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Chapter 2: To Shape the Wind

He woke up to the same suave scent. Her pale yellow coat filled his blurry vision, and her nostrils blew hot air across his naked chest.

Magnus rolled away from her embrace and onto his side of the bed. Her arms slid off his torso, and one of her feet rested against his ankles, her pads hot and overly smooth. Magnus threw his blanket on top of her, groaned and blinked to clear the morning haze from his eyes. Faint light trickled through the slant of the roof, barely enough to dispel the gloom.

He managed to pull up his leggings just as Pard growled, moaned and stretched under the sheets. Her claws poked out, and her wide yawn revealed thick, glistening fangs. Her bleary eyes fell on him, and her purr returned.

"Slept well?" Magnus asked before she had the chance to say something.

"Bed so soft. Muscles no longer stiff and sore. Thank you, Magnuss."

"You deserve better than whatever the innkeeper gives you. You deserve--"

"You," she cut in, then shook her head over a thin mrowl that escaped her muzzle, "Wrong word. Meant an Owner like you, kind, who talks, and has name."

Magnus slipped into his shirt, winced when a wet, cold patch connected with his skin, and said, "It shouldn't be like this. There should be no owners, no slaves, no differences between human or Zharyi. We speak the same tongue and feel the same way."

Pard chuffed. "Warrior Scholar want change, yet never happens. I pleased to be Pard, to get meet Magnuus, to share bodies, to trust him enough to let him spill seed inside me."

Magnus licked his lips. Soft tingles slithered along his spine and welled within his stomach. His heart skipped a beat, and his hands froze on the buttons of his shirt. He turned his head towards her, stretching his numb lips into a smile so broad Pard beamed.

"The pleasure is mine, Pard. Always." He strapped on his jerkin, tied his scabbard and satchel to his belt and turned to face the door. "Get ready while I get supplies for the road."

She growled her agreement.

Once the door slammed behind, Magnus took a deep breath. His stomach churned, and his limbs still shivered slightly at the memory of what transpired the previous night. It was like the innkeeper said; he carried her upstairs so that he could mate her.

"No, it's not only that," Magnus said to himself as he thrust his tasseled hair back. "I wanted to show her that I'm different, that humans can be different. The mating was just--it just happened."

No reason felt strong enough to explain his great lust for a Zharyi who just had her first heat. She didn't think straight, so he should have been the one to explain her the reason of taking a mate for life, to share her body with him only. Instead, he did what the innkeeper told him to do: mate her.

"I--I don't--I'm not--I shouldn't--" he trailed off, cupped his face in his palms and released his burdening sigh. Whatever happened, happened. They both needed it. They both wanted it. They both felt good by going through with it. That's all that mattered.

Magnus shrugged his shoulders and clambered down the steps. The innkeeper waved a burly hand at him while the other ran a piece of dirty cloth across the oblong table where the wizards sat the night before.

"When do you leave?"

"As soon as you get me ready."

The innkeeper scoffed. "What, can't you get ready on your own? I'm busy cleaning the puke of the wizards you helped get drunk." He shook his head and began wiping faster. "That's one damn lousy investment, just like the cat." His head spun to face Magnus. "You fucked her at least? Cunt's as tight as they come, and she's always wet down there."

"That's none of your business," Magnus said. "Your business is to do what the people with the coins say, and I happen to have a couple of those."

The innkeeper sneered at him and returned to his activity. "Wait your fucking turn, boy."

"I'd prefer not to."

"The fuck cares what you prefer. I wanted a male Zharyi tracker and instead they gave me a wet, good for nothing cunt," the innkeeper rasped.

"You should care," Magnus said, and emphasized it with the hiss of metal against the leather scabbard.

The innkeeper let go of his cloth and regarded him with stark, brown eyes. "Fine. I care. Tell me what you need and make it worth it."

"Four water skins, two wine skins, and some of the best supplies you have. Not the stale dung from yesterday."

The innkeeper leered. "You know how to make your demands, lordling. The others soiled their breeches when I barked at them. You let your sword talk instead, and got a big enough pouch to back it up. How old are you?"

"Twenty," Magnus pressed his words.

"Mhm," the innkeeper grunted. "You better leave your pouch here then. The bears and direwolves and dragons who will end you during your pleasant sleep can't spend it. Heh heh."

Magnus gritted his teeth at the mentioning of that beast. If the innkeeper knew it, then the whole of Willowveil knew it. His quest lived on borrowed time.

The innkeeper retreated into the kitchen, and by the time he returned with two deerskin knapsacks, Pard was already at the counter to pick them up. Magnus shook his head, grabbed one and swung it across his left shoulder. Pard mirrored him.

"Heh," the innkeeper chuckled. "So you did fuck my kitten. First she takes your cock, then she takes your knapsack. You've done well for yourself, lordling."

Magnus grabbed her free paw and led her out, away from his booming laughter. "People like him are too stupid to listen to. We turn our backs to what they say and keep moving."

Her paw clenched tighter around his. "He stupid, but that all that is bad about Larn. He never beat, or let others beat Pard. Other Zharyi, I hear they get beat, yet he protect, even during heat."

Magnus released her paw and patted her on the shoulder. A lumberjack with an axe propped atop his shoulder stopped to gawk, yet Magnus' glare sent him on his way. "That doesn't make him a good person."

"No, but him, better than others. Magnuss best, though."

Magnus chuckled and rubbed the taut muscle underneath the layer of fur. "You flatterer. Say what you want about me, but that is not going to stop me from carrying my burden."

She growled and widened her eyes at that. "Pard's burden too. She mate to Magnus. She shares his weight."

Magnus' cheeks reddened in an instant. He preferred to think that she referred to what happened last night while he rounded Pard to grab her knapsack. She tugged at it several times before Magnus' persistent gaze cut through her resolve. She turned her ears sideways, as if upset.

"We will share the weight, Pard. But first, let's leave Willowveil." He grabbed her paw, and squeezed it hard enough to reignite Pard's purr.

He fell in at her side, walking besides her in spite of the curious glances the people threw him. To them, it seemed abnormal for the human to carry his belonging and walk side by side with a slave--and a Zharyi at that, the lowest of the low.

The sun's wan light of late dawn bore down upon them. It made Magnus squint, but not due to its intensity. Those three wizards and their witch already had a head start. More followers as well, if Willowveil had mercenaries and bands of thugs scouring for opportunities such as their quest to find one of the few dragons who still lived out there, in the mountains.

Magnus spotted no such thugs or mercenaries that belonged to their respective guilds. Only rough people with rougher features. None spared him a glance, yet they all stared at Pard, spat and swore at her, calling her demeaning names that Pard didn't even flick her ears at. Magnus, on the other hand, had only to draw his sword, and then, they'd notice him and look the other way.

Blessedly, the people lessened in numbers with each turn Magnus and Pard took upon the rising slopes of Willowveil. As soon as the road thinned to a pathway, the people vanished, and so did Pard's muffled growl.

Once alone with him, she purred, flicked her tail with renewed vigor and glanced at him with playful eyes.

Magnus sighed. "That sweet gaze won't lessen my resolve, dear Pard."

She shook her head. "Is not that. Pard respect Magnus, though she not understand why he doesn't share weight, like mates do. You have question in mind. Know because of broad steps and red cheeks."

"It's because you keep calling me your mate," he said, trying to keep his simmering emotions from slipping into his voice. "I'm--I'm not a Zharyi."

"Magnus better than any Zharyi." Pard inched closer to Magnus and rested her head against his shoulder, glancing at him with her gorgeous, hazel eyes. "Magnus taught Pard to love, to mate. Pard forever grateful to Magnus."

Magnus' heart leapt in his chest. That escalated too fast for comfort, and his stupid smirk only served to fuel Pard's pleasant purr a pitch higher. He turned to face her, but she licked his nose instead and giggled.

"Humans get red too fast. Wait too long for mates. Do not live life as they should." She grabbed Magnus' hand between her paws and squeezed him harder than he thought was possible for such frail arms.

"Zharyi know how fickle life is. One day, work for a master. The next, sold to another. Pard saw Zharyi take mates, grow breasts from their seed, then banished into the wilds because master didn't want kittens."

She brought his hand up to her muzzle and licked him from the top of his fingers all the way to his wrist. Magnus flinched at the touch of the soft barbs spread along her tongue, but allowed Pard to lick and purr and smile at him more often than he deserved.

"That will come to an end when we find the dragon, Pard. I--" he stopped right before he spilled the nature of his quest to her. "I'll make it happen. I made promise, did I not?"

"Magnus can't care for all Zharyi. Is enough if he mate to Pard and shares bodies again with her."

Magnus increased his pace, trying to evade the topic, and so did she. Unlike him, she seemed to flow onto her paws, regardless of the thick mud covering her toes.

"Isn't it uncomfortable, to walk around barefooted?" Magnus tried to change the topic.

Her ears perked and her lips shivered slightly in confusion. "Why uncomfortable? Paws made for walk, so Pard walks."

Magnus swallowed emptily at the sheer speed with which she deflected his topic. "What about the shawl you wore?"

"Only in master's presence. Said Pard ugly, so Pard had to conceal herself."

"Everything is beautiful about you, Pard. Each rosette, each whisker, each strand of fur."

Her purr flared. "That why Pard loves Magnus. Always so kind, always makes her happy."

