Dawn Falling: IV

Story by Zwoosh on SoFurry

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#5 of Seventh Day

Here is the long since teased and hopefully much awaited penultimate chapter to Dawn Falling. I really do hope that you're all excited by this just as much as I am, since we're on what is, for now, the home stretch in regards to Stevarn and Aydame. Of course, I have plans in motion, but for now, enjoy, and be sure to leave comments below! I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Warning, some content of this story might be unpleasant towards the end, so you have been warned.

Artwork: https://www.sofurry.com/view/724466

Recommended listening: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ql1TkDU9nY


The feeling of being hunted was uncanny to Stevarn.

As he and Aydame fled, now side by side, through thick forest away from the lion camp, he couldn't help but laugh at himself for the absurdity of it all. A day or so ago, he was living an easy life of mediocrity, where his hardest challenge would be ignoring the jibes and mocking comments that would be muttered behind his back because he wasn't like the other men. Now, wounded in so many places, having been near death so many times, and having degraded his dignity to the point where he considered a futile effort to even argue he had some left, he felt alone and scared. He had expected the world to be a cruel and hostile place away from the sanctuary of the pack, but isolated entirely and left to face up against the worst possible situations imaginable had horrified him to his core - and the dreams...

The dreams were only getting stronger.

It frightened him to think that as they ran, he was vaguely aware of gunfire. He didn't know what 'gunfire' was, he didn't know why he was afraid of it, but in his head, it just screamed of danger. Even though it might have been muted, it might have been some psychotic part of his mind breaking down as it was tortured through its ordeals; it still petrified him to his core.

Aydame knew too.

He had said John. Distinctly, without fail, he had uttered the word John and not Jorr'an. He had known too, but it was impossible. It was beyond belief. Although, at this point, Stevarn was pretty ready to accept anything as truth; his world had become a shattered, fragmented echo of what he thought was real and safe, now bleeding into what it seemed to secretly be. The mask on his reality was slowly slipping, making him genuinely fear the fact he was infected with what his pack called the warrior's shadow.

In legend, the bigger a warrior's shadow was, the darker a person they would be. Through every bad deed they did, regardless of whatever motive, the shadow would grow and grow, fused to their body to follow them round wherever they might tread. Some warrior's would find this overwhelming, whose spirits could not fight off the darkness, and their shadows would consume them, leaving them as husks as to what they once were. They would become possessed by all their past actions, haunted by them forever more. No longer would they be the same person. Even if they showed some signs of recovery, returning to some semblance of themselves, they could never truly expel the shadow. It lingered on the soul, tainting it... Those afflicted typically became paranoid, saw hallucinations, panicked at even the slightest thing and had a crippling fear of all things war-like. Stevarn had seen it in his adopted uncle, a man who had once boasted the title of 'Robeer-Ko, the slayer'. After a small war between the three tribes of the lions, wolves, and horses, the very war which had recently defined the tribes' relations between one another, Robeer had begun to lose the bravado Stevarn had remembered him having. The transition was gradually, but slowly he stopped telling of extravagant drinking stories from his younger days, he stopped attending sparring practise, and he would shut himself in his hut for most of the day until the Phans came out. Stevarn remembered once catching him weeping and begging for forgiveness to the God Star, wailing as much as a cub might have done and looking like a truly broken man. Stevarn regretted not having intervened that night, as not several hours later, upon daybreak, news rapidly spread about the tribe that Robeer's body had been discovered dead at the bottom of a crevice. The elders concluded that he had committed the ritual of the ultimate offer - or suicide, as Stevarn later knew it as - and had killed himself before tumbling off the edge into the chasm to certify his death.

At the time, Stevarn had not put much thought into it. He and his uncle had never been close. His death was merely an unfortunate inconvenience for which he was truly sorry for though not deeply upset. The rest of the tribe had mourned his passing, burning the body as was befitting for a man of his title, but he had glossed over the whole ordeal quite quickly.

Now though, he couldn't help but think back to those last few weeks, watching the poor man who had been a pillar of the tribe slowly erode away as he wept over all the wrongs he had committed. The wild look in his eyes as he had bawled, apologising for every man, woman, and child he had ever slaughtered, begging to have some forgiveness to at least spare his soul for the smoke. Stevarn couldn't help but compare himself to Robeer. He was hallucinating, more vividly with each passing moment as it felt like he was speeding towards some kind of fulcrum. His mind was fraught with confusing and terrifying visions of things he knew so well yet understood so little. He'd also done so many wrongs, over and over, from killing to rape... The thought of committing the ultimate offer was tantalising, because it would end every nightmare, including the one he currently lived. As branches and brambles snagged at his fur, it seemed like a dreamy respite that he longed for. There was no doubting it, his shadow had begun to consume him. As dawn would fall to dusk, he could feel his soul turning ever so slowly black.

They had been running for hours; long enough so that morning was now ripe in the sky, with the sun shining aloft, bright and cheery now as though no danger posed a threat. Stevarn was beyond tired as every muscle and bone in his body just drowning out his mind in screams of agony. He would have begged for the stallion to stop, but the stakes were too high. The lions could break through the retreating distant horizon of trees, pursuing them in a blood-fuelled rage for having slaughtered so many of their brethren and for escaping. That, and Jorr'an was insane... The wolf didn't struggle to think of all the reasons why that leader would want them dead and their heads on pikes. But they also seemed to believe that he and Aydame had forged an alliance and that they were working together to destroy the 'Sky Guardian' - pure and absolute paranoia. Stevarn wondered maybe if Jorr'an's shadow had consumed him, although to the degree his mind has gone, it would have had to have been a monstrous shadow...

It was true though that he and Aydame had cooperated together under the circumstances to overcome a common enemy and reach a shared goal. But that's where the similarities ended. No longer did Stevarn need the horse around. The sheer size of the lion tribe would overwhelm even the horse, leaving them both with the only option to run. For once, the stallion's physical prowess was nothing now, if not a hindrance. He could not hide was well as the wolf could. He could not climb as easily as he. He was not adept at stealth, or at running, or at disappearing without a trace. Whilst he could dominate any male in an arena, whilst he might hunt them down across an open plain, he was otherwise useless darting through the forest, armed only with a sword against a horde of vicious, bloodthirsty lions set out for revenge.

Stevarn was sure Aydame knew this, as no longer did the horse exude his natural confidence or assumed authority. No, he reeked of fear now. The same fear that filled Stevarn's gut from the moment he'd been hunted down by the stallion's pack. Deep, dark fear that didn't just consume the soul but crushed it to dust, sucking out all hope, and leaving but a broken husk to linger on.

