FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Disclaimer: This is a work of homosexual pornography involving non-human creatures. If it is illegal for you to view this, or you're not into it, then don't read it.

This story is... excessive. The sex doesn't happen 'til quite late in it. I wrote most of this while on vacation, flying or driving to diverse exotic locales, and as a result, I wasn't trying to keep it concise or anything like that. So, I went on... a lot longer in many places than I needed to. I don't think it's boring, but you guys will have to tell me. I will love anybody who wants to give me some constructive criticism, 'cause I need it.

Lastly, I decided not to have the bangaa hissing all the time in this story. I've written stories where all my bangaa characters hiss like they do in the game, and it's just annoying holding down the 's' key.

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When he saw the wavering light of the campfire up ahead, he paused, gathering his thoughts. It was one thing to hear that there were bangaa camped out on the dunes; it was quite another thing to actually see proof of them. There was a jump in his stomach as he fixed his eyes on the distant flame: an equal mixture of fear and anticipation. Subconsciously, he reached down, and laid his hand over the hilt of the blade at his side, just to remind himself that it was there.

Of course, just because there was a campsite, it didn't necessarily mean that there were bangaa there. It could easily be that the caravan that had passed through his tribe's campsite the day before had made the entire thing up. Elder Kronecker always said that outsiders weren't to be trusted, and he was right about most things.

On the other hand, though, Elder Kronecker also said that bangaa didn't exist. So, reasonably, all Luke had to do was go and see who was gathered around that campfire up ahead, and he would know for certain whether Kronecker knew everything. If it was just another passing caravan, he should be safe, and if it was a group of bangaa... well, then either he'd sneak away before any of them noticed him, or he'd just have to convince them to let him leave on his own.

Luke set out, using the twinkling flame in the distance as his marker and the full moon in the sky as his light. It was unusually bright tonight, which helped. Not that Luke needed it, of course. He was the uncontested strongest fighter and best tracker of his tribe. He had managed to learn all of the combat techniques of his people by the time he was fifteen, and he could find his prey's trail after a sandstorm. So, finding his way over the dunes in the dark was no less of an issue for him than fending off a few bangaa would be. If they existed, he reminded himself.

As he walked, he recalled in his head all of the tales he'd been told about the mythical other races. Occasionally, as a caravan passed through the desert, they would stop at the oasis that he and his tribe lived by, and share their stories. They spoke of great cities far beyond the desert, where hundreds of thousands of people lived. Not all of those people were humans. They spoke of other creatures, more similar to humans than they were to animals: the graceful viera, the wise nu mou, and the mischievous moogles.

However, the stories that Luke had always enjoyed most were the tales of the ferocious and proud bangaa. The idea of an entire race of natural born warriors sent a thrill through him every time he thought of it. Whenever he heard one of the members of the caravans speaking of them, telling a tale of some epic feat of strength or near-impossible technique, it made Luke more determined to one day set himself against such strength, and overcome it.

And so, as Luke drew closer to the fire, he was a bundle of tightly wound nerves. He kept finding himself reaching to the hilt of his blade, making sure that it was still there. He had to constantly remind himself to maintain the same pace, and not break out into a run. If it was a group of bangaa, which it probably wasn't, he would have to use all of his skill to avoid being seen or heard.

Eventually, Luke began making out figures around the fire. At first they were hazy and nondescript, but as he got nearer, he found his pulse quickening. Those shapes were too tall for humans; their movements too direct. He took a deep, excited breath, shivering in the cool air. Of course, it was always possible for them to just be other humans, maybe just from a different culture. Sometimes when the caravans came through, they had oddly shaped people; unnaturally tall or short, or squat or skinny. It wouldn't be too much of a stretch to assume that they were just humans of an unusually tall stature.

The closer he got to the flames, though, the more details he saw that lead him to believe that these were no human merchants. Their movement, firstly, was nothing like the sloppy bobbing of a human; they all walked with direct and purposeful strides, each one having a clear idea of what they were doing and where they were going. Every person in the camp had the same casual confidence in their movement; the confidence that only Luke and a few of the other stronger warriors in his tribe possessed.

Not to mention, he could soon make out even odder things. These creatures, whatever they were... from this distance... in the flickering light of their campfire... it almost looked like they had... tails?

For a moment, Luke stopped, and just stared at the shapes moving about the fire. He tried blinking to give his eyes some rest, but when he looked again, he still saw them: thick appendages pressing out from the bases of their backs, swaying casually as they moved. In the rational part of his mind that was still responsive and trying to reason things out, he figured that the tails must have been what allowed all of them to walk with such casual confidence.

This part of his mind was small, though, and almost inaudible to the human as he stared. They might be bangaa. They might actually be bangaa. All of the stories might be true. Elder Kronecker might be wrong. He let out a small, incredulous laugh at that, thinking about the possibility. He might actually have proof that Kronecker was wrong. Wouldn't that be something?

Finally, he managed to take the stupid grin off of his face and reign his excitement back in, shaking his head to clear it. What if they weren't bangaa? It was entirely possible that they were something else, some other odd creature or another.

But so what if they weren't? They were remarkably tall humanoids with tails! That alone was proof that there might be bangaa, and other remarkable and unheard of races out there. Luke could feel an entire world opening up in front of him, spanning out as far as he could see. In that single instant, he realized how restricting his life thus far had been, how little he actually knew of the world, and how much he could potentially see. He had never regretted his life with his tribe in the desert before, or found it restrictive in any way. This single realization, though, was sending his thoughts spinning, questioning all of the years he had spent living in the same spot, meeting nobody and seeing nothing that was new.

"My my my..."

At the sound of the voice, Luke's head shot up, and he jumped forward, turning in midair in the direction that the voice had come from. It had been close; far closer than Luke was comfortable with. He mentally berated himself for losing focus during his thoughts, and settled into a tense crouch as he landed. The fighter's feet touched against the sand without making a noise. His blade was already in his hands, the familiar weight easing his pulse.

His eyes scanned the darkness, and he cursed himself for staring at the campfire for so long. It would take time before he would be able to see properly. So, he simply relaxed his pulse, and strained his ears, listening for anything that could betray his opponent. Luke himself was motionless, hoping that his silent movement had made his watcher lose track of him. He held his breath, waiting for the sign... waiting for his cue to strike...

Abruptly, his entire body tensed, and he spun, swiping out with the blade on instinct. The weapon rang off of something hard, and Luke stepped back, trying to gain some distance. He still couldn't see his opponent; all he knew was that whoever it was, he was quiet, and if that block was any indication, he was an experienced fighter.

Luke swung his sword out blindly in front of him, focusing on keeping his steps measured as he retreated from the attacker. Keeping a firm footing was far more important than landing solid strikes when fighting on the dunes; one misplaced step could send you tumbling to the sand. More than once, he felt the vibrations and heard the sharp contact of metal on metal as the weapons connected.

Whoever he was fighting pressed on relentlessly, following Luke step for step. At one point, the human swung out, again trying to predict where his enemy would strike. He waited a breath for the vibrations and the ringing that would let him know he'd intercepted another attack, and then ducked, cursing beneath his breath. He just caught the flash of movement as something lunged in where is head had been, and he felt the displaced air ruffling his short hair. Knowing that he didn't stand a chance at this rate, the human brought his blade down violently with the strike, concentrating on the angle and speed of its descent. As he sliced, he felt the wind bending around the blade's edge, and then getting caught, carrying along with the point until he abruptly stopped the strike.

There was an instant of silence, and then a dull whoosh followed by a roar as the wind gathered and slammed down into the sand. Immediately, grains exploded upwards, filling the space between Luke and his opponent. The human smirked slightly as he heard his enemy curse, and then he stepped back quickly and silently, letting his dust cloud mask his retreat.

His ears strained for an instant, and he froze, hearing a soft whistling sound. He knew what it sounded like... but it couldn't be...

Abruptly, the whistle grew louder, and Luke's trained senses felt the wind bending, moving. He threw himself to the side, and felt more than saw a sharp blast of air slice through his sand cloud, sending grains of sand scattering over his rolling form. He felt the soft tremors in the sand as the attack landed against the side of the dune, and sent up another cloud.

Luke came back up to his feet, far noisier than he would have liked. He heard his enemy's approaching footsteps, hard and fast on the sand, and the human turned, bringing his weapon up. Even as it connected against steel, though, Luke was staring into the darkness, at the odd blurry outline he could now make out. His enemy knew how to render air. He'd thought that only the people of his tribe could pull off the complicated technique, but this person...

He stepped back and ducked beneath a strike, then stepped forward quickly, lowering his shoulder to slam it into his enemy's stomach. There was a gasp, and then Luke felt his opponent falling back several steps, trying to regain his balance. Luke stood up, and winced, shaking his arm out to deal with the shock to his shoulder. There was no way that his attacker was from his tribe. Nobody in his tribe had ever come close to matching him in battle, and surely none of them were so heavily muscled that it hurt to strike them.

Luke shook his head, and pressed forward again, not wanting to waste the advantage he'd bought himself. He could consider the implications after he'd defeated his enemy. For now, it was time to take advantage while the other fighter was off-balance.

He didn't even try to mask his footsteps this time; his feet thudded against the sand as he charged the off-balance attacker. His blade came around in a quick slash, but it met only air as the other fighter stumbled back; apparently Luke's opponent still had enough presence of mind about him to notice incoming attacks.

As the large figure flailed back a step, Luke felt the tell tale, sudden halting of the wind all around him. The young man jumped back, and the sand erupted at his feet, sending a spray of the stuff into his face. He stumbled forward, coughing and shaking his head to clear the sand from his eyes.

