The Forest: Forest Shaman

Story by Raul on SoFurry

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So yeah, this is a thing. I'm probably going to write more with these two. Also yes, I am a huge cocktease, you're right! >:3


Forest Shaman

Imani was up to her knees in the small clear pond in the dense forest. She was fishing around for a certain type of waterweed that only grew under very specific conditions. She was a Shaman living a somewhat secluded life in the forest, though the Minotaur didn't really mind all that much. She had enough contact with a small settlement of other Minotaurs on the edge of the forest to prevent her from going mad, but she still enjoyed her seclusion. She pulled up another clump of waterweed and dropped it into her hip pouch. Deciding that would be enough, she splashed out of the pond; brushing algae off her short, smooth fur.

Imani stood at approximately nine feet in height, with large breasts (something she lamented) and curvaceous hips. She also had biceps the size of coconuts, and thighs that could crack rocks. Curiously she was rather pudgy around the midsection, despite her obvious level of fitness. Her fur was mostly brown, but her stomach and inner thighs were a creamy white. She had soft bushy fur on her shins and forearms that was the same creamy colour as her underside. She also had an enormous mane of shaggy brown fur that erupted from her head and ran all the way down to the small of her back. She had a few braids and beads in it to keep most of it out of her face, but the rest of it just flowed free.

Her eyes were sea green and she had two horns that curved forwards over her forehead. One of the horns was broken in half. The other half was worn around Imani's neck as a reminder of how dangerous living in the forest could be. She wore a patchwork leather skirt, held up with a thick belt adorned with a hefty iron buckle. She didn't wear a top, except for when she was working at her small forge.

Cleaning mud out of her hooves, she began making her way back through the forest to her home. It was a small cottage she had grown from a tree. Only one room, but it was enough for her needs. The pond wasn't particularly near by, but it was a nice day so Imani was content to enjoy the walk back. About half way home, she became aware of something moving clumsily through the woods. No animal would make that much noise, so it was probably a really lousy hunter, or some idiot who wandered too far from one of the (few and far-between) caravan tracks.

Changing her course to intercept, Imani emerged in a patch of forest where the trees were thin. From the opposite side of this semi-clearing came a rather dazed looking Naga. His clothing was ragged and filthy, his hair was a mess and he appeared to have not noticed the eight feet of muscly Minotaur watching him. Imani wondered if he would notice her at all, but he seemed to realise he wasn't alone. He stopped and looked towards her. Imani could instantly tell he wasn't just a Naga.

For a start, he had legs. A fact that immediately set him apart from other Naga. His facial features were elegant and fairly fine. His eyes, though clouded, were purple in colour, and surprisingly round. His scales were emerald green, and he had a long flexible tail that trailed listlessly behind him. He also had tattoos running from the end of his snout and over the top of his smooth head. Imani could see the tattoo continued over the backs of his hands and down to the tip of his tail. He blinked at her slowly. Then something seemed to register. He clumsily reached down to his belt and drew a knife.

"T...this... I'm... give... me... your... food..." he mumbled, barely able to talk, let alone lift the knife. Imani sighed. She was clearly going to have to help the man. He was obviously starving, but she had to be certain of something.

"Put the knife down. I'll give you food if you promise me you aren't a bandit."

"Bandit? W-where... I... I'll... hold... hold them off..." He stumbled around, waving his knife. He was clearly delirious. As he turned Imani saw a broken arrow sticking out of his shoulder. There was dry blood staining his jacket, and the wound looked a few days old.

While the man spun around, the knife slipped out of his fingers. He stumbled and fell. Imani ran over to him, kneeling by his side. Peeling back his jacket she saw a large bandage around his waist. It was old and dirty. She drew a small knife from her belt and cut away the rags. The wound was badly infected and turning green around the edges. She noticed a green paste smeared on the slightly less blood-stained portion of the bandage. She sniffed it cautiously. A tincture made from herbs for clotting blood and for healing the skin. Either this man knew what he was doing or he had been carrying something ready made. She touched his forehead. He was burning with fever. Sheathing her knife, Imani scooped him off the ground with little effort and broke into a run back to her home.

After a ten minute sprint, Imani emerged in the clearing where her house was located. It sat off center to the clearing (Imani liked having a 'garden'). It was large and round, with big windows to let in plenty of light. Grown out of a sturdy oak tree, the methods for construction were complex, physically, and mentally draining (though the results were worth it). The tree was grown in a certain way, and very rapidly over the course of a few days. The result was a fairly short, but massively thick trunk, big enough to comfortably live in once hollowed out (without killing the tree of course). Imani had grown her bed and various cupboards and shelves out of the tree too. She had even grown a fireplace, something she was very proud of. She had lined it with clay and rocks to prevent the wood from scorching, but otherwise it was all timber. Her bed was located next to the fireplace for warmth when the winter snows came.