"Um, thanks. Glad you think so," Magnus mumbled. His cheeks seared, and his mind whirled with the various possibilities of what love meant to her. Zharyi working under an Owner's employ had little regard for monogamy and tended to get too affectionate, too fast.

Just like Pard.

The leopardess drew closer to him, and closer, until her paw wrapped around his wrist and her stubby fingers trailed along his palm. "Magnuss good to me, so I good to Magnuss. Like mates should be."

She kept using that word!

"That's how it should be. No Owners, no Benefactors. I'm good to you, and you're good to me. That's what mutual respect implies."

She trilled at that and squeezed his hand tighter. "Is strange life, that you speak of, but sounds beautiful."

"It's freedom," Magnus said as he worked out of her grip.

"But, if had freedom, would not have been in Willowveil anymore, and could not meet Magnuus." Her tail wrapped around his legs as she regarded him with a fondness reserved for him alone. "That what life intended for Pard. To be slave to Larn, long enough to allow her to meet Magnus. Is good plan from life, yes?"

Magnus chuckled at her optimism. A slave beneath the heel of a human, and she still clung onto the only positive aspect of her life: him. She voiced arguments to enrich her current condition, to appear happy with the sudden turn of events, regardless of Larn's binding contract with Magnus.

You only have me for a fortnight, kitten, Magnus thought, yet he smiled and preferred to play her game.

She had to cope somehow. They all had, until the Order of the Five Storms swept away the injustice and put things back into place. To help that happen, Magnus had to increase his pace, lay a hand on top of her head, and scratch her between the ears until her purr drowned her words and kept him focused on the task at hand.

She basked in his caress, tilting her head sideways and inching closer to him until her arm touched his. Magnus tried to pull away, but her fingers wrapped tight around his wrist and her muzzle darted forward. Her tongue flicked between her canines and slid across his cheek, smooth at the tip and barbed along its length.

Magnus chuckled. She mrowled softly and darted her tongue for a second stroke before Magnus blocked her muzzle with his other hand. She licked across his palm's length, then nibbled at his fingers.

"Let's just--let's focus on tracking," Magnus stammered.

She nodded, and her purr faded to a deep rumble. "Is easy to track. No focus needed. Look at foot marks."

Magnus followed her gaze and clenched his jaws at the sheer number of tracks.

Pard chuckled. "You suddenly stiff as statue. Most is old. Deep ones new." She pointed at them with a stubby digit, too fast for Magnus to follow. It was so many of them as well. More than just seven sets.

"Is thirteen now, up from seven," Pard's mellow voice came. "The wizards we track increased in number, hired companions for the hunt."

"Any lingering scents?"

She flared her nostrils and shook her head. "Vanished. But we fast, for we two and they many." She strode up the slant with surprising dexterity. Her paw marks, unlike Magnus' boot shaped ones, were thin and barely noticeable over the furrows of the ground. Magnus set his weight on his toes to mirror her technique, but scrambled for balance as soon as he tiptoed in the thick mud.

Pard laughed from the crest of the hill. "No try that. Takes practice and free paws." She shook her foot for emphasis, and the mud slid off her soggy pads effortlessly.

Magnus accepted her outstretched hand and grunted as he pulled himself up the incline. Pines and fir trees thickened ahead while the pathway narrowed to a mere game trail.

"I like my boots well enough," he said through his ragged breathing. "Tried walking barefooted through a forest once."

"And?" Pard said, the faintest trace of a smile marring the corners of her muzzle.

"Didn't make it very far because of the pine needles. And if it wasn't the pine needles, the fallen branches stung like you don't know what."

Pard cackled at his expense, stomping her feet and swishing her tail in broad arcs. "Ground itself defeats Magnus. Is shameful to him, the strong warrior scholar."

Magnus looked sideways to hide his own budding smile. "It is, isn't it? But that's why boots were invented, to keep me from tarnishing my honor further."

"Pah," Pard snorted. "Burden."

Magnus raised his eyebrows. "You call them such, but it's my feet that are warm and cozy while yours are freezing."

"Hah. Magnus couldn't be so wrong. Touch." She lifted her foot and curled it inwards.

Magnus rolled his eyes and threw her a look of disbelief. "It's dirty."

"That did not stop Magnus from touching paws last night," she said. "Now touch. Or Magnus afraid he wrong?"

"Pretty sure I'm not, else I would just walk around like you, wearing nothing but a loincloth."

"A feast for Pard's eyes," she said, and shook her paw for emphasis.

Magnus crouched in front of her lifted paw and grabbed it, rubbing her meaty pads with the tips of his fingers. They radiated warmth, more intense than his own temperature. How curious.

"Now Magnus knows. Paws no cold unless Pard cold, and Pard only cold during wet coat." Her fur bristled and her hackles raised when Magnus thrust a finger into the sensitive crevice between her pads. It tickled something fierce, and Magnus couldn't hide his amusement as Pard flexed her toes and shook her paw, if only to get away from his devilish finger.

He stumbled back, still laughing over Pard's scornful growls. "You laughed at my story, so expect me to laugh at yours when I tickle you when we lay camp."

"Pard agile. You only touch paws because Pard lets you, sluggish human."

"I will believe that when we make camp," he added as he took in their surroundings. Harmonious bird song filled the canopies of the trees, increasing in intensity with each gust of wind that carried the fresh, dewy scent of the mountain towards them.

Magnus shifted the knapsacks from one shoulder to the other, groaning as his muscles throbbed in the biting wind, and took a step forward when his burden lightened.

Hmm, I'm getting used to this, he thought, then turned his head around to share his discovery with Pard, only to find Pard's paws supporting his knapsacks.

"I can handle them just fine. I'm just a bit sore, is all."

"Sore no good." She ripped the tethers of both the knapsacks from his frail grip and slung them across her shoulders. "Now you lighter, but still can't match my pace."

Magnus raised his arms in protest, and sighed when she darted forward, giggling. He strode after her, keeping to the hardened side of the pathway while she ran through the thick mud without as much as a squelch.

He shouted for his knapsacks back at first. Then he grumbled when he had to bend and swat at the bothersome branches while keeping up with her. Spider cobwebs stuck to every part of him, and no matter how he flailed his limbs to test for the sticky, invisible strings, they always found him. Pard stopped often, glancing at him with sparkling, hazel eyes, wide and warm. He favored her a forced smile, balled his hands into fists, and trudged forward.

The ground shifted to a smooth, uneven incline ahead.

"Give me a knapsack," Magnus said. "You can't possibly climb that with all that weight slowing you down."

Pard growled her challenge at him and stepped forward. She tore deep gashes into the soft soil with her claws, and her toes flexed to their limits as she took on the incline. Magnus kept to the parts littered with leaves, using the trees for leverage. For the last step, he had to grip Pard's outstretched paw, and hoisted himself up with a heave.

"Is Magnus who slows me down," she said, her tone bright and joyous. "That why Pard carries weight. To help Magnus keep up with her."

"I thought you said mates share their burden," Magnus said.

"Real burden," Pard shot. "Not some water and food. Is better if I carry it. Pard carried prey heavier than her through the mountain." Her features hardened, and her smile faded. "Is hard ground, from now on. Mountain ahead harder still. If we track, we need speed, else rains wash away tracks."

Magnus groaned. His knees buckled from the repeated climbing and his thighs shivered and throbbed. "We can rest if you'd like."

Her ears perked. "We rest, we lose them. Meadow after thicket, gully after meadow, river after gully, broad and big. They cross, I lose track." Her nostrils twitched, and her tongue darted across her whiskers. If her breath sagged, Magnus couldn't hear it over her mellow purr.

He squinted against the dapples of light. Everything faded to a deep brown ahead. No sign of the meadow, no visible boot tracks. Only trees, and their fallen cones and needles.

"We press on," Magnus decided.

And so they did, until the sun hardened to a blazing white and Magnus sweltered in his shirt and jerkin. He removed the latter and wrapped it around his arm. The slopes steadied, yet each step stung more than the last. Pard maintained her pace, purring and swaying with fluid grace amidst the erect trunks of the trees. By the five elements, did she ever tire?

Magnus didn't have the chance to find out. He whistled at her to stop when the forest began to thin, and motioned towards a hollow surrounded by trees. He sat cross legged opposite to Pard, stretched out a hand for one of the knapsacks, and fumbled through it. Jerky, cheese, tough bread, rope, and the skins he asked for. Magnus furrowed his brow and dug under the pile of food and drink. Was that all?!

"He scammed us."

Pard already sat on her rump, loin cloth sprawled along her thighs and her muzzle stuffed with jerky and bread. She growled and stiffened her tail, but Magnus waved it off with one hand and grabbed a piece of jerky with the other. "It doesn't matter. Trifles, anyway. We don't need the help of that niggardly bastard to find that dragon."

She swallowed hard and regarded him with narrow eyes. "Larn did what?" She sprawled her hands in confusion. "Word foreign."

Magnus handed her a wineskin. At least that's what he assumed it was, unless Larn filled it with water and put a dark cork on it. She wove it between her fingers, tilting her head this way and that.

"Is doe skin. Can smell it."

"What about its contents?"

She mewled, smiled, and took a hearty gulp before her muzzle scrunched and her eyes squeezed shut. A thin growl erupted from her throat as her toes spread in reflex.

"Burns," she mumbled under the terse tongue strokes across her muzzle.

Magnus took it from her limp paws, chugged, and gasped. His breath cut off and stars speckled his vision. So rich! So smooth! Yet so strong! Its fiery touch slithered through Magnus' throat and dispersed through his chest.