He swiped out with his blade again, blindly. He felt his weapon catch against something; it didn't give enough resistance for it to be skin, so he assumed that he must have just caught a bit of his opponent's clothing. Pressing his advantage, Luke took another step forward, swiping his blade back across.

This time, it met with solid steel. The sound of impact was sharp, and it sent an intense ringing up into his wrists. He felt more than he heard or saw his opponent moving, and he stepped back, stumbling a bit in shock. His second attack had been incredibly quick; there was no way that his opponent could have mustered a block in time to counter it.

He took step after step back, giving ground again as his blade danced in front of him, making an effective barrier of steel between himself and the attacker. He only felt a single strike ring off of his weapon during the retreat; apparently, despite their incredible reflexes, Luke's attacker could see no better than him.

Finally, the cascade of sand stopped. Luke shook his head, letting grains fall from his short-cropped hair. He raised his head, and his eyes, finally having adjusted to the sparse light, widened.

The creature rushing towards him was not human. He couldn't see it in great detail, but it was far too tall and broad in its shoulder to be a man, and as it approached, he could make out more details. Luke raised his blade, only just managing to hold a block as he stared at the creature's long, pointed snout. He fell back another step, swiping distractedly as he stared at the long appendage hanging down from behind the figure; a tail, he realized.

He took a final step back, and hadn't even set his block correctly before his enemy's weapon slammed into it. Luke had to wrench his wrist out to the side to keep the blade from being torn from his grip. He shook his head, trying to clear it, and then brought the weapon back across in another block. Right. He could marvel over the creature later, after he'd kept his head attached to his neck.

He ducked beneath his enemy's next slash, and then came forward, slamming his shoulder into that muscled chest again. This time, Luke braced for the impact, and so there was far less pain as he collided with the muscled flesh.

His opponent fell back a step, grunting. In a remarkable show of balance, though, the attacker managed to keep himself from falling back any further, setting his feet in the shifting sands. He stepped in, and lunged out at Luke.

Luke sidestepped the blow, his eyes flicking over to look at the weapon. In the darkness, he couldn't be sure, but it didn't look like a sword, or any other type of conventional weapon he'd ever seen. It looked like three long blades were strapped down against his opponent's hand, almost serving as extensions to the creature's knuckles. He noted the difference with no curiosity, though; instead he regarded it as a cold calculation, understanding in his mind how that would affect his opponent's movements and attacks.

Luke brought his sword across and slammed it into the base of the blades, putting enough weight behind the attack to force his opponent into an off-balance spin. The creature staggered half a step, and then threw its momentum into the motion, twirling faster. Luke was confused for a moment, but he understood a moment later as pain blossomed out from his shins, and he fell forward with a cry. He rolled through the sand as he landed, cursing himself for forgetting his opponent's tail.

He came back up to his feet, and turned, his blade leading. It slammed against his opponent's weapon, and the two combatants held themselves there, each one leaning into their respective strikes. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Luke was impressed. He was holding his blade in two hands, and the creature was holding its block with a single arm.

Abruptly, the other creature spoke, and its voice sent an odd shiver up Luke's spine. It was a deep voice, with the slightest hints of sibilance tracing through every word. "Hmm... impressive for a human."

Luke's focus shattered for a moment as he heard that voice. The differences from a human were subtle at best, but the fact that they were there at all confirmed all of his suspicions of the past years of his life. He suddenly found himself whispering, "You're a bangaa, aren't you?"

There was a pause. Then, that voice spoke again. "Indeed I am."

Luke felt his chest rising and falling, his eyes wide as he stared at the shape in the darkness. "So that means you--"

Suddenly, a sharp wind slammed into him, the pressure centring around his stomach. His voice cut out in a breathless yelp, and his feet left the ground. For a few long moments, he didn't feel anything, aside from the force of the intense current of wind carrying him along. Then, his back hit the sand, and he slid for a few feet, the grains rough on his skin.

As soon as he stopped moving, he gasped for air to fill his lungs, and scrabbled to get his hands underneath him. He began pushing himself up, but was forced back down as the bangaa planted a foot on his chest. The human collapsed beneath the added weight, and lay there, staring up.

The bangaa looked down upon him, a curious look on his face. Slowly, he knelt down over the human, and he reached over to grab the hilt of Luke's blade out of his hand. The human tried to keep his grip tight on the weapon, but his limited air made it difficult.

"You held onto your weapon after taking an air render at point blank range."

Luke glared up at the reptilian face. "So long as you still have your weapon, you can still fight."

The creature raised an eyebrow. "And now that you no longer have your weapon, you're helpless?"

"That's not what I said."

The reptile stared at him for a bit longer. "No. I guess it isn't."

The two were silent for a few moments, each one sizing the other up. As he took in the bangaa's body, Luke understood why it had hurt so much to hit it. The creature was a mountain of solid muscle, all of it well-toned. From this position, the human guessed that the bangaa stood at least six feet tall.

Abruptly, the foot lifted off his chest, and the bangaa took a few steps back. Luke immediately sat up, but he didn't get to his feet, yet. Instead, he watched the bangaa carefully, in case he tried to strike again.

The bangaa gave him a curious look. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

"The last time we tried to speak you delivered a surprise attack on me, after having ambushed me when we met. Forgive me if I don't trust you."

"Perhaps you don't recall." The bangaa grinned. "It was not I who first drew my weapon, my friend."

Luke blinked at that, and thought back. Well... no, perhaps the bangaa hadn't exactly attacked him outright...

"Well if you want me to trust you, why don't you return my weapon?"

The bangaa laughed openly at that. "I'm sorry, my friend, but while I would like you to trust me, I don't quite trust you. Now come, why don't you visit our campsite?"

Luke blinked again. "Just like that? You're just going to ask me to your camp?"

"Indeed," the bangaa nodded. "My name is Bertrand. I'm curious to learn more about a human that can fight on par with a bangaa."

The human was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then, slowly, he stood up, and brushed sand off of his clothes. "Luke." He kept thinking for a few moments. He was having trouble processing there being even one bangaa. The idea of walking into a full camp of them... "Alright."

The bangaa grinned, then turned and gestured towards the campfire. Luke nodded stiffly, and started walking. He couldn't keep the tension out of his stance, any more than he could keep that voice in the back of his head from telling him that the bangaa was making him go first to make sure he couldn't strike at him from behind.

The two walked along in silence for a short time, Luke occasionally glancing back at Bertrand. He tried his hardest to hold in his curiosity and wonder, and had to keep reminding himself that not only was this creature a person with a name and a personality, but also that he was a trained and dangerous warrior. Anybody that could defeat Luke in combat, even using a sneak attack like that, was somebody that deserved cautious respect.

It was as he was turning ahead from looking back at Bertrand again that the bangaa piped up. "You don't see many outsiders, do you?"

"What?" Luke stammered.

"You haven't stopped staring at me since I showed up." The bangaa shrugged, that confident grin still on his face. "You don't see many bangaa, do you?"

Luke watched him for a few moments, gauging his expression. Bertrand had already defeated him in combat and captured him; there couldn't be too much risk in telling him the truth. The human turned away and kept walking as he said stiffly, "Until I saw you, I thought that the only things living in the world were either humans, monsters, or animals."

The bangaa was silent for a moment, plodding along behind the human through the sand. "So... you've never seen a bangaa? Or a nu mou? Or a moogle or a viera or a seeq or--"

"Seeq?" Luke spun around, staring. "I've at least heard stories of the others, but what's a..." His voice trailed off as the bangaa began laughing.

"You have much to learn of the world, human. But come; perhaps we can give you a bit of culture before the night is over."

The two kept walking, with Luke keeping his head low. He didn't know why, but he felt a profound sense of shame at his own lack of knowledge in the face of Bertrand's experience. They moved on in silence, until they began approaching the campfire.

It was at the top of a tall dune, and from quite a distance away Luke could make out the three wagons gathered in a loose ring around it. Not far from the main camp, there were several chocobo, their reigns tied to a large stake driven into the ground. As Luke and Bertrand approached, the human could make out their bright yellow colouring; so different from the sandy brown and off-white plumage that he was used to.

As they began climbing that last dune, Luke finally turned his eyes up to look directly at the campfire. He'd been trying to avoid it for some time, but now that he was actually entering the camp, he knew that he would have to face the situation.

There were probably about a dozen figures gathered around the flames. As he'd noticed from a distance, all of them were massive by human standards, the shortest probably being about six feet tall. All of them were well-muscled, and though he had no experience with such things, Luke immediately got the feeling that their scales were weathered by exposure to sun and wind.

As soon as Luke and Bertrand reached the edge of the ring of light, all of the bangaa looked up towards them from whatever they were doing. Luke couldn't help but freeze; he wasn't intimidated. No, he'd faced down monsters many times in the past, and a few dozen lizard men were nothing. It was more in shock, and maybe awe, at the fact that these creatures he'd imagined for so many years existed, and that so many of them were gathered in front of him all at once.

"I see that your scouting mission turned up something very interesting, Bertrand." Luke's eyes darted to the bangaa that had spoken. As soon as he saw her, he knew that she was a female. There wasn't anything obviously showing it; true, her voice was slightly higher in pitch than Bertrand's, and her body did have some more curvature to it, but she was just as well built as any of the others gathered around the fire. She sat alone on a large box, and her face was heavily lined with age. When he saw the way that the others deferred to her as soon as she spoke, Luke immediately knew that she was some sort of elder in the group.