As much as the wolf dwelled on the fact they'd soon have to part ways, or at least renegotiate the terms of their relationship, they would have to first stop to recuperate strength. The tactical option for the lions would be to regroup at their tribe, to mass together what men they had left who hadn't already been wounded or killed, make all the necessary repairs to their defences, before making pursuit. Stevarn knew that when men were given an incentive, they would work harder than they had ever done before, and with Jorr'an at the helm he didn't doubt that they'd be chasing after them by nightfall. It gave them a few hours at most to put distance between them. However, both their destinations were the same; Stevarn hadn't thought further ahead after the God Star's crash site. Only know did he realise that he was relying upon his faith to bring him some third way, a way out of this nightmare. What if their religion was false? What if the God Star turned out to be nothing but debris, some celestial entity crashing to the world as a natural phenomenon? It wasn't beyond belief, but it filled the wolf with a sense of icy, uneasy dread. Those two words plagued him.

What if...

What. If.

What if we don't make it out of here?

"I don't know..." Aydame said, up ahead of him. Stevarn frowned; he hadn't said anything. That had been a voice echoing in his head, another vision sent to haunt him.

What if we die?

"Look... I..." The horse paused, coming to a stop in a clearing. They'd found their way to the river's bank again, a sweeping landscape that looked out across what had to be the widest part of the flow Stevarn had ever witnessed. The forest broke away into a deserted opening, dotted by pockmarking rocks that had been strewn up by flooding waters and then abandoned upon lush green grass. The stallion staggered to the water's edge and dropped to his knees, uncaring if he grazed himself upon the shingles. He slurped hungrily with his paws at the water, dipping his head down and drinking ungraciously, as though he no longer cared if he degraded himself to some feral being. "Just... We're not gonna die, okay? We'll find a way out of this..."

"I didn't say anything..."

Stevarn warily stepped up behind him, venturing into the clearing and shading his eyes from the morning sun. He stared at the stallion's back, he continued to slave at the shoreline drinking until his thrist was quenched, water dribbling down his muzzle and across his chest. When he rose back up and stood to face the wolf, he noticed Stevarn's apprehension.

"I won't rape you again, if that's what you're worried about."

"No, it's not that..." Stevarn trailed off, keeping his distance from the stallion. He even stepped back when Aydame made a move to go forwards. He snorted in frustration, unhappy that the closeness they'd shared back at the cell, back all those hours ago, was no apparently gone and forgotten,

"Then what is it?" He spat, irritably, "What the hell is wrong with you? One minute you're asking if we're going to be okay, now you're afraid of me." His face contorted into an expression of anger, quelled only by his ability to calm himself down. Still, Stevarn kept the distance between them, unsure of the entire situation.

"You're in my dreams..."

Aydame shot him a look of frightened panic, but it melted so quickly and smoothly into annoyance that he almost missed it,

"What are you talking about?"

"You," Stevarn closed the gap between them, rising up to the horse's challenge and prodding him defiantly in the chest, "are in my dreams. I know you... I don't know why or how, but you're there." The horse snorted again, mocking him, but the wolf was indignant, responding in kind, "Sure, laugh, but you know it's true because you have them too, don't you?" There was no response, "I saw you sleeping... Back in the woods, after you fucking raped me, you were having a nightmare. You have one every night, don't you? Without fail, a nightmare about some life you never knew you had. Like a vision..." Aydame's jaw was set firmly, grinding his teeth as he listened to the wolf with growing impatience, "Back in that prison, you asked about what I was dreaming of. You were invasive about it all, keen to know the details - like it mattered to you. You wanted to know if they were the same, didn't you? You wanted to know if we were having the same dreams."

"I don't know what you mean," Aydame shoved past him, slumping down against a rock and rubbing his eyes with one paw. His brow was furrowed in deep thought, as though he were pained by the very act of thinking. "You're just spouting crazy shit. You're just exhausting from everything. You should rest.

Stevarn scowled,

"His name is John. Liar. You know exactly what I'm talking about. This isn't exhaustion or madness. This is real, and it's happening to you too." That was the main piece of evidence Stevarn had. It was what hinged it all together. He might have let it slide, every coincidence that had ever occurred between the two of them, each vision he'd had and the voices in his head, he could have let it all go so long as Aydame hadn't confirmed he knew that lion's name - that _other_lion, the one that had tried to kill him in the alien world. Aydame had shown him his cards at that moment, revealing the truth that could have gone by concealed.

"I misspoke."

"Liar."

"Shut up..."

"Tell me, Aydame!" Stevarn roared, yelling into the stallion's face, "For fucking once, be honest with me and tell me what the fuck is going on!" There was a pregnant pause between the two of them, Aydame's dark eyes staring back into his own. For once, the wolf wasn't going to back down. He was a dead man in any case. His life was nothing to him now. Since being exiled, he had been thrown about like a child's plaything and abused. His desire to live was only balanced out by the desire to get to the God Star. Beyond that, he might as well drop dead for all he cared. Aydame could do nothing to harm him anymore. If he tried to rape the wolf, he would stab either him or himself. If he tried to kill him, so be it. There was nothing he could do anymore to hurt him. He was out of options.

"You want the truth..." The stallion said, his tone level and low, "Very well... Yes, you're right. I have dreams - vivid, impossible dreams. I dream of lands I've never seen, of people I've never met; people like you and John, who speak of people I apparently know, like Isaac. I see wars I've never witnessed, contraptions only thinkable by those infernal foxes, places in the middle of a cold wilderness. And in all of it, we die. Every time, we always die, and I'm filled with some horrible guilt like I didn't save you. You specifically, that I failed to save you from whatever fate befalls you." He grunted and stood up, beginning to pace back and forth as though tortured by the memories, "I had thought it was all just some bad childhood memory, taunting me. But then you fucking show up. In the middle of nowhere, whilst I'm out hunting, you show up. On any other day, were you not so apparently special, I would have cut your throat there and then. But no, I let you live, because something inside me made me spare your life." He ran both his paws through his mane, pulling at the locks, "Then... Then everything turned to shit, and the visions are becoming stronger. We, you and I, we're always together, always. In the dreams, you're always there, and I don't understand why. Not yet, not fully..."

Silence fell between them as the horse's confession came to a slow drawl, then stopped altogether. Stevarn was shaking, not from fear or apprehension, but from shock. He had always thought he was just being mad, that as a child he'd let terrors push his conscience around all the way up until he was an adult. He'd been dismissed by those around him as nothing more than an overactive imagination, fuelled by stories passed around by cubs that were made to terrify them. But apparently not; it was impossible that Aydame experienced the same things he had, of places they had never been and of people they'd never met. How could two people, separated to the fullest possible degree, be haunted by the exact same visions with a startling amount of clarity and depth? They were from completely separate species! It just didn't make sense. None of it made sense. It was something unnatural, something omniscient working at play to tamper with their lives.

"Stevarn..." Aydame spoke softly, his voice laced with just the faintest traces of worry, "What are we going to do?"

The question alone was enough to make the wolf's blood boil in his veins, his face shifting into one of seething rage,

"What are we going to do?" he exclaimed, jaw dropped at the sheer absurdity, "What do you mean 'what are we going to do?' I don't give a fucking wag of my fucking tail what you do. I'm going to the God Star, and you can go elsewhere." Aydame recoiled at the wolf's ferocity, taken aback by the attitude,

"What the hell?" he said, dumbfounded, "What the fuck is your problem? I've tried to do nothing but help you."