"That's...that's better than I expected," he rasped, swaying from one side to the other due to its potency.

"Better? It burns," she said between her broad licks. "It pains. How can pain be good?"

"The pain lessens with each gulp you take. That's what makes drinking--well, drinking." He proffered the wine skin, but she shook her head. Her hackles stood on edge and her tail tip twitched with renewed vigor.

"Humans strange. Prefer numb senses. Why?"

Magnus shrugged his shoulders and took a second swig. It muffled the dry taste of jerky and made the tough bread bearable. "Many reasons. First is, they're stupid."

"And second?"

"They're stupid."

Pard's purr flared. "And you? Magnus drinks too."

He smiled at that. "In moderation, and only to muffle the taste of tasteless meal."

"Food is good. Is wine that bad." Her foot inched closer to his shin, and Magnus pulled away when her pads pressed against his leggings.

Her tail jerked, and her toes curled around the ground instead. "What is dragon? Heard Magnus mention it, but never asked."

"A predator," Magnus replied before taking another bite of jerky.

"How big?"

He chewed on the stringy meat and held up his hand to contain Pard's big, hazel eyes. The less she knew, the better."Bigger than us, or short enough to reach my waist. Hard to say when I have never seen one."

She placed her food on top of the knapsack and wrapped her arms around her slender torso. "Dragons gone, like direwolves?"

Magnus nodded, and Pard cocked her head. "How it look?"

"Like Salamanders, but with wings sprouting from their backs, wicked talons on their feet, and long, sinuous necks."

Pard grabbed her foot and urged her claws out of their sheath by squeezing her toes. Magnus swallowed hard and filled his mouth with cheese and hard bread while she inspected her claws. They were as long and thick as his palm, and sharp enough to eviscerate a human.

"Have you used them?"

She perked up. "The paws? Pard walks on them, silly Magnus."

"No, your claws."

Pard let go of her foot and brought her knees tight against her chest. "Often. To climb. To grip. For hunt. Zharyi have claws for a reason, eh?"

"What did you hunt?"

"Rabbits, squirrels, boar. What Larn needs, I hunt and carry it back to his inn."

Magnus took another gulp of sour red, winced at its sting, and wiped the ruddy snakes dribbling down the stubble on his chin. "You're a good hunter, and a skilled tracker. Thank you for joining me."

Her lips twitched and spread into a thin, uncertain smile. "Pard is--is Pard's great honor to be with Magnus."

Magnus' heart fluttered at her words, at the rapid twitches of her tail. Her eyes bore into his, and Magnus released a chuckle and smiled. "Honor's all but forgotten in Endoria. The group we track is..." he trailed off. His words rang crisp and clear within his mind, yet his lips suddenly turned numb under their weight.

"Dead," Pard hissed. "You want them dead. That why you want to know of Pard's claws, of Pard's hunting prowess. Magnus wants Pard to know that he wants wizards killed"

Cheese stuck in Magnus' throat, and he coughed twice before rasping a muffled "Yes."

Her tongue flicked across her whiskers, and her eyes narrowed for a brief moment before she shifted onto her feet. Magnus gathered his knees close to his chest. His hand inched towards his short sword out of its own accord.

Magnus paled at what his instincts urged him to do, and bit his lip when Pard's purr burst in her throat. She settled next to him, wrapped an arm across his shoulders and dug her muzzle into his neck. Magnus winced at its cold, clammy touch before her warm tongue made his skin prickle.

"What Magnus wants, Pard does," she whispered. "Many wizard come, but none good, like Magnus. All vile, all seeking to kill. That why no more dragons, or direwolves. Because of wizards."

"I'm not a wizard," Magnuss corrected.

Her paw slipped into his knapsack and darted away from his grasp. "This has to be spell book. Saw enough books, yet none thick and heavy like this."

"Books are small, flimsy. That's a tome bound in crocolisk skin, treated with various oils that you never heard of," Magnus said, and swayed a finger at her, "And I'm a scholar. Not a wizard. A warrior scholar. You said it yourself."

"And you said you huntsman," she retorted.

"I'm what I need to be, Pard." He reached forward to grab the tome from her paw and stuffed it back into his dark leather satchel. "Same as you."

She shook her head. "I Pard. Always Pard."

"And you never wanted to be more than just a Pard under the heel of a human?"

Her clutch tightened around his shoulder as she pulled him closer to her breast. Magnus stiffened, yet her strength overpowered his. His face sank into the thick, silky fur of her neck, and a soft, sweet fragrance filled his nostrils. She smelled of pine needles, and grass, and rain. Of the whole forest! It soothed his surging blood and his churning stomach, but not the thoughts circling through his mind.

She called him a wizard. If the word slipped from her muzzle around Larn or any other wretch...

I'll be long gone by the time that happens, he reassured himself.

"You red and warm again," she cooed.

"Because of the wine."

"Is not. Neck throbs--"

"It is. It's an exquisite sour red with a very stingy bite that you refused to drink." He scratched her behind an ear, scrambled to his feet and emptied half a water skin before handling it to her. "Drink your fill and rest a bit. We will get going as soon as the food settles in our belly."

She drank while staring at him. Magnus turned to his knapsack, stuffed the remaining food inside, and tied it at the mouth. He pushed it away before resting on his back, his torso propped on his elbows so that he could face Pard.

"Can already go. No need for rest," she said while pacing around.

"Indulge me."

That was all it took for Pard to settle onto her back, her feet swaying in unison with her tail. Magnus rolled onto his rump, switched onto his fours, and crawled closer to her. Then, he sat cross legged, grabbed one of her feet, placed it into his lap and began fondling her toes.

"Mrrrr," Pard's purr came as her toes spread in pure joy. Mud stuck to her pads, yet Magnus still gave her a thorough rub, regardless of the grime. Her paws helped him get this far, and Magnus wanted to help Pard relax before the journey ahead.

Her other paw joined his lap, her toes flexing, begging him to attend to it. Magnus chuckled and switched his attention to it, groping at her central pad with the tips of his fingers while using his thumbs to stroke her toes.

"Enjoying yourself?" Magnus asked, but Pard didn't answer. She had her eyes closed, her muzzle half opened, her tongue thrusting between her fangs with each breath she took. "I'll take that as a yes."

Magnus applied more pressure upon her pads, stroking her with harder, faster strokes, flaring Pard's purr to a graver tone. Her toes curled inwards from the sheer delight of his ministrations, but he made sure to fondle each of them in turn and make Pard shake her paws when her pads became overly sensitive to his touch.

She didn't ask him to stop, however, and her purr retained its deep, pleasant touch. One of her hands slid down her belly, across her loincloth. Claws poked out from the tips of her fingers, hooking around the seams of her leather coverings. They found the bit of thin rope that fastened it together, and in a swift motion, unraveled it.

Magnus' heart skipped a beat as Pard exposed herself to him. His cock lurched within the tight confines of his leggings at the sight of her wet, slightly swollen pink slit, and he barely contained his gasp of excitement.

Pard's eyes cracked open, sparkling with the same yearning Magnus spotted last night.

"Pard can't rest. Is restless again, because of heat." Her hand slithered over to her groin, and one of her fingers sank into her depths with a slow, deliberate movement that brought furrows upon Magnus' brows from the squelch that followed. The padded underside of her finger glistened with her arousal when she brought it out, even dripped with it.

"Magnus wants to mate?"

Her feet shifted, and her toes latched onto his belt, claws pulling at it with hard, persistent strokes. Magnus grabbed her feet in each hand and pushed her away, until Pard's eyes opened to their earnest and she blinked several times to wash away the haze of lust.

"Can use paw to soothe heat, if Magnus does not want to mate. Is Pard's fault, that Pard in heat. Can use fingers, like before Magnus mated Pard."

"I'll mate," Magnus croaked, faster than he would have liked. "Do not use your fingers. They have claws, and you can--all I'm saying is that mistakes can happen."

He babbled again, just like he did the night before. As if on cue, his heart resumed its fierce pounding, his temples pulsated with renewed vigor, and his throat turned as dry as a desert. He had mated Pard, even released his essence inside her. And yet, before her inquisitive gaze, Magnus felt small, insignificant, incapable of satisfying her to her full extent. He did release his passion quite fast the previous night...

Pard didn't wait for his musings. Her feet were all over him, toes trying to unlace his leggings and remove the clasp of his belt. Magnus stumbled back, away from her, and gathered his limbs underneath him. Once he got onto his feet, he turned his back to Pard while working on removing his extra coverings.

"Pard already saw Magnus," she purred. "His well shaped body, his thick rod above his dangling pouch, covered by thick bush. No reason for Magnus to turn around, not from Pard."

Magnus' cheeks simmered. He barely made it out of his shirt, and his frame already shivered from the mixture of both fear and excitement.

"Magnus ashamed that Pard loves him? That he shared body with Zharyi?"

"No," he rasped. "Never."

"Magnus turns around then, for Pard's pleasure?"

"As soon as I--give me a moment to get out of these leggings."

Magnus counted his pounding heart beats. Fifteen. That's how long it took him to slide his leather coverings down to his ankles, to get his throbbing shaft out of that tight, leathery prison. He took a quick glimpse at his thick meat, beribboned with veins, and his stomach lurched at the prospect of turning around for Pard's pleasure, like she called it.

