as not to disturb him. He laid his arm over the boy's chest and held him close.

Lennard told himself the position allowed him to feel any movement or changes Harlow may have while he slept, but in his mind he knew the position just felt good and knew Harlow wouldn't object. He closed his eyes and drifted into a light sleep. He did feel every move the boy made and woke with every twitch checking to see if Harlow was still ok.

Chapter 7

A light knock at the door woke Lennard from his dozing position. Harlow had been still for quite a while which allowed Lennard a small nap. From the light spilling in the window he guessed it was late afternoon.

He quickly extricated himself from the bed and grabbed his robe. He padded silently to the door and opened it slowly to see who was there. Neko stood there in the shade of the awning, a concerned look on his face.

Lennard opened the door and stepped outside to greet the brother. "Hello Neko."

The brother smiled and took Lennard by the shoulder. "How is Harlow doing? How are YOU doing?" He asked.

Lennard smiled meekly and motioned him towards the clinic. "He's still asleep, should be for the next couple days I would imagine." He walked forward and opened the door for Neko. "I unfortunately have a difficult time sleeping while looking over a patient."

"That's understandable, especially one who you know so well." Neko responded and entered the clinic at Lennards behest.

"I placed him in my bed, since I knew I wouldn't be using it, but my floor is much harder than I remember." Lennard obfuscated the actual sleeping situation. He led his visitor to the lab where he lit a burner and filled a kettle with water. "Were you and your brother able to get some rest? Thank you again by the way."

"We were glad to help, no thanks necessary." Neko responded. "I am actually here for a couple reasons though. I couldn't help noticing that your front door is no longer attached." He said with a quirky smile.

"Oh, yeah. I guess I used a little too much muscle when I opened it last night." Lennard said with an embarrassed chuckle. "Would you like some coffee or tea?"

"Tea for me Len, that sounds great. I also wanted to take a look at your house, get an idea of where the extra room would go." Neko continued.

Lennard had all but forgotten the happenings of yesterday afternoon. The conversations and interactions fleeing his mind with all the stress last night held. "Oh yeah. I had totally forgotten about that. You did say you would come over when you had time."

The two talked for a few minutes while the water came to a boil and the tea steeped. Lennard then led Neko inside the house. "I'm warning you, the aroma in there is still quite strong."

"Yeah, I could tell, it's like you bathed in it." Neko said with a smile and covered his nose.

Lennard flushed with embarrassment, not thinking of how he must reek of the ointment from laying with Harlow all night. "Oh, uh, sorry about that. I haven't taken the time to bathe yet. He held up his blood stained robe. "As you can obviously see."

Neko, unperturbed, followed Lennard into his house. There was an obvious look of disgust as he entered the house, the odor overwhelming, but he pushed through and followed Lennard as he showed him where he thought the room should go.

"If you could add a second story, I think that would be the most effective. Expanding in any other direction would begin encroaching on the neighboring lots." Lennard explained.

Neko nodded and kept his talking to a minimum, frequently glancing back to the bedroom where Harlow lay sleeping deeply.

"Ok Len, I'll work up some ideas to show you and bring them by in a few days, once this place has aired out some." Neko said with a small wink.

The two stepped back outside and Neko turned to stare Lennard in the eyes. He looked deep into them, grabbing his shoulders and staring at him uncomfortably.

"Uh, Neko?" Lennard stammered.

The uncomfortable staring continued for several more seconds before Neko finally spoke. "Lennard, I'm gonna be honest with you." The young man began. "You have always been open and honest with us until yesterday. I can't tell what you're trying to hide, but I know it concerns Harlow."

It felt as if the blood drained from him as he heard Neko all but accuse him of something underhanded. He could practically feel the wetness forming below his paws. "I, I don't."

"Stop Lennard. Don't compound the lie. You know me and Niko don't judge. Don't sully your reputation with us by lying now." Neko interrupted. "You are the person who pulled us from our mother's womb. You have healed our wounds both physically and mentally. Neither of us would have survived the loss of our parents without you. You have been like a second father to us ever since."

Lennard could feel the intensity and the truth behind Neko's words. He knew their lives had been difficult, he had done all he could do to help them, but it never felt like he had done enough. For Neko to express to him the way they felt, meant the world to Lennard. Tears streamed down his face with the emotions of the last few days.

"We have told you of our secrets Lennard, now unburden yourself." Neko whispered.

He looked deep into Neko's eyes, who's gaze was returned with nothing but caring and support. He knew the twins had a bond unlike normal people. They shared not only a connection while touching tails, but a psychic link which allowed them to communicate with each other at all times. It was how they could work and learn in ways no one else could.

Neko smiled lightly and brushed away the tears from Lennard's face. Lennard finally caved in. In a hushed voice so as not to be overheard, Lennard confessed. "I don't have a son, and Harlow. His dad would never be able to, to bond, so I..."

"Go on, spill it big boy." Neko said, trying to alleviate the tension with a small bit of humor.

"I bonded with Harlow yesterday."

"And." Neko prompted.

"Well, it, it didn't go as planned. The bond included a physical and then a spiritual element." Lennard continued. "I had no desires for him, no thoughts of him other than an apprentice." He looked at the ground. "I am not sure how, but the bond went both ways. We even shared a life vision."

Neko looked at the old man in astonishment. "A life vision?" He asked.

Lennard nodded, his eyes still staring at the ground, tears dropping down to the spot at which he stared.

"That's very unusual. You know it's supposed to mean you two are destined for something great don't you?" Neko asked.

More nodding and a small, "Mmhmm." came from the physician's throat.

Neko, feeling the man had gone through enough in the last two days to last anyone a lifetime, pulled the big man in and hugged him. "I told you there is no judgment with us. I am glad you told me, and I'm glad you have a bond mate!" He emphasized the last two words.

Lennard, understanding this man wanted only the best for him and Harlow lifted his head and embraced him in return. "Thanks Neko, and Niko. I know you're relaying everything to him anyway."

They both chuckled and Neko confirmed Niko's acceptance and joy as well. "I guess this means we'll have to find someone else to hook Mika up with though." Neko smiled, cuffed Lennard on the arm and said. "Now go get cleaned up. You stink, and probably rubbed off some of that stink on me."

With the truth now in the open and the two, or rather three, friends satisfied. Neko and Lennard parted ways. Lennard stepped back inside, while Neko walked back to his home where he promptly took an evening bath.

Lennard and Harlow were not interrupted by anyone else that evening and had a peaceful night, considering how close Harlow had come to death the night before. By the following morning Harlow's breathing had become much less labored and he started twitching and spasming. This would normally concern the physician, but with as much damage as Harlow had endured, followed by the heavy sedation, the movement showed the young man still had use of his muscles.

Lennard finally allowed himself a long soak in his tub with the windows open to help remove the stagnant air inside the house. Harlow could still encounter some complications, but the possibilities of him dying were minimal.

As he gently worked the soap into a later he recalled the awkwardness Harlow had shown when asked to wash his back. It wasn't obvious at first, but Lennard had a good idea why his apprentice sat the way he had and rushed through.

He wondered then if he should have seen Harlow's reaction as a warning, an omen so to speak. He had lost all pretense of believing in superstitions long ago, but by experiencing the vision after, he couldn't help but wonder if there were some old truths he should pay more attention to.

A light knock on the door startled him from his reverie. He had finished cleaning himself and was luxuriating in the tub attempting to get the most out of the remaining hot water. "Evey time now!" He said with a curse under his breath.

He didn't want to yell across the house for fear it would disturb Harlow, so he quickly climbed from the tub and grabbed the clean robe he had hung out. "I'm going to have to let this dry again now." He walked to the door and cracked it open to see who was there waiting for him.

When not seeing anyone standing at his door, he first began to question if he had heard the knock at all, then a, "Hhh, Hmmph." the obvious sound of someone clearing their throat to be noticed. The sound came from near his feet. Lennard's head tilted towards the ground to see a floppy hat wearing Luchorpan standing below him averting his eyes.

It took Lennard a moment to realize the diminutive man's stature placed his eye level just below Lennards waist. In his hurry, the fabric of the robe hadn't properly surrounded him and had created a gap from the belt tie down to the hem where his naked wet body was completely exposed.

"Oh!" Lennard squeaked and hurriedly pulled the fabric over. "Didn't know you were here for a show did you?" He awkwardly chuckled. "I was just in the bath. I. Am guessing, uh, you could tell."

"Indeed Lennard." I was warned ya might be on the smelly side, so I'm glad ya decided to clean yerself, but I could a done without the visuals." Kinet said. He moved his hand from his eyes slowly. "One a the dangers of be'un a Luchorpan living in a town of Canursids I suppose."

Lennard was flushed, but gave the man a light chuckle before asking why Kinet had stopped by. "What brings you to my house Kinet? Are you injured?"

