Meowservation of the Forest Part 1

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#8 of Pokemon Stuff

Summary: A wolf's plans are derailed by an excitable meowscarada. Though given the opportunity to get it back on track, does he even want to anymore?


"I can never tell which you're after," Jamie says, scratching the skwovet's ears as it eats the oran berry in his paw.

Suddenly, the skwovet races away, carrying the berry half-eaten in its maw, and a singular gust of wind whooshes behind him, so Jamie whirls around. Looking down, he finds a pokemon, a bipedal feline that he doesn't recognize.

The pokemon drags out a "meowscarada" as he presents his empty paws, then covers one with the other. When he inches his paw away, he reveals a wooden carving.

"Where did you get that?" Jamie's never heard of a whittling pokemon, and doubts this feline is considering his lack of thumbs. So either he found it or... "You didn't steal th-"

"Scarada!" The pokemon shakes his head, the points of his mask swishing just below Jamie's muzzle.

Jamie hesitates to take the carving, but it is thrust into his paws. His best guess is that it's a person-a canid maybe-kneeling and playing in the dirt. Or maybe grass given the plant sprouting before the individual.

After a few seconds, it clicks. The individual is a wolf, him, planting an oran berry tree. Perhaps the very one his back is against.

"So you made this."

"Meow." The pokemon nods. "Meowsca."

"Is this your way of asking to be captured?"

The pokemon tilts his head. "Rada?"

"Like with this." The wolf rifles through the satchel over his shoulder and pulls out a pokeball. "Because the answer is n-"

The meowscarada pokes the button on the ball and is reduced to a bright red figure before the ball sucks him inside. It rattles out of the wolf's paw and onto the ground, then breaks open, spewing forth the red figure.

The instant the pokemon regains his features, he stomps on the ball repeatedly, punctuating each with a "Sca!" Within a second the pokeball is dust. The meowscarada holds his paw out, fingers curling and uncurling. "Meowscara."

The last thing the wolf will do is come closer, so instead he shuffles away, the pokemon's claws burning a darker and darker purple with every step. Jamie drops the carving and breaks into a sprint, but he runs into the meowscarada, despite having ran the opposite direction.

"Carada." The pokemon giggles and slices the strap of the satchel, the claws grazing into the wolf's gray fur; any closer they would tear flesh. The meowscarada dumps the contents of the satchel into the grass, and separates out the pokeballs.

"I-is that all you wa-wanted?"

"Meow." The pokemon throws the non-pokeballs into the satchel and returns it to Jamie.

The wolf attempts to strap it over his shoulder, then remembers it's broken.

"Meowscar." The pokemon stares at a tree, his paw making the same curling motion until Jamie places his satchel in it. The meowscarada lowers it to the dirt and a tree root rises from it penetrating both ends of the broken strap and tying them together. After the pokemon cuts the root off, he extends the satchel back to the wolf.

"Thanks." Jamie slings it over his shoulder and backs away. "It works now, so I'm gonna go, but you have fun with those balls."

The meowscarada rambles, gesticulating swift enough that his paws blur. And miraculously, some of it Jamie translates into English-he knows pokemon speech is infused with meaning, but this is first time hearing it. "Come...later...more...performance...you...forev-" The meowscarada's paws fall to his sides as his eyes lock onto the abandoned carving. "Me-me-meowscarada?"

"Oh, sorry, I just uh...forgot it there."

"Rada." The pokemon slumps onto his knees and brushes dirt off the carving. "Don't like scarada."

"No, no, I like it." Jamie snatches the carving, earning an eye roll. "I'm just a dunce, sorry."

"Meow believe cara." The meowscarada turns away and gathers the pokeballs into his green cape, one paw holding it up. "Trainers sca as I thought." He hurries past trees, becoming less and less visible.

While the meowscarada is intimidating, Jamie hurt him more than vice versa, and feels a need to make up for it. So he chases the pokemon. "Tell you what-" A rock snags his foot, sending him down. He breaks his fall with the paw not holding the carving.

The pokemon smiles as he looks down at Jamie instead of up. "Meow deserve rada, idiot." He notices how the carving was protected. "Meo not all bad carada."

By the time the wolf scrambles to his feet, the meowscarada is gone. His distinct, earthier-than-the-earth scent would be easy to follow, but Jamie knows he can't catch up. So he heads home instead, examining the roughly-made carving. Most of it looks like blobs with some cuts in it, either supposed to be detail or a mistake. His head and the sapling are the exceptions, fine characteristics-like the leaves or his ears-delicately sculpted.