I'm about to mate with her, for crying out loud, Magnus thought, and whirled on his toes to make it quick and painless.

Pard licked her muzzle in anticipation of what was to come. "Mrowl, wind picks up. Share body with Pard, so that you share Pard's heat as well."

She spread open her thighs invitingly, presenting him with the most erotic of sights he had ever seen. Her lips kissed each other in a tight embrace, a narrow, pink slit parting the soaked fur of her groin. They shivered and twitched with want, and arousal fled through her narrow crevice, oozing onto the ground in the form of slimy strings.

Magnus walked up to her, then dropped onto his fours once her arms spread to receive him. She carried him over her chest, and locked her legs across his rump, applying enough pressure to direct him into her tunnel.

Too fast, Magnus thought as Pard leaned onto her back, dragging him down with her. Much too fast.

With the weight of her legs to encourage his loins to push forward, Magnus had no choice but to hug Pard, bury his face into her chest, and hold onto her for dear life as his tip connected with her overly warm and fleshy lips. He groaned at the lewd contact, and his cock rocked with terse swings, his tip brushing against Pard's lips hard enough to make her purr in delight.

Pard's feet rested on top of his heels, her toes kneading at him with renewed vigor while her tail tickled his sack. Magnus chuckled, shuddered, and pushed his hips forward in a sudden, jerking motion, parting Pard's lips and sinking his shaft inside her sweltering depths up to his balls.

Pard cried out from the sudden penetration, her roar making Magnus' skin acquire goose bumps. He drew out of her, his breath ragged from the toll of his first, blissful stroke, his hair disheveled and his lips trembling. Pard's purr soothed his inner turmoil, and her encouraging licks across his neck urged him to mate her, to flare her growls a pitch higher.

His heart fluttered in his chest as he sought refuge into her warm depths once again. Pard's toes flexed, and she nibbled softly on his neck as she whined her delight straight into his ear. Her whiskers twitched in unison with the ripples racing across her muscular insides, tickling Magnus' cheeks enough to urge him to clamp his mouth shut in order to contain his laughter.

Not that he could, when Pard's hips began rocking back and forth in soft, undulating patterns over his slow, steady strokes. Magnus plunged his thick shaft in and out of her, gritting his teeth over the lewd squelching sounds escaping her parted lips. Pard's tail flicked every now and then, and increasingly harsher hisses crept out of her muzzle as the intensity of her pleasure increased. She squeezed Magnus harder and harder with each stroke, already milking him for all his worth. Magnus tried to slow down, to match Pard's flowing movements, but fiery tendrils already raced through his stiffness, and the sudden, overwhelming pressure that begged for release began welling within his groin. His balls tensed up, his cock lurched within Pard, and his fingers clutched fistfuls of soft, leopard fur. He couldn't hold on. By the five elements, he wouldn't last.

Magnus picked up his strokes, his eyes squeezed shut, his brow furrowed in concentration. He began thrusting in and out of Pard with abandon. Short, fast strokes, meant to take her over the edge. Her fluids drenched her inner sanctuary, but that milking motion of hers didn't pick up. It remained soft and steady, with no signs of the rough shudders that heralded her release.

"I--I can't last Pard," Magnus huffed. "I'm getting close."

"Cum if you have to," Pard's strained voice came. Her lips twitched as the snarl that announced her great pleasure bloomed. Just not fast enough.

"I'm--I don't--not without you."

"Cum, Magnus. Let go."

"I--I don't--"

His cock hardened inside Pard, and his throbs ended abruptly for the short, blissful span before his impending release. Magnus thrust inside Pard, faster and harder. His ears rang from the might of his looming orgasm, and every fiber in his body trembled in sheer ecstasy.

"Cum inside. Don't hold back. Cum inside Pard."

Her words didn't help one bit. Magnus lodged himself inside her, arched his back, thrust his head back and growled his lust before he broke loose inside her. His teeth grinded against each other, and soft, sporadic moans crept through Magnus' clenched teeth as he filled Pard to the brim with his seed. Her soft, milking motion rubbed off the last of his spurts out of Magnus, leaving him drained and devoid of strength.

He collapsed upon her chest, heaving with the toll of mating, his eyebrows arched into a deep frown. He came too fast...again! To make it worse, Pard's hands cupped his head while her tongue danced all over his face, wiping out the traces of sweat slithering down his brow.

She bumped her nose with his, licked him across the lips, then drew back a short distance from him. "Magnus can cum when he wants. No ask Pard. Just cum. Is what mating is."

"No, not before you have your great moment of pleasure as well," Magnus said, his voice shuddering with doubt, or fear, or both. Pard was in heat. She craved for release--something that Magnus failed to deliver.

Pard didn't answer. She simply clutched him to her chest, purring louder than ever. "Nothing feels better than Magnus inside Pard. Is enough if Magnus cums for Pard."

He didn't believe that. He refused to believe that. In one swift motion, Magnus pulled out of Pard, making her gasp from the sudden action. Then, he pressed three fingers together and slid them inside her up to his knuckles, forcing her to take a deep breath.

Her eyes widened, and she released a hissing growl when Magnus spread his fingers within her tight confines. She clamped down around him immediately, trying to hold him still, but Magnus pushed further inside her, urging her claws to protract from all four limbs as Pard yowled her release.

Her climax splashed against Magnus' fingers like a raging tide, basking his hand with rich, slimy feline goo. Spasms rippled through her delicate tunnel, increasing in intensity with each gush of feline cum. Pard's claws dug into the ground for leverage while her frame tensed and shook under the might of her release. Her yowl broke down into sporadic whimpers, which lessened into a mellow purr as the kneading motion around Magnus' knuckles lessened. He remained inside Pard for long enough for her tremors to subside, staring into her hazel eyes, a strained smile spread across his face.

"Mates take care of each other," he blurted out. "That's what I intend to do."

She nodded, then poked out her tongue to lick at his chin with slow, lethargic strokes.

"The thing you did...with your paw...Pard never felt so good."

Magnus leaned forward to plant a kiss upon her beautiful muzzle. "The pleasure is mutual."

They spoke no more. They didn't have to, not when their ragged breaths bespoke of the delight they took into sharing their bodies. Magnus stroke her cheek with two fingers, listening to her mellow purr while Pard's tongue hovered across his chest and neck. Her pussy still shuddered with want, her muscles rippling around him in a constant, rocking motion.

Magnus pulled his fingers out of her, and gasped when their combined juices leaked from her depths in his wake. Pard growled faintly, and kicked her paws at the tightness that fled from her sanctuary. She swung her tail across her messy privates to cover herself, then resumed licking Magnus with the same broad, affectionate tongue strokes he grew to love.

"Do you mind if I shift on my side?" Magnus asked, then kissed her to have his request better received.

"Depends," Pard mewled. "Pard's fur better than any blanket. Why Magnus shift?"

His thighs turned numb and his knees stiffened from the weight exerted upon them. "It's my knees. The ground is not nearly as soft as your coat."

He rolled onto his side, his head rested against an upraised fist to allow him to gauge her. How could a creature so beautiful be so lonely? Only a day passed, and Magnus' skin still acquired the customary goose bumps whenever Pard called him her mate.

"What burdens Magnus' mind?" Pard inquired while her gaze absorbed his features. She started with his head, then switched to his member, urging Magnus to slide a hand over it to cover his exposed parts.

"Not have to cover. Pard doesn't cover herself. Why does Magnus?"

She trudged closer to him. The fresh scent of her coat flooded Magnus' nostrils, soothing his worries, urging him to grab Pard's head and ease her onto his muscular chest.

"I'm still--I'm still not used to this," he admitted. "You are my first mate, my first love."

She chuffed at that and kissed one of his pecks. "Magnus good lover. Magnus great lover. Mates Pard like Zharyi, only better."

"You got that right. I certainly cum as fast as a Zharyi."

She perked up her head to look into his eyes, her muzzle twitching with a hint of irriation. "Magnus shouldn't be concerned about how fast he cums. Male cums when he cums. All mate can do, is take seed. Is mate's duty."

Magnus wanted to believe that, more than anything, yet his human heritage roared within his mind, making his cheeks redden with embarrassment at being one of those weakling that came in mere strokes.

The touch of her tongue across his lips drew him out of his reverie.

"Magnus agrees? Is stupid, for humans to take hour to cum. Is not what mating is about."

"And what does a mating imply in your views, Pard?" Magnus asked as he ran his fingers through the thick fur of her neck.

"Hah, is simple. If male cums fast, is because he loves mate very much."

Magnus chuckled, even though his mirth confused Pard. "Not laugh. Is true. Pard overwhelmed with joy that Magnus cums fast. Means he loves Pard very much."

Did he? Magnus didn't know what to think. In fact, he didn't know anything. Why he hunted a dragon for a bunch of people he barely knew, why he took his tracker as his mate. Instead of mincing his brain over this, Magnus chose to drag Pard down, to urge her to lie on top of him while he fondled her ears between his fingers.

"We should get going," he murmured.

"We should," Pard agreed.

Her weight shifted off him, and the gusts of early autumn chilled Magnus' bare body in Pard's absence. Shivers crept through his frame, barely noticeable, yet still irritating as he moved over to his pile of clothes. He changed Pard a few glances while he dressed up, smiling, and nibbling on his lower lip. His seed dribbled from her lips when she stood upright, but Pard didn't seem to mind. She tied her loincloth with great nonchalance, grabbed the knapsack nearest to her before strolling in Magnus' direction.