Bursting through the door, she placed the man on her table and began cutting away his clothes with her belt knife. The fact they were still on his body was surprising, considering how worn they were. When he was naked, she could see the kind of shape he was in. His gaunt body was covered in scratches and bruises. Most of them looked recent, probably from staggering through the forest. She saw that his scales were dry and many of them were cracked and dull. The tattoo that ran over his head, hands and tail covered his entire back and both his legs. The pattern of the tattoo was difficult to determine. It was made up of angular lines of varying thickness, set out in an arrangement that made Imani go cross eyed from its astounding complexity. Shaking her head, Imani began to clean his wounds, causing him to gasp and twitch in pain. His teeth were pointy and sharp, Imani made a mental note to be careful with fingers around those pearly whites.

Imani knew that the infected and dead flesh would have to be removed before any healing could be done. The best way of doing that was by using maggots. They cleaned infected wounds far better than any magic. Though that process took several days, and this man didn't have several days. Magic could certainly help in this situation. She ran out into the clearing and over to a wooden cover on the ground. Heaving it up she revealed a rotting deer carcass. It was writhing with maggots and flies. Quickly grabbing a handful of the squirming larvae, she dumped them into a clay pot kept by the pit. Dropping the lid and running back to her house, she swiftly tipped the maggots onto the surprisingly large wound in his side. The maggots immediately began consuming the dead flesh. Raising a hand, a dim glow appeared around Imani's fingers. The maggots began moving at an accelerated pace. Consuming the dead meat much faster than they normally would.

While the maggots worked, she rolled him onto his side so she could look at the arrow wound. The shaft had broken, and he was too fragile to try and push it out. Grabbing a sharp bone knife, Imani carefully made an incision on either side of the arrow. Gripping what remained of the shaft in strong fingers, she pulled. With a sickening squelch and a spray of black blood, the arrow came free. The head wasn't barbed, but it was well made, unlikely to be from any bandit. Tossing the arrowhead into the fire, she placed more maggots in this wound.

After checking on the maggots in the wound on his side, she went over to a honeycomb of cubbyholes in the wall. They were stuffed full of dried herbs and other plants, as well as bandages. Imani made her own bandages out of a particular type of vine that grew in the forest. When dried, the pale brown flesh of the vine was highly absorbent and fibrous, allowing it to spread out and flex, while remaining strong. Grabbing several long strands of the vine, she headed over to a smaller table that was grown out of the wall. She grabbed herbs from where they were drying above the fire and began grinding them up with her very large mortar and pestle.

Brushing her hands on her skirt, Imani headed out of the house again, to a small door in the side of the tree. Opening it revealing a small pantry of sorts. Pulling out a wineskin, she closed the door and hurried back inside, uncorking the skin as she did so. She took a big swig, and then poured a generous measure into the mortar. Honey Brandywine was excellent at keeping any more infection at bay once the maggots were finished, and Imani used it quite regularly for this kind of thing. Once she had finished making the paste, she began preparing the bandages with it, smearing it thickly over the fibres. Once she was done, she carried them over to the table.

The maggots had done an excellent job of cleaning the wounds. Imani closed her eyes and made a few signs in the air with her fingers. The maggots disintegrated into nothingness. She worked quickly now, binding the wounds and sealing the bandages with glue made from pine resin. Once the cleaned wounds had been patched, she carefully lifted him off the table and over to her bed. She carefully placed him down and pulled the blanket around him. Feeling his forehead she noticed his fever was already beginning to go down. She sighed in relief. Now she had to do something about the hunger and thirst.

She looked down at her voluptuous breasts and sighed. She knew it was the only thing she had he could handle right now, and it took care of both hunger and thirst at the same time. She looked down at him. He was barely conscious. She began to slowly squeeze and massage her breasts, a hazy, pale blue glow appearing from her hands. Wisps of what looked like fine mist rose into the air. Imani gasped and squeezed her legs together. The Goddess had a very peculiar sense of humour, making 'personal' magic this arousing.

She could feel her breasts becoming heavy and full. She'd had to do this several times before, but only ever with young animals she found in the forest. She had to be careful too, as stimulating herself too much in this way could lead to a permanent effect. Imani didn't exactly want to have to milk herself every day, even if the thought of doing so made her hot under the skirt. The glow faded and she knelt by the bed, lifting one of her breasts and pressing the nipple against his lips. She winced as his sharp teeth closed around her teat. He began to suckle and Imani sighed. It was annoying how good this felt. One of her hands wondered down to press between her legs. She started to blush, biting her bottom lip.

She stopped squirming when the snake started coughing. Pulling her chest away from him, she wiped some milk away from his mouth and flopped back in her chair. The sun was setting and she felt somewhat drained. Healing always used a lot of energy, and she hadn't prepared before. Emergency situations like this made her feel alive though. She grinned to herself and smoothed back her mane.