"Oh sure, because raping me really saved my ass," Stevarn growled, paw tightening against the hilt of his dagger. He prepared for the worst. The stallion looked guilty, his expression downcast and his voice even weaker,

"Now that's not fair..."

"Oh, I'm sorry; you wanted me to be fair? I'm sure it was pretty fair when you decided that using my mouth wasn't necessary! I'm sure it was fair that it was me who got us out of that cell, whilst you were prepared to lie down and die! I bet it was fair that you decided I'd become your little harem-slave; would you like me to raise my tail now for you, or are we going to wait until the lions are almost upon us so you can die mid-orgasm?" His chest was heaving from the anger, sharp breaths cutting the air and extenuating the tension. Aydame's face was black, his eyes refusing to even address the wolf as he spoke,

"Those were just... misunderstandings. If I knew then what I know now, things would have been different. But the very fact you're standing alive here before me is because I hesitated, surely that's cause enough to forgive me!" It wasn't, by Stevarn's standards it didn't even begin to touch upon forgiveness. At best, it was just a technicality that normally might have passed the horse off as kinder than his brothers, but the circumstances were different now.

"No," he said flatly, folding his arms, "What you did was unforgivable. By every God left up above, why should I ever forgive you?" When Aydame did not answer, Stevarn took it as his response. So it was done, whatever alliance, bond, or companionship that had been forged between them was now severed as quickly as it had been made, an inevitable outcome considering the rocky beginnings it took footings on. Stevarn relaxed his grip upon his dagger and went to take his own drink from the river's bank, feeling as though an immense weight was finally lifting from his shoulders. The burden of being subjugated beneath the horse, forced to serve him, was no longer a worry. He felt free. As free as he could, but it was better than the past few hours.

"What do you want me to say...?" Aydame finally spoke up, his voice quiet though he stared at the ground, his eyes wet. The wolf did not believe his tears. They were as false as the water's reflection, and just as unfounded. How could the stallion suffer the departure of the wolf when yet he had proposed and enforced making Stevarn's life a living nightmare?

"Say nothing, horse," Stevarn cut over him, obtusely forcing himself to ignore just the faintest of sniffles coming from the stallion. He bluntly continued, talking loudly as he tried not to buckle to his better nature. This man had raped him. It was inexcusable, "I'm going to the God Star; you can go find your herd. We both get what we want - you should be happy. You no longer have to risk your life saving my ass, but then again, that's all you ever wanted really."

"Is that what you think?"

"That's what I know!" He spat out in a vicious yell, his face angry. It roared with much greater anger than he'd anticipated, more than he'd even thought he'd had. It bothered him that the horse was playing the victim. It made him uneasy to think that, were it not for the current circumstances, he found himself to be fond of the stallion. It made little sense. The whole notion that he even _desired_him was sickening enough; but he focused intently upon the misgivings. The negatives they'd both encountered, fixating upon whatever Aydame had done to wrong Stevarn, as to prove justification for his declaration of splitting apart. Just as though he knew, Aydame let a bitter smile peel at his lips,

"It irks you, doesn't it?" Stevarn refused to respond. "It bothers you that we're both here, both sharing the same impossible situation, and that you're perfectly fine with it. Tell me, wolf; if I had not... if I hadn't had sex with you, how would you be acting now? Would you still be desperate to get away from me, or would you wish to work together?"

"You have no interest in the God Star."

"Irrelevant," Aydame waved a dismissive paw, "Right now, we are still fleeing from the lions - a fact which we seem to be ignoring whilst we quarrel like foals - our goal should be to find sanctuary."

"My goal," the wolf corrected, snapping tiredly, "would be to get to the God Star first, before the lions attempt to cut us off. Your goals are based solely in survival for perhaps a few days more at most. I seek something greater than what you could ever understand."

"You base your goals in faith," the stallion was gathering courage, standing up to face the wolf, looking down upon him from his towering height, "Blind faith, as though it would do you good to chase some falling light." Stevarn growled. He would not have his beliefs tested. But he had no real means of countering the horse's points. He would have to change tactics,

"Why would it matter then what I wanted? Surely, if you wish to survive, you'd have a better chance of going alone - no dead weight slowing you down. You seem keen to have me tag along... so if I'm not to become your slave, then why do you need me?" Stevarn closed the gap between them, baring his teeth as he stood up to the stallion. He would not be intimidated now, after all that he had come through. "Why bother coming back for me?"

Aydame's eyes blinked only once, but for a fraction they allowed Stevarn to see into his soul - a meek, worried soul that was clawing for answers. Deep down, Aydame was just as scared and out of place as the wolf was.

"What do you mean?"

"You fought to rescue me from the lions. Why? Why risk your life for mine? Answer me, this once, if we're going to finally get everything out in the open."

Struggling with the answer, the stallion seemed to search his mind for some excuse. Behind his gaze, Stevarn could see him testing their plausibility, running through the possible lies he could tell, but the wolf was far too enraged to let some dismissive comment slide. He would have the stallion tell him the truth even if it meant beating it out of him. For what he lacked in strength and size he could make up for in brains and agility.

"I wished to know about your dreams," he eventually said, voice failing to even falter as he pretended that was what had plagued him.

"Liar, you didn't even know that I shared the dreams. You just knew I was from them. Tell me the truth, horse, or I swear I will cut your knee caps. Enough with your shit!"

"Because I love you!" Aydame bellowed, eyes clenched shut and chest heaving with the exertion. Spittle flied from his muzzle as he roared the words, antagonised to the point where he could stand it no more. Stevarn was taken aback by the outburst, no matter how much he expected it. The sheer ferocity the horse commanded was enough to leave him backing away if only slightly, the noise rattling in his chest as the vibrations caught upon his ribs. For a moment, the stallion had a wild, desperate look in his eyes, something which a prey might have when hunted. Stevarn didn't need to goad any further response from the stallion; it seemed momentum was enough to leave him tumbling down into a manic rant, "I don't even understand! How can I love you when I've only met you, how is it even possible, yet I can't deny it. I would tear apart the very fabric of divine world for you, if it would make you happy. You have the sweetest voice, the softest face, the sharpest mind, and above all you infest my slumbering hours as though you were toying with them yourself. How do you do it?" His paws grabbed at Stevarn's biceps, pulling him close, face to face with those frightened eyes, "I had never even met you, yet you're there, and I love you so dearly that I would do anything to be by your side. I ignore pain, emotional and physical, just to keep your company. I love you, yet I have barely any idea as to who you are!" Aydame's voice cracked, forcing him to choke upon a sob. He let Stevarn go, staggering backwards a step or two as he rubbed at his face vigorously to dispel anything that would belie weakness. He stopped talking after that, holding back whimpers of some unknown pain.

"Aydame..." Stevarn said rather mutely, his jaw working to form words but his voice failing to make the sounds, "I... I mean..."