As Luke was processing all of this, Bertrand stepped forward until he was beside the human. "I found this human watching the campfire a few hundred metres to the west."

The elder looked Bertrand up and down, and then her eyes settled on the blade that he'd shoved into his belt. "That isn't your weapon. The two of you weren't playing nicely, were you?"

Bertrand faltered a bit. "There was... a misunderstanding."

Luke snorted, and Bertrand shot a quick look over at him. The elder also looked at the human, and then raised an eyebrow. "A human managed to make you so nervous that you wouldn't give him back his weapon?"

"He's strong. It was a very close battle. He claims to have never met a bangaa before, but he fights with all the fury and discipline of one."

That caused the other bangaa to raise an eyebrow. She slowly rose up to her feet, and approached Luke. She wore long red robes, heavily creased and wrinkled from obvious areas where armour would normally be worn overtop. A heavy-looking sword hung at her hip, and she moved as though she'd been born with it at her side.

She stepped up to Luke, and looked down carefully at him. Luke was unsure, but he felt that he was being judged. He stood straighter, and met her deep-set, dark eyes.

"You must be a warrior from one of the tribes."

"I am." Luke kept his voice level, though it took conscious effort.

"Bertrand says that you fight nearly on par with him... and you must be good if you managed to get within a few hundred metres of our camp without being detected."

"The best in my tribe."

A look crossed the old bangaa's face. It might have been interest... or was it amusement? "Well... if you can match Bertrand, I'm not surprised by that. Come, though. Please take a seat with us. We have other guests with us tonight; one more is welcome."

She gestured towards one of the free firkins arranged around the fire. Luke eyed her cautiously, then asked, "If I'm your guest... can I have my blade back?"

There was dead silence throughout the campsite; each crackle of the fire seemed deafening as everybody watched the elder. Her eyes flashed once, though whether it was in anger or surprise, Luke didn't know.

After a long moment, she glanced over to Bertrand. "You may as well return that weapon. You can't use it, and I doubt he could do much with it before we took him down."

There was a silent exhale of breath throughout the camp as Bertrand nodded quickly, then passed Luke back his weapon. The human sheathed it at his hip, and then went to take a seat by the fire. A large pot hung from a tripod over the flames, its contents boiling. As the human got himself comfortable, the elder turned to one of the other bangaa sitting by the fire.

"Why don't you go and tell our guests that dinner is almost ready? I imagine that Cantor will be very interested in meeting this young man."

The bangaa bobbed his head, and hopped up to his feet. As he walked over to one of the wagons, Luke let his eyes scan the rest of the assembled group. Most of them had already gone back to whatever they'd been doing before he and Bertrand had showed up. A few were tending to weapons; sharpening massive swords almost as long as Luke was tall, or oiling the tips of large, heavy-looking spears. He saw that two of the bangaa were leaning over a crate set up between them with a number of bits of card arranged before them. Luke had seen members of the trading caravans that visited his tribe playing with marked cards like these before. Sometimes, they even played for gil, or for anything else that they could possibly trade.

Suddenly, another firkin was dropped down into the sand next to Luke, and Bertrand plopped down onto it. "Well, I'll give you this, human: you've got balls." Luke glanced over to the bangaa in confusion, and the lizard nodded towards the blade on the human's hip. "The last time I saw somebody make a demand like that of Augusta... well, that was the last time I saw them."

Luke felt his stomach jump a bit, but he kept his face even. "I don't like being around people I don't know without my weapon at hand."

"Bullshit," Bertrand snorted. "From what you've told me, you've never met anybody that you don't know. Well, not until now, at least."

Before Luke could reply and tell the bangaa that he had, indeed, met people from outside of his tribe, the bangaa that had been sent off earlier returned. Behind him came two figures, the sight of whom caused Luke's jaw to drop.

They were short, hunched over forms, much of their large bodies covered in long, loose robes. All that Luke could really make out of them were their small, deft hands and their faces. They had muzzles, but unlike the bangaa's sharply pointed ones, these creatures' faces were bluntly rounded out. Also, while it was difficult to make out in the firelight, Luke thought that their skin looked unnaturally pale; almost greyish in shade.

"Nu mou..." Luke breathed.

"Yup," Bertrand confirmed for him. He had a wary look on his face as he watched them approaching. "Magic users, every one of them. You better watch yourself around them. They can wreak more havoc than four bangaa if you don't keep track of them."

One of the two nu mou was clearly much older than the other, and this one's eyes immediately fell on Luke and Bertrand. He walked right up to them, and then held his hand out to the human. "I was told that we had a visitor from one of the local tribes. My name is Cantor; it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Luke," the human replied carefully, reaching out to take the nu mou's hand. It was strong when it clasped around Luke's fingers, surprising the human. Perhaps these creatures weren't quite as dainty as they looked.

"A pleasure, Luke. This is Mathias, my student." He gestured to the younger nu mou, who quickly bobbed his head to the human.

The next few minutes were a confusing blur to Luke. Soon enough, though, everybody in the camp had a bowl of the thick stew from the pot, and they were eating in silence. Luke was aware of everybody's eyes occasionally flicking over to him, and he couldn't help but grin to himself. Here he was sitting down to dinner with a group of giant lizards and two apparent sheep people, and they thought he was the strange-looking one.

"So, Luke..." Augusta, the elder from earlier, said. "This is really your first time meeting with another race?"

"Yes," the human nodded. He felt the attention of everybody in the camp focusing on him, and he consciously straightened his posture. "Many caravans come through this area, but they're always made up of humans. We've heard rumours of the other races before, but... well, Elder Kronecker always said that they were just that: rumours."

"I've heard of it before," Cantor broke in. He and Mathias were sitting on the opposite side of the circle from Luke. Watching them, the human couldn't help but think that they were sitting closer together than they had to. "Many people believe that there are tribes of viera in the deep Materiwoods that have no contact with the outside world... or that there are isolated populations of gria that live on some of the higher mountain peaks in the Roda range."

"You'll confuse the boy, Cantor, talking of so many races and things he could never imagine." Augusta glanced back to the human, whose eyes had glazed over a bit at the mage's words. "Now, it is obvious that, although you've never met any other species or left the desert, you're curious."

"I guess I am... no more than anybody else would be, though," Luke said, sitting back and considering. "It's not as if I could pass up the chance to see whether the rumours were true."

"Is that wanderlust I'm picking up?" Cantor asked, grinning.

Augusta shot the nu mou a look, and he quickly shut his mouth, though the smile remained on his face. She spoke to Luke, but her eyes remained fixed on the mage. "Indeed. I can't help but notice that you're the only member of your tribe that actually decided to come and see if we were real, though. You can't have been the only one to hear that we were camped here."

The human's forehead creased. "Well... I guess not."

Augusta fixed him with a hard look. "Would I be right in assuming that now that you've found out some of the rumours are true, you're curious to find out about all the others?"

"I hadn't thought about it. I might."

Augusta raised her eyebrows. "Oh, is that so? You might? Come now. You've just met a warrior who is your equal in strength; maybe even your better. You can't tell me that you're satisfied with that. You have to get stronger and work harder until you are better than him."

Bertrand snorted beside Luke. "Unlikely."

Before Augusta could shoot another glare, Luke spoke, his voice hard. "What makes you think that I need to prove anything to anybody? I'm strong enough as it is."

"No... that's not true at all," the elderly bangaa grinned. Slowly, she stood up. All of the gathered bangaa leaned back almost imperceptibly as she began walking around the fire towards the human. "You're the best in your tribe for a reason. You're competitive; almost as competitive as I am. And your competitive nature won't let you go back to your tribe knowing that you might not be the best."

As she drew closer, Luke stood up suddenly, meeting her eyes again. She stopped, giving him his space as he spoke. "You're assuming that I'm not stronger than Bertrand. He didn't tell you how our battle ended. He caught me by surprise while I was trying to talk with him. I have no doubt that I could beat him if we fought on even terms."

Augusta's smile widened at that. She glanced over to Bertrand. "Well, then. How about we test that theory, eh?"

Luke felt Bertrand tensing next to him. "As you wish, elder."

The elder nodded slowly. Then, she turned to face the rest of the circle, and ordered, "Back yourselves up. They'll need plenty of room." She turned back to the two, and then nodded. "Take off your weapons."

"What?" Luke and Bertrand spoke as one.

"The human feels that you took an unfair advantage, Bertrand. So, no advantages for either of you this time. No weapons, no armour. Let's see what you can do unarmed."

Bertrand nodded, and began removing the weapon attached to his knuckles. Luke, though, simply cast a glance over at the bangaa, then back to Augusta. "He probably weighs twice as much as me."

"Probably."

The human slowly raised an eyebrow. "How am I supposed to beat that without a weapon?"

"A human's greatest weakness is also their greatest strength," Cantor called over. He and Mathias had backed away, but both of them were staying much closer to the fire, and thus to where the fight would be, than the bangaa. "A human will never have the strength of a bangaa; however, a human can wield magic that no bangaa could dream of, or handle a bow with incredible skill, or move in perfect silence and strike before the bangaa would ever hear them." The old nu mou slowly stretched his arms out, then cocked his head to the side, as though thinking of something. "That is, of course, if you've spent time learning something other than how to swing that sword around..."

Luke eyed Cantor, not entirely sure whether or not the mage was mocking him. Eventually, though, he just shook his head, and pulled the blade from his belt. He placed it in Augusta's open hand, and turned to face Bertrand.

The bangaa had already removed the device on his knuckles, and was pulling his shirt over his head. Luke couldn't help but gulp as the lizard's chest was revealed, his smooth scales stretched tightly over large, well-honed muscles. He briefly recalled how much it had hurt hitting that chest with his shoulder, and shook his head. This wasn't going to be fun.