"Job well done, Imani." She said aloud. She looked back at the man. He already looked far better than he had. He was actually kind of pretty, and seemed to be younger than Imani had initially assumed. Reaching forwards she ran a finger over the scales on his neck. He shivered and sighed.

His breathing had calmed down considerably. When she had first found him he had been taking ragged gasps of air, but now it was much smoother and more natural. Hauling herself out of the chair she gathered up the ragged pile of clothes. They stank and were no use to anyone. She went through the pile and only his belt provided anything worth saving. It was heavy with pouches, some of which had been specially designed to hold small bottles and jars. Most of them were filled with strange powders and liquids that Imani could not identify by sight. She placed them carefully on the table, knowing better to tamper with these things. The other pouches contained scraps of parchment, odd little tools and herbs and plants that Imani could identify. She stowed the bottles and jars away in an empty cubbyhole. Perhaps when he was lucid he would be able to tell her exactly what he had been carrying. Of course that could wait. Imani doubted he would be waking up any time soon.

***

Everything felt stiff. Everything ached. Which meant there was very little chance of being dead. There was also warmth. Warmth was technically a good sign. It didn't hurt so there was no chance of being on fire. Which was nice. Movement. Now that was a tricky one. Aching muscles complained and sent sharp stabs of pain through everything.

"Don't try to move too quickly!" said a voice. It was a nice voice. Female too. Gentle hands touched his body, helping him to stretch out. He tried opening his eyes, but his vision was still blurry. It was like he was trying to see through dishwater.

"Mmnng..."

"Or talk. You've been asleep for two days."

"Hnn..."

Vision beginning to clear, he could make out the features of his apparent saviour. She looked like a Shaman, if the beads and necklaces were anything to go by. Oh, and there were the large breasts too. His eyes wondered up to her face. A Minotaur. Thank the gods!

"Whrr..."

"Slowly now. You are still very weak."

"Wheeerr..."

"My home. I found you wondering the forest. Try not to speak too much."

"Hnnnmm..."

"Here, let me help you up. Your muscles are probably quite cramped by now."

A nod, that was the accept sign for most things positive. Muscles whined and a wince accompanied as the action was performed.

The big Minotaur carefully helped him to sit up. She placed a hand on the small of his back and gently pushed forwards, helping him to arch his back and stretch properly. It hurt, but felt amazing at the same time. She then helped him stretch his arms and legs.

"Here." The Minotaur offered a cup, tilting his head back. It was warm water mixed with honey. It soothed his throat somewhat.

"Try talking now."

"Nnnnd..."

"Slowly, don't rush."

"Nnneeed..."

"Yes?"

"Nneed... to..."

The Minotaur picked him up and trotted outside, placing him in the bushes behind the house. Clearly she had done this kind of thing before. She supported him while he relieved himself. This made him blush.

"Don't worry. I've seen worse." She reassured him. "This tells me there's no severe internal damage."

"Nnnf..."

She carried him back into the house and laid him back down in the bed. Everything was still slightly blurry. Colours were highly saturated and almost painful to look at.

"You're going to need at least a month here before your fit enough to leave." She said, pulling the blanket around him.

"Thhnk you."

"Thank me later when you can't be blown down by a stiff breeze."

"Hhhnn...Oswnn..."

He felt large, but gentle hands on his. They were very comforting.

"Slowly." She said.

"Mm...Oswyn."

"I'm Imani."

"Nnf..."

Imani watched as Oswyn fell asleep. Proper sleep this time, not the feverish, twitching sleep that had plagued him for the last two days. It was nice to finally put a name to his face.

"Oswyn, eh?" she mused.

It was an old name. She wasn't entirely sure of it's meaning but that could wait until he could actually hold a conversation. She looked out of the door of her home. It was late in the autumn. Leaves were turning brown, and the warm autumn sun was setting earlier and earlier. A month would bring the first snows. He would have to stay with her for the winter, otherwise he would just get sick and eventually die of some hideous wasting disease.

"At least I'll have some company." She said aloud.

Over the next few days, Oswyn was able to stay awake for longer periods of time, until a full week had passed since Imani had discovered him in the forest. He woke one morning to see Imani cooking breakfast over the fire.

"Morning sleepyhead." She said with a smile.

"G'morniNNG!"

"Don't try and sit up! You are not strong enough yet." Imani tutted, reaching over and carefully helping him to sit up in the bed, checking on his bandage to make sure his wound hadn't reopened.

"You're going to have quite a scar, but otherwise I think you'll be fine. We just have to make sure you don't get sick while your body is healing." She said.

"Nnnkay..."

"Don't try to talk too much. No sense wearing yourself out with idle words."

"Okay... haaah..." Oswyn panted, gingerly touching his bandage.

"No touching!" Imani scolded, causing Oswyn to snatch his hand away, making him wince as his shoulder reminded him about the arrow wound.