The clinic stayed open during daylight hours but if the door was locked and the person had a serious injury they were supposed to visit Lennard at his house. This was standard knowledge for the people of the town, so Lennard assumed Kinet had come due to an injury. He wasn't the type of person to throw dinner parties, although he did enjoy attending them.

"Naw, lad, I be fine. I heard you're harboring the boy here and wanted to offer me assistance in his healin'." Kinet said.

Lennard had not known the man had any background in the healing arts and looked at him with a puzzled look.

"No, not healing like you do lad. Luchorpan's have a bit o magic in 'em, leftover from the days of Fae ya might say. Ooh. that rhymed." The man said and smiled at the rhyme he had just made. "I can't do this often my friend, but I do think I can help the young'un if you'll let me."

This took Lennard back. He knew the Luchorpan were descended from the Fairy-folk of old, but he had never heard of them having magic beyond the typical runes and traditions still practiced today.

"I, um, why? If I may ask. Has Harlow done something special for you in the past or something?" Lennard asked.

"Not really. I offer not so much for his benefit, but yours. You've been an honest and frequent customer o' mine since I first got here. I know the lad means a lot to ya, so by helpin' him, I'd be repayin' you in a way." Kinet explained. "Although seeing what ya got danglin' there, maybe I should see if I could whip somethin' up to tighten up the old skin? Raise the raisins so to speak?" The small man chuckled.

Upon hearing that Kinet considered him a friend, Lennard felt a rush of gratitude and caring for this small statured man. When he made a joke about his low hanging fruit, the feeling diminished and the blood rushed back to his cheeks.

"I told you, I was just in the bath. They are supposed to... relax in warm water." Lennard sputtered.

"There's relaxin' then there's givin' up hope lad." Kinet chuckled and swatted Lennards leg as he let himself in. "Where's the boy at, saggy?"

All thought left Lennard's mind hearing the nickname. He knew it was going to be spread around town like juicy gossip in the rumor mill. He would be called "Saggy" from here on out. Mostly behind his back, but to his face by his friends. It would be like their term of endearment for him.

He sighed as his brain caught back up to the present. "The door on the left." He said sourly.

Lennard followed the small man into the room and plopped down on the end of the bed. He glanced at Harlow and could tell he was fine. "Kinet? Would you mind not telling people about the.. ya' know... saggy?"

"Ha!" Kinet exclaimed. "You're wantin' me ta keep such a juicy bit a information to me-self?"

He wasn't sure, but it seemed the Luchorpan accent grew more distinctive the longer the two of them talked. "I would appreciate it, yes."

From the side of the bed Kinet looked at Lennard with an appraising eye, one eyebrow lifted as if to analyze an object's value. "It'll cost ya." He said.

With a sigh and wondering if it would really be so bad to be called "Saggy" Lennard asked, "How much?"

The wise merchant had Lennard by the, well, the saggy parts, and knew it. "A favor." Kinet spoke with reverence.

"What kind of favor? Is that all?" Lennard asked in return.

"A favor, don't know what yet, but when the time comes you'll do me a favor without question. Agreed?" The Luchorpan said, all humor gone from his voice.

The startling change of tone took Lennard by surprise and he had to rethink what a favor could mean. Would the little man ask him to do something illegal? Kill someone? He couldn't agree to anything like that. "As long as the favor doesn't go against my ethics. I'm not going to hurt or kill anyone. I won't steal, I."

The small man cut him off. "No, no nothin' like that. I wouldna' make ya break the laws or hurt someone. You have certain advantages over me, and I will wan'ta take advantage a that someday."

Fears abated, Lennard thought the favor would be something involving his greater height or weight from how the Luchorpan described the favor. "Ok, I agree. One favor."

Kinet's small hand extended and Lennard tried his best not to crush the small thing, encompassing it completely with his large grip. "Good. Now then." Kinet said and removed a gold medallion from the inside pocket of his jacket.

Kinet held the medallion over Harlow's chest, he had to climb onto the bed to be able to reach properly, and began chanting. "Kierisintima ackramany bo estemeni..." The words foreign to Lennards ears. The chant continued and a pale blue glow began to encircle the round coin shaped pendant.

Lennard watched enthralled as the small man repeated the chant and the glow brightened until the entire room was bathed in a pale blue hue. Lennard chastised himself for not asking Kinet how the healing worked or what it was supposed to do but dared not interrupt the spell.

Kinet's voice grew louder and with a final word, spoken with more power and louder than the rest, he touched the medallion to Harlow's chest. Kinet's eyes glowed the same pale blue as he opened them. They watched as the illuminated energy stretched from the medallion down into Harlow's body.

A twinge of fear overtook Lennard, but he had to trust the little man's word and intentions now. Any interruption could cause the spell to go awry, and with this much power making it's way into Harlow's body, the consequences could be fatal not only to Harlow, but all three of them.

The pale blue glow of the spell entered the body and spread throughout, tracing the veins where blood flowed. It took several seconds for the transfer to complete, then Harlow's body arched up. Lennard began to move forward but stopped when a dark green mist oozed from Harlow's mouth and wound it's way back up to the medallion. It gathered and pulsed around the golden pendant, a cloud of murky green mist.

The process took maybe a minute before Harlow's back relaxed and his body settled back down to the bed. The mist slowly diminished and finally stopped coming out of Harlow's mouth, the ring of it circling the pendant so large it almost touched Kinet's hand as he held the chain above.

Kinet's eyes still glowed pale blue, and as the last bit of mist coalesced into the dark spinning cloud surrounding the medallion, the Luchorpan's eyes refocused on it. With a barely audible sound, but like a wail of infinite pain and sadness heard from miles away, the mist began burning off. The cloud of dark green mist caught aflame and disappeared, leaving only particles of pale blue which floated off and vanished.

Lennard looked on in awe, his jaw hanging open. He had been witness to several small spells while studying to become a physician and even knew a few cantrips, but he had never seen a spell use so much raw magic as to have the energy become visible.

Spells like this were spoken of as myth, from times long past. The ability to cast such spells was considered to have been lost. The energy required for such spells, no longer available. But as Lennard had just witnessed, the power was still there somehow.

"How, how did you?" Was all Lennard could force out. His brain was still stunned from the display.

Kinet fell to his knees then turned his back to Harlow's body and leaned back against him. He breathed deep and slow, recovering from the effort he had just expended before answering Lennard's question.

"You're wondering how I was able to use so much energy? Kinet spoke, all hints of an accent gone. This trinket here, it's ancient and gathers energy constantly. With the right knowledge, anyone can use it."

The words went in one ear and out the other. Lennard understood what the Luchorpan had said, but the meaning and gravity of the words didn't sink in. He was more focused on Harlow, who was slowly regaining consciousness.

"Le, Lennard? Harlow slurred.

Hearing Harlow's voice brought Lennard out of his stupor and he lunged forward, practically leaping over the bed rail. He pounced on top of his love, careful not to allow his weight to crush him. He wrapped Harlow in a huge embrace. Any thoughts of restraint or Kinet's safety were gone. In this moment he and Harlow were all that existed.

He looked into Harlow's weary eyes and saw relief instead of pain. There was a bone weary exhaustion still gripping the young man, but a glimmer of hopefulness as well. Before Harlow could speak again, Lennard spoke directly to him, "I love you." Then pressed his muzzle onto Harlows and kissed him deeply.

Lennard had decided the time for holding back was over. He had questioned his feelings and the possible consequences of a relationship with Harlow. It only caused him to hesitate and flounder. But with the twins' acceptance, Lennard had allowed himself to be in love and to embrace his bond. He vowed to himself he would tell Harlow as soon as possible, damning all the consequences.

So as soon as Harlow had shown some consciousness Lennard took it upon himself to fulfill his vow. He kissed the boy passionately, but gently. It was a short kiss, Lennard not wanting to add anymore stress to Harlow's recovery, but it relayed all the fear and stress he had dealt with over the last two days along with all the compassion.

Harlow kissed him back and as their mouths released Harlow whispered hoarsely, "I love you too." He felt Lennards body press against him. He had some fear of injury when Lennard had pounced on top of him, but now he relaxed and Lennard's weight pressed down on him comfortably. He was acutely aware of a certain part of his body which now reached up to meet Lennard. Lennard scooted his body to the side so as not to continue pressing into Harlow's body, a smile and nudge showed him that Lennard was well aware as well.

Kenit, seeing the huge beastkin flying over the bedrail, quickly ducked to the side to avoid being caught up in the embrace. The rapid movement left him dizzy so he remained lying next to the two as they kissed. He was a little confused at the display, but was getting used to seeing these Canursids do strange things, so decided to wait until he was more recovered before moving again.