"I'll have this one Pard," he said as he twisted his neck towards her. She still approached him, snaked a paw towards his knapsack, and planted a curt kiss upon his cheek as she hurled it across a shoulder.

"Pard climbed mountain with this weight, and Magnus still doubt her?"

"It's not that I doubt you. It's just that--I do feel quite useless, walking around with nothing but my sword and satchel to drag me down, " Magnus stammered. His cheeks seethed, his temples pounded, and his lips still itched from the sudden kiss. Five hells, that felt good.

"Magnus slows us down even more with weight. Even more of a burden." Her purr flared to a deep pitch, and her muzzle shuddered with the effort to contain a half smile.

"Even so, I'll still have that one. Be reasonable, Pard," Magnus said. He wiped his mouth, licked his lips, and took a deep breath to calm his budding erection. "You already carried two up the hill, and you're a lady."

She snickered at that. "No lady. I Pard."

Her paw latched on the laces of his knapsack when Magnus tried to pull it from her shoulder. Magnus insisted with a firm, persistent grip, but let go when she pulled hard enough herself. She squeaked and mewled her victory, and strode ahead with firm footsteps and a straight posture. Her rosettes seemed to shift and dance under the dapples of light. Her tail swayed with broad swings, and the fluffy tip twitched restlessly. A far shot from the Zharyi of yesterday, with slumped shoulders and wary gaze.

Magnus chuckled. They only mated twice, but it was enough for her poise to change to that of a free Zharyi.

Pard taught him of the healing properties of each bushel they passed, of their edible fruits and the various uses of tree sap, depending on its consistency. Magnus huffed, nodded, huffed, and nodded once again. Their third hill by now, and she still spoke with the same clarity under her steady breath.

"Grab branch and use it to steady for hard slopes," she suggested. "Even if Magnus tired, we have to keep going, else lose track of wizards.

Magnus shook his head. "It's not my first time climbing rolling hills and mountains. I'm used to it."

He stepped on a patch of dried pine needles. The ground shifted under his foot, and he lunged forward just in time to hug the tree in front of him, panting under her sharp, hissing laughter.

"Your paws not free, like mine. Covered in slippery boots. Is why Magnus needs stick," she said once her fit subsided.

Magnus grabbed a twig, cut its protrusions with his short sword, and used it as a walking cane for the rest of the descent. He accepted her paw once the ground evened out and bit his lip to conceal his smile.

"Also keep knees bent, toes flexed. Easy, eh?" She didn't wait for a reply before striding forward.

Magnus rolled his eyes, clenched his jaws, and set forth at her accelerated pace.

They reached the meadow she had mentioned earlier when the sun bled in the sky. Magnus threw aside his makeshift cane and took in a deep breath to savor the wild scents of the mountain flowers. They sprouted from everywhere around him, tiny splotches of color littering an endless sea of green. Pard flopped and rolled against them, growling and thrashing her paws at the air.

Magnus chuckled at the sight. It explained why her fur bore the scent of the forest. He stepped next to her...

And yelped when her foot tackled his shin, sending him forward into a warm mass of fur and flailing limbs. Her arms wrapped around him while Pard's eyes bore into his, her dark nostrils inches from him. Magnus' heavy breath contrasted her shallow one as he stared straight into the ebony dots drowned in a sea of faded gold. Her thighs tightened around his, and her purr deepened as her tail tip brushed against the back of his neck.

Magnus grabbed her tail, and raised his eyebrows at the playful expression etched upon her muzzle. "You want something from me."

"Magnus can tell?"

As if it wasn't obvious. His crotch pressed against her loincloth, and Pard made sure to wiggle her hips, the touch of her groin upon his urging Magnus' member to grow. He began kissing her, starting from her wet, ebony nose, then along the spotted sides of her muzzle, up a cheek and on the thinner fur of her brow. She purred, her eyes closed as she basked in Magnus' pleasant ministrations. He had complete control over her body, to touch and massage her as he saw fit.

Only, Magnus had no patience for that. He rested on top of her, and used his legs to pry open her thighs as he began working on the clasp of his belt. Once it popped open, he unraveled the laces of his leggings, enough to allow his rock hard member out.

"Mrrrr," Pard growled as she watched him through her half lidded eyes. She licked her muzzle with hearty strokes, her nostrils flared in anticipation.

Magnus didn't bother removing her loincloth. It only served to conceal her privates, not to cover them. Magnus folded it back to expose her glistening folds, then descended upon her in a swift stroke.

"Gah," he cried out as he sank inside her.

Pard hugged him, tighter than her insides ever did, and whispered into his ear, "Remember Pard's words. Magnus cums when he wants to cum. No hold back for Pard."

Magnus nodded, his brow furrowed due to the sudden pleasure that coursed through him. He tried a few slow, tantalizing strokes, meant to stimulate Pard's nethers enough for her to gush out more arousal. She already did that, however, and Magnus slid effortlessly in and out of her, slipping through her folds with the same ease Pard's tail slid along his torso.

The squelching of her drenched tunnel, coupled with the terse squeezes along his shaft, drove him mad with lust. Rather than keep it slow and deliberate, Magnus squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and began mating Pard in his earnest, like he did before. Hard, rocky thrusts that carried him to his peak faster than he anticipated.

He cracked an eye open, and warm shivers crept through his spine at the sight of Pard's twitching lips. Her steady purr bespoke of her delight, yet she didn't snarl in bliss, nor did her toes and fingers curl around the ground for purchase.

It was happening again! Not even a minute passed, and Magnus' teeth rattled from the might of his climax. He plunged inside her, hard enough to make Pard's frame shudder, releasing a shuddering cry of ecstasy as his seed exploded out of his blood engorged tip. Hard, thick spurts left his throbbing member, splashing onto Pard's overly wet sanctuary. Her tail jerked across his chest with uneven swings, and her toes and fingers trembled from the strength of his spurts upon her most sensitive region.

Magnus collapsed upon her, heaving. He listened to the thundering beats of her heart while he tapered off inside Pard, wincing as she squeezed his spent flesh. The terse spasms were meant to carry him to his peak, yet Magnus' seed was spent, just like his attempt to pleasure Pard.

His features hardened for a brief moment during which he snaked his hand across her belly, towards her groin. Pard's hand caught him, and Magnus yelped from the strength of her clutch.

"What Magnus doing?"

Wasn't that obvious? And yet, his words froze on his lips under her warm, loving gaze.

"Leave seed inside Pard. Nothing feels better than the love of Magnus inside Pard's cunt."

Magnus sighed. He relaxed his wrist, enough to signal Pard of his intention, and kissed her chin instead. "Don't call it that. It's not a cunt. It's your blossom, made of the smoothest of silks."

"Mrowl?" Her ears perked in confusion, and her whiskers sagged. "Why not cunt?"

"Because, my dearest Pard, cunt is a foul word," he said while he stroke the side of her neck. "And you are too kind, too beautiful to be referred to in such crude language."

Her purr deepened to a hearty thrum. It rippled through her frame, making Magnus' hairs stand on end as her honey colored gaze shifted to match his. "Magnus teaches Pard so many things. Pard never knew what love is before Magnus took her. Now, Pard knows."

And so did Magnus. Her notion of love involved an overly tight hug while her tongue bathed his face and ears in leopard saliva. Magnus squirmed in her grip, but Pard didn't relent, laughing and licking him until she deemed him clean enough to retreat from her embrace.

Magnus pulled his leggings up, watching Pard roll around in the grass, purring her bliss. She kicked her feet at the air, her toes spread to their maximum width, her ebony claws out. Her tail wove around her feet, and she tried catching it between her paws several times before she gave up. Magnus knew her paws were agile enough to catch her flicking tail, yet he still laughed, preferring to be deceived this one time.

"I take this is the cue to make camp?" Magnus asked.

Pard rolled onto her side and tucked her tail between her thighs. "If Magnus wants."

"He does."

She sprung from her position with blinding speed and leaped on top of the knapsacks. She began unpacking their provisions, snickering.

Magnus shook his head at the sight of food, drank half of a water skin and poured the rest onto his sweat drenched brow. His fingers raked through his straight, stiff hair to spread the delightful moisture across his scalp, down his ears, onto his neck.

"Magnus has interesting fur," Pard said.

"Hah. There's nothing interesting about it." He swiped away a clump of straight hair that poked at his eye. "It's infuriating, is what it is."

"Pard still finds it interesting." She rose and held a paw forward. "Can Pard touch?"

Magnus nodded reluctantly, and shuddered when her padded fingers groped and kneaded at his locks. "Like silk. Long too," she said and brushed it aside to fondle one of his ears between two fingers.

"I'll cut it when it reaches my shoulder."

"You have to?" Her voice thinned. "It looks like mane, black, beautiful." She stepped in front of him. "I no want Magnus to cut it."

"Then I'll leave it like it is," he said, and she beamed. "Like a mane, black and beautiful. But," he said and held up a finger, "I ask for something in return."

Pard tilted her head.

"You will have to work with me, not under me. I will purchase your freedom from Larn upon return, so that both Magnus and Pard are equal."

She mewled and hurled herself at him. Magnus staggered under her weight. He pressed a hand tight against her head and patted her shoulder with the other while her arms squeezed the breath out of him. Her muzzle traced along his neck, and Magnus had to push her away before her barbs scraped his skin off.