"Here. Eat something solid. It'll do you good." Imani said, handing him a wooden plate. The food was not what you might have suspected. No fancy leafy greens or roots and bugs. It was a large, freshly baked bread roll covered in honey, with a pile of grilled vegetables and three hard-boiled eggs.

"Uhmm..."

"Eat all of it."

"O-okay."

It didn't take long for Oswyn to eat the huge meal. Everything about it was delicious; considering he couldn't clearly remember the last time he had eaten. He was already feeling stronger and more inclined to talk.

"That... wasn't at all what I was expecting." He said.

"What? You think I got this big eating moss and bugs?" Imani replied with a small smile.

"Oh no! No no! It's just... when you think 'Shaman'..."

"Yes?"

"Well... it's... you know..." Oswyn fidgeted uncomfortably under Imani's gaze. Then her burst of laughter shook the house.

"I know what people think of Shamans and us 'country bumpkins'. I have been to cities before you know."

"O-oh... sorry."

"Don't apologise. I wouldn't want to be associated with those barbarians anyway."

Oswyn looked up at her, surprise evident on his face.

"They consider themselves civilized." She explained "Yet most of them live in stinking poverty, convinced that is their place in the world. They are lorded over by a few people who are ruled by avarice and the desire for power. They look on us 'wild folk' as uneducated and uncivilized. But I wonder if that is really the case?"

Oswyn found himself leaning back from Imani. Her eyes seemed to be glowing faintly.

"I... I've had plenty of experience in big cities and towns... I know what you mean." He said, trying to divert her attention "Nobody who lives there will give you a second glance. Its why I've always liked the wilds."

"Oh yes! Now that you are a little more lucid, what were you doing out in the forest?"

"Ah... well... I used to travel with the caravans. I'm an alchemist you see."

Imani raised an eyebrow. Alchemists were an extremely rare breed of mystic, and while most Shamans worked with nature and understood the flow and ebb of the magic that bound the world together, Alchemists had an intrinsic understanding of how nature actually worked. Imani had met plenty of Shamans like her; but she had never met an Alchemist.

"I was hired to... well keep the caravan safe really. We used to travel the Long Way, so it made sense."

"That is a dangerous road. Lucky for you it misses the Forest's heart."

"Yeah... I heard... I've heard stories about it. But this was supposed to be my last trip you see."

"Why is that?"

"I used to be able to disguise myself. Make myself look human. But something about this forest... I began losing that ability. It was harder and harder to keep the glamour up. I knew I would have to leave the caravan..."

"You're a Naga, aren't you?" Imani asked. Oswyn nodded.

"Well... sort of." He added. "I'm a little different."

"How so?"

"My Mother is a Naga, but my father... he's a dragon."

Imani blinked a few times.

"Wait... actually a dragon?" She asked, somewhat incredulously.

"Yes. Which is why I'm glad you found me. My ability to disguise myself... I lost control sooner than I thought I would."

"I think I can probably guess what happened next." Imani said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "The people you were travelling with realised what you were, didn't they?"

"Hard for them not to." Oswyn replied softly.

"You escaped, but got injured in the process."

Oswyn nodded.

"They attacked me." He whispered, clenching his fists.

Imani leaned forwards and hugged Oswyn. He leaned into her shoulder, trying to hold back tears.

"I thought they were my friends..." He whimpered. Imani stroked his scales and nuzzled the top of his head.

"Hey... I think I might have something that will make you feel better." She said, getting up and going over to a cubbyhole. She pulled out a small leather bundle. Going back over to Oswyn, she handed it to him. Wiping tears from his eyes, he looked at her curiously and began to unwrap the parcel. Inside was the green pendant. Imani had repaired the necklace with plaited leather strips, creating a sturdy length of thonging. Oswyn held the pendant in his hands, tears welling up in his eyes.

"I was sure I had lost this..." he said, looking up at her.

"It was in one of your pouches. I thought it might be important, so I repaired it for you." She explained.

Oswyn slipped the pendant over his head and gripped the stone with a sigh.

"What is it? I've never seen stone like that before."

"It is a type of stone called Malachite. It is rare... this was a gift from my mother. It is called a birthstone. They sometimes form in eggs if the-"

"Wait wait wait..." Imani interrupted "You hatched? From an egg?"

"Oh... uh... yes..."

"That is... that's... wow."

"I guess? The stone is... well... I was born from two very powerful beings. I know something like that doesn't happen very often. Because of that, I'm supposed to have a truly ridiculous amount of raw magical ability... or at least that's what my mother says. The stone... well... I don't know if it stores the magic, or does something else with it, but it... it stops the magic from killing me."

"Why would it kill you?"

"It's raw magic. The kind that holds the world together. My body is not... mature enough? Mother told me once. I can't contain that kind of mystical force until I'm older. I don't know why I have to be 'more mature though'."

"How old are you anyway?" Imani asked, realising she didn't actually know.

"Hmm... eighty... seven? I want to say eighty seven years."