Perhaps it expresses gratitude for Jamie planting the tree and others that reproduced over the last decade to create the forest. Ill-timed with the new owners'--who all but signed off on the sale-planning to level the forest and use the land for farming/ranching.

While the deerlings skittering away from him, and the skwovets chittering around him will be without their home, the new owners said they would relocate the pokemon to breeding farms, and he can't be bound to the middle of nowhere forever. His present concern is the feeling that the meowscarada wanted something, and the question of what stumps the wolf all the way to the desk in his house. Once he figures out how to spell "meowscarada," his PC pops up a list of abilities with words like "explode" and "slash" and "blast." Not encouraging-especially when he reads their typing: grass-dark-but when he scrolls down the webpage, a blurb dispels the worry...until he reaches the end.

...rarely hurting anyone, except individuals receiving affection they feel they deserve instead.

Assuming affection is what the meowscarada wants from Jamie, the meowscarada is a threat to the denizens of the forest. He could have seen the skwovet from earlier and, now that he is denied the same treatment, intends to punish the innocent pokemon for it.

Shooting out of the desk chair, Jamie grabs his satchel, only for the root to come loose, causing it to fall to the floor. He takes the carving from it to prove he didn't discard it and returns outside with his nose up. The night air carries the scents of the forest, nearby skwovets, and the fishy smell of the river on the other side of the house; underneath all that there's the smell of the feline, with a layer of anxiety the wolf failed to notice before. When he steps toward the trees, the scent lessens, and when he reverses direction, the meowscarada almost bulldozes into him, stopping an inch away from him.

"Meow!"

"Hi." Jamie creates some distance between them. "You know where I live?"

"Meow. Meowsca." The pokemon offers up a plant in a lump of dirt. "Cara calling you an idiot." The wolf doesn't know what he will do with it, but he won't reject the gift, so he holds out his free paw.

"First, meow lie rada."

"Lie?"

"Meowscar drop rada forgot."

"Oh, that. I dropped it because I was scared of," Jamie resists the urge to drop eye contact with the pokemon's sky blue eyes, "you."

"Scared of me?" the meowscarada asks and Jamie points to his claws. "Meow sorry."

"It's all good, uh...Do you have a name? I'm Jamie."

"Me...cara."

Jamie can't tell if the pause is intentional or a stutter. "Mecara?"

The meowscarada nods, plopping the plant into the wolf's paw.

"Is this a mago berry sapling? Where did you get this?"

"Cara." The meowscarada points south, down where the river runs. "Carada diversity."

"Well, I guess I'll plant it somewhere this way." Jamie meanders towards a clear part of his property. He hasn't done this since he was a puppy and most of those times his mother helped him. Wait a minute. "How long have you been watching me?"

"Oh." Mecara lags behind before catching up. "Since I carada sprigatito. Meow happened rada other wolf?"

"My mother...died. Why didn't you approach me sooner?"

"I wanted meowsca fully evolved." Mecara rushes ahead to a wide-open field. When the wolf matches his pace, the meowscarada stops, looking at the dirt. "Fertile."

"Did you bring a spade?"

The meowscarada tilts his head.

"How did you dig this up?" Jamie presents the sapling.

"Meow claws. Do you want me to...?"

When the wolf nods, Mecara's claws jut out, glowing purple, and they tear into the earth. Within seconds, Mecara excavates a hole, spraying dirt into a neat pile. He brushes his paws off while the wolf does the same with the sapling, finding all the roots intact. He puts the carving into Mecara's paw, who smirks and flashes his other paw over it, making it disappear. The wolf ignores his curiosity and crouches down, lowering the sapling into its new home. The hole is the perfect depth to cover the roots, so Jamie replaces and firms the soil around it. When he rises, the meowscarada is still holding his empty paw out, a noticeable bulge in his long, sleeve-like fur on his forearms. Chuckling, Jamie retrieves the carving from it.

His smile vanishes and his ears droop when he realizes how pointless this is, the new owners will remove it like all the rest.

"Meow, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." The wolf forces his ears up. "Earlier, you said something about a performance? Wanna do it now?"

"Meowscarada! Follow." Mecara skips into the forest.