They laughed when she backed away, Pard scratching her head and Magnus wiping the drool off his neck.

"Pard never been so happy. But we talk of this later, after we track." Excitement oozed through her words, and reflected upon the spring in her step.

The flutter within Magnus' chest urged him to press forward, to keep up with her, to never lose sight of her tail once the meadow gave way to thick, tall trees. They spoke no more while climbing the tricky slopes sprinkled with pebbles. Glances sufficed, along with her broad, snarly smiles whenever she picked up the group's trail.

Magnus' stride lessened to a shuffle once the moon rose, its light too faint for his squinted eyes to see beyond the towering shapes of trees and through the darkness filling the space between them.

His heart skipped a beat when Pard appeared in front of him, her eyes big in the waning light. "Gully ahead, and so they. Humans blind in darkness, so we camp."

"No, we shouldn't," Magnus said. Renewed strength surged through his limbs, washing aside his dull ache. "If we're close to them, we keep moving."

"They no move. Is good to settle--"

"It's not good, Pard" Magnus interrupted with a firm shake of his head. "Not good enough for me, not for what we are about to do." He grabbed one of her paws and held it between his palms. "These wizards--they track a dragon. If there is one hidden in these mountains, they will kill it, rip out its heartstone, and trade it for rank and lands. We won't be able to keep up with them once the deed is done, and we most certainly won't find them within Willowveil. They will disappear, just like our chance to get to the dragon before they do."

Pard's ears flicked. "Heartstone?"

"The heart of a dragon augments a wizard's power beyond that of the Grandmage himself," he said, and pressed his lips shut when the reason for his urgency leaned on the tip of his tongue. The less she knew, the better.

Pard growled, but locked her other paw with Magnus' hands. "If is important to Magnus, then we go."

Magnus traced his fingers along the smooth pads of her palms, groping at her meaty digits. "Words spread like wild fire. Better to cut the source." He lifted his gaze to match hers. "I'll have to kill them all, while they sit in their camp, getting drunk most likely. I'll have to prepare an ambush and--"

"Then we kill all," Pard said, her voice as firm as her unyielding grip.

Magnus' jaws clenched at her resolute words. No tremors coated her smooth voice, and her tail swished from side to side with practiced nonchalance.

"Pard, this isn't... I don't...It's not your fight. It's mine. I do not want to involve you in my battles."

He swung his head to the side, licked his lips, sighed, and tried to pull out of her grip.

He grunted when her fingers tightened around his wrist.

"They scum, and Pard glad to kill."

"There will be scouts."

She growled at that. "No scout better at stalking than Pard. In the darkness, Pard is best hunter."

"What about the rest? There will be thugs, mercenaries, coated in layers of iron and swinging swords twice as long as mine. Your claws are sharp, but you have to get in within range to land a killing blow."

She snorted. "Metal make humans slow. Paws faster, claws better for close quarters combat."

"What about the archers?"

"Them, Pard kills first."

Magnus gritted his teeth, and Pard yelped and tensed up when he jerked out of her grip to settle a hand upon her frail, shuddering shoulder. "I have no doubt about that, but wizards--not even Pard can win against one, let alone three."

Her eyes narrowed as a sharp growl rippled in her throat. "How you know? Magnus never saw Pard fight. Magnus more scholar than warrior. That why Pard kill all, not Magnus." Her lips twitched with the trace of a snarl, and Magnus bowed his head and stroked her slender neck.

"You can assist me by killing the scouts and all of the possible archers that you spot. They're the ones with the bows."

"Pard can kill all, wizards included if Magnus trusts--"

"Scouts and archers," Magnuss spoke with slow, heavy words.

Pard's ears shifted to the sides as her tail turned stiff and her eyes widened. "Why?"

"Because I say so. Trust me on this one, dear mate," Magnus said.

Because I'm a better wizard than those drunken fools. He gritted his teeth at the thought and urged her forward with a curt nod. Once she turned her back to him, Magnus wiped the beads of sweat from his brow and dug his hands into his ruffled hair. What did he get her into? What did he get himself into?

He heard only the thrum of his heart, felt only the throbs of his temples as he shuffled forward, always a step behind the swaying tip of her tail. He kept his eyes on the ground, a hand wrapped around the pommel of his sword, and his breath shallow.

The silence allowed him to tap into his inner spiritual energy easier than ever before. Each heartbeat amplified the churn of his stomach, until a sliver of unbridled energy shot along his spine and dispersed through his limbs. Magnus staggered as the tingling sensation spread through his frame, until it pulsed faintly inside him.

He bit his lip to prevent a gasp at the euphoric sensation washing through him. Tapping into his spiritual energy always made him jittery for some reason, now more than ever. What if Pard felt it, or noticed it somehow? If she did, she showed no signs of it.

Magnus sank his nails into the soft fabric of his leggings as he channeled a sliver of his spiritual energy into the air around them. It shifted and swirled, until the faint gusts beat against them.

"Is good. Wind against us. If they have Zharyi, it unable to smell us."

Magnus squeezed his eyes shut. Spit stuck in his throat at her quick observation, and he forced it down with a hard gulp. When he cracked an eye open, Pard faced him, paw outstretched.

"Slope ahead. Is too dark, so let Pard guide."

He clutched her paw tight, and she smiled. "I walk slow, yes?"

She shuffled slower than a snail. Magnus squeezed, groped at her pads, even tried to get ahead of her, only for her tail to slap at his chest.

"Ground shifts. If step on branch with slippery boot, Magnus falls."

"I know my way around a forest."

"Not when so dark."

She had a point. Magnus blinked hard and fast to catch fleeting glimpses of trees, swaying boughs, and thin dapples of moonlight. The more the forest thickened, the rarer they became, until Magnus bit his lip to make sure the penetrating darkness wasn't just a dream. Pard's tail guided him better than her paw did, the tip swaying in the direction of her muffled footsteps.

She hissed, growled, mewled, purred at every rise, curve and slant. Magnus bit back his pent up frustration, until she stopped to dab her foot at every fallen branch and patch of mud.

"We're too slow."

"Have to be slow," she said.

"Not this slow." Magnus strode forward, slammed his palm against a fir tree and tilted his head to her scrunched muzzle. "I've been in a forest, and know what to look for. We either pick up the pace, or make camp."

"I go faster." She stretched out her paw, but Magnus drew away from her touch.

"You underestimate me."

She froze at that, then pressed her chin tight against her chest. "Is no underestimate, is--"

"Whatever it is, I want your word that, as soon as the scouts and archers are dead, you flee and leave the wizards to me."

"Why should Pard--"

"Your word," Magnus interrupted. "Nothing more."

"Then stretch hands."

Magnus raised his eyebrows.

"Stretch hands," she insisted.

Magnus did. She approached him, knelt despite his protests, and ran her rough tongue along his knuckles. "Words pass, bonds remain," she said as she got onto her feet.

A shudder crept through Magnus as he wiped his hands on his jerkin. Whatever Pard did, it wiped the doubt in her step. She walked instead of strolling, and whirled around to catch Magnus upon her chest whenever he tripped and lurched forward. He thanked her, and thanked her, until his mouth turned dry.

They shared a water skin while he rested upon a boulder. Pard paced around, glancing at him several times while she shuffled her paws.

"Why can't Pard kill wizard? What makes wizard different from the rest of them humans?"

"Because Pard has to flee and conceal her presence while I do the killing," Magnus explained.

"Why?"

He rolled his eyes at her persistence. "There are two easy ways to kill a wizard. In their sleep, or with an arrow from a safe enough distance so that he doesn't notice you."

"And if he does?"

Magnus scoffed. "You run, and keep out of their eyesight."

Pard nodded. The shaft of pale moonlight that fell upon her revealed her features, soft and not burdened by the crippling worries that slithered through Magnus' mind. She loved him. That was enough to make Pard discard her promise and do something overly reckless.

"And if scout shouts for help?"

"Don't let them do that."

She stopped. "And if?"

"There is no if. Not as long as we both do the tasks that have been assigned to us."

She dropped onto her rump, grabbed her foot and kneaded at her pads with deft strokes. Magnus' fingers itched with the urge to do that himself, to give her a measure of relief after what he had put her through.

No. The closer they got to the wizards and their camp, the less she respected him, the higher the chance she would do something stupid to impress her mate.

"The book," Pard said as she craned her neck towards his satchel. "That where Magnus learned how to kill wizards?"

"Sums it up, yes."

"Then why carry sword, and not bow?"

Magnus clasped his hands at the question. "I'm better with a sword."

"But sword bad against wizard."

Not if his wind magic outmatched the three of them. "They'll be too dead to notice I carry a sword while I make quick work of the rest of their band."

"Sound certain."

"I am."

"Why?" She inquired.

"I trained."

She tilted her head to the side at that and let go of her foot. "Magnus a footman scholar?"

He chuckled at that. "No footman training. Just swings to keep my arms strong."

"And where sword from?"

Magnus' gaze fell on the scabbard at his side, and the initials of his father scratched onto the surface, followed by runes, almost as distorted as his mind during his last years. "Grab the knapsacks."

She did that without objection. Magnus grabbed her paw, but instead of moving forward, she spun on her feet and pressed her soggy nose against his brow and licked him. He sank his fingers into the thick fur of her neck and rubbed her tenderly. Her tongue darted out and dashed across his skin a second time, much to Magnus' groan.