"What?! You don't look a day over twenty!" Imani said. She didn't usually act this incredulous. Though today was apparently the exception. He was fifty-five years her senior.

Imani had wanted to talk more but Oswyn had suddenly begun to feel dizzy, so Imani had laid him back down. He was still very weak, and even this relatively small amount conversation had obviously taken its toll. Imani found herself wondering when he would next awaken. She hadn't had a proper conversation in months and she was finding she actually missed it. She was also itching to go for a walk, but she couldn't leave a patient alone. He could barely walk as it was. Then again, the fact he could walk at all was certainly impressive. Imani had heard all the legends and stories about so called Dragon-Kin, half human and half dragon. But she had never heard of half Naga half Dragons. She supposed it was just as likely as a human and a dragon mating.

Imani stepped out of the house and in to the clearing. The little titbits Oswyn told her just made her want to know more. Her curiosity had been piqued. Sitting down in the center of the clearing, she crossed her legs and closed her eyes. Her mind was swirling with so many questions she had to calm herself down. A little meditation would surely help. After a few minutes she frowned. Normally emptying her mind was easy, but these questions would not go away. How could he be so old and look so young? Was he immortal? How experienced was he? Surely if he really was nearly ninety he would be very knowledgeable and powerful. So far he hadn't shown any experience or wisdom. Maybe he was hiding it? Maybe he was simply letting her get on with it.

"So many damnable questions!" She said aloud, pulling her hair in frustration. She looked back at her house and through the open door. She could see him sleeping. It was a heavy sleep, the kind of sleep that only comes when your body is busy fixing itself. Imani sighed again. She was an experienced Shaman herself. She had left her teacher over ten years ago and had been living here since. She had tended to everything from lost humans to bears injured by hunter's traps. She'd even patched up a Dryad or two. Oswyn was still healing and she was acting like an impatient child.

"Have a little discipline for goodness sake!" she scolded herself.

Over the next few days he recovered more of his strength. Eventually he was able to stay awake for most of the day without passing out. The first thing he had actually requested of Imani was to have a bath. Not a hot bath either. He said he felt sticky and disgusting and really needed some fresh air. She had made a leather kilt and waistcoat for him to wear, and had helped him out of the house. His body was still stiff, and he couldn't walk fast, but he could still move mostly unaided. As they walked through the autumnal forest, Imani noted that Oswyn didn't look very draconic. He was slender and graceful, despite the healing wounds. He appeared to be thoroughly enjoying the crisp air too, looking around the forest with great apparent interest. They arrived at a small lake fed by a fast moving stream. The waters of the lake were crystal clear, but were not too cold yet.

Imani helped Oswyn undress; slipping his new waistcoat off his shoulders (he had thanked her profusely for the clothes) and he managed to remove his kilt. Imani carefully cut his bandages off with her belt knife. Both his wounds had scabbed over and were healing nicely. Imani frowned. They were healing much faster than was normal. Shaking her head she stood up and helped Oswyn into the cool water.

"That feels so nice!" He exclaimed, letting the clear water take the weight of his body.

Imani scratched her mane. She could probably do with a bit of a wash too. She unbuckled her belt and slid her long skirt off, kicking it away from her hooves.

"Hey Imani!" Oswyn called, turning around to face the shore "You should come in ttnnnngk!"

Imani stood on the bank, hands on her hips, watching Oswyn trying to regain his footing.

"What?" She asked when he had sorted himself out. She wasn't sure, but it looked as if he were blushing.

"I uh... well I mean... uh... erm..." he spluttered

"Never seen a girl with a cock before?" Imani asked.

"Not as such... no..." Oswyn replied, still blushing furiously. He seemed to be squirming in the water. Imani grinned and walked into the lake. She let out a sigh as the cool water covered her fur.

"It was an accident." She said, paddling over to Oswyn.

"How... exactly..." Oswyn asked, still squirming.

"I was healing a forest pony. It wasn't a bad injury so I was using magic. He refused to stay still and kicked my hand. Something happened, and before I knew it we had apparently swapped our genitals. He ran off before I could correct the change."

"That sounds... uhm... it sounds..."

"Why are you squirming?"

"I just... it's just... you know..."

"Can't say that I do. Now come here and let me help you wash."

"No no! No need to-"

Oswyn was cut off when Imani grabbed him and pulled him over to the bank. She reached out and grabbed her belt, pulling it towards her. Oswyn wiggled and squirmed in her grasp.

"Oh hold still will you? You'll open your wound again and bleed everywhere." She snapped. Oswyn stopped wriggling but Imani could practically feel the heat of embarrassment from his cheeks. Imani opened a pouch on her belt and pulled out a small cloth bag filled with strange round objects. She dipped the bag in the water and squeezed it. Frothy bubbles dripped from the bag and she began soaping up Oswyn's scales.

"W-whats in the bag?" he asked

"Soapnuts. Strange little things. They help clean better than anything I've ever come across." Imani replied, spreading the lather over his shoulders and back. She was careful around his injuries, but he still winced when she brushed against the arrow wound in his shoulder.