"I love you," he finished, mustering the strength for a final say, "It's wrong and it's impossible, but I do." He swallowed a lump in his throat, his speech tinged with emotion, "So if you truly want to go to this... God Star... then we shall. I will go with you. But don't you dare try to send me away. I won't abandon you again."

"Agai-?"

Stevarn didn't have chance to finish his question when suddenly he felt the stallion embrace him. The warmth of the horse's body fell flush with his own, and lips sought out his until they met. Aydame had to bow much of his height to come nearly level with the wolf's stature, but he made no complaints as he passionately kissed the male. Gone was the cold malice that had lain behind his intentions back in the dark camp, now illuminated in the dawn of the day with soft heat. He was gentle, paws caressing across the wolf's back as he held their bodies closer to one another's. Stevarn thought of fighting back, of maintaining some integrity to his desire to void himself of this sexual relation, but he found himself giving in; as though some deeper recess of him wanted this all along, but only when he had acquired the truth. The stallion's rough tongue pressed against his lips until they'd worked into his muzzle. Stevarn wasn't accustomed to such a practice, at least not with Issak, but the sensation was a welcome one. The unusual taste swept through his muzzle whilst an alien muscle explored the contours of his mouth, slipping against his own tongue as Aydame took control. Whilst an bizarre taste, he could see himself growing to like it, the earthy notes and bitter hues having some uncanny appeal to them. He decided to risk a return of the gesture, pushing his tongue forwards instead to sample the horse's mouth. Frankly, he didn't know exactly what to expect or to do, but he improvised when those leathery lips part and that tongue beckoned him in. Flatter teeth were the first things he noted, mixed with the unfamiliar pattern of the horse's maw. It felt greatly different to his own, with its own textures, scents, and flavours, leaving him to break off the kiss with an unusual memory from the experience.

"I'm... sorry."

Stevarn silenced him by wrapping his arms about the stallion's waist by consent and bringing him into another kiss. He was done with the anger and the fighting. Though it could all come back at a moment's notice, he wanted some other memory that was no longer riddled with worries over his own existence, of Aydame's existence or of the looming threat that would surely hunt them down like beasts. He wanted a memory that was his own. Not a dream or illusion brought about through dark magic of some kind, but something he could claim to be a happy memory entirely to himself. Something he would refuse to share with anyone but Aydame, since he had become a fixation in his life, it would seem.

The horse was shocked by the wolf's forwardness, but he soon melted into the kiss, slowly transitioning from fearful and apologetic to passionate and tender. Rough lips mashed against his own, whilst being quite alien to him, he found it all very thrilling. To partake in the act of life with another male from another species! It was unheard of! Stevarn was about to commit the greatest sin of all, yet he wanted nothing more than to be at the service of the stallion, not as a slave, but as a born lover. It send his body into a tumbling chaos of urges he'd never felt. Even with Issak, he had never quite been this... desperate? The wolf couldn't quite place his finger upon what it truly was he felt. All he knew was that it went beyond anything previously experienced - as though this was something falling into place, something that had been destined to happen.

His paws snuck down to Aydame's loincloth, fumbling for the knot that held the garment up against his waist. The stallion grabbed his wrists, pulling his arms away and then pushing him back then some. Naturally Stevarn was not amused, pulling a deathly glare mixed with a frown. Just what exactly was the horse playing at now? He would not be toyed with as though he were some flirting young woman, taunting potential males for who would take her virginity.

"No..." He said absently, his face clouded over for a moment. Stevarn realised he wasn't talking to him, but to himself, "No, if we are to do this, we must do it right..."

To the wolf's amazement, the stallion lowered himself onto one knee, his right leg standing upon its hoof whilst his knelt upon his left. He put his right arm across his chest, balling his paw up into a fist and clasped it over his heart. Looking up to Stevarn's face, he proclaimed in a deep, solemn voice, "I, Aydame of the Third Grand Herd, do offer myself unto you, Stevarn of the Wolves. Do you accept me as your lover for this day?"

Stevarn hesitated, his mouth open and his eyes utterly confused. He did not answer. He knew not what he was agreeing to nor did he understand what Aydame was talking about. The stallion looked nervous though, as if he were taking it truly seriously.

"What...?" He managed to stammer after a while of silence, bemused by the whole situation. Refusing to rise from his position, the horse hissed back, as though fearful he would disrupt the odd performance,

"It's just for show, nothing major, but for my people sex between equals is treated as a great practice... Just agree to all that I say and go along with it," Stevarn was still not convinced, rewarding him with an exasperated sigh, "I promise I shall not misguide you and trick you, just say yes."

Rolling his eyes, the wolf could do little to refuse to stallion if it meant speeding things along. Never had the act of life been formalised in such a manner by his tribe; sure, they had treated it as a sacred ritual between two soul mates, an act that was reserved alone between lovers in order to bring new wolves into the world. But there were no vows or agreements, no ceremonies. Once mates had been picked, officiated by the chief and elders, they were free to engage however they wished. He spoke up in a dry tone,

"I accept?"

"Then by the Great Divine, my body is now yours." Aydame stood up, rising to his full height and puffing out his chest as far as it could, displaying the power he held beneath the veneer of a gentle giant, "Do you, Stevarn of the Wolves, surrender yourself unto me, Aydame of the Third Grand Herd, in servitude of our pleasures?"

"Yes?" He was perplexed by the wording. Was he agreeing to become a slave, or was he imaging the connotation himself? It was hard to second guess the stallion. It was such a remarkable shift from his former lack lustre self to the now regimented and formal man.

"Both sides have consented to the mating; let us respect and admire the gifts the Great Divine has brought us through nature," Aydame brought up a paw to brush against Stevarn's cheek. His thumb smoothed over his muzzle, fingers tracing through the fur in delicate lines. There wasn't enough pressure there to leave the wolf with any lasting feeling, but it tickled when those digits stroked across his body. The paw made invisible lines all across his body, going from his cheek down his neck, down through the middle of his chest - circling the heart on the way - before slipping down the navel. Two paws returned up Stevarn's stomach, fingers swirling patterns through his fur before they danced across his bared nipples. He was unable to stop the soft moan that escaped his lips as those tips graced the nubs, holding back a shudder that would have surely belied his true feelings. The stallion merely smiled, paws drifting away across his shoulders and then down his arms, descending to his own paws. As Aydame entwined their fingers, he spoke once more, "Our two souls, once separate and alone, shall fuse together in a ceremony of the flesh and pleasure. We shall join as is decreed by Divinity itself; for this, we are two men. Therefore, under Herd law, one must submit to the other. Stevarn, you have submitted yourself to me. If you have any objections, raise them now, for once we start there is no turning back - you shall become mine for as long as I deem fit, for as long as the Great Divine permits."