Well, that wasn't what Jamie wanted; he just needed to change the subject. He's confirmed that this meowscarada isn't hostile, so there's little reason to play along. Sighing, he runs after the meowscarada anyway. Giving a little affection shouldn't hurt, and he'll be doubly sure nothing will happen.

Jamie finds Mecara in the center of a clearing with pokeballs that he dumps into the wolf's arms.

"I thought you didn't want me to have these."

The meowscarada glares at him. "Meow use, rada hold." He takes one pokeball and tosses it up into the air. Before it lands in his other paw, he throws another. He repeats this, the arcs of the balls getting higher and higher, until the wolf's arms are unburdened.

Jamie watches each ball nearly disappear into the night sky. "Wow." He pulls out his pokedex, and taps it a few times, "The record is eleven. How many is that? It looks like twenty."

"Thirteen."

"I should record y-shit. Pokemon don't qualify." He puts the pokedex away and enjoys the show. "I guess it makes sense for some pokemon, but you're not using anything except your paws."

"Meow fame, just-" Mecara's eyes flick to the wolf's for a split second, allowing a ball to slip from his paw. The rhythm broken, all of the balls tumble into the dirt. "Sca!"

"It's alright, that was a good show."

The meowscarada closes his eyes, his eyelids completing green diamond shapes with the mask below and above, identical to the one in the center of his mask. As if in response, the grass collectively nudges the balls into a pile at his feet. "Real show meowscarad." He pries open each ball, careful not to press the button.

The plant hovering over his shoulder spherizes with a pink flower on top, then detaches and falls into the pokeballs with a thunk, leaving the original plant behind. Before he can reseal all the pokeballs, Jamie picks one up. The flower is most like a rosepink, but the petals cluster more and the stamens are shorter. It disappears from his paw in a blur of white.

"Scarad no touch." Mecara motions to his floating plant. "If you really want, meowscarada?"

Thinking this is the perfect opportunity to give the meowscarada what he feels he deserves, the wolf reaches out. Mecara's eyes widen, then close when Jamie's paw closes around a green petal. It blossoms as the meowscarada leans into the wolf's chest, who has to hold him up with his free arm.

"If you like it that much, you should have asked before."

A purr is the only response, rumbling through Jamie. He travels from now-pink petals to the ball, and underneath his fingers find a stem his eyes cannot. After a single caress, the meowscarada melts into him, threatening to topple them both over, so the wolf pulls his paw away.

Mecara shifts his weight to himself and stops purring. "Meowscarameowscardameowscarada. Meow!" He embraces the wolf, nuzzling into his chest, with his paws wandering lower and lower down his back.

Jamie denies what's happening, thinking it an overzealous hug; until a hardness prods his thigh, fingers play with the base of his tail, and the scent of arousal permeates the air. He breaks free from the meowscarada's arms and looks away so he can't see Mecara's erection.

"Meowscarada? Meowscaradameowscardame-"

"Slow down. I can't understand a word when you speak fast."

"Sorry, I rada excited."

The wolf glances at Mecara for a moment. "I can tell."

The meowscarada sniffs. "You are too. Meowscarad stop?"

"I stopped you because, well, that's a little out of the blue, isn't it? And..." It feels two-faced to fuck you and then let your home be destroyed.

"It is quite early for mating, but meowscardameow-" Mecara breathes in, then speaks slowly and deliberately. "You touched my flower. A great sign of trust considering it could easily hurt you if I let it, and only done to communicate the desire to mate."

"I didn't know your...customs, I guess. I was just curious about it."

"Meow what it does?" The meowscarada lays on the ground, cock standing proud. "Meow show carada once I'm able."

"Could you, uh..."

Mecara covers himself with his cape, so Jamie can stop looking away and sit next to him.

"Sorry about leading you on like that."

"It happens."

It does happen, especially when they don't share the same species, language, or culture. The problem is the cape isn't doing anything about the musky smell of arousal...and the wolf doesn't want it to. But if he initiated anything, he would have to tell the buyers of the property off; his conscience wouldn't let him do anything else. And then how many more years would he be stuck here? Spending his life cleaning up after trespassers, taking care of hatchlings they didn't think or care about when they captured their mother, and only getting meaningful social interaction when he braves the trip to Mesagoza. While Mecara could help with the last one, he barely knows him.

The meowscarada jumps to his feet, his cape falling to the side. "I'm good now. Take the balls and we'll rada like before." As Jamie gets up, Mecara continues, "Oh, meow forgot. Rada allergic to pollen?"