He wasn't the type of person who went all crazy about furry creatures. This was probably why he was able to live and strive in this place for so long. But the soft fur of the two men rubbing up against his arm tickled: in a good way. The warmth they exuded felt great, almost like being covered by a warm blanket, and he thought he could finally understand the appeal a person could have towards the furry races.

When Lennard moved to the other side of the bed, removing his nice warm arm from Kinet's space, he decided he had probably recovered as much as was needed as well. Although he wouldn't mind being snuggled up in a nice warm blanket again.

He pushed himself up and used the boy's body as a brace for his hands. Then turning to push himself up to his feet, his head almost bumped straight into the object pitching the blanket up just below the boy's midsection.

"Ugh, oh, well..." Kinet stammered. "Sorry 'bout that, or maybe congratulations?"

Lennard reached over and assisted his small friend with his hand. Kinet could tell he was completely flushed in the cheeks, but he laughed with a light chuckle and assisted Kinet to his feet.

"Kinet." Lennard started. I don't know how."

"Now stop right there ya big oaf. You know very well how to repay me, we shook on it." Kinet interrupted.

"Yes, but I mean the favor can be repayment, but if you had not come I wouldn't have known what you could do. I wouldn't have known to ask. Now..." Lennard replied. "I am sure you don't share this ability with everyone. Why me, or rather him, or us?" He wasn't quite sure how or what to say at the end and became tongue tied.

Kinet just looked at Lennard, then raised an eyebrow before speaking. "Ahh, ok. I can'na tell ya much because I don' know much. I felt somethin' stir, in the energies, the other day and knew it had ta be somethin' a do wit' you two." The Luchorpan waved his hand over the two Canursids. "Bein' part Fairy-folk, an not the way you two are apparently." He spoke this last part with a wink. "I can sense when things importn' happen around me. When this lad came back int'a town and was all but dead the energies told me I would need ta help."

He continued his story after a curious look from Lennard, Harlow had fallen back to sleep. "You two are importn' in some way. I can'na see why, but the energies around ya speak a change and importn'ce. You two are destined for somethin' great. At least dats' what me Granny woulda said." This last bit he added a thick accent to and chuckled afterwards.

Lennard was at a loss. He couldn't deny the vision he and Harlow had shared was extremely unusual and rare, but he couldn't believe it held some great portent. He was just a small town physician. He did his job, came home to an empty house, and fell asleep early. His life couldn't be important. Harlow was just an apprentice. A kid the townspeople pitied and looked out for. They weren't some great adventurers or something.

Lennard shook his head and laughed lowly. "No, that can't be right." He said. "Me and Harlow, some important destiny? Naw. Not us. We're a little different, I'll grant you that , but nothing special." He looked at his sleeping lover, his chest moving up and down steadily. "Not us."

"Believe what ya like, Lennard. Only time will tell." He said and slid from the bed.

Kinet began making his way to the door when Lennard came back from his reveries. "Oh, Kinet, wait." he whispered loudly to the small man. He pushed himself off the bed, trying his best not to disturb Harlow and walked over to the diminutive man.

"Can you tell me what that dark mist was that came out of Harlow?" Lennard asked and gestured to Kinet to sit at the couch. "Can I get you some tea or something to eat?"

"You can, but tha's not the favor I'm asking of ya." Kinet said and pointed his finger at Lennard's belly.

"No, of course not." Lennard set to the kitchen and activated the fire rune. He then filled a kettle with water. Opening his cupboard and icebox he realized he didn't have much in the way of food at the moment. "Would some cheese and bread be ok? It appears I need to do some shopping. Oh, and a pickle!" Lennard grabbed the items and began preparing them for the two of them.

"I suppose it'll do." Kinet said after climbing his way onto the couch. "You need some variety of furniture aroun' here, Not everybody is as big as you, Lennard."

The two of them shared the improvised meal and some Gansing tea with Hinager root. The meal was not the fare Lennard would have chosen to share with his friend, but it was filling enough.

"Now, little man." Lennard said and gave Kinet a crooked smile. "Tell me about that dark mist stuff."

Kinet sat back, his feet up and his back against the rear cushion. He held his teacup in both hands, the cup being sized for a Canursid, not a Luchorpan. "I'm not sure what to tell ya Lennard. It must'a been some kind a toxin." Kinet took a sip before continuing. "The spell is a general healin' and cleansin' spell. It's simple, but one a the most effective I know."

"So you know more spells then?" Lennard asked. "How often can you cast them?"

"Now Lennard, I can' a go givin' away all me secrets." The Luchorpan scolded. "I'll tell ya though, it'll take over three years ta gather that much energy again."

Lennard felt even more gratitude towards his small friend at learning the time he had just expended to save Harlow.

"I needs be off Lennard. I've some business to take care of this evening. A pint or two a business." Kinet said with a large smile. Lennard saw his friend to the door and thanked him again before closing and locking it once again.

The Gansing tea had perked Lennard up, so he straightened up his house and ran to the markets to purchase some food for when Harlow woke up again. He returned home, arriving just before sunset. After putting away his groceries, he began prepping for supper, making enough for two in case Harlow woke up.

He started by chopping root vegetables, placing them in a pot with some sausage. The sausage was a sweet herbaceous blend made by the Larata family. They raised Elboar on their land and provided butcher services for the community. Their farm was located on the east side of the town, downwind, for which the people of town were grateful.

With the sausage cooked through and a nice layer of fond accumulated on the bottom of the pot, he added a small amount of water and used a wooden spoon to lift the layer of flavor from the bottom of the pot. Once the water turned a dark shade of brown, he added more water, some salt, and a mixture of fresh herbs he had chopped. The stew came to a boil and he turned it down to simmer, placing the lid loosely atop.

With dinner simmering, Lennard checked on Harlow again. The young man had moved to his side, but was still fast asleep. The odor coming from the bedroom was quite potent. A mixture of urine, sweat, and blood. Luckily Harlow's bowels had released in the examination room where Mrs. Mannather promptly washed it down the drain.

Still, with Harlow on his side, Lennard took the opportunity to pull up the bedding and let the mattress air out on the side now unoccupied. He wedged the bedding behind Harlow's back to prevent him from rolling backwards and applied a mixture of Belmon juice, Nettem leaves, and water. The mixture immediately sinking into the mattress and removing the odors.

As Lennard gently rolled his sleeping lover back over to the now remade said of the bed, Harlow opened his eyes and smiled up at Lennard. "I, ca." Harlow began then coughed, his throat completely parched.

Lennard set him back down on the clean side of the bed and grabbed the glass of water he had on the table at the side of the bed. He tipped the glass up for Harlow to sip. The liquid coated Harlow's mouth in a way nothing ever had. He swallowed the offered liquid again and rejoiced at the return of the life sustaining water passing down this throat.

"Not too much. You'll need to take it easy at first, let your stomach get used to having something in it again." Lennard told Harlow as he pulled the glass from Harlow's hungry lips. "I'm glad to see you're awake. You had us all scared."

Having some moisture now in his mouth, Harlow attempted to speak again. "Us?" He managed to get out.

A large smile crossed Lennards face as he told Harlow about the twins and Mrs. Mannather's assistance. "That's enough talking for now. We both have stories we need to tell each other I am sure, but first, do you think you could eat?"

With a nod and a smile Harlow relayed his hunger to the physician and Lennard laughed. "I will take that as a yes." Let me finish up with the bedding then I'll go get us some stew." he proceeded to tell Harlow the ingredients he had added to the stew and where he had purchased them while removing the soiled bedding, adding the odor removing concoction to the mattress, and pulling the clean bedding over the mattress.

"Oh, I am getting too old for this." Lennard grumbled as he stiffly stood upright and stretched his back. "This is your job young man. I'm not gonna let you just lay there and relax anymore, prepare to get your ass to work." he pointed mockingly at Harlow and winked.

Harlow chuckled but the laughter brought with it more coughing. Lennard pointed at the glass, now well within Harlow's reach. "Can you be trusted to not drink it all?" He asked.

Harlow nodded and reached out to grab the glass. His grip wasn't tight enough though and the glass tumbled to the floor. "Ugh..." Harlow grunted.

"There you go making more messes for me to clean up while you just lounge about." Lennard said exaggeratedly, waving his arms in the air. Seeing this barb didn't land well with the young man, he quickly changed tone. "Hey, don't worry about it. It takes time to heal and recover."

After cleaning up the spilled water, Lennard fetched another glass for Harlow to sip on, and took the soiled bedding outside to air out before washing. Lennard came back in and unlidded the stew pot and a cloud of richly aromatic steam washed over his face. His stomach gurgled in anticipation.

He cut a couple slices of bread which he bound in a cloth napkin and filled two bowls with the hot stew. With hands full of soup and a napkin of bread in his mouth, Lennard gingerly stepped back into the bedroom and set the food on the bedside table.