"This supposed to improve our odds?" He said while wiping with the sleeve of his tunic.

Her giggle pierced the heavy silence. "No. Just had dirt. Pard cleaned it the only way Pard can."

"Or you can just wipe it with your hand."

"And smear dirt on fur? Harrr! Even harder to clean, the fur."

Magnus grabbed her tail when it whipped at his face more than twice. It wriggled in his grip, hard enough to break through his fingers. The tip brushed against his nose, urging a sneeze muffled by her rumbling purr.

"Tail strong, almost as strong as arms."

"I noticed," he said while tapping his foot. Pard's ears perked at that, and mirth died upon her muzzle.

"Apology," she said with a curt bow. "Excited. Never together with mate, in the forest. Pard wishes we could just make camp, and mate, and cuddle. Pard loved to cuddle with Magnus the previous night," she said, her voice heavy with longing.

"We will mate and cuddle as many times as you want after our task is done and I buy your freedom, Pard."

She smiled and offered him an arm this time around. Magnus pursed his lips and accepted it without even looking into her eyes. His cheeks burned, and the last thing he wanted was another quip from her at his address.

Pard had the courtesy not to speak, much to his relief. They strolled in silence, following the dapples of moonlight streaming through the shifting boughs. Magnus stepped on her tracks, crouched when she crouched and bent his knees to descend a slope whenever she tilted her paw downwards for emphasis.

A line of dried shrubs waited at the bottom. Magnus shook his head and wove his arm around to suggest bypassing them, but Pard growled and leaped over them. Thorns tugged at her loincloth, revealing her rump for a fleeting moment before she flattened it back.

"Can look. Magnus is mate of Pard, so he can look under her coverings and touch her whenever Magnus wants."

Magnus swallowed hard, rounded the patch of bushes, and kept his breath low to prevent his erection from growing. By the time he joined her, his cheeks seethed and his member stirred within its confines. He had read that young female Zharyi often taunted males with games and quips when they desired to mate, yet in practice, it seemed infinitely more effective.

He inched closer to her, pulled her into a hug, and held her tight to his chest with an arm draped across her back while his free hand slid down her belly. Her muscles shuddered, and soft growls rumbled within Pard's throat.

"If Magnus wants to mate, then Pard has to turn around to allow him--"

"Shh," he said as he covered her lips with his own. He kissed her; a long, drawn-out, passionate kiss that kept her from protesting while his fingers slipped past the seams of her loincloth and met the wet, slippery fur of her groin.

"Mating weakens a man. I need my mind clear for what's to come, and you need release from the fetters of your instincts."

Pard's ears flicked, and her gaze drooped. "Pard doesn't want Magnus weak. But..." she lifted her gaze to match his. "Feels selfish, for Pard to get pleasure while Magnus remains hard."

Pard's tongue dabbed at his lips, but Magnus used his other hand to grab her head and direct her over his shoulder. "Lean over me, and do not yowl."

Her rich purr soothed the frantic beatings of his heart somewhat, and removed the tension from his voice. "I love you, Pard. You deserve every form of pleasure you can get, and I ask nothing more than for you to accept my choice and hug me tight."

As soon as her arms wrapped around him, Magnus descended the last few inches. His finger tips met her slightly swollen and shivering lips. He caressed them, fondled them, made Pard squirm and stretch her legs open to allow him more space over her dainty crevice.

Magnus swallowed emptiness as his two fingers rested upon her pussy for a brief moment. His cock lurched within the confines of his leggings harder than ever, and lust addled his mind to the point where he itched to slide out of his leggings and take Pard.

He couldn't. His legs already ached and shivered from the prolonged travel. Spending his remaining stamina mating Pard would turn his movements sluggish and dull his mind enough to prevent him from Shaping his spiritual energy with keen accuracy.

Do it for her. She's all that matters. She's the one who is in heat.

Magnus pressed his lips shut over the reassuring thoughts, locked two fingers together, and poked through Pard's lips and into her depths.

Her reaction was immediate. She whipped her tail across Magnus' arms, and a ragged hiss made its way out of her snarling muzzle. Magnus held her tighter against his chest, then sank his two fingers further in, up to his knuckles. The quivers of her rocking insides picked up, and Pard's hiss shattered into soft cries and she stomped her left foot a few times, whining in his ear.

"I know, I know it feels good," Magnus said, "but keep silent Pard."

Her pussy squelched as her folds swallowed the entirety of his two fingers. A hearty, audible spurt shot from her depths, splashing against Magnus' hand, coating him in thin, overly sweet leopard fragrance. Magnus took her cue to wiggle his fingers within her a little bit, spreading them as much as her tight passage allowed and using the tips of his fingers to caress her silken walls.

"Mroooowl," Pard cried.

Claws made their way out of sheaths. Her muzzle shifted to allow her tongue to slide over Magnus' neck with short, terse strokes, her purr so loud in his ears Magnus shuddered from its intensity.

He pulled out of her clenching depths, added his remaining two fingers, and pierced her again. Rather than staying inside her, Magnus began thrusting in and out of Pard's tight pussy with quick strokes, denying her the possibility to clamp down around him and have a short, blissful orgasm. No. Magnus wanted the best for her. He wanted her to cum rivers, to empty herself of the fire that made her folds swell and turned her groin into a veritable lake.

So, he pounded her using his four fingers, pressed tight against another, while his thumb rubbed the surface of her slit with harder, faster strokes. More arousal leaked through Pard's tightening tunnel. It dribbled down Magnus' hand, slipping on the ground with a steady drip, drip, drip.

She was close. Magnus felt it in the spasms wracking her insides, smelled it in the pleasant fragrance that engulfed them. Pard's hands began kneading at Magnus' arms softly. Her licks stopped, and instead, she nibbled at his neck to muffle her high pitched growl of bliss.

Magnus slowed down, focusing on plowing through her rapidly clenching muscles. He held his breath as he waded through her narrow passage inch by inch, his cock throbbing, his pre leaking in unison with Pard's juices. She wasn't quite there yet, so he spread all of his fingers inside her, pushing back against her clamping muscles.

That did it. Pard's knees buckled, a feral growl rippling in her throat as her terse shudders rippled along her smooth walls. She thrust her head back, unleashing a sporadic yowl broken by her hitching breath. Her frame melted into Magnus' embrace, making him grit his teeth as her weight fell onto his arm. He kept wiggling his fingers inside her, flaring her climax to the point where her spurts shot out of her depths with such force Magnus heard them splatter against his hand and ground.

He panted, almost as heavily as Pard did while she milked his fingers. Magnus eased her onto the ground, keeping his four fingers inside her to elicit more feline cum out of her shuddering pussy.

"You did good," Magnus told her. "Even though you yowled. I told you not to yowl, my dearest kitten. Harsh cries sometimes attract unwanted attention."

"Felt--felt too good," Pard growled. "Pard couldn't help it."

Magnus waited for her spasms to subside before he pulled his hand out of her. Pard's paw caught him as soon as her loincloth slid over the mess she made of her groin, and directed him towards her muzzle. Magnus winced at first, then chuckled as her tongue slurped in the clear, slimy fluids coating his hand. It freaking tickled! And the soft barbs on her tongue only served to make it worse. Yet Magnus endured, if only to listen to her deep, meandering purr while she cleaned him of her juices.

Once she finished, Magnus dropped besides her to catch his breath. His cock throbbed harder than ever, and Pard's gaze upon his crotch didn't bode well.

"What Magnus did with his hand, Pard can do with paw, if Magnus allows."

"Pard, no, I'm not--it weakens me. I can't..." he trailed off as her fingers began unlacing his leggings.

"Magnus can. Pard's pads very soft. Will make Magnus cum very fast, yes."

"I can't cum," he retorted. "I shouldn't cum. There's a battle to be fought and--"

Her glare silenced him. "Magnus can't fight. Not with cum in his member. Lean back, let Pard rub it off. Pard relieved now. No longer distracted. After Magnus cums, he too, relieved."

He wouldn't win this argument, not against Pard. In her enthusiasm to get him undressed, Pard did more damage than good, creating unnecessary knots from his laces. Magnus stifled a chuckle as he undid the knots she created by mistake. Once done, he pushed back his leggings to reveal his stiffness, half coated in his own arousal.

Pard took a hard look at his stiffness, her paws shuffling, a pensive look upon her face. She didn't know how to proceed, Magnus realized, but her twitching tail tip suggested her stubborn persistence.

Magnus gulped hard, then threw her an uncertain glance. "I can also do it myself. Rub myself off," he added when she cocked her head. She didn't move to stop him, so Magnus' hand inched towards his cock.

"Ow," he yelped when he paw swatted his wrist aside.

"No, let Pard. She knows what to do, to make Magnus feel good and cum fast. First, this."

She stretched an arm over his shoulders, caressing his cheek with the padded underside of her fingers as she urged Magnus to lean onto her chest. Magnus allowed her to direct his head under her chin, where her tongue had complete access over his ear. She licked him a few times, releasing a soft, joyful giggle.

"Magnus comfortable?"

Amidst the soft fur of her chest, with her chin providing a comforting weight upon his brow? He moaned in response, flaring Pard's purr a pitch higher.

"Good. Now this."

She spread her thighs open to insert two stubby digits into her depths. Her frame rocked for a brief moment, and her purr dispersed into thinning growls as she sank deeper and deeper. Magnus licked his lips at the erotic sight. His cock lurch with renewed vigor, and he couldn't help but whimper at just how hard he was.