"Uh, no?" Is his performance his flower trying to reproduce with...something? How does that work?

Pushing those thoughts away, the wolf gathers all of the balls-or tries to, Mecara has to stack them in Jamie's arms after the first few. The added weight of whatever is in them makes it relieving when the meowscarada flings one in the air. It doesn't go far and he catches it without touching the second. Taking a deep breath, the meowscarada launches the ball to the stars above, then the second, then the third. Though slower to get going, he's juggling all thirteen once more.

"So the real show is flexing how strong you are?" Jamie admires the muscles straining underneath the poofy, white fur. "I mean, it is a great show."

"Thanks, meow real show isn't this." Mecara grins. "Stand back."

The wolf retreats to the edge of the clearing, seeing better from farther back. The balls, especially the dark-colored ones, are difficult to spot until they reach their apex, where they align with the moon.

One of the balls explodes, its red shrapnel spreading out and contrasting the moon like a firework. As the ringing in the wolf's flattened ears quiets, another detonates, this time blue with a hint of red. The next one is white, and when he squints to see it against the moon, he also sees smaller particles: pollen. As it rains down, it becomes dense enough that it tickles as he breathes it in. The feeling passes, and shortly after black shards flash over the moon.

The fireworks speed up, the boom still reverberating as the next one goes off. Pink, orange, and various different colors dance in the sky. Then only the white of the pollen does.

"Damn, you made it snow early this year!" the gray wolf exclaims, running through the pollen and briefly looking like an arctic wolf instead. "Can you pollinate female meowscaradas' flowers like this?"

"No, all meowscaradas' flowers are male." Mecara's arms drop to his sides as he pants, which slows his speech enough to make it fully comprehensible. "The pollen serves to obscure the vision of the few who can survive a bombardment."

"And here it serves to make a mess on top of the other mess." But for the first time, Jamie is happy to clean up someone else's mess, even though it's also the biggest the forest has ever seen. Without his satchel and one his pockets stuffed with the carving, he uses his flannel to carry the pokeball fragments.

Mecara catches his breath. "Sorry, meow not the original plan." He squats down to snatch a shard that the wolf was about to grab, their paws brushing, and deposits it into his cape. Not the first time somebody has helped the wolf, but it may as well be with how many years it's been since his mother fell ill. Mecara only evokes memories long before that, when his mother taught him to care for nature.

They doubt they got all of it, particularly the white shards with the pollen blanketing everything, but neither of their makeshift bags can hold more.

On the way to Jamie's house to throw it all away, he catches Mecara stealing glances at his bare stomach. The eye-catching white against his gray has nothing to do with it, and the real reason puts a sway in his hips. He stops sashaying when he remembers he can't let this get any further. He confirmed the meowscarada isn't a threat, so all he has to do is get home and forget about this whole thing.

Climbing up the porch steps, Jamie realizes he's lost Mecara. He looks back, expecting the meowscarada to be looking at his semi-exposed back, but instead his eyes are distant and he's too far to see much anyway.

"Is my house that striking? Come on already."

"Meow inviting me to your den?"

"The outside garbage is full so..." While Jamie could bring a bag outside, it'd be a pointless trip; he can turn down any advances and even use the opportunity to definitively end things. "Yes, consider yourself invited."

The meowscarada hops up the steps, dropping some of the stuff in his cape, which the wolf picks up.

"Sorry."

"No big deal." When Jamie opens the door, Mecara replicates the twisting of the knob before walking inside.

Emptying the trash only takes a minute, and Mecara doesn't follow Jamie to the exit, instead saying, "Rada not inviting cara to sleep here? My den's carada, short run, but I'm tired after today. And meowscarada."

The wolf can't throw him out into the cold, can he? "Sure, you can sleep here." Jamie leads Mecara past the living room, down a hallway, and through a door.

Mecara crosses the bedroom, sniffing. "Carada two separate sleeping areas? Your scent is barely here."

"Well yeah," Jamie says from the doorway. "There used to be two wolves living here."

Mecara examines a rectangular spot on the wall that's lighter than the rest. "You didn't sleep with your mother?"

"Uh, no." Jamie pads over, looking beyond Mecara and trying to remember what hung there. "Past a certain age that's considered weird."

"Meow?" Mecara faces Jamie, drawing their eyes to each other instead of the missing picture. "You mean sexual maturity? Scarada some sense. Meowsca who snuggle with?"