Lennard grabbed the extra pillows and propped Harlow up against the headboard before taking a bowl of soup and stirring it with the spoon and blowing on the top. Harlow smiled at the way his lover doted on him. After a moment the spoon rose from the bowl and Lennard blew on the spoon before gently bringing it to Harlow's lips.

"Tell me if it's too hot, and we can wait." Lennard said while Harlow sipped the savory broth from the spoon.

The hot broth sent shivers down Harlow's spine. He rarely ate anything but leftovers or an occasional meal from one of the taverns, so to have this freshly made stew after not eating for days made his entire body flush with enjoyment.

"Oh Lennard, this is SO good." Harlow informed his partner after another spoonful of the amazing broth.

The big man smiled widely and blew on another spoonful for his favorite patient. He had purposefully served Harlow only the broth so far. He needed to gain his strength back before adding substance for his stomach to digest. "It's nothing, just good ingredients. I'm glad you like it."

Lennard continued to feed Harlow until he finished his bowl, then spooned him more broth from his own bowl. Having such a good appetite was a great sign of how well Harlow's recovery was coming along.

After finishing with their meal, Lennard washed up the utensils and returned to the room carrying assorted bandages and ointments. "It's time to change your wound dressings." he informed Harlow. "But first, we need to get you cleaned up."

Harlow was feeling much better after eating and looked forward to getting in the tub again, especially with Lennard there as well. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and smiled up at Lennard. "Your soup did wonders for me." He said and scooted to the side of the bed.

Curious as to how well Harlow would do, and how much the incredible spell had done for him, Lennard stood close, but allowed Harlow to shakily try and stand. He made it to his feet, but then promptly fell back to the bed.

"I guess I'm not all the way better yet." Harlow said with a hint of mealcholy.

"Nor should you be." Lennard assured him. "It's amazing you are were able to move yourself to the side of the bed, let alone stand on your own already."

With an easy move, Lennard pulled Harlow up off the bed and into his arms. His bulging biceps, masked under the soft gray fur, flexed underneath Harlow. He could feel the power held within his lover's arms. His own muscles betrayed him right now, but he looked forward to the days when he could aspire to be as strong as his loving partner.

Lennard carried his patient into the bathroom and set him on the commode while filling the tub. Harlow knew this would be a good time to take care of his personal business, but his stomach was still empty so all he could manage was to make some water.

Lennard returned and extended a claw, using it to carefully slice through a bandage on Harlow's shoulder. "Let's see how they are doing." He said.

The bandage dropped to the floor and there was a pause while Lennard leaned in close, then sliced through another bandage. "Is everything ok Lennard?" Harlow asked meekly. His wounds were primarily on his side and back, so being able to see what Lennard was seeing was not possible.

Another bandage fell to the floor, then another. Harlow was growing concerned, was there an infection? Had the thorns left some form of toxin? "Lennard?" He squeaked.

"Oh, yes." Lennard allowed his focus to return to the patient rather than the wounds. "I have never seen anything so amazing Harlow." He said and picked up Harlow's bandaged hand. He sliced through the bandage and revealed where a wound used to be.

The skin was still pink and soft and the hair was still missing, but the wound itself had closed completely. "This looks as if this happened more than a week ago." Lennard pointed out, lightly touching the pink flesh on Harlow's hand.

Harlow felt a pressure and a slight sting at the touch, but as the girthy digit moved away, he saw his skin. Fully healed over, pink and hairless just as Lennard had said, but intact. Harlow wasn't a physician, but he had seen enough injuries and scars to realize just how much healing had happened. "This was the spell that Kinet did?" He asked.

"Yes, I have no other explanation for this kind of fast healing. The energy he used was amazing, but I wouldn't have believed it would have this much effect if I wasn't looking at these wounds myself." Lennard replied and sliced through another bandage, checking the wound below to make sure it had healed like the rest.

He continued to remove the remaining bandages and verified to his astonishment the healing had affected each equally. Lennard then gathered the used rags and set them in a garbage bin before disrobing and hanging his clean robe on the hook near the door.

Chapter 8

This was the first time Harlow had seen his lover fully nude without feeling awkward and embarrassed, so took in the details of the man's body. He had noticed earlier the white patches of fur at the top of Lennard's thighs, but he now noticed the fur around his manhood was lightening the same way as the fur on his muzzle.

Lennards paws were enormous compared to his own, easily twice the size. As the saying goes, large paws equal a large... Well, Harlow could confirm the saying was accurate now. Lennard probably didn't have the length of Harlow's own, which was standing at full attention now, but the girth and weight were somewhat intimidating.

Lennard smiled as Harlow took in the view and even sidled to his right and raised his arm in pose for the boy, which garnered a giggle. He didn't want to make this tub time into a sexual encounter, only because Harlow needed to rest and heal, but he yearned for it. So to get things moving in the right direction he moved up to his partner and swept him up into his arms again.

"I'll scrub you clean, you just relax." Lennard spoke to Harlow who he held gently in his arms. "And you're in no shape for any nonsense today." He continued and pointed with his eyes and muzzle to Harlow's engorged manhood. "Not that I don't want to though." He confirmed with an upturned corner of his mouth.

Harlow was somewhat disappointed, but also knew Lennard was correct. His body may be healed much more than either of them thought possible, but he couldn't even muster the energy to stand on his own. Although the one part of him which had no problem standing on its own refused to be dissuaded.

Lennard climbed the steps up to the tub then lowered himself and Harlow in without issue and with a grace belied by his bulk. The hot water surrounded them both soothing to Harlow's body, but the heat from the water caused a slight sting on the newly formed skin on his wounds.

He inhaled sharply at the sting and Lennard froze. "What is it?" he asked.

Through gritted teeth Harlow replied. "The water is a little hot on the new skin is all. I'll get used to it though." By the end of the sentence his raw nerves were acclimating to the new sensation and the stinging eased turning into a comfortable warmth.

Lennard had wondered how the water would feel on newly formed skin, but also knew the temperature, while hot, wasn't enough to cause damage. He also knew the hot water would open up the skin's pores and allow the healing herbs he had placed in the water to do their work.

He continued lowering them into the water and set Harlow down where he could sit with his back against the side of the tub. "Comfy?" he asked.

"Very." Harlow replied and all but melted into the water. He closed his eyes and let the aroma of the plant filled room fill his lungs. He had bathed often here at Lennards request. Only twice in Lennards company, but on each occasion he grew more astonished at the way the hot water and the plant life accompanied and assisted in creating the perfect environment for relaxation. Even his protuberance waned for the time being.

Lennard took up the soap and started at Harlow's feet, drawing them from the water and lathering them in turn. He worked his way up the legs then skipped the middle to wash Harlow's torso. With Harlow's assistance he poured water over his head and cleaned his cute little face, stealing a kiss or two while doing so.

Once finished there, Lennard asked, "Is it ok if I wash your more private areas?" He knew he really didn't need to ask, but wanted Harlow to know he respected him. Thus far he had avoided even touching the boy's groin area, wanting to make absolutely certain this decision was what Harlow truly wanted.

Harlow opened his eyes and smiled up at his lover. "Of course, just don't poke your eye out." His smile turned into a smirk and he winked scandalously.

Lennard chuckled and kissed the smirk off of Harlow's face before moving down and cleaning his groin. Lennard had obviously seen and touched this area while removing the thorns, but hadn't taken notice of the details on purpose. Treating Harlow like a patient rather than a lover.

Now he had permission and was going to take in the details. Harlow was still a young man, barely seventeen years old. His shaft and testicles were pristine, not yet suffering the abuse of adulthood. There was no sag, no excess, just a skin pulled tight around the twig and it's berries.

As he washed and rinsed Harlow's groin, making sure he got the soap up in between the cracks, he thought of when he was this age and how he had frequently dreamed of being with someone. Most Carursids mated with a member of the opposite gender, but before taking a mate, sexual encounters were varied and frequent.

Lennard's youth had been spent on a distant farm and didn't include sexual experiences with others until he moved to Nayen Harbor to attend university. Which gave him several years with no one but himself to satisfy his urges. Here now too in his adult life, since up until now he hadn't found a mate, he often took care of business on his own.

He felt somewhat sorry for Harlow in that regard. This bond wouldn't necessarily prohibit him from seeking other partners and experiences, but unless he (Lennard) was unable to or unwilling to fulfill the physical needs of the bond, there would be little to no desire for Harlow to pursue anyone else.

With a mind full of speculations and worry once again, Lennard finished up rinsing Harlow off and said to him. "Now the back." Showing none of the internal debate occupying his thoughts.

Harlow sat forward and Lennard slid his body in behind him, giving him access to his back. This is where the majority of Harlow's wounds were located and they both knew it would be a more tedious place to get clean.

With Harlow leaning forward, Lennard lathered up the boy's fur and began working out the dried blood and dirt. He tried his best to keep from rubbing too hard on the hairless spots, but more than once felt a wince coming from the boy sitting in between his legs.

