Scars

of the Lost

By: Darkfang Magus

1

Catnip

Straga lay staring into the sky till morning, not trusting his sister to stay. This he finds to be quite unnecessary as she had slept soundly. Viki awakens quite chipper now that the adventure is decidedly underway. Groaning, Straga crawls away from the cold earth where he had lain so long. Barely awake, Straga the tiger ponders what they are going to eat, but his thoughts are skewed when his sister Viki makes the decision for them, "Let go hunting".

Straga rubs his bleary eyes, "hunting? And pray tell how do we intend to accomplish that".

"Well with all that training you did while I was away learning magic, you must have picked up some hunting skills." She gives him a dubious look.

"Nope."

"Then what did you spend all your time doing?!!"

"Reading mostly, though father did attempt to teach me the handling of a sword."

"So... so just stab a deer of something", Viki flails her arms indignantly.

"Well... By attempt, I meant he tried valiantly but finally gave up looking rather upset... Besides, you can use all those magics you've learned and we would be on easy street."

"Yeah right," she rolls her eyes, "I'm sure some animal would be happy to stand there while I create a giant impossible-to-aim ball of fire".

Arms folded to his chest, Straga stares her down, "then we forget this foolishness and head back".

The look she gives him would chill magma, "never". And that is the end of it. Walking in oppressive silence, they choose to leave food a topic for lunchtime. Their horses follow dutifully behind.

By noontime, Straga has far too many wishes for any genie to deal with. He wishes it weren't so hot, that he were at home reading, that he weren't hungry, that Viki's mentor hadn't been killed catapulting her into some insane quest of retribution, but most of all he wishes his sister weren't so blasted stubborn.

"Lets go home, Viki."

"Not that again."

"You don't even know who killed Pardus. Besides, he's an old friend of mother's, we shouldn't even be involved".

"I trained with him for three years, not to mention that I am responsible for what happened."

"Nonsense."

"Nonsense my foot, while he was in danger I was running away."

"You said that's what he told you to do, and you are apparently too inexperienced to have been any help."

"That doesn't make any difference Straga. I could have helped instead of leaving him to the cruelty of those soldiers. I can never forget that." Viki's eyes seems dark against her snow-white furred face.

"I wish you would because this whole thing is ridiculous. I should go back to the castle and tell them where you have gone."

"Good luck with that, ten minutes out and you wouldn't be able to find me; much less your way home."

"So what is your big plan?"

Viki smiles slyly, "we head west to the lands of men."

"Great", Straga mutters.

By nightfall, Straga again realizes he is starving. Asking Viki what she packed for food only gets him an abashed look.

"So we starve, is that it?"

"No, I've got an idea," Viki pulls a tent from her pack, "You get some food while I set up camp".

"How do you propose I do that?"

"We're proud descendants of tigers aren't we. Just go out there and do what comes naturally." Viki unsheathes her claws to accent the point.

"Yeah... this is bound to go over great, but I am so hungry at this point that I fail to care anymore." Frustrated, Straga wanders into the woods.

"Don't get lost", Viki quipps.

Straga fails to hold his tongue, "what kind of buffoon do you take me for?"

Four hours later, Straga sits at the base of a tree and wonders if Viki knows now the type of buffoon he is, because lost he is, and lost he believes he may remain for eternity. It had seemed a simple task of navigating via the moon, but upon spotting a squirrel he had delved deep into the brush. Not only had the prey escaped but it took him hours to find a clearing where the sky was visible, and by that time the moon had moved significantly.

"I dearly wish I was at home, instead of discovering various ways to die out here in the wilderness. Alas, out here wishes are like fishes, very unlikely found in the woods." Taking a deep breath, Straga heads in the general direction of the road, betting on finding luck or maybe a magic lamp.

Aggravated and somewhat worried by Straga's continued absence, Viki works around the camp. Desperate to keep herself busy, Viki the young tigress decides to brush the horses. She begins with her horse Abba, a youthful Arabian breed, hoping Straga will arrive to work on the mammoth Percheron he rides. At first the work is lame as ever, but when Viki runs her brush down the horse's belly she is pleasantly surprised to find a bit of pink protruding from Abba's sheath.

"You sure are enjoying this, aren't you boy."