"Nobody." Against the logical side of his brain, the wolf advances, having to look down further at the meowscarada. "Have you never slept without another person before?"

"Not often."

The meowscarada's sleep isn't Jamie's problem, is it? Then why isn't he telling him to figure it out himself? "So you need me in order to sleep?"

"Not necessarily, cara good sleep. If rada too much, I shall journey home. The ghost types meowscar my typing. I will be safe."

The wolf forgot about the ghosts; they'll be out soon, if not already. And he doesn't share Mecara's confidence. Some ghosts have fire, fairy, poison, or flying attacks and others negate their dark weakness by being a dark type themselves. No matter how powerful meowscaradas may be, they're still mortal.

But if he snuggles with Mecara, what's the difference if he also does what both of their bodies are demanding they do? They both escalate their relationship and honestly he can't cuddle and not have sex. So his options are to be a prick now, or later when he sells the property.

Jamie swipes at the air, missing the stem. On the second attempt, he finds it and Mecara slumps into the wall behind him. The flower blossoms and the wolf only hesitates for a moment before roaming up to the bomb.

"Know carada customs?"

"Some." Jamie pushes into Mecara, making him flat against the wall. "Do meowscaradas kiss?"

"No. Meowscar masks in the way." Mecara pulls the wolf's head closer. "But with your muzzle..."

Jamie presses his lips to the meowscarada's and plays with his pink petals, causing Mecara's knees to buckle, only kept standing by the wall and the wolf. It takes seconds of teasing his lips for them to part and allow entrance-earthy as he smells and offsetted by an undertone of tang. After his paws travel to the meowscarada's haunches, Jamie hefts him up; but he overestimates the weight and his swishing tail fails to keep his balance. He stumbles backwards onto the bed with Mecara atop him.

"You must weigh only, like, sixty some pounds. Are you only fur?"

"Only in my fur, yes. And soon so will you." Mecara pinches the shirt between two fingers and fiddles with the button with his other paw until it goes through. "The top one rada hardest, the rest..." He undoes all the other buttons in rapid succession.

Withdrawing his arms from the sleeves, Jamie asks, "How are you so good at that?"

"I s-you are always wearing a flannel and jeans, so I...obtained some and I," the meowscarada buries his face into the wolf's white chest, "practiced."

"I can't decide if that's cute or presumptuous." The wolf ushers Mecara's paws to his belt. "Did you obtain one of these too?"

"I tried, but they only had the one they were wearing." Mecara shuffles down until he's level with his crotch. "I scarada and it seems simple." He pulls on the buckle and, when Jamie attempts to instruct him, he interrupts, "No, I can figure it out." He snakes one end through a couple loops and to the buckle, then stares at it.

"Now just get the metal thingy out of the hole."

Mecara does so and, once the wolf shifts his weight, yanks the belt through the loops and off. His paws fly through the unbuttoning, unzipping, and removing of the jeans and boxers. "Meow!" he exclaims, beaming at Jamie.

"Nice job." Jamie pets the meowscarada's large, floppy ears, distracting him further. "But don't forget the reason you did that."

Mecara reaches for the erection before him, then stops when actually looking at it. "It's so different."

The wolf chuckles. "Why would you expect that to be the same when we're so unalike?"

"I just didn't think about it." Mecara cranes his neck to see the other side of the gray-blue shaft. "I don't know what to do now."

"What were you going to do?"

"Put it in my mouth."

"Do that, sounds nice."

"I'll try my best." Mecara cradles the sac on his central paw pad before grabbing the length with his other paw to rub it against his cute, little nose. His bumpy tongue flicks out, cleaning the pre, then follows the rivulet up to its source. Opening his lips, he invites the tip inside, where his tongue plays along the urethra.

"See? You know what to do. Just get a paw on my knot at the base and you're perfect."

The meowscarada's paw descends the length along with his head; the latter stopping when the tip reaches his throat and the former when the wolf whimpers.

"Yeah, right there, my knot's still in my sheath. You gotta get it out for me, then put some pressure on it and I-Arceus. Just like that, that's so good." Jamie bucks his hips while holding Mecara's head between the top two points of his mask.

The meowscarada overpowers the paw and yanks off, coughing.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. I...I'm sorry," the wolf rambles, ears pinned to his head. "You were just doing so well, and I got caught up in the moment. Sorry. We can do something else if you're not feeling it anymore..."