Stevarn stayed quiet. He was thinking. It was all happening very fast, perhaps too fast for him, but his mind reeled now to possibly conjure up whatever questions he had. Of course he would not object. He had come so far now, done so much, to turn down his only chance of sanctuary for a moment would be incredulous. But nothing coalesced in his mind. Clearly he was in too deep to just simply refuse, nor did he know what would follow once he agreed to this final chance. But it still terrified him all the same. He trusted Aydame for as much as it was worth, though he doubted the value of trust in recent light, but even the stallion seemed to be on edge. They were headed for something beyond their comprehension - Stevarn could feel it in his very being. His bones were weary, the gravity of the situation getting to him. This might be his last chance of bliss before evil came.

"I do not object."

Aydame's eyes shone with relief, as though he'd been biting his tongue the entire time, waiting for the response that had taken far too long to come. His shoulders relaxed just a fraction, but he kept his solid gaze fixed upon Stevarn, his paws tightening in the wolf's clasp.

"Under Herd law, you are now mine."

Already, Stevarn could sense a shift in the stallion's demeanour. He felt those paws push against his own, forcing him to kneel. At a weak angle and with little strength to muster against that of the powerhouse horse, he did all that he could to keep his wrists from bending to far back and breaking. He fell to his knees in the least elegant of ways, the force jarring his shins but otherwise leaving him unscathed. His paws were let go, Aydame now reaching for the back of Stevarn's head. For amoment, the wolf believed he would be made to take the horse's member, but instead the paw clamped upon the back of his head and pushed him further down, until he was practically standing upon all fours with his face to the ground. His muzzle was forced towards the stallion's feet - or rather his hooves, as Stevarn knew the differences of anatomy amongst species having been taught well enough by the elders. He hadn't paid them much heed until now, preferring instead to focus upon other issues at any given time, but now he could do nothing else but pay attention to them. They were quite absurd to him, having been accustomed to footpaws and paws alike in his time. Even the equine paws lacked the claws and pads that the wolves and even lions exhibited. They were very different, in ways Stevarn had thought freakish. The cock Aydame had hidden away was one thing, for he had never seen anything like it, but hooves he had grown to know some detail about.

They were a dark black, tinted with some off-colouring of grey, but otherwise glossy save for the odd chip or brittle scratch. There were no toes, no digits attached to the foot, merely the black, smoothly polished block that curved in a misshapen crescent that curled too far in on itself. He was unsure what he was to do, staring at the hoof as though he would suddenly glean some inspiration on what he should do next. He needn't have hoped for some sentient miracle. Aydame stepped in with yet more speech, rambling on some more about what should have been a simple act,

"We shall start with the hooves, for you as the subservient, are beneath them. Before we go any further, the subservient must acknowledge their position, just as the dominant must realise his authority by enacting it." He spoke softly, almost too quietly that Stevarn nearly missed what he said, "You need to lick them... clean them, even. This is worship. Sex for horses is worship to the Great Divine..."

Stevarn did not know what else to do other than to take Aydame prior advice and just simply to go along with it. He tentatively leaned forward, his tongue slipping out, peeking from between his lips as he steeled himself for the experience. He had no idea how it would feel or taste, if it'd even be pleasurable or if it would repulse him greatly. Still, he had agreed and made an unspoken deal. To go back now would be dishonourable for him and disrespectful to the stallion. He had dabbled with a little foot play with Issak before; nothing terribly lewd, just some masturbation, a little licking, but nothing quite so extreme.

As his tongue made contact with the smoothed hoof, he closed his eyes, choosing instead to let his tongue inform him of the sensation. The taste wasn't surprising, but oddly enjoyable. Though Stevarn had no clue as to why he found it that way, it was as though he were sampling an earthier flavour of the horse's musk. The taste reminded him of taking the stallion's member, only that from the crotch it had been sharper, whilst this was more dulled. Still, as Stevarn rasped his tongue across its glossy surface, he found the whole act unnervingly arousing. It was true what Aydame said, as convoluted as it was with all the formality, but it illustrated perfectly the submission he was expressing to the horse. At his feet, very much below him, and licking clean his hooves as though he were a servant, nay... a slave. He could feel his need beginning to swell in his groin, his sheath fattening and a tip of pink poking from the silvered fur. Aydame reached down to unclasp the wolf's gear as he busied himself servicing the stallion's hooves.

"The flesh shall be made naked. There is nothing off limits under the Great Divine. All is to be respected, admired, and enjoyed."

As the cold air began to brush against Stevarn's exposed waist, he moved to the other hoof by his own instinct, tail raised involuntarily as a breeze ruffled his cleft. He felt very much vulnerable in the open by the river, naked save for the fur he'd been born with, Aydame tossing his stuff aside against the rocks. His tongue slathered across the second hoof with just as much eagerness, working his spit into the bone-like shield. He didn't question much what exactly it was. If he delved too deeply, he feared he might not like or grasp what he learnt. Instead he put his faith in Aydame that he just wasn't forcing the wolf into humiliating and disgusting positions, making him endure tasks that are filthy or degrading. He continued to lap, a heavy blush setting across his face as he worshipped the mighty stallion's footing.

"That shall do," he spoke in that hushed voice, directing Stevarn to stop. "Now that the position is recognised, may the subservient now acknowledge that whilst his position is beneath the dominant, he is to recognise that he is there for he is the weaker of the two; the dominant shall be worshipped for his prowess endowed upon him by nature."

Stevarn rose to his footpaws unsteadily, looking up at Aydame's face. He merely had his eyes closed, and instead whilst not directing the wolf now made it obvious what was to follow now by context. He took up a posture whereby his muscles flexed, his chest bulging with spitting veins and his limbs rounded by the muscles which bunched up there. The wolf knew that even in his own culture, strength was greatly appreciated. To be strong meant to survive. Without strength, an individual would fall prey to whoever was greater, unable to defend themselves. His time with Issak had taught him much of that, knowing the hunters to be highly engrossed in building up their mass so as to appear brawny. Stevarn had spent many a time simple cooing at the size Issak had grown in to, loving the sensation of being held by such strong arms, knowing he could very well be crushed or forced to do anything by them, yet feeling comforted all the same by their protection. Horses were unlike wolves though; for as much as a wolf could be strong, they were inherently more lithe than that of an equine. Hunting in dense forest had left wolves with agility unmatched by horse kind, but open meadows and flat terrain had allowed them to master that with shattering bulk. It showed now upon Aydame, for he looked far larger as he did in this stance than any other male Stevarn had seen in his tribe before. Even the chief would have appeared feeble and meek beside the stallion as he did now. He reached up to Aydame's biceps, immediately cupping them in his paws like he might have with Issak, squeezing the impressive mass beneath and finding little give. Acting upon pure instinct alone now, he nuzzled up to the sweaty limbs, his nose burying deep as possible into the crevices and fur, inhaling the rich scent and feeling the power fall rigid beneath his very touch.