Her continued ministrations soon reveal the full extent of the horse's shaft, causing Viki to stare down sheepishly, "Oops, better just let you cool off". She turns to Straga's Percheron who is snorting impatiently. "Okay Peyton, I'm coming." Viki runs her fingers through his mane while brushing the creature's side. Her head is bumped forward when Abba nuzzles her, "Hey, lay off." Viki moves away from Abba and works at Peyton's tail. Halfway through pulling the tangles loose she gets a glance of the Percheron's balls as they shudder inches from her hand. Viki barely notices when Abba comes over to rub his face against her shoulder. In her mind, thoughts of reaching out ever so slightly and touching the greats orbs before her seem ludicrously grand. Viki's eyes dart for a moment checking the surroundings for intruders. Satisfied of her isolation, Viki bites down lightly on her bottom lip as she raises a trembling hand forth.

Despondent, Straga again tries to ascertain his direction but the path becomes a mere guess. Cold wind digs into his striped fur, seeming to clutch the very flesh. The forest's sounds mock him, every cricket chirping happily in this obviously frightful landscape. Through thorn and bramble, Straga pushes onward until he reaches a dirt path. Straga examines the road closely, though giving it the title of a road is a bit charitable considering the uneven condition of its surface.

"But it does resemble the path we were on this morning. Of course I wasn't taking the time to annex the road's qualities at that time. It could just as easily head toward some hostile countryman."

Not wanting to remain in aporia, Straga takes the path wherever it may lead.

Viki's fingers are afire with nervous energy as she grazes the bristly fur surrounding Peyton's testicles. Her hand then envelops his right orb. Viki squeezes gently wondering at its mass, similar to that of an orange. Peyton's balls jiggle in her hand when his cock comes abruptly to attention pressing firmly to his belly and pulsing. With her free hand, Viki pushes back her long loincloth, and strokes her own tender sex. A finger slides in ever so slightly and Viki is lost in the passion of her forbidden act. Eyes rolled partly back, Viki handles Peyton's monstrous genitalia and vaguely realizes that her own horse Abba is rearing up behind her.

Suddenly, Abba comes down knocking the wind out of Viki while his rigid penis slides between her legs. Fretfully realizing that he will never fit, the tigress guides Abba's rod forward to be cradled by her crotch. The weight on her back is enormous, but bearable for a tigress. Viki gasps feeling his warm solid member mash her clit as she is lifted to tiptoes to accommodate his girth. Viki grabs Abba's tip and feels it slightly flare in her hand. Meanwhile she is keeping balanced by practically hanging from the Percheron's balls. After several minutes, the firm grip around his scrotum causes Peyton to flare as well, the head of his cock tripling in size. Viki frantically rubs her clit while her tight grip allows every pulse of blood through the Percreron's member to be run across her fingers. His shaking cock dribbles pre as the moment of release beckons. Seizing the moment, Viki now cumming profusely grabs one testicle in each hand and pulls down hard. Her feral smile widens as the Percheron explodes in orgasm. Seeing the warm fluid gushing forth reignites the tigress' hunger. Quickly dismounting, she cups her paws to catch the rush of warm semen. Viki is soon lapping up her reward hungrily like a cat into the cream.

After nearly an hour has passed, Viki decides her fur is quite clean enough and relents licking her paws. A crash through the nearby brush stops her heart. Frozen still, she whimpers low as the monster approaches. Fur wound with vines, Straga pushes his lanky frame into the clearing to find Viki berating him.

"Jeez, you scared me!" she slaps him shoulder. At her touch, Straga feels that she is still trembling.

"Pardon me, but I am to tired right now to argue", He falls flat next to the fire's warmth, relishing the respite.

"Where's the food?"

"Ran off."

Viki pouts momentarily, "Fine oh great outdoorsman, I'm not hungry anyways".

Himself starving, Straga wonders what madness has taken his sister now, but decides to leave that a subject for the morning.

**

The next day seems to Straga only more of the same long suffering death accompanied by the chorus of Viki's ramblings. By late afternoon, Straga decides to seriously push the subject of them returning.

"Viki, this is madness. We've no business in the western lands. In case you failed to notice, we aren't exactly human, and I have read of such horrors that occur to we so-called ferals under military rule".

Viki replies cheekily, "bah everything is books with you. If such things are true why's it I never met anyone from such... problematic company."

Straga breathes deeply, "well if they are killed on sight that doesn't leave much room for survivors, journals and books on the other hand tend to be overlooked during killing sprees."

"They could be written poorly."

"Viki, mother herself was in the battle of Pantheleon. Everyone there was killed regardless of creed."