Lennard had to focus on his job: applying the right amount of pressure, using only a small tip of his claw to break apart the scab, massaging the area around the wound to stimulate blood flow. Because without this focus he would literally have a "hard" time dealing with Harlow in such a position.

As it was, Harlow's was unsure where to place his tail and it frequently bumped and rubbed against Lennards sensitive areas. If Harlow did this on purpose he wasn't sure, but had his suspicions.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Lennard had removed the grime from Harlow's back and could allow himself to relax and clean himself. First though, he wanted clean water.

He extricated himself from the amazing position they were in and he drained the tub, pushing the debris down the drain before refilling it. He apologized to Harlow for the cold air, but the boy just shrugged and thanked him for caring.

Unlike most other beastkin races, Canursids are fond of water and being clean. This trait is also apparent in races whose heritage animal is more aquatic, such as the Lutrinads and Cygnals.

Canursids will frequently bathe or stay immersed in water for several hours at a time. This time is often spent grooming, relaxing, or mating. The mating rituals of Canursids can often be completed while dry, but due to the reduction in friction produced by water, it is oftentimes performed during submersion. The water when hot also reduces rigidity and allows the Canursids to better control and utilize their tail. - The Physicians Compendium, Mating and Child Rearing - Dr. Elizza Parranty

Once the tub was refilled and the water clean, Harlow beckoned Lennard back to the position they were in before. Lennard hesitated, knowing without the distraction of cleaning Harlow's fur he would be unable to control his desire.

He looked at Harlow, suspicious of his desires, but he simply smiled and beckoned him again with a quick side nod of his head and then leaned forward. The temptation was too great and he slid in behind his lover again, his back to the wall.

Harlow leaned back and took up Leonard's hands, wrapping them around himself like a stole. "It is so nice to be here with you." he said and leaned further back into the large man's belly. His tail flicked and moved around. "Where can I put this thing?" He asked.

Lennard, having some experience with awkward tail positions, knew exactly where he wanted it and decided a little fun might not be a bad idea for the two of them. He reached down and took Harlow's tail near the base. A quick flinch overtook Harlow at the touch.

He proceeded to bend Harlow's tail back and forth gently, causing more flexibility. At the same time Lennard lifted a leg and allowed his tail to slink up in between his and then Harlow's legs. "Take my tail and flex it like I am doing to yours." He whispered into Harlow's ear then nibbled the droopy skin gently.

Harlow did as was asked and gently bent the tail back and forth, up and down. This was the first time he had really manipulated another tail. He had touched Lennards before, but that was more like shaking hands as where this felt like an intimate touch.

"Now follow my lead." Lennard whispered again. He gently took Harlow's tail and began to wrap it around his shaft. The sensory hairs on Harlow's tail overloaded and he froze, the experience over stimulating his brain and stopping his motor functions. He felt his tail being wrapped multiple times around Lennards rigid manhood, all the while feeling the tip of it applying pressure underneath his tail. He could feel waves of emotions coming from Lennard through the connection. The burning desire and anticipation Lennard had for Harlow, but also a deep and passionate love for him.

This love, the feeling of being needed and desired, touched on something very deep inside Harlow, a piece of the core of who he was. It was a hidden desire he had always had, the sense of feeling unwanted and unneeded stemming from his earliest childhood days.

Harlow's early life was spent trying to gain affection from his father who only grew farther away. As the years passed and he was introduced to the people of Greenby, they had shown him pity and sheltered him, but he saw them do the same to stray felines. He took their pity and made the best of it. He worked hard and learned all he could in order to be accepted as a member of the community, to feel like he could belong.

Up until this moment, he had never felt as though he truly belonged. He would never be good enough to be considered an equal. He felt as if he would never measure up to be the man his father had been in the past, to whom he was frequently judged. He never dreamed of being worthy of love, worthy of admiration, and most important of all, worthy to be with this wonderful man.

As the waves of emotions ran through him, filling him with hope and joy, his cares of the world outside melted away. He was with the only person who would ever be enough for him. The only person who he would ever desire. He would gladly give his life for this man and couldn't wait to fulfill him in any way possible.

Lennard had finished wrapping Harlow's tail around his erection and gripped it as tight as possible, his hand unable to wrap fully around the now sheathed organ. Harlow had frozen, and Lennard watched as his face contorted through multiple emotions, a tear finally rolling down his cheek. "Are you ok, love?" He asked gently and placed his free hand around the boy's stomach.

"Yeah, better than ever." He replied and once again flexed Lennards tail back and forth. He slowly began wrapping it around his shaft as Lennard had done with his tail. Obviously there was less tail length to work with, Lennard's tail being extended underneath them both, but he was able to get three twists around him.

As he finished Lennard pulled him close with the hand wrapped around his stomach. The pressure of his manhood against him, all but penetrating. He leaned his head close to Harlow's ear. "Now stroke." He whispered and felt Lennard start moving his hand along his shaft, Harlow's tail moving with each stroke. He thrusted gently forward with his hips, holding Harlow close and creating a steady rhythm between their bodies.

Once again the feelings and sensations were overwhelming, but this time Harlow wouldn't allow himself to freeze up and disappoint his lover again. He turned his head and met Lennards muzzle as he slowly slid his hand over Lennards' tail up and down on his own erection.

It only took moments, the intensity of Harlow's hormones and desire along with the more experienced way Lennard worked himself and the boy's tail caused them both to erupt with intense pleasure. Harlow released first, his youth unable to contain the stimulation. Lennard ejaculated directly after, spurred on by the waves of ecstasy released by his lover.

Once finished they panted and heaved in each other's embrace. Harlow moved around to meet Lennards kiss. They held each other passionately, sealing in the memories of the moment. This was their first intimate physical contact, and neither wanted it to end.

They basked in each other's presence afterward. Harlow fell asleep in Lennard's arms. "Yeah, I think I could get used to this." Lennard spoke to the plants in the room. "Who knew at my age I'd find someone like this. It definitely wasn't in my plans."

He continued to rest until the water cooled to a lukewarm then gently picked up the sleeping boy and carried him to the bed.

The next day dawned and Lennard rose to find Harlow staring up at him, a goofy smile on his face. "Good morning." he said to the still half asleep man.

Lennard smacked his gummy morning mouth a few times, getting some saliva moving and running his tongue over his teeth before responding. "You're up early."

The goofy smile widened on Harlow's face as he pressed himself closer to Lennard, letting him feel just how "up" he was.

Lennard looked down at Harlow and rolled his eyes. He pulled him in tight and closed his eyes again. "Oh, the exuberance of youth. Nearly dead two days ago, now looking to breed new life into this old man."

"Well, at least breed him." Harlow retorted. His free arm reached around Lenards back and slid under Lennard's tail.

"Oh..." Lennard spasmed forward and yipped. "That's a bit forward young man." Lennards tone informed Harlow he had gone a little too far.

"I, I'm sorry Lennard. I didn't mean to."

"It's fine, just startled me a little. I'm not the best at mornings." Lennard interrupted. "But really, you should be on bed rest. You suffered a severe trauma."

Harlow raised his hand to show Lennard the state of his wounds. "Look, you can barely tell where I was injured anymore."

Lennard took the boy's hand and held it close to his face, the boogers in his eyes still making his vision blurry. "Is that your fur growing back already?" He said after a moment of inspection.

This brought Lennards faculties to wakefulness and he haunched himself on an elbow and started looking at Harlows wounds, going over them individually to verify the healing was equal.

"Astonishing." He whispered to himself after inspecting Harlow's wounds.

"I feel great Lennard. I don't know what that little guy did to me, but it's still working." Harlow chimed up. "You think I would dare grab your butt if I wasn't feeling great?" He winked.

The statement brought a smile to Lennards face and he tackled Harlow onto the bed. "Feeling great huh? I'll be the judge of that." He said before pressing his muzzle on top of Harlow's and extending his tongue.

The two of them wrestled on the bed for a few minutes. Harlow still tried to engage in intercourse, but Lennnard, knowing how that would go without the proper accouterments satiated the boy's desires by introducing him to somewhere nice, warm, and wet with saliva to put his hormone filled morning wood.

Chapter 9

After the morning romp, Lennard proceeded to boil water, and make them both a stimulating Garinga and Tunerist tea. Harlow had lost the clothing he was wearing as well as the set he had carried to wear to the pyre. He put on one of Lennard's tunics which wrapped around him almost twice, and extended to just above his knees. It looked like a huge robe.

Without proper attire, Harlow wouldn't be able to perform his functions as fetcher, so the first appointment of the day was the tailor. Harlow had never actually been to the tailor before, his wardrobe consisted of hand me downs from older kids who outgrew their clothing and didn't have younger siblings to inherit them.