"It happens. I just wish I had a muzzle to make this easier." Mecara guides the wolfhood back into his mouth, more and more of it disappearing into his wonderful warmth.

"There's no pressure to-" Jamie's words become unintelligible as Mecara squeezes his knot and slips his cock into his throat.

Feeling the need to reciprocate somehow, the wolf caresses the meowscarada's cheek.

Mecara leans into the touch before stretching his lips around the bump not yet inside. He suckles on it, tongue swirling around the rest of the shaft, while the wolf's continuous attempts to speak only come out as moans. Never ceasing his tongue, Mecara slides the wolfhood out of his throat.

"That was amazing." Jamie retracts his claws that apparently dug into the sheets. "But if you do that again, my knot will trap my cock in your throat, then...let's not think about what happens then."

After acknowledging him with a look, Mecara glides back so he can lap up more pre, then takes it all in again. His paw handles the knot until a second is required, hugging each side of it with force that makes the wolf go blank. All that exists is pressure: on his knot, on his inches in the meowscarada's throat, and especially in his balls-which finally releases, all that tension flowing up his length and out, to Mecara's murring delight. The relaxation and reconstriction of his throat draws out the wolf's moans of rapture, only quieting when his cum is filling the meowscarada's mouth instead. The wolf regains a sliver of awareness, allowing him to watch the bulge of his seed travel down to Mecara's stomach through his neck.

When Jamie shoots one last time, it overflows Mecara's maw and dribbles down, so he pulls off to swallow, then licks cum off his lips. "I didn't expect you to be that productive."

"Well, don't expect that every time," Jamie says. "I was just really pent up."

Mecara leans down and cleans the shaft with long strokes of his tongue. Each borders on overstimulation, then flies past that border when he reaches the knot, making the wolf squirm until he moves on to the pubic fur.

Jamie encourages the meowscarada away from his crotch and to his lips. His own salty flavor barely detracts from the thrill of exploring the meowscarada's erection. A lot like any other feline, a cougar maybe, but three columns of barbs surround the entire shaft almost down to the base, giving it a nice uneven texture. His other paw wanders lower to a sac that is much like his was: too full for its own good and aching for relief. When they tighten up and a throb courses through the length, he withdraws his paws and his tongue from the meowscarada. "Don't come quite yet. I wanna taste you." The wolf blinks, then the precum-soaked cock is dangling before him with Mecara above him. "Just fuck my muzzle. I'll tap your leg if I need to."

The moment he opens up, Mecara shoves inside with a grunt. The wolf enjoys the spicy musky taste of the pre before jamming the last inch of length into his throat. After grinding into his lips, Mecara pulls out to the tip and thrusts back inside, the wolf's tongue teasing his barbs and earning a long descending moan. Once Mecara recovers a little, his eyes flick down to the wolf's, and he pets his ears as they perk up. The scritching becomes grabbing and Mecara tugs his cock out only to immediately ram back in, his fuzzy sheath tickling Jamie's nose when his scent cannot.

The fourth time Jamie tenses his throat around the erection, it pulsates once, twice, thrice, then floods him with thick ropes. Each time he swallows, Mecara mewls, and eventually he keels over his head and into the wall. The wolf easily keeps up with every jet despite their volume, eager for more in between, but when panicky lightness courses through him, he taps the meowscarada's leg a few times, granting him a deep breath of earthy musk and taste of surprisingly sweet cum. So he can enjoy the last trickles, he holds the meowscarda's hips still, but eventually the cock retreats on its own.

"I wish I was that good with my mouth." After Mecara's breathing steadies, he works a paw under the wolf and rolls him onto his side. "I feel like I got it better than you did." He collapses down onto his side and pulls Jamie into him.

"Mmm, you definitely did not. But what would be wrong with that? You did all the other work today."

"That was expected since I'm rada."

Jamie doesn't care what was said, instead pulling the meowscarda's arm further into his breast and sinking into his thoughts.

With sex like that, part of Jamie's reason for leaving is invalid; he can find plenty of sex in Mesagoza and probably any other city, but it's fifty-fifty chance if it's worthwhile. So there's more than guilt compelling him to stay, but tending the property still sounds like a chore. Though Mecara could help with that, would he? Would he even stick around? He doesn't live here like he originally thought, and while it seems to him like a lot of effort only for a quick fuck, for a pokemon it may be sensible.