Finally, the two of them faced each other. The rest of the bangaa had backed off to the very edges of the fire's light, their eyes glinting occasionally as they reflected the flames. Cantor and Mathias remained slightly closer, the younger nu mou clearly preparing himself in case the fight should get too close. The older of the pair, though, had his eyes fixed on Luke, a curious look plastered across his face.

From the ring of bangaa, Augusta's voice called out. "Begin."

Both of them lunged forward, not hesitating. Bertrand's fist came in, and Luke swung a hand out, slapping against the side of the forearm to try and force it out. The human's eyes widened, and he had to pull his head uncomfortably to the side to fully avoid the hit; the bangaa's attack had been very strong. Too strong for him to block entirely.

He tried not to think about the implications, though, and instead just thrust forward with one hand, trying to get a shot to the bangaa's gut. Bertrand didn't try to dodge the hit; he simply stood there and took it. Luke's knuckles erupted with pain as he hit the hard, layered muscles. The tall bangaa stumbled back a step, winded by the blow.

Luke backed off as well, rubbing the knuckles on his right hand. There was a sharp pins and needles sensation in his wrist, and flexing his fingers only made it worse. Between the thickness of those scales and the toughness of the muscles, he had probably hurt himself as much as Bertrand with that hit.

By this point, Bertrand had regained his breath. The tall bangaa stood up straight again, and locked his eyes onto Luke. The human met his gaze, and the two of them began circling each other, using the campfire as their pivot. Luke made especially sure to keep the fire between them. He needed time to think... to come up with a plan of some sort. He could use the fire as a barrier to at least slow the bangaa's next attack down...

And then, Bertrand turned sharply and ran straight for Luke. The human took a step back, surprised. Had Bertrand gone insane, or did he actually think that he could jump over the--

The human's thoughts ground to a halt as Bertrand actually stepped through the flames. He placed his foot squarely on the other side, not flinching as the tongues of fire reached up to lick at his scales. Luke didn't even move as the bangaa came out on the other side, and brought his fist around. At the last moment, he managed to regain his senses, and tried to raise his hands to block.

The fist crashed into the side of his skull, sending stars across his vision. A moment later, cooling sand was grinding against his cheek, and all the weight was gone from his legs. It took a few more seconds after that for Luke to realise that he was on the ground.

The camp was silent as Bertrand slowly crouched down next to Luke, the bangaa reaching out to prod the human in the side. He leaned closer, and hissed to him, "Come now... you're stronger than this. I know you've got more fight in you."

Luke growled when he heard that. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, willing the spots in his vision to go away. Then, abruptly, he rolled away from the lizard, coming up into a crouch facing him. Not giving the bangaa a chance to react, he whipped his hand out, feeling the wind bending around it.

Air blasted out from his fist, slamming into Bertrand's chest with the force of a club. The lizard slipped backwards through the sand, barely keeping his balance on the shifting grains. Not wanting to give his opponent the chance to recover, the human scrabbled up to his feet, and rushed forward, sending another blast of air out at the bangaa.

Bertrand looked up when he heard the wind whipping again, and this time he managed to duck. As the blast went over his head, he cupped his fingers into the sand. He came back up quickly, whipping the handful of grains at Luke's face.

The human lowered his head, sheltering his eyes as he ran through. He glanced back up as quickly as possible, and saw that Bertrand was already swinging at him again. Luke stepped out of the way as quickly as he could, and brought his elbow across. It slammed into Bertrand's cheek, and sent the bangaa staggering away.

Luke balled up for a moment, grunting as pain blossomed from his elbow. He stood back up quickly, though, surprising everybody. He faced Bertrand, who had already regained his balance. The human stood strong, though he kept his right arm, the one that he had hit the bangaa with, slightly more sheltered.

Again, the bangaa made the first move. He threw a hand out forward, and just as Luke had done before, sent out a concentrated blast of air. Seeing it coming, Luke rushed forward, lowering his head. He grunted as it collided with him, slowing his momentum drastically. The wind shed around him, whipping his hair out and causing his shirt to billow with the force. Eventually, though, it broke, and Luke stumbled forward the last few steps towards Bertrand.

Luke swung, and Bertrand blocked the punch squarely. The next few moments were a blur, as both of them swung and blocked, neither of them managing to land more than a glancing blow. The few times they were hit, Bertrand seemed to just shrug it off, while Luke had to regain his balance and bite back yelps of pain.

In the middle of the exchange, Luke pulled his head out violently to the side, letting a fist go by just shy of his face. He grabbed the arm, and gave it a hard shove, trying to push the bangaa off-balance. To his surprise, though, Bertrand went with the push, spinning in place. For a moment, Luke was surprised; why would Bertrand leave his back exposed like that?

His answer came a moment later when something hard slammed into his ankle from the side. Caught completely by surprised, Luke didn't stand a chance as the bangaa's muscled tail swept his legs out from under him. He fell back, cursing himself for falling for the same trick twice, and landed heavily in a sitting position in the sand.

Luke had just positioned his hands to push himself back up to his feet when Bertrand came back around, and lunged at him. The bangaa slipped his forearm up under Luke's chin, and used his body weight to push the human back. Bertrand ended up on top of the human, keeping him pinned with the arm against his throat.

The two stayed in that position for a short while, glaring into each other's faces. Both of their forms were slick with sweat, and the firelight glistened off of them as their chests heaved.

Suddenly, a voice spoke, and both the human and the bangaa looked over at its source in surprise. Both had almost forgotten their audience in the struggle.

"Remarkable," Augusta said. She was sitting on a barrel just on the edge of the fire's light. She was wresting her chin on her hand, and her eyes were intense as they looked the two combatants over. "You are certainly one of the most skilled human fighters of your age that I've ever met. Wouldn't you say so, Cantor?"

"Indeed," the mage replied. He, too, was watching very closely. His apprentice, beside him, kept looking between the duelling pair and his teacher, a curious expression on his face. "Your tribe is lucky to have a warrior as proficient as you."

"What are you talking about?" Luke gasped back. His voice was hoarse, both from the pressure being exerted on his throat and exhaustion from the battle. "I lost. It was barely even a contest."

"True," Augusta nodded. "That said, although Bertrand beat you, you definitely outfought him. You were faster, your movements better placed, and your attacks far smarter. If it weren't for Bertrand's scales and him having at least a hundred pounds on you, you'd have beaten him easily."

Luke processed that for a few moments, then turned his gaze back to the bangaa on top of him. The large warrior was still panting, but his gaze was steady as he nodded to the human. "She's right."

The human's forehead creased as he considered this. Then, at length, he muttered, "So you're saying that I would probably win in a battle against a weaker bangaa?"

A few hissing snickers rang out around the campfire. Luke looked about in confusion as Augusta silenced them with a glare. Once silence was restored, she stood up off of her barrel, and walked over closer to the two fighters. "You might just be able to. That said, there's something I really ought to tell you. Bertrand isn't the strongest fighter even in our small group. I might even count him as one of our weaker members."

There was silence after that announcement. On top of the human, Bertrand rolled his eyes in annoyance. He'd been enjoying the feeling of being more powerful than the human. Luke, though, didn't seem to be thinking about that at all. His eyes had gone unfocused as he considered that prospect. Both Cantor and Augusta thought that he was particularly strong for a human... and yet, he hadn't been able to measure up to a relatively weak bangaa. That meant that that there was an entire race of people out there that were far more powerful than him.

"I think you may have broken the poor boy, Augusta." Cantor had gotten up from his own seat to approach the trio in the middle of the ring. Bertrand and Luke had yet to move, and so the elderly nu mou knelt down beside the two so that he could be closer to their level. His voice was kind as he addressed Luke. "You ought to be proud of your abilities. I'm certain that if you were to use a blade, you would be able to face down most opponents on your own. Not to mention, you can always broaden your arsenal... improve a bit."

"How?" the human muttered. His voice was slightly distant, and there was a drained quality to it. "I train for hours every day. What more can I do?"

"I'm not talking about improving your melee abilities." The nu mou shook his head, sighing. "Humans are remarkably single minded for such adaptable creatures... If you keep working on your combat abilities at the same rate, then you will always remain one of the strongest humans of your age, but lag far behind similarly skilled bangaa. However, you can still improve quite a bit if you use your natural abilities as a human to learn something else. Some attack magic, for example, or more stealth-oriented abilities!"

The human stared up at the nu mou, before glancing to Augusta again. "You don't think I can measure up to a bangaa?"

"I don't think it's very likely."

Luke lay back against the sand, then, sighing. Bertrand, feeling the human's muscles relaxing, glanced back down to him in concern. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," the human replied. "But... that is very disappointing."

Again, there was silence all throughout the campsite. The only sound was the crackling of the campfire, the tongues still sending flickers of light glistening across Bertrand and Luke's sweaty bodies.

"Well, I think that's enough excitement for one night, at least," Augusta murmured. "Everybody get to bed. Luke, you're more than welcome to stay with us for the night. We intend to leave at dawn, and you can accompany us to a point closer to your tribe, if you wish. For now, though, good night."

With that, the bangaa around the campfire began disbanding. A few of them headed into the backs of the wagons, while a few more took shelter in makeshift tents that they'd pitched in the sand.

Bertrand picked himself up, and brushed the sand off of his scales. Noticing that Luke was still lying prone, the bangaa reached a hand down to him. Luke, however, just lay there with a dazed look on his face. Bertrand began sighing, thinking he would have to heave the human up bodily, when he felt a soft hand on his shoulder. He glanced back, and saw Mathias, Cantor's apprentice. The young nu mou nodded towards the human on the ground, and Bertrand shrugged, stepping out of the way.