The Dapper Dragon was located on the West side of the main street, so it was a short walk from the clinic to the tailor. It was still early morning, the locals were out setting up their stalls and carrying on their business, paying no attention to Harlow wrapped up in an oversized tunic. Nevertheless, Harlow felt as if all eyes were on him.

The sign out front held the image of a friendly looking dragon standing upright and wearing a striped suit. The door chime rang as Lennard opened the door and the two hurried inside where a man roughly the size of Lennard stood with his back towards them.

The proportions of the man were strange though, the lower body much more rounded than would be possible, with a tail at mid back level rather than above the legs. The tail itself was a bushy brown with stripes of chestnut, obviously not a Canursid tail. Below, the bottom of the person's body ballooned out, the fur changed to a lighter tan, almost cream color.

"Crossman!" Lennard bellowed as he spied the unusually proportioned proprietor. With a bounce the person turned on the spot and spied the two standing near the entrance.

"Lennard! My friend!" Came the strangely accented voice. Two small arms erupted from the upper body as he bounced forward to greet the big man.

Harlow watched as Crossman bounced forward, arms much too small for this large of a person and Harlow realized Crossman wasn't actually the size of Lennard, he was riding atop a... furry bouncing ball?

Harlow was completely confused. He looked at Crossman more closely in an attempt to understand how this anatomy functioned. Crossman's face was the same primary color as his tail, but was masked with a lighter color. The light tan, almost cream color, extended around his eyes and nose, then moved down his chin and what little neck there was, to encompass his round stomach.

Harlow's own face had a similar mask. His mask was almost white instead, with his primary color a light brown. He had always been told his mask was unique, so to see Crossman having a similar type marking was unusual.

Crossman leapt with a final bounce toward Lennard who extended his arms out as if to give this person a hug, but as Crossman left the ground on the final bounce, the mass he bounced on immediately withdrew up into the now small mans...skirt? Harlow was becoming more and more confused by the second.

Lennard caught the now small man easily and did in fact give him a quick squeeze. He then extended his arm and Crossman sat there, feet dangling, and took a good look at Harlow.

"Ahhh, you must be Harlow." The accented voice inquired, then with a raised eyebrow asked. "Are you trying to use one of this lard asses shirts as a dress?"

Lennard let out a huge laugh, almost causing Crossman to fall from his arm. "That he is Crossman!" He spoke and landed his hand on Harlow's shoulder? "He fell into a patch of Iminit thistle and almost died. His clothes were beyond saving."

Crossman ran his fingers along his chin as if pulling on whiskers there, whereas his actual whiskers were black and stuck out from his cheeks. "I see." He said. "And you are this fat man's apprentice correct?" He asked and nodded his head towards Lennard.

It was time for Harlow to speak, but his brain was still trying to understand what was going on. All he managed was a nod, his eyes roaming over Crossman's body. What was he bouncing on a moment ago? Where did it go? He asked himself, a tickle of an unbelievable thought entering his brain.

"Then something durable and easy to maintain, yes?" Crossman looked at Lennard and asked.

"Yes Crossman, let's keep it simple for now, he may yet grow, perhaps even getting to my size." Lennard told the person sitting on his arm with a wink.

"Not possible, no one as big and fat as you, Lennard." Crossman said as a matter of fact.

He then leapt from Lennards arm, but before falling even a few inches, the cream colored mass from before expanded and Crossman stood before Harlow, looking at him from eye level.

Harlow's eyes expanded and he involuntarily stepped back to look down at what Crossman sat upon. His mouth stood open and his look of dumbfoundment brought another laugh from Lennard.

"What's wrong with you?" Crossman asked, pointing his finger at Harlow. "You never seen a Tanuki-san before?"

"N, no sir." Harlow finally managed to get out. "I, I mean."

"Yes, yes every time. You want to know what this is." Crossman patted the ball which extended from between his legs and allowed him to bounce around. "It's my sack!"

In a display of what his "Sack" could do, Crossman sank to the ground and extended his sack outward along the floor. "It can do many things, it can be a rug." His sack then folded up over Crossman's entire body and shifted form. Where once stood the Tanuki-san now stood a small Elboar. "It can be disguise." The Elboar spoke.

The sack unfolded and unwrapped from around the Elboar and Crossman stood again. His sack once again stretching out then inflating in front of him. It rose up to Harlow's height and molded itself into the shape of a Canursid. The generic form began to shape details into the model, and within seconds a clone of Harlow stood in front of his own face. The coloring was different, and the fur seemed finer than his own, but the resemblance was uncanny.

Harlow unknowingly reached out a hand to touch the face of his clone who stood only inches away. Just before he touched it though, it retreated back under Crossman and then inflated once again, bringing the man back up to Harlow's height. "You don't go touching a person's sack without permission." Crossman scolded. "You want me to go grab your tail without asking?"

Harlow was stunned, his suspicion truly confirmed. This amorphous furry sack was truly this man's scrotum. "I, I'm sorry. I didn't."

"Yes, yes, you didn't know." Crossman interrupted. "Everyone always wanting to touch the sack without asking. Never give Crossman permission to touch their tail though." Crossman looked at Lennard, who had his mouth covered by his hands, holding in his laughter, then at Harlow. "Go ahead, touch it. I'll bet it's softer than your tail anyway." He bounced forward all but bouncing his sack off Harlow's torso.

"Go ahead, tell me how soft my sack is." Crossman said and waved his hand down to his furry sack.

Harlow was completely unprepared for this situation and looked to Lennard for guidance. The big man was doing all he could do from bursting out laughing at the hijinx occurring. He was no help in this situation.

Slowly, Harlow raised his hand and patted the sack. Then he caressed it, the fur was much softer and longer than it looked and his fingers swept through it in waves.

"Told you. Softer right?" Crossman said indignantly.

"Not quite, but almost." Harlow answered without thinking.

"Almost, every time you big bear-dogs answer. Almost every time." Crossman rolled his eyes. "You touch Crossman's sack, but Crossman never gets to touch bear-dog's tail." He said with disgust. His accent heavy, this seemed like it was something which truly perturbed him.

A look of hurt crossed his face, then he turned and bounced away leaving Harlow standing with his hand out where it had just been running through Crossmans scrotal fur. He was unsure what he had done or what he should do now.

Harlow looked at Lennard again, his laughing fit had ended and a look of uncertainty crossed his face as well. He shrugged his shoulders and walked forward to lay his hands on Crossman's shoulder.

"Crossman, are you ok?" Lennard asked in his sympathetic voice.

"I'm fine." Crossman said and jerked away from Lennards touch. "Go away, I will have clothes for your little boy later."

The annoyance and finality of Crossman's voice stunned Lennard. He had always liked the little Tanuki-san, joked with him, let him poke fun at his size and jovially poked back. This was different though and Lennard was certain there was something more bothering his friend.

Lennard beckoned Harlow forward with a twist of his finger. When Harlow and Lennard stood side by side he leaned over to Harlow and asked him to follow his lead, if he were comfortable doing so.

Harlow was unsure of what Lennard had planned, but agreed with a nod. Lennard's hand wrapped behind Harlow's back and they moved forward towards the now droopy Crossman. His sack looked wrinkly and only slightly inflated.

As they approached, Lennard's tail wound its way forward to the right. Harlow realized what lennard was doing and hesitated for a moment. He was always told to guard his tail. To allow someone to touch it or to touch someone else's was taboo. He also remembered Lennard telling him how most Canursid's had several people who they shared their tail with. He was unsure, but decided if this was one of the times where sharing your tail was appropriate.

As he watched Lennard's tail moved closer to Crossman, he followed his lover's example and trusted he was doing the right thing. He quickly moved his tail into a similar position and in a synchronized motion placed his tail on Crossman's shoulder the same time as Lennard.

At first, Crossman didn't move, like he was startled by the tails now laying on his shoulders. Then slowly he raised his hands up and lightly touched first the top of the tails, then the soft underside.

The Canusids couldn't see it, since Crossman faced away from them, but the look of absolute joy which passed over his face was immense. For several years Crossman had lived here and provided his services to the community, dealing with the Canursids and their touch phobic tails.

He actually had no issues when people wanted to touch his sack, but the game was always fun to play. As more and more of his customers told him his sack was almost as soft as their tail, his curiosity grew in intensity. Today, for some unknown reason, the intensity overtook Crossman's integrity and his feelings had been hurt.

As these two gentlemen wrapped their tails around his shoulders, a feeling of wonder and resentment for how he had reacted overtook him. He slowly reached up to the proffered appendages and, with what he thought of as a show of respect and gratitude, touched first the top of the tail as comparison, then moved to the fur underneath.

The softness of it astonished him. He had begun to think it was a conspiracy concocted by the people of this town to always tell him of the softness of the underside of their tail being just slightly softer than his own sack.