Scooting a little closer to the edge of the bed, the wolf reaches to the floor for his pants and retrieves the pokedex from the pocket. Before results can appear for "what are meowscarada mating habits," Mecara grumbles from behind him, "Must you produce light before the sun does?"

"Um, I just needed to check something." Due to earlier activities, his finger slips off the power button instead of pressing it, allowing the meowscarada to read the screen-if he can. He has the intelligence, but where would he have learned?

"Why would you ask the device when you have first-paw experience?"

"Because," the wolf turns around, "I only know up to this point."

"Meow?" Mecara shifts around, attempting to get comfortable on the pillow instead of the neck he was nestled in. "We sleep, then we eat in the morning."

"No, I meant, like, are you-do you...keep with one or do you, um, hop around?"

"Are you trying to ask if we're scarada?" The wolf fails to translate or extrapolate the last part, but before he can ask, Mecara points to some text on the pokedex still in Jamie's paw. "That word." His gaze flits back and forth between Jamie and the screen. "Did you not want the monogamous mateship we just consummated?"

"I do. It's just that ..." Jamie remembers Mecara won't react well to his intentions and edits the story in his head. "I was going to move once winter's over, but if you help me with-y'know those trespassers who fuck everything up? I was hoping you would scare them away or something because all I can do is clean up the mess they make."

"Yes, I'm quite familiar. My family and I meowscar from our forest. But I'm confused. Were you going to let them have their way with your forest?"

"Um..." Put like that, it doesn't sound much better than the truth. "The people I planned to sell to were going to cut it down."

"What?" Mecara blinks a few times, gestures to the wolf, then that paw rests against the top of his mask.

"Look, I haven't done anything yet. I am just trying to ask if you'd help me so I wouldn't have to."

"I thought you loved the forest as much as I do." Mecara's eyes wander into space. "I can hear them, y'know. Even from here, all I have to do is listen." He flips to his other side with a dramatic flapping of his cape. "I'm going to sleep finally."

"Don't you need to cuddle to sleep?"

Mecara settles on the pillow he couldn't before.

"Did you just want to be the little spoon?"

Dumb question. Jamie flops onto his back, hoping Mecara is horny in the morning; sex has a way of making people forgive and forget.

*

Waking up before Mecara, Jamie strokes his stem-still invisible, but easier to find since it's laying on the bed. The meowscarada groans as he rolls to his back, allowing the wolf to straddle his growing arousal.

But as Mecara blinks the grogginess out of his eyes, he removes the paw from his petals. "I need something to eat."

"More of what you had last night?" Jamie slides up to the meowscarada's chest, his wolfhood dangling before him.

"No." Mecara wiggles out from under the wolf and hops off the bed. "I haven't had actual food since yesterday morning."

"Okay." Jamie sits on the edge of the bed. "What do you want? I'll cook you something."

"I think I'll just forage some berries." Mecara crosses and exits the room, forcing the wolf to rush to keep up.

"I've got some oran in the fridge."

But the meowscarada heads for the door instead. "I prefer mago and there's some near my den." He twists the doorknob the wrong way and jerks it forward and back. "How does this mechanism work? You make it look so easy."

"I'll help you, but can we talk for a bit first?" Jamie pulls at the meowscarda's shoulder in an attempt to get him to face him. "I understand that what I was going to do is wrong, but I haven't done anything yet."

Mecara places his foot on the door and tears the knob out. "Sca!" He throws the knob towards the living room, thankfully clanging harmlessly on the coffee table. "The point isn't what you've done; the point is you're not who I thought you were." He sighs before turning around. "And I just need to think that through, so let me out."

"I can't even open it now, but there's a back-"

Jamie freezes as the meowscarada's claws burn with dark energy. He spins and slashes the door so cleanly he has to kick the pieces off the frame. The wolf chases, but by the time he's outside the green-white blur is down the steps and out of view.

Why'd he even bother? He knows he'll never keep pace with the meowscarada, and if he allowed Jamie to, what then? He has nothing to say he hasn't already; there's nothing he could do. Still, he wants to keep chasing, but instead he listens to reason and returns to the top of the stairs.

This is what he wanted, isn't it? For this random meowscarada to go away so he can sell the property without a hitch and move on with his life. The only problem with the way he did it is the doorframe with no door before him. Though he did get his balls drained, so it's a net positive.

Then why doesn't it feel like it?