Putting his lips to Aydame's muscles, Stevarn closed his eyes to match the stallion's own. He felt the soft flesh beneath his mouth, tangy sweat bleeding across his tongue as he made chaste kisses from across one arm to the other. Whatever dirt and grime that had been marring the stallion's body was soaked up by the wolf, who could only worship the horse in the only fashion he knew how. Each fluttering kiss had him breathing harder and harder, his mind a flurry with all the thoughts of what he was doing. It would surely descend to greater things, but the foreplay was intoxicating. Stevarn took it a little further, improvising upon his own accord, as he pushed his muzzle under the stallion's armpits, his nose meeting with damper fur, thicker than the rest on his body and richer in its stench. He breathed its aroma, his mind casting back to days with Issak. The wolf had loved this, Stevarn's nose under his arm, taking in his musk and lapping at the sweat. He had told him there was barely anything greater than the feeling of a male performing such sultry deeds. Aydame breathed in sharply, and for a moment Stevarn thought he had done wrong, paws stroking upon along the horse's chest pausing in a moment of concern. But his eyes caught the sight of something bumping up against the horse's abdomen.

Looking down, Stevarn spotted the now familiar scene of that blunt, flaring head, staring back at him with a single dribbling eye that pulsed each time a surge of pre leaked from its tip. Aydame was enjoying his ministrations, keeping to his pose though in true style credit to his little ritual. By now, the wolf was just happy to oblige, moving down to the stallion's torso and sliding his tongue across the bulk of his chest, moving over the tattooed flesh that lay beneath, black tribal patterns stark against brown fur. The pectoral muscles were pronounced, thick under his touch, and mesmerising to the wolf's taste. Whilst he suckled upon one nipple of the horse's, his paw reached to tweak and rub across the second. Once again, Aydame winced and shivered in his stance, but otherwise kept to it and declined to move despite all the sensations Stevarn delivered him. He could do nothing whilst the wolf nibbled ever so gently against the protruding stub, biting it just hard enough to leave the male squirming to keep his position. It probably went against the whole image of the subservient, but Stevarn was having too much fun. Still, he had just put his nose into the dank pits of the male. Surely that was submission enough.

Just as he was about to move to the second nipple, he was stopped by Aydame. Stevarn suspected that he simply believed he couldn't bear the other being tortured, though he gave little indication. He continued with his ceremony, proceeding to what Stevarn assumed must be the penultimate part,

"Authority and power have been acknowledged; it is now time to begin the joining of flesh. The subservient shall take into him the dominant's flesh however he desires, however many times he chooses. This is the ultimate exchange of bodies, the fusion between men becoming ultimate under the Great Divine as one submits to the other. From this stage onwards, pleasures will become one, bodies shall become one, and desires shall become one. There is no need for further displays of submission other than that of service itself. Mine forever more." Aydame looked into the wolf's eyes, an intense lust burning in the depth of his gaze. For a brief moment, one that startled Stevarn so much he barely realised it when it happened, but Aydame's whole body shimmered in a green haze, replaced by a man he had never seen before but recognised intimately. Horns grew from the horse's scalp, his muzzle shortening to something stouter, and his build augmenting ever so slightly. Speaking in Aydame's voice, this new beast spoke, "You'll always be mine."

Just as Stevarn was about to pull away, he blinked, and Aydame was back. The wolf didn't have a single moment to collect on what he'd just seen, for already the stallion was pushing him back down once against by his shoulders, making the male kneel before him. He was forced to forget what he saw, deeming it to be some illusion or trick of the light, even exhaustion if it were that, as the stallion took a hold of his cock. The wolf's maleness was painfully hard, throbbing at its full firmness from his crotch, but he didn't desire to touch it. Instead he opened his mouth obediently, taking the cock of the horse for the first time completely willingly. The sensation was far better than the previous time, as though consent now improved the feeling. He flushed as that fat head pushed against his lips, smearing the edges of his mouth with thick trails of pre before the flare slipped into his waiting muzzle. Moaning in hushed tones, he felt the member push inward, coming to the back of his throat swiftly, and then pushing down more. He choked, if only momentarily, before Aydame's strong paw clamped upon the back of his head once again. The strength that impaled him upon that cock was enough to fortunately overcome the reflex to gag, though some spittle was gurgled past Stevarn's strained lips. He felt every inch slide into him, his neck already bloated from the mass that was slipping its way deeper into his gullet until he was pressed against the male's crotch. Aydame's persistence was unmatched by the wolf's ability, and so his nose pressed into the stallion's coarse pubic fur within seconds. The warmth coming off of the male's crotch was astonishing, as it bathed his face in a musky hotness that had his eyes fluttering, his mind swimming in the haze of arousal from what surely had to be something akin to a female's heat. Heavy balls slapped against the wolf's chin whilst he was held there for a moment, writhing upon the male's cock as it buried itself as deep as possible within his maw, knowing that soon the seed which churned within them would most likely be in his stomach or flooding his gut. Either way, Stevarn could not wait. The anticipation of what they would now share was too much to bear.

Aydame gripped the sides of the wolf's head, making a change from his service back in the cell. Once more, Stevarn was not in control, simply allowing the stallion to take point as he placed both paws upon his head. His thumbs dug into his ears as though they were holds, bearing down on them not with viciousness but enough force to let Stevarn know that he was to either accept this or suffer much discomfort. Slowly, he felt the horse pull back, the cock withdrawing from his muzzle in a deliberate move. Each inch seemed to drag upon his maw, letting him know the leathered texture quite well as it slid outward. The flare tugged and scraped across his throat, across his mouth until it was nearly at the lips. Stevarn braced for the inevitable re-entry, still gagging again even though he was prepared as the monster plunged back down. He wasn't sure if he could ever grow accustomed to the size, but he was sure he would try for what little time they had. He was certain he could take the male, given enough patience and chances, but for now he was made to endure. It was still very much pleasurable, but took a great deal of willpower not to fight back against the cock which sunk into his throat. Once again, he groaned as Aydame began to withdraw once his nose kissed his pubic fur, pulling back out until again the tip remained. As he pushed back in, making the motions now quite familiar to that of fucking, he added a small twist to the wolf's head, swivelling his muzzle to one side to provide that extra pleasure for the horse as his dick fucked the wolf's maw. Stevarn blushed whilst this happened, unable to stop it and now resorting to groping his own swollen knot whilst grasping at the stallion's ankles for support. His body trembled from the use, again as Aydame pulled out only to push back in, he twisted in the opposite direction, and whilst the angles were slight it still had Stevarn whimpering and moaning like a cub. It was utterly enraptured by the sensation, not aware that a male could use another's mouth this way, but he loved it. Issak had normally just allowed him to do whatever he pleased when it came to servicing a male's cock, but this was a level beyond that. It was so much more sordid and lewd. Stevarn had to hold himself back from just stroking himself to completion as it happened.

"So wet..." Aydame huffed, his voice delirious and lost, "So hot... Gonna..."