"If everyone died, then how could she have lived?"

Her flippant comeback unsteadies Straga momentarily, "I do not know, she has little love to speak of those days."

"Then Straga, we find out for ourselves."

"You do realize how absurd that logic is, right?"

Viki fails to reply, instead exclaiming when she sees an establishment over the hill. "Hey, they might have beds and food".

Straga sighs, "mayhap, but how are two hobo tigers supposed to pay for such services".

"Quite simply oh brother of mine". Viki pulls a handful of stones from her satchel and holds them in her left hand.

Straga is boggled yet again by her absurdity. "Rocks?"

"Not just any rocks, these are iron ore".

"And?"

She waves a hand over them, "with a little magic, poof", when her hand passes, the stones have become gold nuggets, "Money".

"Nice trick, but very unethical."

"That's just like you, ruining fun with ethics. One day you will realize we are predators, ethics don't apply."

"Yeah well I am only going along with this because we are broke, so don't get any ideas."

Seemingly minutes later, they are seated at the inn awaiting a meal of steak and potatoes. Straga had tried in vain to explain to the waiter that neither of them could eat root plants, but alas it seemed their fur had already given him a bad enough impression of them to ignore such pleas. Straga was again upset to find that they had no water but instead the menu consisted of alchoholic beverages, and tea of unknown origin. Straga graciously passed on refreshments, but Viki decided to gamble on the tea. After an hour wait the waiter brings their meal and drops it harshly to the tabletop.

"Thanks", Straga says more to himself than the man. Before him lies a piece of what might have been meat before it was burned black and dry, at the side are four giant potatoes. Straga smiles, recognizing the irony, "guess he knew I didn't want earthen food".

"It's not all that bad Straga, eat up".

Straga lifts his finger to make a point but then notices her plate. At the side sits the smallest potato he had ever seen, it is more garnish than anything else, and in the middle is something which makes his mouth water, a steak so jucy it looks have barely touched flame. Viki lifts her glass in a toast "To our adventure".

"You really shouldn't drink that, it could be bad for.." Straga is cut off as she empties half the glass.

"Wow, this stuff is good", she turns to their waiter as he passes, "I love the tea, is there more?"

"Thank you miss, I'll be sure to bring more."

"Oke-dokey", Viki waves as he trundles off.

Straga tries valiantly to eat his steak but in time he feels that it may be beyond him, "What did they season this with, cinammon. I surely wish I had some water to wash everything down."

Viki, long done with her own meal and on her eighth cup of tea, leans forward giggling, "how about some tea".

Maybe a little. Viki nearly overturns the cup transferring it to him, then spontaneously giggles at that. Straga puts the glass to his mouth and breathes deeply. He is at once exhilarated and worried by what he finds. Straga takes one last quick whiff to ascertain his fears. Just the smell causes Straga's face to go all tingly; he leans forward to examine Viki whom has been drinking the stuff all night.

"Viki do you know what this is?" He brandishes the cup.

"Tea!!", she smiles cutely.

"Not just any tea, it's catnip. Do you at least realize what that means."

"Nope", she smiles again.

"By the name of my father, I cannot believe any mage could be so dumb. It means we have to get you out of here before you fall apart completely."

She stares at him, "Your all crooky lookin, yuh know that".

"I would guess that you are far beyond merely falling apart."

"Ids hot in here"

Straga hold out his palms toward her, "just stay here, I'll get our room key. Most likely you will be fine in a few hours time." Straga leaves his seat at a dead run nearly knocking over their waiter in the process.

"Sorry". Tripping over his own lanky feet, Straga turns the corner. At the front desk, he finds the owner having some manner of discussion with a dusty but heavily armored patron. Even the man's jet black hair seems gray when subdued by the sandy flecks.

Viki leans back on her bench and opens her tunic to let in some air. It's as if someone had built a fire underneath her. Wafting air over her face with the corner of her tunic, Viki breaths deeply, but is interrupted by a bout of the giggles.

Straga finds himself the audience of an ongoing debate. The tavern owner leans back in his chair, "regardless of you own opinions, you don't live quite so close to em' ."

The armored man strokes his finely trimmed goatee, "two months I've been managing this miserable side of the world and on the night I am to leave you say I've no understanding of what I have to report to the capital".

Viki slides free the bench, her sensuous body quickly gets the nearby patrons' attention when she stands.

"Well girl, you selling?"