"There was silence while Imani carefully washed Oswyn's back. Then...

"So uh..."

"Why does it look sort of like a human's?"

"How did you...?"

"Lucky guess. I tried to get rid of it, but all I managed to do was make it look slightly less... horsey."

"Oh."

The silence descended again. Oswyn opened his mouth but then closed it again.

Imani continued to wash him, working over his chest and down over his abdomen. Oswyn was so preoccupied with his thoughts he didn't notice where her hands were. When he did notice, he nearly leapt out of the water, but Imani's arms over his shoulder's prevented him from going anywhere.

"You like the sight of big women with horse cocks, do you?" Imani said coyly. Then she saw his face. He'd turned almost the same colour as his eyes. His head was hunched and he was fidgeting furiously.

"Goddess... you actually do don't you?"

"Sorry! I'm so sorry! I just... I can't... I mean... it's been... oh... oh damn it!"

Oswyn was practically in tears. Imani for once wasn't entirely sure what to do. So she dunked his head under the water. Oswyn resurfaced spluttering.

"What was that foooooow!" He clutched his side. Imani gently picked him up and carried him out of the lake. The scab on his side had come off in the water, revealing tender and slightly bloody flesh underneath.

"You're healing a lot faster than I expected." Imani said, looking at his wound. Oswyn was squirming again. He kept looking everywhere but towards at her.

"I appreciate I'm still naked, and squatting down next to you probably doesn't help your embarrassment, but if you keep squirming, you will tear this new skin wide open, and the last two weeks of healing will be for nothing." She said firmly. Oswyn looked up at her and then down at the ground.

"Sorry..." he mumbled.

"Hey... hey look at me." Imani said, cupping his chin in a large hand and tilting his head up so he could meet her gaze. "I think the fact that you like... me, is very flattering. Most people don't really see me as a woman anymore." She said soothingly. Oswyn bit his bottom lip.

"I... sorry for acting so... weird. I'm not... I'm not good at this kind of thing. I prefer to be led, rather than lead, if you know what I mean?" He said, reaching up and holding her hand.

"I think so." She said with a smile and a nod.

"Wait... what do you mean 'people'?"

"I'm not a complete hermit you know. Now then. The bleeding isn't bad. It'll stop in a bit but try not to move around too much. I need to clean myself too." Imani continued, letting go of his chin. She straightened up and strode back into the water, grabbing the pouch of soapnuts as she went. Oswyn watched her go. She was swishing her tail side to side as she went, giving him a rather good look at her very fine buttocks. Was she... teasing him?

Oswyn sat and watched her as she cleaned herself. He didn't really have much else to do while he air-dried. He looked up at the sky and sighed. His body still hurt, and he was still fatigued. It would certainly take a while for him to fully heal. He looked back at Imani.

"Gods she's beautiful..." he thought. He noticed her looking at him, and he blushed furiously. She laughed and continued washing her mane. She was eventually done, and stepped out of the lake. Water poured off her and she shook her head violently sending a spray of water everywhere. She grabbed her skirt and belt, slipping them back on. Oswyn had already dressed himself and was having difficulty getting to his feet. Imani carefully helped him to stand, checking on his wounds again.

"Hmm... I'll re-bandage your injuries when we get back." She said, "You aren't out of the woods yet... figuratively speaking of course. There's still a chance of infection. I'll not be satisfied until that wound is completely healed."

"Better than being dead I suppose." Oswyn replied, gingerly touching the wound in his side.

"What have I said about touching?" Imani cautioned, swatting his hand away.

"Alright! Sorry, I just..."

Imani rolled her eyes and picked him up and began heading back to the house.

"H-hey! I can walk you know!" He protested.

"If you blush any more today, you'll get a nose bleed." Imani said with a smile. "Besides, you are small and easy to carry."

"I'm not small! I'm normal!"

"By whose standard?"

"Uh..."

"Exactly."

That evening, Oswyn sat in Imani's chair wrapped in a blanket while Imani cleaned the bed. It was heavily padded with layers of dry shag moss and grass, with animal skins over the top. It was surprisingly comfortable to sleep on. The enormous bear skin Imani used as a blanket was folded on the table. Oswyn looked at it, wondering if she had killed the bear herself. Imani had been sleeping on a padded mat while he had been recovering in her bed. He felt kind of bad about it.

"Uhm... I don't mind sleeping on the floor." He said.

"What? Don't be ridiculous. You were severely injured. If you sleep on the floor you'll just get sick."

"Oh... okay..."

"What kind of alchemist are you if you don't know that?"

"Eh?"

"I thought you alchemists were just highly specialised Shamans?"

"Not quite... well..." Oswyn looked around, spotting a knife on the table. He grabbed it and held it up.