Mathias knelt down next to the human, and looked him over once. Then, he casually said, "You know... you do have another option."

Both Luke and Bertrand started at that, and stared at the nu mou, surprised. The human spoke first. "What are you talking about?"

"Wait for the others to go to sleep... my master will want to talk to you in private." He turned and walked away, giving a small twitch of his orange-furred tail. "And stop wallowing. You put on a nice fight, there."

The two of them watched him heading back to the wagon that he and his master were sharing. The elder nu mou was already gone, having disappeared as soon as Augusta called for the lights out. There were still a few bangaa hanging around the camp, putting away extra bits of cooking gear or discussing things before bed.

Finally, Bertrand glanced back down to Luke. "Are you going to stay down there until the nu mou come back?"

The human sighed, and accepted the bangaa's hand. Once he was back on his feet, he began brushing himself off, trying to get the sand from his clothes for the second time that night. By now, they were also wet with cooled sweat, and Luke couldn't help but shiver at the chill that was beginning to descend upon the desert.

Bertrand glanced over at him curiously. "Didn't dress warmly enough? I thought you'd lived here your entire life?"

"I have. That said, I didn't expect to be doing this much fighting tonight; I didn't bring an extra set of clothes for the chill."

"Well you might not be needing those clothes much longer,"

Luke and Bertrand turned, hearing that, and saw Cantor and Mathias approaching. Everybody else had retreated into their shelters for the night by now, leaving the four of them alone in the fire's light. The three younger men waited as Cantor casually took a seat on one of the barrels around the fire. He arranged his robes meticulously around him, and then looked up at the other three.

"Well I see that Mathias managed to arouse your interests. That's good; I hate it when young people have no curiosity."

"Oh, please Master." Mathias rolled his eyes, surprising both Luke and Bertrand. "What with how much you let me tell them, they didn't really have any other choice. If you'd let me actually tell them what you're proposing, then--"

"Then I would have missed the looks on their faces."

Mathias sighed, and Cantor grinned devilishly back at him. Both of them were interrupted from whatever else they might have said when Luke spoke.

"While I appreciate that the two of you are enjoying yourselves," the human muttered, crossing his arms, "I would be much more appreciative to know what you meant. What did you mean when you said that I had another option?"

Cantor and Mathias glanced to each other for a moment, before Cantor turned back to the human and the bangaa. "Well, tell me, Luke. You would like to be as strong as a bangaa, yes?"

"Yes."

"And you don't wish to learn any new types of techniques in order to match a bangaa in battle; you want to do it solely through martial skill and brawn?"

"Yes."

"Well, then the answer is quite simple." The old nu mou shrugged, leaning back slightly on the barrel. "The only way for you to be as strong as a bangaa is for you to be a bangaa."

Luke and Bertrand both simply looked at the nu mou for a few long moments, neither quite sure how to react. At length, though, Bertrand muttered, "Well, yes that would solve the problem. Unfortunately, he isn't a bangaa, so we still have a problem."

"But he could be," the old nu mou said, tapping a finger on the side of his nose.

Luke glanced over to Bertrand, and slowly raised an eyebrow. "Are all nu mou like this?"

"All nu mou are crazy," the bangaa advised.

"The state of my sanity notwithstanding," the nu mou said, narrowing his eyes, "If you could become a bangaa, would you take that opportunity?"

Luke shrugged at that. "I might. Probably? It would certainly be a good way to shock the rest of my tribe."

Bertrand snickered at the human's answer, but both fell silent as Cantor abruptly stepped forward and grabbed Luke's wrist. The fighter was shocked by how strong the old nu mou's grip was, and he couldn't help but meet that intense gaze.

"Think very carefully, boy, and answer me honestly." The nu mou paused, and then asked again: "If you could become a bangaa, would you choose to do it?"

Luke was too surprised to pull away from that tight grip, though he easily could've overpowered the nu mou. Besides... there was something about the way he was acting. So, instead he simply said, "Yes. If it would make me a better fighter, then I would be a bangaa."

The nu mou's smirk widened. "Good. It's settled then." Before the human or the bangaa could ask what exactly the nu mou meant, Cantor made a quick motion with his fingers. Pale blue fire danced along his hands for a moment, and then it faded, leaving both of the warriors confused and on edge.

After a few long moments, Luke finally managed to gather his thoughts enough to ask, "What the hell was that?"

"You'll see in a couple seconds," Cantor replied, stepping back over to one of the barrels surrounding the campfire. He took a seat on it, and eyed the two warriors with a grin. "It takes a little while to take full effect, but if my guesses are right, then any moment now--"

If he finished speaking, Luke didn't hear it. He was too distracted as Bertrand suddenly hit him from the side, grabbing him and dragging him down to the sand. The bangaa landed on top of him, placing enough pressure on his chest to knock the air from his lungs. Luke gasped, and writhed at the heavier creature on top of him. There was an odd, feverish look in the reptile's eyes, and they almost seemed to be out of focus.

Luke had just managed to get enough air to wheeze out, "What the f--" when the bangaa's face came down, and abruptly his lips were pressing against the human's . Luke froze in shock, his eyes going wide. He didn't even try to jerk away as the bangaa's hands began running down his sides, grabbing roughly at him and tugging at his clothes.

"Bangaa tend to be a bit less resistant to magic." Somewhere above him, Mathias was speaking. "It only makes sense that Bertrand would feel it first..."

Luke managed to make a confused sound as the bangaa's long, serpentine tongue pressed hard against his lips, seeking entrance. He squirmed and thrashed against the larger male, trying to push him away. Bertrand was determined, though, and a good deal stronger than Luke. The bangaa's hands quickly found Luke's wrists, and grabbed them tightly, forcing them out to either side and pressing them against the sand. The human tried to get his knees up and into the lizard's gut, but he had no room to manoeuvre them.

And that's when the heat started.

It was a sudden flash. Momentary, but intense. All Luke knew was that for one second, there was warmth flooding through his body, cutting through the chill of the desert night. He felt his lungs expanding, air flowing freely through his nose and filling him, and his skin started feeling every grain of sand pressing against its surface. In that instant, Luke's body moved on its own, almost spasmodically, and his back arched. His chest pressed flush against Bertrand, only the human's thin shirt separating them, and he parted his lips.

Then, the heat was gone as suddenly as it had appeared, and Bertrand's tongue slipped into his mouth. Luke gasped through his nose, eyes wide as he felt the long, wet appendage invading him, sliding over his teeth and teasing at his own tongue. For a few moments, the human was too shocked to process anything happening around him; he was too distracted by the wet warmth. The forked tip tickled at the roof of his mouth, sliding back. Luke felt his head slowly laying back against the sand under its influence, and his breath was coming sharper.

"Hmm, he actually seems to be pretty resistant to it..." Cantor murmured. Luke barely understood the words. He was too focused on the odd sensations assaulting him. "Who knows, he might have had some aptitude for magic..."

If Cantor kept speaking, Luke didn't hear it. At that moment, another flash of heat ran through him. His back arched again as incredible feelings flooded through him, his skin hyper-sensitive. The clothes covering him felt rough, their threads dragging over his skin. He felt each small bump on the surface of Bertrand's tongue, and each one felt amazing as it rolled over the roof of his mouth.

Luke suddenly became aware that he was returning Bertrand's kiss, his mouth beginning to suckle on that long tongue. His breath was coming in sharp gasps, and that heat that had flashed through him before was returning as an intense, deeper burning. He realised that his arms were no longer struggling against the hands holding them down to escape; instead, he wanted to move them to feel the bangaa, his muscles, his smooth scales...

Bertrand released Luke's wrists, and his rough hands dragged down over the human's sides. Luke pushed himself against those hands, relishing their touch. His own hands, now freed, moved up, and grabbed at the bangaa's chest. Hard, heavily toned muscles met his touch, and Luke could feel the outline of each individual scale against his palm. The muscles in his own arms bulged slightly as he squeezed at the chords covering the bangaa's chest, following them and feeling the thrumming of the heart beneath. There was a steady, sharp rise and fall as the bangaa sucked in deep breaths, trying to cool the intense heat filling his body.

The two of them broke the kiss, and as one they reached down to the hem of Luke's shirt. The human pressed his shoulders against the sand, lifting his back, and the garment slid up, baring much of his stomach and chest. In a smooth movement, the human rocked his shoulders forward and caught his weight on the bared small of his back. The fabric slid up and over his head, and then their lips met again, tongue coiling against tongue as scale dragged over skin.

For a good minute, then, all they did was rub against each other, revelling at the feeling of touching each other's bared upper bodies and sharing each other's breaths. The two were so focused on each other that neither noticed Mathias backing quietly away from them. The young nu mou reached into his robes, and drew out a small rod capped with a blue sapphire. Wordlessly, he pressed the base of the rod into the sand, and then walked in a quick circuit around the area that the four of them were standing in. As he walked, he dragged the rod through the sand, drawing a circle. All the way, a pale blue light pulsed from his hands, sinking down into the rod. As he returned to his initial point and closed the circle, the entire shape gave a soft pulse of pale blue light. The nu mou nodded, and then returned to stand beside his master, watching the human and the bangaa.

Cantor nodded to his apprentice as the younger nu mou walked up, and then he smacked his hands together. Things were moving along nicely... it seemed to be the right time to move on to the next stage. He raised both hands, and blue fire danced along his fingers again.