Now as he felt these tails for the first time, the term "almost" which they always used, seemed too small a term. There was no comparison at all. The fur of his sack was coarse and inelegant compared to this. He felt tears of joy begin rolling down his cheeks.

A small "Thank you." came from Crossman as he softly stroked their tails. Lennard's arm brought Harlow in closer, a side hug and show of gratitude for allowing his friend to experience them both.

As Crossman first touched Harlow's tail it was all he could do to keep it in place and not yank it back. The alien fingers felt intrusive and uncomfortable. His eyes focused on Lennard. He had a quirky smile on his face. Harlow couldn't tell if he were having similar feelings, but felt if he was ok with this, then he would be ok as well.

The small fingers moved to the underside as Harlow looked at his lover's face. Immediate sensations, both physical and emotional, bombarded him then. He felt the gratitude the Tanuki-san felt, as well as the build up of emotions which led to his small meltdown. He watched Lennard's face for signs he was experiencing the same emotions, but his expression never changed.

The physical stimulation was intense, but nothing compared to the level of intensity he felt when Lennard touched his tail. A small tingle began in his stomach and moved down to his groin, but unlike when he was touched by Lennard, the tingle didn't cause a reaction.

After a few moments, Crossman released their tails and inflated himself back up to their height, turning to face them as he did. "You are best friends and customers." He said enthusiastically. He bounced up between Lennard and Harlow, landing on their chests and wrapping his short arms around each of their necks.

"Harlow, I will make for you a wonderful outfit." He spoke and kissed his cheek. "Lennard, I don't have enough material to cover you." He laughed and kissed Lennard's cheek as well.

Crossman went to work, using some premade clothing he had on display, he used his sack to model Harlow and alter the clothing appropriately. The speed and dexterity he displayed astonished Harlow who had never witnessed anything like this before. Crossman's small hands virtually blurred as he added stitches and hems within minutes.

He was quickly presented with a supple yet thick pair of trousers in a pale blue which fastened at the waist with a button rather than a tie which is what had always had before. The pants had pockets on the front and back with loops along the side. They could also be unfolded on warmer days to expose vents along the sides to assist with circulation.

He also received a tunic. It's color was similar to the pants, but with color blocks of cream along the sides and shoulders. The neckline was loose, but could be pulled tight by drawstrings which also attached to a small hood.

Crossman also presented him with a jacket. It was long, coming almost to his knees. It was a darker brown, almost matching the Chestnut stripes along the Tanuki-san's tail. It was lined with a material Crossman called "plad" a series of squares, differing in size and color creating criss crossing intersections. It had an abundance of pockets both inside and out.

Harlow tried on the outfit and it fit perfectly. Crossman showed him how the vents worked along the sides of the pants and how if he weren't near, he could easily let out the hems as he grew. "Crossman, this is amazing. I've never dreamed of having clothing this fine. I will never be able to pay for this though." Harlow told the tailor.

Lennard came up behind and placed his hand on Harlow's shoulder. "You'll be paying me back." He said and smiled. "Crossman, I think a pair of long underclothes would be good for Harlow to have as well. And maybe another pair."

"No fat man!" Crossman interrupted and pointed his finger at Lennard's face, his finger coming within a hair's width from booping Lennards' nose. I've made you all the clothes I can. It's too much fabric. Lose some weight first!"

"Now look here you chubby little pervert, always getting people to touch your sack. Your belly is as big as mine and I can see the way it jiggles when you bounce around." Lennard pounded his stomach with his fist, a loud boom coming from the impact. "I may be round, but I'm solid."

Crossman took on a flabbergasted look and backed away a bit from the boom of Lennards gut punch. This gave Lennard the opening he had been hoping for. He swiftly brought his left hand, which had been resting on Harlow's shoulder, toward the startled Tanuki-san and with one thick finger poked Crossman in the belly.

There was an obvious jiggle created. Crossman's eyes went huge as he watched his own flabby midsection betray him. The wave quickly spread from the middle of his belly to jiggle his breasts and even wobble the loose skin wrapped around his neck.

"How, how dare you!" Crossman said indignantly.

Harlow looked to Lennard who had apparently just assaulted the man who he intended to purchase these amazing clothes from. His face was still wide with a huge smile. Harlow's eyes next went back to Crossman. His look of impertinence melted away as he gave a mischievous look to Lennard then began to laugh.

Crossman bounced forward into Lennards arms again as he had when they had arrived and the two laughed, poking each other's bellies. Harlow was beyond confused and stood there slack jawed.

Apparently this was a game the two played each time they interacted. They clued Harlow in when they were able to speak again. Crossman's attitude noticeably changed after their game came to it's conclusion. Crossman was much more chummy and less standoffish. He even invited them to Lunch.

They found themselves at The Soft Underside for lunch. Being able to eat here was also a new experience for Harlow. The Soft Underside was the finer and therefore more expensive tavern in town. When Harlow had the coin to purchase food, he would always eat the special at one of the other, cheaper, taverns.

They sat at a table in the corner of the room and Lennard ordered Mead for all of them. For Harlow mead was another one of the rarities he had rarely had. He had tasted it before when his father had passed out and left a small amount in the bottom of the bottle he had been drinking, but generally his father preferred harder spirits or ale which Harlow didn't care for.

As the pretty server girl sat down the mugs and announced the menu, Harlow's mouth began to salivate uncontrollably. The Soft Underside offered several kinds of meat as well as soup and stew. He had smelled the fresh bread as they entered and he saw other tables slather butter on hunks torn off of steaming loaves.

He would have been completely satisfied with just a hunk of bread and some butter, but the server girl mentioned smoked Elboar steak and he blurted out. "smoked Elboar steak please." before she could finish.

Lennard, presuming this was a special occasion for Harlow, smiled as he ordered the same. It was actually the dish he preferred to eat here as well. "I'll take the smoked Elboar steak as well." He told the serving girl. "How about you Crossman?"

The Tanuki-san, sitting on a partially inflated sack in order to fit properly on the Canursid size table, looked off to the side and thought for a moment before telling the girl, "I will have a fresh loaf and leek stew."

Harlow, realizing he hadn't ordered the bread looked abashed as the smaller man ordered it separately. He wasn't sure if that was necessary, but didn't dare ask. He didn't have a coin to his name, especially since he had to leave all his belongings on the side of the road.

It hit Harlow then, his eyes widened and his hand came to his forehead in a slap. He had totally forgotten until now about his clothing chest on the wheelbarrow. Things had moved so quickly since then, he hadn't had any time to go over his memories.

"Harlow? Anything the matter?" Lennard asked when he heard the boy's palm hit his head.

"I can't believe I forgot." Harlow said and pulled his face from his hand. "My things. You told me to bring my things and I did. I filled my clothes chest with my books and stuff and had to leave them on the side of the road."

Lennard shook his head trying to clear the cobwebs and follow what Harlow was talking about. "Wait... you packed up your things from your house and were bringing them back?"

"Yes Lennard, you told me to move in, remember?"

Lennard recalled saying something along those lines, but it felt so long ago. "Yeah, I guess I did say that, didn't I. I wanted you away from your father." He paused to think for a moment and gave the server a thumbs up to indicate their order was finished. "Ok, so you loaded your stuff into your trunk and put it on a wheelbarrow?"

"Yes. but I was too tired to go on, so I took out a set of clean clothes and started walking to town." Harlow told Lennard his story. The state of his room, his withdrawal from the house's hearthstone and the journey from there to where he fell into the thorns. The more he told, the less he seemed to remember. The ending was a blur, especially once he had gotten the ride from someone, he couldn't remember who though.

Lennard listened and his look grew more concerned. Crossman, who also followed along, but didn't understand the significance asked afterward, "So you are moving in with this guy?" He pointed to Lennard then looked at Lennard and asked him, "You're not going to be a lonely old miser anymore?" As he said the last part of it, something clicked in Crossman's brain. "Wait, are you two, a?"

Lennard hushed the tailor before he said things too loud and caused a scene. "It's not public knowledge yet. There are some." Lennard paused. "Issues. There are people in this town who would see our." He paused and lowered his voice. "Relationship. As abnormal. Possibly to the point of causing trouble." He finished.

Crossman nodded his head knowingly. "Oh yes, I know exactly who you are talking about." He pointed his finger to the other side of the room and continued. "They would be some of those."

Lennard and Harlow both swiveled their heads and looked in the direction Crossman had pointed. At a table sat four men, all of them wearing identical clothing over their white fur. Black trousers, white tunic, and a small round black hat which fit between their ears. Normally they wore black coats as well, but these were draped over the back of their chairs.

They were members of the Ailuropoda or more commonly known as the black and white sect. These men were so devout they bleached their fur white, leaving only a slight coloration around their eyes, preferably black. Their beliefs forbad them from taking mates, wearing colors, or using any magic. They were seen as the social enforcers and scorned any who deviated from the norms of society.