"This knife. How did you make it?" He asked

"I gathered the ore from the lake and had a blacksmith use his smelter to get the metal out. Then I made it with my forge."

"Is that it?"

"What else is there?"

"This knife is..." Oswyn closed his eyes. "Two percent carbo, and ninety eight percent Ferrum."

"I don't know what that means." Imani said, picking up the bearskin and unfolding it, spreading it over the large bed.

"It means this..."

The knife suddenly exploded outwards in a cloud, orbiting slowly around Oswyn's hand. The cloud slowly coalesced into two separate spheres. One was considerably smaller than the other.

"This black ball here is the carbo, the coal you mixed in with the molten metal. This silver ball here is the pure ferrum, or iron. Combined together, they form steel." Oswyn explained, raising his other hand and compressing the two spheres together. He opened his hands and the knife was resting on his palm. He looked up at Imani, and couldn't help but giggle. She was staring wide eyed and open mouthed at him.

"Is... is that... alchemy?" She asked slowly.

"Basic alchemy, yes."

"That is highly impressive."

"Thank you! I'm glad you thin... I'm glad yoooouoh dear..."

"What? What's wrong?"

"Slight nausea and dizziness..."

Oswyn leaned forwards in the chair and closed his eyes.

"Ohhh gods..."

"You must still be far to weak to be practicing even the most basic alchemy." Imani said, coming over to him and gently rubbing his back.

"I... I guess so..."

That night, after they had eaten, Oswyn was sat, gazing out the window.

"Hey... Imani?" He asked.

"Yes?" She replied, not looking up from her work at the table. She was cutting up roots for a rather odd smelling tincture.

"When do the first snows come?"

"Soon. The weather in this part of the forest can change rapidly. Why do you ask?"

"Because it's snowing."

"Ah. I see."

There was a pause.

"I'm going to be here over winter, aren't I?"

"Looks like it."

Another pause. Imani looked up and saw Oswyn staring out the window.

"No need to blush." She said with a small smile.

"I'm not blushing!"

Imani chuckled. It was the first time Oswyn had heard a chuckle or a giggle from her. It was kind of cute.

"Alright... I think it is time for bed." She said, standing up and stretching. Oswyn looked out at the falling snow. A thick arm reached past him and pulled a shutter closed. Imani went around the house closing all the windows. She then began stoking up the fire and extinguishing the candles until the only light was the orange glow from the hearth. The small cottage was extremely cosy, and Oswyn let out a huge yawn.

Imani helped him to undress, and he stood sheepishly beside the bed while she folded his clothes.

"What are you waiting for? Get under the covers before you catch a cold!" Imani insisted. Oswyn pulled back the bearskin and climbed onto the bed. It felt much more comfortable than it had before. It even smelt cleaner. He lay on his side looking at the fire. He turned his gaze to Imani, who was busy undressing. It didn't take long. She undid her belt, slid her skirt off and left it in a pile on the floor. She stretched, her muscles enhanced by the firelight. Then she did something Oswyn had not been expecting. She pulled back the bearskin, climbed over Oswyn and lay down beside him. Then she pulled the covers back over them both. Oswyn squeaked as he felt big, strong arms wrap around him and pull him against her (surprisingly soft) furred body. He let out an almost involuntary sigh.

"It's far too cold outside to be sleeping on the floor, wouldn't you agree?" she whispered softly into his ear. Oswyn giggled and snuggled back against her. He felt warm and safe in her arms. He could feel her powerful body pressing against his back. It wasn't long before he was fast asleep, fatigue over taking him. Imani held him close to her, snout resting on the top of his head. He smelled nice. Not just from the soapnuts - which had a fairly neutral scent - but his natural scent. It was a dry, reptilian smell. It was extremely pleasant to Imani's bovine nose. She smiled and closed her eyes.

"I think I like you, Oswyn. I think I like you a lot." She thought, before drifting off to sleep.

***

Imani crunched through the snow, a large burlap sack over her shoulder. She was returning from a visit to the Minotaur village on the edge of the forest. It was a day's hike to reach the village, less if you ran the entire way though Imani had no intention of running in this snow. She had helped the village healer deliver two children and healed one of the warrior's hands. His tendons had been severed while fighting a human raid on the village. It was beyond the healer's extremely high level of ability to heal. Imani had repaired the damage, but it had required a great deal of energy and focus. Healing magic was not easy to do and required great precision. She had also helped them to fix the shrine to the Goddess. One of the more enigmatic gods to be certain, but when you lived on the edge of her domain, it paid to play it safe.

She sighed and adjusted her grip on the sack. Her breath hung in the air as a dense cloud. It was very cold, the coldest it had been in about five years. Imani had a decent stock of furs and skins to make into clothing though, and she had made sure to keep her supplies well stocked. So long as the winter wasn't unnaturally long she would be fine, even with a guest. As she approached her home she could hear the sound of a hammer ringing against metal. Apparently Oswyn was up and about. As the temperature dropped, he had become more sluggish. His reptilian nature was not suited for this kind of cold. Imani had worried it would slow his healing, but this at least had not changed.