There was no delay between the casting of the spell and its effects this time. The bangaa and the human, already distracted by the odd lust, didn't notice the spell being cast. It didn't seem odd to them as the mad heat consuming them grew stronger and new ideas flooded into their minds. They didn't even have to speak to know that they were each thinking the same thing. They simply started moving, each one feeling like it was the most natural thing in the world.

They broke their kiss, gasping for breath, and wordlessly their hands moved lower from where they were groping each other's chest and rubbing over each other's backs. Luke's breathing jumped as Bertrand's hands felt along the top of his pants, those fingers touching against the tie that held them up. He closed his eyes, feeling the dimpling of the fabric under those scaled fingers, and the way it tugged the rough material against the bulge forming in the front of his pants. His own fingers were hooking in the back of the billowy pants that the bangaa wore, pulling slightly at the rough leather belt that kept them up.

He slowly followed the curve of the belt around the bangaa's hips with his fingers. When they reached the front, he was somewhat surprised to find that the loose fabric was a bit tighter in the front with a bulge that mirrored his own. Luke opened his eyes again, and was surprised to find that Bertrand was meeting his gaze easily. For a painfully long instant, they were both motionless, staring at each other and waiting for the other to move first.

Luke felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards slightly, and Bertrand replied with a full-snouted grin. Luke's calloused fingers moved directly to the belt's thick buckle at the same time as Bertrand gave a sharp tug on the release chord of the knot in Luke's pants. The fabric grew tighter for one instant around the human's hips before it became very, very loose. The human gasped as the bangaa tugged down on the waistband, sliding the pants roughly down his legs. They dragged along beneath him, caught between his weight and the sand, but soon they were pooled around his ankles, leaving him all but bare on the fire-warmed desert sand. As Bertrand moved his foot to kick at the fabric around the human's ankles, Luke finally managed to tug the buckle loose. He immediately began tugging on the belt, slipping it through the loops in the bangaa's pants.

With a sharp motion, the leather came free, and the human tossed it away without a second thought as he slid the bangaa's pants down over his bare, sweat-slicked scales. Bertrand brought his tail down to help the human with sliding them lower, and soon the pants were bunched around his knees, leaving everything higher bare.

For a moment, Luke simply lay back and drank in the sight. Bertrand was, in a word, magnificent. Thick scales covered him from head to toe, all of them stretched tight over powerful and well-formed muscles. The orange-brown scales glimmered in the light of the campfire and the off-blue fire still dancing along Cantor's hands. Perhaps the oddest thing about that body, to Luke's mind at least, was the perfect smoothness. There was no hair anywhere on his body, even between his legs like he had expected. Yes, apparently the bangaa were indeed reptiles down to the last detail...

The human couldn't hold in a gulp as his gaze travelled past the bangaa's thick pectorals, grazed over the tightly coiled abdominals, and finally slipped between the two equally well-built legs. He felt an odd, unfamiliar trill of excitement run through his body as his eyes settled on the bangaa's member. It was different than anything he had ever seen. Naturally, Luke's experience with such things was quite limited. He had seen many of his tribemates, male and female, in the nude before. Indeed, whenever their regular wanderings brought them near an oasis, it wasn't unusual for all of the members of the tribe to bathe together in the open. However, he'd never been this close or tight with another creature while in the nude, and certainly never one this imposing.

The bangaa's shaft was odd; it was a deep red colour, and appeared to have no foreskin. It emerged from a small, well-concealed slit between his legs, and reached out a good length. For all that it looked large to Luke, somewhere in the back of his mind he noted that it was about the same size as his own in proportion to the bangaa's larger body.

The two held themselves there for a long, drawn out moment, simply drinking in the sight of each other's body. The air around them was cool, by this point, the desert's heat having already left. Luke wasn't certain whether it was this or his own excitement that was causing him to shiver.

Abruptly, from somewhere just off to the side from them, they heard somebody sigh. Both of them glanced up towards Cantor, who had his arms crossed in front of him. "Well, this is boring. If the two of you are just going to stare at each other..."

Luke felt Bertrand tense above him, and the human's forehead creased with sudden confusion as he remembered that the two nu mou were watching. Before either of them could say anything, though, Cantor raised his hands again, gave them a flick, and let pale blue light burst from their tips.

There was an intense rush of heat that flooded Luke's entire body. He didn't realise he was moving until he was up on his knees again, and his chest was mashing against Bertrand's. Their heavily muscled bodies pressed together, and the human's breath jumped as he felt both of their shafts pressed up between them. Their lips met again, and they kissed passionately as they ground their bodies together. The kiss was different from before; there was more gasping, and occasionally they had to break off to catch their breath as they felt the electric tingles from their shafts. Luke's body gave a few soft, instinctive thrusts, his hips tensing each time he felt the spongy head of his shaft rubbing over Bertrand's smooth scales.

The bangaa's hands dragged down along Luke's spine, stroking at the flesh as both males kept up their small motions. Each one gave off heavy groans whenever their shafts actually brushed against each other, the intense heat and hardness of Bertrand's member contrasting with the soft give of Luke's flesh. The hands continued moving downwards, cupping at the well-toned muscles all along the human's back. Luke wasn't certain why, but as those hands moved lower, he felt his excitement building.

When the fingers dipped down beneath the small of his back, and then spread out to either side to squeeze onto the cheeks of his rump, he suddenly understood. His entire body tensed at the contact, and his breath caught deep in his chest. The fingers began kneading the flesh, digging deep into the muscles and working them over. Finally, the human relaxed, letting out his breath and slumping in the bangaa's grip. There was an odd, electric thrill each time that the scaled fingers pulled out to the sides, spreading his cheeks wide and letting cool air find his entrance.

When the two of them moved, it happened without speaking. They both just acted. Bertrand's fingers slipped down around the human's hips and gripped there, lifting him up slightly. Luke knew what the bangaa wanted, and he moved, using his well-honed balance to turn around in his crouch. The bangaa's hands guided his movement, and as they finally found themselves back to chest, Bertrand instead moved to begin groping roughly at the human's chest and stomach muscles.

Luke's breath came heavily as those hands wandered over him, squeezing and rubbing. He was getting an oddly pleasant buzz from the feeling of that warm shaft sticking up and rubbing along the small of his back. He was so lost in the sensations that he didn't even notice Cantor, off to the side, closing his eyes and casting another spell. As the blue fire danced along the old nu mou's form, Luke started feeling something odd. Something warm, wet, and slightly sticky was dribbling from the tip of Bertrand's shaft, bubbling up and smearing across his skin. Wherever it touched, he felt a slightly odd, deeper, answering warmth coming up from his own body.

The human might have been disturbed by this sensation if Bertrand hadn't broken his concentration a moment later by leaning forward and whispering softly into his ear.

"I need..." The bangaa's voice cut out into a pleasured, hissing moan. "Please, let me--"

"Go ahead."

The bangaa's hands moved again, dragging down the human's chest. One of them, as expected, slid down and around Luke's hip, gripping his rump roughly and lifting him up. The other, however, squeezed down around the human's shaft. The feeling of those calloused scales brushing against his sensitive flesh elicited a sharp groan from Luke as he was lifted up. The bangaa's shaft came free from its trapped position against Luke's rump, and the human shuddered as he felt the tip drag teasingly along the top of his taint. It was still leaking precum, and the liquid was still generating the odd heat deep in his body. However, he didn't pay it the slightest heed as he felt the tip come to a rest, pressing against his cheeks.

The two men took a few deep breaths as they held themselves in that position, preparing themselves. Then, Bertrand carefully pulled the rump cheek he was holding out to the side, spreading the two mounds wider. Before Luke could react, the bangaa lowered him slightly, and the tip of that thick shaft slid up and caught in his opening.

The human's eyes widened, and he choked back a gasp as he felt the girth of the member even right at the tip. That thing was huge! There was no way that it would fit inside of him! He felt his pulse rising, his body beginning to panic. Even as this was happening, though, he felt more of the bangaa's pre bubbling up and leaking free into his tight opening. That same heat spread through into him, and with the heat came an odd, surreal level of relaxation. It almost felt like his anal muscles were stretching as the tension left them, making that shaft feel not quite as huge as it had before. Maybe, just maybe, if Bertrand went slow, then...

And then Bertrand lowered him a bit further.

Both of them groaned at the sensation, entirely alien to both of them. The tip slid into that tight passage with little trouble, spreading his muscles wide. As it kept moving, it dribbled more precum, which spread the heat and the relaxation deeper. It pressed in, touching places that Luke had never felt touched before. The deeper it pushed, the more the human's legs shook. Soon, the bangaa's shaft was buried deep inside of him, and with a slight jolt, the bangaa's hips were touching against the human's rump cheeks.

The two didn't move for a good while after that. They were both too caught up in the new, odd sensation of being so close to each other. Luke's inner muscles kept tensing up, and then relaxing again as the ever-present heat pulsed into them. It was a bizarre feeling. It was uncomfortable. There was no doubt about that. He was concretely aware that his anal muscles weren't meant to move in that way, and they were making their protest known. That said, it wasn't painful. He was sure that it would have hurt if it hadn't been for that calming precum, but at current there was just a strange, uncomfortable tightness deep in his guts. All the while, he could feel a small pit of heat deep in his stomach, slowly expanding and becoming harder to ignore. Again, it wasn't painful... just strange.

Luke tensed again as Bertrand's arms grew tight around him. A groan escaped his lips as Bertrand's hand glided up from the base of his shaft, squeezing the sensitive flesh and dragging the foreskin upwards. It dragged back down, pulling the skin tight, and the human whimpered as a bead of pre gathered at his tip. A shiver ran down his spine as Bertrand leaned forward to whisper into his ear.