Whilst abrupt, Stevarn could see the signs. The foreplay had been enticing enough to leave even him on edge, but he hadn't had the additional stimulation the stallion had. He could see Aydame's build tensing, his body trying to hold back the need as much as possible, but it was a losing battle. The wolf could see by his expression that he was failing it holding off his climax. His thrusts became erratic, sped up until he was simply pummelling in the last inch into Stevarn's aching maw, his jaw opened as far as it could whilst his face was fucked. There was no resisting the horse, who was by now absorbed in his own lust, gritting his teeth and flapping his lips. The wolf could only wait, looking up to the stallion's head and waiting for the flow. Aydame growled loudly, the sound turning into a panicked neigh until he yelled, slamming Stevarn's head down upon his cock as hard as he could manage, his member buried as deep as it could go. His hips bucked, Stevarn forced to ride the movements until he felt the surge in his body, Aydame's cock throbbed with blood whilst he came. There was no taste to it, for he went past the tongue so entirely that the load was deposited straight to his stomach. Stevarn could feel the heat though, as sweltering as it was, rushing into his belly and filling him up. It didn't take much until he could feel his stomach begin to swell and gurgle with the seed; the stallion must have shot off a bucket load to leave him with the impression that he was with child. Stevarn's face burned intently with an embarrassing blush, his face straining against the horse's crotch as he could not move whilst the stallion held him there, letting the cum pour into his gut.

He had to let Stevarn breathe though, and so Aydame relinquished his grip. The wolf back up on the cock swiftly, the member slurping from his muzzle with an unceremonious squelch, spatters of the remaining seed flicking across his mouth and face. He panted hard, sucking in the sorely needed air that he'd been deprived of. He felt full, so full and with a taste of potent male upon his tongue. Through it all, he still felt heady, wanting more than just this, and though his stomach was now full with enough cum to shame several men and more back in his tribe, Stevarn desired more within him. Cradling his swollen stomach with one paw, rubbing the swirling spooge inside him, he crawled over to the stallion he had since collapsed back against the rock, recuperating strength from the immense orgasm. He didn't say anything; he just watched Stevarn as he approached, slipping down the rock into a sitting position with his cum-slathered cock wilting in an arch from his groin. It bobbed again with the rush of urges when Stevarn's paws took a hold of it, the fingers wrapping around the flaccid length and stroking it until it once more became hard. He teased the stallion back into need, his eyes glazed over whilst their lust took control.

Sitting across the horse's lap, Stevarn lifted himself forwards. He spat into one paw, moving the wad of saliva to his hole and rubbing in his spit. He managed to get a few fingers in from years of stretching to accommodate a wolf - after having taken Issak's knot so many times, as well as Aydame once back in the forest, he had no doubt he would manage, it would just be slow-going. He removed his paws from his ass and leant back. Aydame didn't need to command him or force him to do anything; his paws simply held the wolf as he proceeded to push back onto the male's member. One paw went to his waist, whilst the other took up under his arm. Gradually, Stevarn felt that fat head push in between his cheeks, slipping around until it found his puckering hole. The cum from before would make things easier, thankfully, and his oral work could only add to that, but he still feared how it would feel willingly taking it up the rear this time. Before it had been painful, and rightfully so, for it was unwanted, but now he did want it. Whilst there might have been some hint of pleasure from it before, would he find the same again, or would the agony be simply too much to bear?

The head lurched suddenly, Stevarn's weight slipping, and Aydame's cock speared open his hole. His mind seared with white flashes of pain as the sharp initial entry tore through him. In the back of his mind, he heard Aydame talking, asking him if he was okay to continue, if he was alright, but all he saw was that beast again, genuine worry etched upon his face, but as the pain dulled down so too did the stallion return to normal. He soon realised he was panting hard, the wind having been knocked clean out of him whilst he'd slipped down what must have been several inches of ebony horse meat. Grunting, he pushed his weight down further, ignoring the look of concern of Aydame's face turn to one of lewd bliss. The fat cock worked its way into his depths, shaping out his gut to mould about the spire of horse flesh. As he felt his body slide further down, the flared head pushed into his walls, prising them apart to pave the passage for the cock's entry. Stevarn whimpered, ears flattening against his skull whilst he felt his bowels accommodate the massive intruder. His whole body was shuddering from the exertion, sensations never felt before riding their way up his spine, starting from his tail and working up to his neck. He ached in ways unimaginable, the feeling unmistakable uncomfortable yet still with a note of pleasure on the periphery. But as Stevarn felt himself coming to the widest part, gradually lowering down until he sat flush with Aydame's crotch, that pleasure was rapidly shifting into focus. The pressure the member placed against his prostate was fierce, leaving his own dick drooling across the horse's abdomen, still very much hard and neglected of any attention. Stevarn was too much preoccupied with this stallion in his guts to bother though, breathing heavily as he shifted a little to test what give he had. Every motion he made was accentuated by the plunge in his gut, the sensation jolting right up through his groin. He felt stuffed full, stomach bloated with seed and now his rump crammed with horse meat. His face felt like it was burning with a ferocious heat, his body ablaze in the throe of bliss. Perhaps it was painful, but Stevarn was on too much of a high to care. It was like the Gods had poured eternal paradise through his veins and left him to simmer in the glory of it all.

Aydame stroked his sides in encouragement, but Stevarn was wrapped up in his own world. He pulled himself up, lifting his body away from the cock which slid back through his depths. It was overwhelming to feel that head pull at his walls until it had reached the rim, only for him to drop back down. Gravity worked with him, letting him sit in a flop on Aydame's groin, the member slamming into him with enough force to leave his whole body juddering. He grunted, biting his bottom lip whilst he rode the stallion, pulling up once again and then falling back down. The motion became more fluid as he worked his hole open, the spent cum seeping around his rim and greasing the passage for smoother fucking. As he was stretched open, undoubtedly plugged by the horse's cock, he could feel his guts expanding to fit the size. Its thickness, its length, the feeling of its inches as it ground along his innards; it was all so powerful to his mind, addled in a haze of lust, he let his weight fall into Aydame's paws as he moved his hips up and down. The stallion held him in position affectionately, letting the wolf fuck himself upon his member and simply laying back to enjoy the feeling of a tight hole taking his meat. The ass clamped down upon him in such exquisite ways, leaving him with the knowledge that soon he'd be at another orgasm. Two in a row was quite the feat, as horses were usually just a one-shot species, but Stevarn evoked such desires from Aydame that he couldn't help but find the urge to go again. The wolf's cock was still spewing up the dregs of pre that came with arousal, his prostate being milked and stroked for all its worth by the horse's phenomenal dick, and whilst it limped slightly it did not give up the fight. His knot was firm enough to signify that the desire to cum was there, just unreachable as it was, even with the wolf whimpering and moaning loudly to the heavens.