She emerged into the clearing and saw Oswyn standing over the forge. He had a look of utter focus on his face as he worked the blazing coals. The air around the forge rippled. The snow had melted completely in a wide circle around the small, three-sided stone shelter the forge was housed in. Imani could feel the heat from the other side of the clearing. Putting the sack on the ground, she folded her arms and watched him work. Imani considered herself a competent blacksmith, but Oswyn worked the forge like a master. It stood to reason though. If he really were over eighty, he would have had plenty of time to perfect his craft.

She watched him draw something out of the fire. It was so hot the metal was glowing white. It was almost painful to look at. He placed the white hot metal on the anvil and picked up Imani's twenty-five pound sledgehammer in one hand, delivering an incredible blow to the metal. A shower of sparks shot up into the air, and Oswyn struck again. Imani could see his muscles bulging under his scales as he worked the metal. She wondered why he was using such a heavy hammer. Then she noticed something. The head of the hammer was surrounded by a faint blue glow. It rippled and pulsed as he struck the metal, adding a strange sound to the ringing of hammer and anvil. It was a noise almost too low to hear with the ear. It was a sound more felt than heard.

The hammer rose and fell in a slow rhythm. Imani let her eyes relax and unfocus. The air around her turned to a rich midnight blue, and the trees and plants around her turned black. She turned her gaze towards the forge and struggled to contain her gasp of surprise. Oswyn was wrapped in blazing golden light, and the head of the hammer shone like the sun. He brought it down and it left a long arc of glowing particles behind it. When the hammer struck, a bright shockwave expanded outwards, rushing through the air like the ocean tide.

Imani closed her eyes and shook her head. When she opened them again the world had returned to normal. Oswyn delivered a final blow to whatever it was he was forging, and set aside the hammer. Then he picked up the still glowing metal in his bare hands, and plunged it into the trough beside the forge. A huge cloud of steam billowed into the air. He withdrew his hand, and Imani saw that he had not been working metal. It was the blade of a hunting knife, but it was completely clear and utterly flawless, like a perfect shard of ice. The edge of the blade caught the light, and Imani saw rainbows dancing on the ground. Oswyn picked up a wooden handle from the workbench, and slotted the blade into it. He then picked up what looked like a small bronze collar, and placed it in the forge. He waited for a few moments and then pulled it out with his bare hands.

He quickly slid the collar over the handle until it covered the point where blade slotted into wood, and began moulding the metal to form a seal. Imani realised she had been watching him work for so long, ice had started to form in her mane. She shook her head and picked up the sack. She crunched into the clearing and over to the forge. The air was nearly too hot to withstand.

"Discovered the forge, have you?" She said. Oswyn nearly jumped out of his skin.

"I-Imani?! I... I mean... I... oh..." he stammered. The look of serious focus had gone, replaced by his usual bashfulness.

"It's alright. I don't mind you using the forge. Although I am annoyed you're using it now. You should not be up doing this kind of strenuous work."

"Well no, but I... I wanted to make you something... so say thank you for putting up with me."

"Oh don't say it like that! I enjoy having the company."

Oswyn smiled shyly, and then held out the knife he had made.

"Here. I forged it so it won't break or grow dull."

Imani took the knife from him. It was perfectly sized for her large hands, and the blade was balanced flawlessly.

"What is it made from?" She asked, turning the blade so it caught the winter sun.

"Diamond."

Imani nearly dropped it.

"Diamond? Did you seriously just say diamond?" She asked, staring down at the knife.

"Yes. It's got a Bull Oak handle too."

"Where on Antaeus did you get Bull Oak? And Diamond? And... and..."

Oswyn looked crestfallen.

"Don't you like it? I thought you would have preferred something useful..."

"Oh no no no! I love it! I'm just... this is just incredible!" Imani replied quickly. Oswyn beamed at her.

"But... you didn't have to do this. I don't ask for any thanks for what I do you know. I am helping you because I want to." Imani said.

"Yes I know but... well... I mean... you know... I kind of... sort of... like you. I mean, I like you as a friend, but I also like you. If you see what I mean?" Oswyn replied, looking hopeful. Imani paused, then carefully placed the knife on the worktable. She placed both hands on Oswyn's shoulders. He was already looking worried. She opened her mouth to speak, then paused. She shrugged and pulled Oswyn into a kiss. Oswyn made a muffled squeak, but made no move to repulse Imani. In fact he went kind of limp in her arms, returning the kiss with eagerness. Imani pushed them apart, and stared at the Naga, panting slightly. Oswyn was panting too (a little harder than Imani).

"You. My bed. Right now." She said.

"I like being on the bottom!" Oswyn blurted out, and then covered his mouth in shock, blushing furiously.

"I'm sure that's something I can work with." Imani replied with a grin.