"Are you ready?"

A deep breath.

"Yes."

He felt the bangaa's snout rub against the side of his face as Bertrand nodded, those smooth scales feeling oddly sensual against his skin. The bangaa's hand gripped onto Luke's rump slightly tighter, and then started lifting him. Luke tried to put some muscle from his own legs into the motion, but found the sensations too overpowering to really lend much aid. The bizarre sensation of oily skin on oily skin, of warmth tugging through him and sliding over his muscles, made it impossible for him to put any effort into his actions. It still didn't hurt, but it was definitely uncomfortable. He closed his eyes, and groaned in confusion at the sensations running through him. Without meaning to, his anal muscles twitched, and tightened down on the shaft. Behind Luke, Bertrand moaned, and another spurt of pre bubbled out and planted itself deep within the human.

The slide back down that shaft was faster than the withdrawal, and as it settled into place deep inside of Luke, the human noticed that it was a bit less uncomfortable than before. Perhaps he'd stretched a bit more, or his muscles had grown more relaxed. Whichever it was, he actually managed to find the muscles in his legs as Bertrand started lifting him again. The human pushed up, taking some of the weight away from the bangaa, and then lowered himself down.

As the movements kept up, and they slowly began building a rhythm, Luke's body relaxed. It was a very gradual thing. The strange feelings kept sending waves of tension through him, making him shake his head and stammer. It took a long time, and a rather slow pace for him to get used to that sensation of flesh sliding through him. Bertrand seemed aware of this, for despite the incredible heat burning through his body and telling him to just go at it, he was moving slowly and hesitantly. He always waited for the human to relax again before he picked up his pace, giving him time to get used the feelings.

The two of them were too focused on their actions to notice the subtle changes all across Luke's body. As more of that pre leaked into the human, ripples seemed to run through him. Everywhere they passed, Luke's musculature shifted slightly, gaining more bulk and tone. It started with his abdominal muscles; the already well-defined ridges grew sharper as what little fat he had there melted away and pressed out with fresh muscle. From there, it spread up to his pectorals and shoulders, beginning to force them out broader and wider.

At the same time, the actual colour of his skin grew darker, almost as though it was gaining pigmentation. The already tanned skin of his abdomen quickly darkened down to an off-brownish shade, and the discolouration began spreading slowly outwards. It followed along behind the shifting of his muscles, working gradually up to his chest. Wherever it passed, the hairs sticking out of Luke's skin would shiver, before dropping out, leaving the surface perfectly smooth.

Of course, Luke and Bertrand were too distracted to notice the spreading changes. Both of their bodies were growing slick with sweat as they moved in unison, Luke's legs and hips and Bertrand's arms working to slowly lift the changing human up and down, sliding that shaft in and out of him. Their muscles flexed with the movements, and their chests heaved, glistening in the firelight. With each spurt of pre from Bertrand's shaft, another burst of changes would come over the human, further bulking out his muscles and spreading the darkening skin. Though Bertrand's shaft was leaking far more pre than normal, he either didn't notice or didn't care. All of his focus was on the pleasure of the tight, hot muscles squeezing down on him.

By this point, Luke had almost caught up to Bertrand in terms of weight, and the gap was narrowing constantly. The bulging of his muscles had spread from his shoulders down his arms, giving bulk and definition that the strongest of humans would have envied. The veins all along his forearms were bulging slightly as blood flowed freely through his body. The combination of the intense sexual energy and the constant changing of his muscles was pushing his circulatory system to its limits.

Bertrand first began noticing the difference in his partner as the changes began working their ways downwards. Luke's calves and thighs began bulging out with new muscle, and at the same time, his shaft gave a hard, sharp twitch. At first, Bertrand just thought that it was the human approaching his peak and preparing to orgasm. As the twitching continued, though, the bangaa realized it was something else. He leaned his long snout over the human's shoulder to look down, and his eyes widened slightly at what he saw. Luke's shaft was pushing up further with each twitch, growing slightly long and slightly wider. Oddly, the foreskin wasn't keeping up with the growth, and as a result, the red head of the shaft was pushing out past the looser outer skin. In fact, as he watched, the foreskin started receding, sliding down over the shaft and fully baring the bright red flesh. The tip of the shaft grew narrower as the foreskin pulled down to around the base, leaving the entire length revealed.

At the same time, the darkening of Luke's flesh was moving down over his legs, sliding over the bulging muscles and pushing out all of the bodily hair along the way. As the muscles and skin changed, he groaned slightly. A few of his bones cracked uncomfortably as they stretched out longer, the human having to crouch more to keep up the same pace of bucking on the bangaa's shaft. Even through that discomfort, Luke remained oblivious to his changes. His head was tilted back, soft groans and gasps escaping his lips as the bangaa's large shaft pounded up inside of him.

The human didn't even notice as his darkened skin began taking on an odd texture. The skin itself grew thinner, but much tougher to the touch. At first, it seemed that his skin was becoming looser; however, as his muscles continued expanding, they filled out the extra space, quickly pulling the smooth, somewhat roughly textured surface tight. Bertrand eyed the skin in curiosity, and slowly slid a finger over the surface of the changing human's abdomen. As soon as he did, his eyes lit up as he recognized the texture, and he grinned, understanding.

Scales.

Beginning to have some understanding of what was happening, Bertrand picked up his pace, giving into the haze of lust and slamming his hips against the human's. The hard thrusts forced the preseed deeper into the human's body, speeding the changes slightly. Luke's wrists and ankles, already toned from years of wielding a sword and balancing on shifting sands, bulged out with new muscle. The heavily tanned scales swept over them just as quickly, before overcoming his hands as well. His feet stretched out somewhat longer as the smooth scales overcame them, his toes tapering down before sharp, thin claws pushed out from their tips. Meanwhile, his fingers all became somewhat thicker, and though they may have grown a bit less nimble, their grip also grew much stronger; much better adapted to holding a weapon steady.

Throughout all of this, Luke remained oblivious. He had long since gotten over the strangeness of what he was doing with the bangaa, and had now given himself over fully to the pleasure of the act. There was something oddly hypnotic about that repetitive motion, constantly unbending and bending his knees, flexing his abdominal muscles, feeling that turgid flesh sliding within him. He hadn't noticed how he was forced to bend his knees slightly more now, nor had he noticed Bertrand's curious touches and gropes. He did notice, though, when the hand administering those touches wandered its way down between his legs. The changing man sucked in a shocked gasp as the fingers curled around his member, sending an intense, erotic thrill through his body. Maybe it was the stimulation happening across his entire body, or just the shock of having it touched by somebody else, but his member had never felt so sensitive before. The pleasure was almost painful, and he couldn't hold back a groan of ecstasy as he gave a twitch, and a long line of pre fired from his tip.

He kept up his rhythmic motions, not paying attention to his expanding body for some time. His muscles grew progressively thicker, and his legs and upper body longer, until soon he probably would have been as tall as Bertrand had the two of them stood up. Through it all, Luke was lost in his haze until abruptly, as he slid back one time, there was an odd, uncomfortable shock from just above his rump. He tensed up, and beneath him, Bertrand also let out a grunt. Apparently the bangaa had felt it as well. The human groaned in annoyance, and then finally opened his eyes and looked down.

Everything stopped as Luke took in his body, his eyes widening noticeably as they took in the impressively upgraded muscles and smooth, tight scales. Sweat glistened on his well-sculpted chest, the flickering light of the crackling fire dancing along him. Bertrand, having felt the change in his partner, was quiet, letting him drink it all in.

The human flexed his heavily toned legs, and then slowly turned his head, glancing over his much broader shoulder and down. He wasn't certain whether he was surprised or not when Bertrand leaned back, giving him a clear view of a stub of flesh pushing out just above his rump. His forehead creased, and then an alien sensation ran through him as the thick nub gave a noticeable twitch. A tail. He was growing a tail.

"Nu mou." Luke stiffened as Bertrand spoke, his low voice raspy with the effort. The changing man looked back, and his eyes met the bangaa's. Bertrand shrugged, and muttered, "I told you that they were all crazy."

Luke nodded dumbly at that, then returned his attention to his own body. He carefully reached a hand up, and then dragged it down over his own chest. He gasped at the feeling of his sharp claws tugging at the scales, and the sensitive scales on his fingers gliding over the smooth surface. His hand travelled downward, until finally it met Bertrand's at the base of his shaft. His eyes widened again at the sight of the slightly pointed, bright red shaft emerging from a tight, puffy slit between his legs, but in the general shock of the whole situation his mind brushed it off. He slid his fingers down past his shaft, and felt at his balls. It seemed that they were external; however, they were now pulled tight against his skin, forming a pair of distinct mounds beneath his member. These too were covered in hairless scales, but they felt somewhat softer and thinner than the scales elsewhere on his body.

"We can stop, you know," the bangaa behind him breathed. Bertrand was leaning forward, resting his head on Luke's shoulder so that the warm breath from his snout was coming out in blasts over the human's lower neck. "If you aren't comfortable with it..."

The bangaa's voice cut out into a shocked gasp as Luke's hand suddenly darted down further, reaching between his own legs and then up, groping at the small bit of Bertrand's shaft that wasn't buried in the human's rump. Bertrand groaned as Luke casually squeezed at the flesh with his much tougher fingers, feeling the new strength running through him, like liquid steel.

"We could always do that," Luke muttered, "or you could finish what you started." He gave one hard squeeze. "What do you think?"