Tiredness worked against them though, and whilst Stevarn would have liked to fuck himself to orgasm, he simply didn't have the strength. It took Aydame's intervention for him to do that; the horse took over when the wolf's fucks became weaker and moved across less of his length. He took a firm hold of his hips and began to hammer in the inches from his medial ring to his balls, gritting his teeth and flapping his lips, the tell that he was going to cum. His fingers dug into the flesh upon Stevarn's waist as he rode out the orgasm, roaring as loud as he could until he rammed home his cock as deep as he could, the balls slapping up against the wet cleft and pressing against the rim, his sheath matted with fluids. He came hard into the wolf's guts, eyes clenched shut as his body was racked with the sensations all over again. For Stevarn, it was the most intense feeling he'd ever had. His bowels were flooded, just as he had predicted, with hot seed - what felt like even greater volume than what he'd swallowed. The torrent washed into him like a powerful river, soaring deeper into his guts until he swore it was backtracking up his colon, errant bursts of seed spluttering about his stretched rim where the cock failed to keep a tight enough seal. He groaned and whined, groping at Aydame's body as much as his strength would allow, but there was no stopping it all. It was too much. As his guts filled up with more seed, the pressure against his prostate grew to an unbearable point, leaving him to thrust wildly into the air as Aydame held him close, straggling jets of wolf jizz shooting up across the horse's chest. The stallion just chuckled at the pitiful amount Stevarn mustered, but said nothing as the male collapsed against his chest, stroking the sweaty fur upon his back whilst they rested in the exhausted glow of their love.

~ ~ ~

When Stevarn awoke, he had no idaa how much time had passed. It still seemed to be early morning as far as he could tell or somewhere thereabouts, and his ass was no longer plugged by the horse's cock. Aydame snoozed softly beneath him, horse seed pooling about their legs as it leaked from his now closing ass. He pulled himself up as carefully as he could, his body protesting from the ache of its muscles, but Stevarn felt wrong for some reason. Not because he had committed the act of life with a male of an outsider species, but because something was out of place. He wiped his eyes to free them of grit or dirt that had gotten into them whilst napping, lifting himself from the horse's grasp to go wash off in the river's waters.

As he wiped down his body with splashes of ice cold water, he looked to the prone form of the stallion. His feelings for the male were now muddied, mixed between a desire to trust him and the realisation that he would soon have to part ways or risk consequences of some kind. His declaration from earlier was not forgotten though... Did he really love him? Or was that a ruse to keep his favour? Stevarn was horrendously confused, but the plan was nevertheless the same. Get to the God Star, and then deal with whatever was to follow. They mustn't have been far from where it crashed. They could make it there in good time once Aydame was awake.

But then again, so could the lions once they'd set off to hunt them.

Stevarn's eyes snapped open, wild and fearful as he hurriedly scanned the surrounding trees.

He had completely forgotten about the lions. How long had they been asleep? Could they have slept an entire day? The lions would surely be looking for them by now, they would have to move there and then.

The wolf crouched low to the ground, sniffing the air, but all he could smell was river water and male cum; his senses had been clouded by their sex. He would have to rely upon hearing and sight alone then. That didn't make him at all happy. He made once last sweep of the treeline before creeping his way towards Aydame. They had been right in the open; if scent alone hadn't alerted anyone to their presence, then it would have be near impossible to miss the two males slumbering right out in the middle of the clearing. It was a stroke of luck that they hadn't been caught yet, something which made Stevarn incredibly nervous. So far since his exile, he hadn't had a single stroke of good fortune. Why then was it suddenly starting now?

Before he even had a chance to cover half the distance back to the stallion, he saw the flitting colours of gold and yellow through the bushes that topped the verge of the clearing. Lions were rushing forward, sprinting out towards the sleeping horse. Stevarn was filled with horror, screaming at Aydame to wake up, scrambling to reach for any weaponry he could. His paw snatched up a loose rock which he hurled at the oncoming lions, counting only three of them. It struck one across the shoulder, but barely broke his stride. They were nearly upon the horse just as Stevarn was reaching their discarded gear. The wolf made a grab for his knife and Aydame's sword, yanking them from the ground and throwing up clumps of soil before hurling himself at the attackers. Though dazed, the horse wasn't awake, merely roused slightly in his sleep as the wolf continued to bellow at him.

One lion reached Aydame first.

Instantly the horse was awake as whilst its axe missed him, the lion's teeth sunk into his thigh. He roared in pain, paws snatching at the lion's throat and tearing him away. Flesh was torn away with him, a spray of blood soaking the grass around Aydame's side, and the lion was raised high into the air as the stallion stood up, snapping his neck within a single paw. His face looked murderous, his thigh weeping blood in a heavy flow - it looked serious, grotesque as the horse's previously unmarred skin was now ripped open and wet with shiny crimson blood. Stevarn didn't focus on that right now though. He did what he felt was more important and tossed the horse his blade, moving to swipe at one lion with a dagger, stabbing him under the ribcage and savagely twisting the blade as hard as he could to maximise the damage he did. The disembowled lion fell to the ground with a dull thud, unmoving as blood encircled him from his corpse. A female lion made a jump for Stevarn, but Aydame, whilst weakened, lashed at her, and almost took her paw clean off. She fought back, but with two against one she was outnumbered, her other two brothers now dead surrounding her. Stevarn caught his breath and hastily pulled together the last of their stuff whilst Aydame hacked off her head, executing her there and then.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" He sobbed to himself, realising now they were in far worse danger than before, "We shouldn't have done that... I shouldn't have let down my guard..."

Stevarn turned around, satchel prepared and ready to leave, only to see Aydame collapsing, dropping to one knee as he clutched at his thigh. His face was grimacing from the pain, blood welling up through his fingers though he did his best to clamp down on the flow. Rushing to his side, the wolf inspected the damage, petrified that it would be fatal. The wound was bad, the teeth having ripped out a good chunk of the horse's thigh; it had also nicked important blood vessels. Stevarn couldn't have known which without the proper teachings, those which are reserved for elders only. All he could tell was that this was his worst fears come true. He replaced Aydame's paws with his own, pushing down as hard as he could against the male's thighs. His fur became matted with blood, the liquid seeping out through his digits and over the backs of his paws. It did stem some of the loss, but by far not enough. He wanted to cry so badly. It was all going horribly wrong and now surely Aydame was going to die. Stevarn didn't want that. He didn't want Aydame to die.

"I'm sorry..." The horse said weakly, his face draining of its colour, but Stevarn refused. He _would not_let Aydame die.

He took the horse's loincloth and tied it as tightly as he could around his thigh, acting as a makeshift tourniquet, before fumbling with whatever medicine and bandages they had, thought it was pitiful what he was able to cobble together. The work would do, but it would not save Aydame's leg or stop the flow of blood permanently; it was merely a temporary fix. Stevarn sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his paw, careful to avoid getting blood smeared across his muzzle as he realised there was nothing more he could do. Without healing knowledge, they would have to seek out a shaman or a healer if Aydame was to live, something which clearly wasn't an option.

The stallion's weight listed to one side, falling onto his weakest leg, eyes closing.

"Aydame... please... stay with me!" Stevarn whimpered, trying to splutter past his crying as he tried to hold the horse up. Aydame just rested his head against the wolf's, his breathing slow and troubling, speaking in a soft, tender voice with the gravest of tones,

"We need... t'go... to the... God Star..."

Stevarn could only give a whimpered nod through the tears that streaked his face.