Viki gives him a quizzical look "Sell whud?"

"Yourself of course"The unkempt man ribs his friend with an elbow, "real quick witted this one". Looking back to Viki's confused expression, he turns, "How's this for starters, you get on that table and give us a good show, and there will be two silvers in it for you".

Viki giggles uncontrollably, "OK".

Waiting for the owner to shut up, Straga interjects but is ignored.

The owner leans forward in his chair, "Yes Price, I don't care what rank you carry. Until you've lived here a good long time you cannot appreciate how dangerous these ferals are. Just thieves and conjurers, the bunch of them." The conversation carries on for seemingly endless minutes.

Price meets his gaze, "My own men have proven to be more troublesome so far. For instance, just last week.."

"Ahem!" Straga stamps his foot.

The owner whips around "WHAT!"

Abashed, Straga steps back, "I have to pay for my meal and was hoping some rooms might be open."

"And they're aggravating to boot." The owner quips over his shoulder. Price just chuckles. "Alright, my man--cat--thing whatever you are. Meals are one silver each, and it'll be two gold coins for the night."

Straga chokes, "That seems a bit much".

"Then sleep in the woods where you belong!"

"No it's fine", Straga reaches into his pocket for the money, while checking around the corner for his sister. "What's she doing on the table, and where did her clothes go?" Starga leaves the question for later as he pays the man. "Okay key please!"

Toothy feline smile beaming, Viki rolls her hips invitingly toward an ever growing crowd as she pours the remaining tea down her silken belly-fur. Seeming to glow in her white fur against the dingy background little else appears to exist. Unable to contain himself, her sponsor steps forward, "fuck two silvers. If you come out to the barn with me I'll give you everything I have." Viki daintily takes his outstretched hand. "Lead on muh funny liddul frund."

The owner stares slack-jawed at the table where Straga had lain his funds. Curiosity peaked, Straga look too. There stacked on the wood is a small pile of pebbles.

"This a joke, or do you really think this is money where you come from?"

"Uhm wait, I..." Straga checks his pockets again. Meanwhile, the owner's face turns an unpleasant shade of purple. "You know what, maybe I don't actually have any money. Forget the room then."

"Unless you can miraculously bring back that meal then we have a problem."

"I could go catch something."

"Yeah right, and then run off." he wraps a meaty hand around Straga's slim wrist. Even though the tiger is well over a foot taller than the man, he feels powerless in that vicelike grip. The man grunts as he snatches a machete from the wall, "there's two ways we deal with thieves; I take the head or the hand; your choice" He smiles through rotten teeth.

Straga feels his heart drop.

"Now there will be none of that", Striding through the would-be battle scene, Price tosses some coppers on the table, "That should cover it". He turns to Straga who seems frozen, "I would suggest you start running now."

Straga blinks to find his arm is free, "Yes sir, should I find you again this debt will be paid back tenfold I swear."

"That's nice, now go." he wave a dismissive hand.

Straga turns so fast that his tail is a white blur as it snaps past the owner's face. "VIKI WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW!"

Rounding the corner, Straga finds his sister nowhere to be found. He turns to the nearest man, "There was a girl in here with white fur and blue markings, where did she go?"

"Barn I think."

"Why, at a time like this..." Straga heads out. The scene that greets him is perhaps more shocking than his previous scrape with death. Viki's lithe feline form is nude but for a belt as she lies atop a bale of hay, and over her is someone Straga had never seen before in his life. Thrusting for all he's worth, the disheveled man rocks Viki's body. Melodic sounds of a tigress in heat emblazon themselves upon Straga mind. If questioned about it later Straga couldn't tell if it had been hours or minutes but he stood frozen eyes locked on their rhythm until the man shuddered, his sperm rushed into the tigress' womb. Viki's womb, Straga's sister. Acts of white hot rage take little thinking, and Straga is sure he wasn't thinking, because if he had been he'd have used the sharp end of the pitchfork instead of walloping the man with the handle.

Feeling her mate dismount, Viki turns to find Straga standing over an unconscious form, pitchfork raised high. "Straga... whud habbuned".

Acting of his own volition again, Straga pulls Viki to her feet, "We have to leave right now. Understand?"

"Nope."

Straga grits his teeth, "well, we are going anyway". He frees their horses and seconds later the siblings are riding hard into the night; Straga wide-eyed with fear of retribution, and Viki smiling as she waves goodbye to the inn.

To be Continued.