Bertrand didn't answer. Instead, he suddenly lunged forward, tilting the human forward. Luke didn't cry out; he simply threw both his hands out, placing them firmly against the cooling sand. The grains ground against his palms as he attempted to raise his hips up to meet Bertrand. The bangaa didn't wait for the human's help, though; he simply pulled himself partially out, and then thrust in hard, slamming his hips against Luke's. Both of them groaned, and then they were at it again, Bertrand bent over Luke and hammering his shaft in again and again.

The effects were almost immediate. As Luke threw his head back, groaning in pleasure at how rough the bangaa was being, that small nub of a tail began sliding out further. The new position resulted in more pleasure for Bertrand, causing him to produce more of that tainted pre while also allowing him to drive it deeper. As a result, the broad, heavily muscled tail pushed out quickly, wiggling slightly as new nerves, muscles and bones all tested themselves. The dark orange-brown shade of the rest of Luke's body travelled along the new limb, and soon it looked no more out of place on his body than his arms or legs.

While the tail was growing in, the human's legs, arms, and chest all stretched out slightly longer again, taking advantage of the added balance to push Luke a few inches taller. If the human felt himself sliding forward slightly through the sand, he didn't show it. He was somewhat distracted by the sensation of taking that shaft again and again, driving hard shocks of pleasure from his balls up through his changed shaft.

Finally, almost as though they could sense that the climax was approaching, the changes slipped up past Luke's neck. The changing man let out a slight grunt of discomfort as abruptly his head was forced to look upwards as the bones in his skull began changing. It wasn't painful; indeed, none of the transformation had been. However, there was definitely an odd, uncomfortable sensation as the bones in his head reshaped like putty. At first, it was almost like something was pushing heavily on either side of his head, slowly narrowing it and pushing his nose out further in the process. Soon, though, the crushing feeling disappeared, but the stretching remained.

Luke groaned, closing his eyes tightly as his mouth stretched open wider. Soon, it felt as though the rest of his face was overtaking his nose as his nostrils became no more than small holes on the end of his growing snout. The human slowly, hesitantly opened his mouth, and sucked in a huge gasp through the snout that now took up most of his face. He closed his eyes again as new tastes and smells danced over his pallet; not too extreme, but noticeably different from when he'd been human. Luke gave his head a shake, taking in more air as his ears flopped against the sides of his face. In the disorientation of feeling his face stretching into a snout, he hadn't even noticed his ears growing out into long, loose flaps that were now hanging down.

Luke's attention was dragged away from his changes, though, as behind him Bertrand's actions abruptly became sharper and more urgent. The burning pleasure all through his loins hadn't deserted Luke throughout his changes, and now that those were finished, he was fully focused on the shaft drilling up under his tail and the hand sliding over his own member. It was all too much; too many new sensations rippling over new scales and radiating down through new muscle.

Bertrand sucked in one last haggard breath, and then drove himself forward, burying himself to the hilt for one last time. He placed his weight fully on Luke beneath him, trapping the new bangaa's chest between the two of them as he cried out, and sticky, hot pleasure spilled out into Luke's bowels. The feeling of that heat spreading inside of him, pooling against that tight knot of pleasure deep inside of him and almost sealing the magic that had been done, finally pushed Luke over the edge. The former human didn't even have time to catch his breath as his thicker shaft gave a hard jump in Bertrand's hand. Then, his seed was spilling out, splattering against the cooling desert sand in a few sharp blasts.

The climax was short. Considering how long it felt the two of them had been going at it, the actual peak only seemed to last a few instants. Then, suddenly, Luke was lying on the sand, his chest heaving as Bertrand lay collapsed atop him. The two bangaa simply lay there for some time, basking in their afterglow and the warmth of each other's bodies. A million thoughts were rushing through Luke's mind as he lay there, but the natural contentment of post-orgasmic bliss pushed them all far away for now.

Both Luke and Bertrand had quite forgotten about the two nu mou by this point. As such, both of them jumped when Cantor's voice suddenly spoke from somewhere above them. "Well. You two did put on quite a show. Wouldn't you agree, Mathias?"

The two bangaa looked up, and saw that Cantor still sat just a few feet away from them, watching the two nude bangaa with a grin on his face. Behind him, Mathias stood looking more than a bit uncomfortable with the display. He had his hands folded noticeably low in front of his loose robes, and he cleared his voice before he muttered, "Well, er... all I can say is that I'm glad I put up the silence spell."

"My apprentice is somewhat more reserved than I am," Cantor explained to the two incredulous bangaa. "I must say, I quite enjoyed your show."

At those words, both Luke and Bertrand suddenly felt very exposed. They hopped up to their feet, Luke swaying slightly as he got used to balancing with a tail. Bertrand rushed to tug his discarded clothes on. Luke began reaching for his old clothes, but he quickly saw that they would be nowhere near large enough for his new frame. So, instead, he stood up firmly, and carefully held his hands in front of himself in much the same way as Mathias was. If he couldn't put his clothes on, at the very least he could keep the perverted old nu mou from seeing everything.

"Let me try to put this together," Luke muttered. He paused for a moment after that, surprised to find that his voice was a bit lower, but also slightly breathier than it had been before. Probably a side effect of speaking with such a long snout. "You just... induced the two of us to... uh..."

"To have sex?"

"Yes. And then you used your magic and Bertrand's, er... to change me into..."

"Into a bangaa, yes," Cantor nodded, that predatory grin still on his face. "And a damn fine one, if I say so myself."

"I don't think that's his first concern right now." Bertrand stepped up next to Luke, brushing sand from his clothes. He had managed to get his things back on, if somewhat clumsily. As Luke glanced over to the bangaa, he was stunned to find that he had to look down slightly; Bertrand was shorter than him now. In fact, Bertrand looked smaller than him in general now; even his muscles seemed small in comparison to Luke's. While Luke pondered over this, Bertrand went on. "For starters, is this permanent?"

"Quite," Cantor bobbed his head. "I can't honestly say I've had a chance to test any counterspells yet, but it's unlikely to wear off. Mathias, at least, changed over a year ago now, and he shows no signs of going back to being human."

The two bangaa turned their gaze to the mage's apprentice, and found that Mathias was blushing quite heavily. The nu mou glanced down, and muttered, "Well, yes... I was the first one that he tested the spell on."

"And you're the second!" Cantor said happily, giving his hands a clap. "I must say, I'm happy with the spell's success rate thus far."

This declaration was met with dumb silence. Bertrand glanced over to Luke in concern, watching the larger bangaa and seeing how he would react. For his own part, Luke slowly looked down at himself again, staring at the bared scales covering his body. His heavily muscled tail gave a soft flick, and he muttered, "Well... this is..." He paused again, and then went on. "I'm not sure how well my tribespeople will take this."

"You fear they'll cast you out?" Bertrand reasoned.

"I told you earlier tonight: most of them don't even believe that bangaa exist. I can't imagine that they'll take well to hearing that I've become one and intend to just live with them, now."

There was silence again after Luke's words. Then...

"You know, you don't have to go back to your people." Cantor offered casually, slowly stretching. Luke, Bertrand, and Mathias all looked to him, and he went on. "Mathias and I are with the caravan for now... but we could always do with a bodyguard when we arrive in Baguba. I can't promise much pay, but meals and lodging are included, and I can guarantee that you'll get to see as much of the world as you could possibly want."

Luke hesitated, thinking it over. He glanced to Mathias, and was surprised to find the younger nu mou's eyes wandering over his nude body. When the apprentice saw that his looks had been discovered, he quickly glanced away, and gulped noticeably.

The bangaa turned his attention back to Cantor. "Do you promise to never test out new magical spells on me again?"

The nu mou's grin widened. "I promise."

"Then you have yourself a bodyguard."

The two of them reached out, and they shook hands. As soon as they had finished, Cantor yawned, then turned away. "Well, we all ought to get to bed. It's going to be an early morning with many, many difficult explanations. Bertrand, do see if you can find some new clothes for our friend, would you? I'll reimburse the caravan for whatever they're worth. Mathias, whenever you're finished gawking, you can join me in the wagon."

The apprentice jumped at that, and then turned and followed his master, quickly leaving the ring of the fire's light. This left Luke and Bertrand alone by the campfire. The two of them stood in silence for a few moments after the nu mou left; both were still quite winded from their mating, and they had to regain their breath.

After some time, Bertrand led Luke towards one of the wagons ringing the camp. As they left the campfire's light, the air grew chilly. Luke shivered, and rubbed at his scales to try and warm them up. Bertrand went to the back of the wagon, and began digging through crates, searching for clothes.

"If it makes you feel better," the bangaa offered after a short time, "you do make quite a handsome bangaa."

"Thank you," Luke replied. They lapsed into silence again as Bertrand kept searching through the wagon. Finally, the bangaa sighed in annyance and pulled out a thick, woollen blanket. He held it up to check how large it was, and then passed it to the other bangaa.

"That ought to do for tonight. We'll find something proper for you in the morning." Bertrand hesitated for a moment, then added, "If you'd like, you could share my tent for the night."

"I would like that." Bertrand turned and began leading the way. He hadn't gone more than a step, though, before Luke's voice pulled him up short. "Don't think that all this kindness means you're getting out of a rematch at some point." Bertrand glanced over his shoulder, and saw Luke smirking and flexing his new abdominal muscles. "I want another try at you now that we're truly on a level playing field."

There was a chuckle. "Fine. I'd love to pin you for a third time... and maybe get a whack at that tail again, too."

"Good luck with that."

The two chuckled, and then headed for Bertrand's tent.