"Ugh... of course they would be here." Lennard sighed. He watched them cut their meat with knives instead of their claws. Drink water after eating a small portion of bread without dipping it in their soup. Hold their napkins on their laps instead of tucking it in their tunics, like the proper delicate flowers they were.

Lennard understood the need for proper cleaning and personal hygiene, but there were times and places for such things. When you were out to enjoy a meal with friends, you used your claws, you dipped your bread, and most of all carried on conversations. This to Lennard was the biggest issue he had with the Ailuropoda; they were taught to not speak without something valuable to say. So conversation was virtually non-existent.

Crossman brought their attention back to their table by saying, "There might not be a whole lot of people around here as devoted as those guys, but they have enough influence to make your lives very uncomfortable, if not even find some old law or something they could use against you."

Lennard nodded his head in agreement. "Exactly."He said. "It's best to keep our lives to ourselves. You understand, right Crossman?"

The Tanuki-san slapped Lennards' shoulder, his small hand barely making a sound as it hit the large man's flesh and said in a heavy accent. "The heaviest stone hides the tiniest bug." He looked at the two and smiled wryly. "Your secret is the bug and I am the stone."

Harlow was a little unsure how to take the strange saying, but hoped it meant their secret was safe with him. He hadn't had many dealings with the black and white sect, but knew they were very intolerant. He was always told to mind his manners around them, so he just hid whenever he encountered the odd men.

He did know a lot of the townspeople would go to their temple and listen to their sermons. So if they told people he and Lennard were bad, then those people would probably listen.

The serving girl returned with their meals and to Harlow's delight the smoked Elboar steak came with two large slices of hot bread with butter melting on top. There was also a large hunk of cheese and sliced Ponna. He had tried Ponna only once before, it is a sweet and crunchy fruit. The insides are white and they have a red skin which snaps when you bite it. He dug in without thinking anymore about the black and white's.

For the next few moments the conversation at the table stopped as the trio greedily devoured their meal. Harlow was especially voracious. He had only eaten broth over the last three days. He practically inhaled the meat, bread, and cheese and finished well before the other two. Eyeing their plates with envy.

Lennard watched as Harlow inhaled his lunch, barely coming up for air. When he was finished the boy's eyes lingered on Lennard's plate as well as Crossman's. A little chuckle escaped his throat as he pushed the remainder of his lunch to his partner. He figured he could stand to eat a little less from time to time anyway. Grabbing his mug, he gulped down the rest of his Mead and sat back to watch his company finish off their plates.

Once finished, Lennard and Harlow bid farewell to Crossman who said he would send over the under clothes later on. Lennard had paid for the clothes as well as lunch and while he wasn't broke, his savings were diminishing rapidly. He began to wonder how he was going to afford to pay for the addition to his house.

The two newly minted lovers strolled casually back towards the clinic, taking the larger road rather than cutting through the alley. People waved from their houses or businesses as they walked by, Lennard stopping to say hi to a few people along the way.

They had been discussing whether or not to go out and try to find Harlow's clothing chest when they approached the entrance to the clinic. As if summoned by their conversation, a wheelbarrow holding on it a small clothing chest sat in front of the building.

Chapter 10

Unfortunately, on the ground next to the wheelbarrow in a state of half wakefulness sat Brodil, Harlow's father. Lennard stopped Harlow from advancing by extending an arm in front of him, finger's spread. Once he realized who was sitting there in front of his clinic, his hackles raised.

Harlow had been suspicious for a few steps now, he recognized the stench of his father's unwashed body and the ale which he favored. His muscles tensed but he moved forward with resolution, ready to confront his father head on, until Lennards huge hand stopped him mid-step.

Brodil's head shakily raised and looked at the two people stopped before him. His eyes focusing and unfocusing until registering who the pair were. "Harloow." He slurred. Thiss iz yourz, right?"

Harlow's stomach was in his throat. He was both angered and embarrassed to see his father here. Half of him wanted to scream and tell him to go away, the other half wanted to run away himself. Lennards' strong hand in front of him acted like a tether.

"Brodil. Good to see you old man. Is that Harlow's trunk I see there?" Lennard said in a deadpan voice.

"Len, Lennn, Lennarrd." Brodil stammered. "Why, why yes it iz. I foun, found it on the road on my way here." He hiccuped in between his words.

"Then I thank you for returning it and saving us a trip to retrieve it." Lennard continued in the same monotone way. "Is there something else I can help you with? Do you need something for a hangover maybe?"

"Hangover?" Brodil asked. "This, this iz the bezt thing for a hang, hangover." He said and held up the virtually empty bottle in front of him like showing off a treasurer he had found. The bottle then moved to his lips and the remaining liquid emptied down his throat.

"Then if you don't mind, Harlow and I." Lennard emphasized Harlow's name to correct Brodil's incorrect pronunciation from earlier. "Have work to do." He stepped forward slowly, watching to see if Brodil was looking for something else.

Brodil's eyes focused slightly more than before and he looked at Harlow. "You need to come hoome. You' spent enufff time wit thiz guy." He waved his hand and bottle towards Lennard. "Yur mama." He paused and sniffed, "Wantz you home."

"Mother is dead, father. No amount of booze is going to bring her back." Harlow said in an icy tone.

Something within Brodil snapped at Harlow's statement. His eyes cleared up and he finally saw the two men in front of him. Men, he thought, not a man and a boy. His gaze shifted to Lennard then, his eyes narrowed to slits and his words came out in a hiss. "You... you bonded him! He is my son! You fucking pervert!" Each word grew louder and more staccato.

Lennard's hand flew to Brodil's mouth. "You will be silent, if you have words for me, they will be said inside, in a proper tone." Lennard's voice seemingly dropped an octave, and a low growl accompanied his words.

Brodil's eyes flashed with fear for a second, then anger overtook him and he swung the bottle at Lennard's head.

The bottle hit hard, shattering with an ear splitting crash. Lennard, stunned by the blow and audacity of this man, loosened his grip, allowing Brodil to pull free.

Brodil, now free, used his free hand to grab Harlow by the collar and pull him forward as if to drag him home. Harlow was not the little boy his father had abused before and knocked away his father's hand and pushed him back.

"Leave! Now!" Harlow screamed. He had never been in a physical altercation before and didn't know what to do. His brain couldn't think fast enough to react, his words small and direct.

Lennard, recovering from the blow to his head, stood back up and saw Brodil lunging towards him again, this time the broken bottle leading.

"You fat fuck, this is all your fault!" Brodil screamed as he stabbed forward with the broken bottle.

Harlow saw his father recover and use the broken bottle as a weapon to stab Lennard. The glass cut into his lover's arm, pushing the large man back. A throaty booming howl escaping Lennard's lips.

Harlow couldn't believe his father would attack like this, but seeing Lennard wounded by him secured Harlow's resolve and he brought up his fist. Harow had never hit anyone, but threw an awkward punch at Brodil, which connected with his cheek.

It hurt Harlow's hand, but his father barely felt it. It didn't even seem to register to the attacking man, his free hand moving past Harlow's face to connect with Lennards' jaw.

A crunching sound could be heard as Brodi's fist impacted Lennard's face, but rather than Lennard's head being whipped around, it was Brodil's hand which drew back with crooked fingers.

Lennard's demeanor changed as he recovered from the stab. His muscles tightened and anger filled his veins. The Concussive blow from Brodil's hand barely registered to Lennard now. His hand punched forward and contacted Brodil in the chest, his other connecting solidly on the right side of the man's face.

Brodil was sent flying into the clinic's wall where he fell limply to the ground. Lennard panted deeply, fangs exposed and fists at his sides. Blood ran down his left arm, dripping on to the dirt road, creating a deep scarlet puddle.

Harlow had never seen anyone go Beastial before. For the first time he felt afraid of his mentor, partner, lover. He looked at his father's crumpled body and felt no compassion for him, his concern was for Lennard.

"Lennard?" Harlow said quietly. Several people came running down the street at the commotion, but stopped dead in their tracks upon seeing the raging Canursid standing before them.

Harlow wasn't sure if it was safe to touch his lover and with people gathering he dared not anyway. "Hey, Lennard?" He squeaked again, slightly louder.

Lennard's ear twitched and he looked down at Harlow. Lennard's eyes had gone completely bloodshot, the white's turning crimson. The pale blue irises, which Harlow loved looking into, now stood out like moons against a blood red sky.

There was a fierceness in them, as though he couldn't see who it was standing before him, but finding a reserve of courage Harlow hadn't known he had, he stood his ground and stared Lennard in the eyes.

In what seemed like hours, but was truly only seconds, Lennard's eyes began to soften, the crimson fading and the anger diminishing, being replaced by concern and confusion.

"Harlow, are you ok? What happened?" Lennard asked gently.