That only served to fuel Pard's conviction. Her tongue dashed across his ear before she whispered, "Is good. Magnus can stare at Pard's cunt if he wants. Imagine he inside Pard."

Her words drew him out of his blissful haze. "I--I'm not--I wasn't trying to..."

"Mrrrr, keep silent," she said as she spread the slimy juices of her climax all over the padded underside of her hand. "Pard is Magnus' mate. She is his. Every part of her. Can touch, mate, and look at her cunt whenever Magnus wants. No shame, for Magnus to love Pard."

Magnus' heart stirred. Warmth filled him, more intense than anything he had ever felt before. Huddled against Pard, with his left cheek buried into her lush, fresh scented fur, Magnus' mind churned with a sea of kind words at her address. He couldn't speak them all, not while Pard prepared to attend to him, so he lifted his gaze towards her and kissed her short and sweet.

"I love you, Pard. I love you very much."

"Mrowl, Pard knows. Will have proof of his love inside her paw, when Magnus cums faster than ever."

He chuckled at her quip, and she couldn't help but snicker and flick her ears. "Strange human, Magnus. Thinks is wrong to cum fast."

"It's not wrong. It's just not something I am very proud of, considering that aghhhhhhhhh."

The great pleasure flooding his body cut off his words. His jaws clenched hard to contain his mighty throbs, and his features scrunched from the intense warmth surrounding his member. Pard's hand cupped his length, her fluids drenched pads sliding across him with unfathomable ease. Her palm never felt softer, her clutch never so tender. She squeezed him just the right amount, using her thumb to caress his lower half while her fingers danced across the length of his shaft in soft, rippling turns.

Magnus bucked his hips, thrusting into the central pad of her palm. He slipped across it due to her slickness, and thrust through her fingers, grunting in pure bliss. Pard nuzzled his neck, wrapped her hand around him in a tighter, better grip, then used her chin to direct his head towards her groin.

"Look at Pard, Magnus," she murmured. "Look at Pard."

Magnus looked at Pard. He stared at her puffy lips, shuddering in unison with the gentle strokes along his shaft. A pale ray of moonlight fell upon her crevice, making it glisten due to the translucent arousal that covered her.

By the five elements, she was so wet! Magnus moaned and bucked his hips once again at the memory of her folds, pressed tight around him moments before he burst inside her. Such vivid memory made his member tighten within Pard's grip, and his throbs paused for a fleeting moment during which Magnus held his breath. Warm tingles snaked through his balls, making them shudder slightly. His cock pulsated once, twice, then swelled.

Magnus felt it. That fiery pressure welled within his groin, ready to burst at a moment's notice. Pard felt it too. She rubbed him, faster and harder, and formed a ring with her thumb and a finger that she used to squeeze Magnus' bulged head while the rest of her fingers stroked him too fast, too hard.

He thrust his chin against his chest, and pressed his jaws shut to muffle his orgasmic cry. It came out as a hiss, low and sporadic, as he loosened his essence into Pard's paw. His spurts, splattering against Pard's pads, made him shudder from their intensity. His vision clouded, his breath stuck in his throat, and all Magnus could do was moan softly as he emptied his passion into his mate's grip.

"Ghah, ghah, ghah," he panted once his throbs subsided. A few winces escaped him, urging Pard to stop her ministrations. After such intense climax, his cock turned overly sensitive, and even the smoothness of her pads couldn't bring comfort to him.

"Let--let go of me please," Magnus stammered. "You're squeezing--too hard."

She lifted her paw, flexing her fingers to flaunt the copious amounts of cum coating her ebony palm. It filled the crevices between her fingers, dribbled down her central pad in the form of fat, ivory snakes. Magnus smiled wryly at the sight, slightly disappointed that he released his passion inside Pard's paw so fast. Not even her pussy, and he still failed to hold back his orgasm.

Pard craned her muzzle, and brought her dirty paw in front of it.

"W--wait, I have leather--"

Scraps that you can use to wipe on, Magnus finished within his mind, his lips too numb to give voice to his thoughts. He watched Pard's tongue rolling over her dirty paw, taking in all of his seed, letting it roll down her tongue. She purred louder than ever as she had her first taste of his essence, and favored him a broad smile once finished.

Magnus didn't know what to say. He put on a stupid smile and tried to keep his eyebrows steady and contain his frown.

"Your kind--the Zharyi do this often?"

Pard shrugged and licked her muzzle with gusto. "Is common, for mates to taste one another. Symbolizes the deep connection they share, by taking one's essence into yourself. Pard took Magnus inside her. Pard never did this before, with anyone."

She kissed him, over and over again, cradling him, caressing him, licking him with fast, enthusiastic tongue strokes. Assaulted from every side, all Magnus could do was laugh and scratch at Pard's chin with his stiff fingers. She leaned onto her side, then, and lifted a thigh to uncover her shuddering pussy. Magnus didn't wait one extra heart beat. He pressed three fingers together and pierced her, carrying her to a second climax with slow, tantalizing strokes.

She came even harder than before. Her frame practically shivered from the might of her release, and her toes kept kneading at the air, claws poking in and out of their sheaths. Magnus allowed her to rest into his embrace while he listened to her heavy breathing. Such a soft, alluring sound. So strangely fulfilling.

Magnus pulled his soggy fingers out of her, and blocked her muzzle with his other hand as he slurped on her essence. It had a bittersweet tang to it, slightly salty yet smooth like the smoothest of nectars. Magnus licked off two more of his fingers while Pard's tongue rolled rolled across the other two. They shared a faint giggle, followed by a long, intimate kiss that made Magnus' heart flutter in his chest.

"Now I took Pard into myself as well. That makes us even."

"No, not even. Pard is just a Pard," Pard purred. "But Magnus..." she paused to kiss him, then drew back, staring at him with those big, warm, honey colored eyes. " Magnus is better. Magnus is best mate. So loving, so caring," she said, running her fingers across his brow. "Pard blessed by all the gods that exist, to share bodies with Magnus, to rest on top of him, after Pard had two moments of great pleasure."

"I stand equally blessed," he said.

Pard shifted off him, too soon. He immediately missed her comforting caress, her warmth, her scent. He stretched a hand forward to grab her paw, but she shook out of his grip and pulled the loincloth across her groin.

"No. If Pard lies down with Magnus, Pard falls asleep. So good, Magnus' embrace is."

It was, wasn't it? Too bad it only lasted for a fleeting moment.

Magnus' mirth subsided, and so did Pard's purr. Her features grew hard, her eyes focused. As soon as he strapped the satchel and his sword to his belt, Pard motioned him to come over.

"Wrap arm around Pard's waist. Gully ahead, and many pebbles. Magnus has weak gaze. Even with moonlight, he can't see all the obstacles blocking our path."

Magnus rolled his eyes, inched closer to her, and slid his hand along the smooth fur of her back until his fingers wrapped her waist. He touched the delicate texture of her loincloth, and drew in a deep breath at the thought of what rested underneath. Even after he pierced her twice, Magnus still yearned to shelter his fingers within her warm depths, to spread her open, to feel her juices leaking out as she cried her climax. For a Zharyi in heat, nothing felt better than the fast, sudden releases Magnus' fingers had provided her with.

We have an entire lifetime together for that, he thought as he shuffled at her side, his eyes squinted, a hand held forward to test for branches that might poke at his face.All I have to do is find the dragon, a proper excuse to send her away while I kill it, take its heartstone, then mate her for as many times as she wants on the way back to Willowveil.

Magnus smiled. It was a good plan. One that his wind magic would help achieve.

His thoughts vanished as he stepped on something hard and slippery. Pard's arm tightened around his waist as she shoved him to the side and straight into her embrace. Her fur filled Magnus' face, soft and warm and oozing that sweet, alluring scent of the forest.

"Keen reflexes," he said, his breath hoarse, his heart pounding from the sudden slip.

"Not only reflexes. Good feet, too, with long claws. Will be sore, and in need of rubbing when we make camp."

What a mischievous kitten! One single slip, and she already proclaimed her reward.

"It's starting to grow on you, eh? My massage," he added when Pard growled her confusion.

"Massage good, yes. Magnus has good fingers for that. Slim, without pads, and know what to touch, how to touch."

She winked at him, placed a wet kiss on his cheek, and craned her neck forward before starting to move again.

"So does Pard. Her touch rivals that of the gods themselves." He looked away from her, trying in vain to conceal his smirk. Two days together, and they already resorted to subtle praise to hint at deeper meanings for their upcoming mating.

Pard's overly long whiskers left his neck as she twisted her neck from one side to the other, her nostrils flared as she took in various scents. She shook her head to confirm Magnus' suspicions, and they resumed their journey through the treacherous incline. The knapsacks dangling across Pard's back bobbed against Magnus' arm in unison with her short, careful steps. She swiped her right foot across the ground, her toes spread and claws out to scoop away the pebbles. Magnus did the same, and made it up to the top without as much as a stumble.

His stomach sank as he narrowed his eyes against the flicker of amber light spilling through the trees. A chorus of laughter wafted from somewhere ahead, coarse and loud. Pard's fingers pressed harder against his ribs, drawing the breath out of him.

"Light enough for your eyes?" her voice was hard and firm, and her posture stiffened in preparation.

He nodded in the ubiquitous gloom, and Pard let go of him to prowl forward.

"Wait," Magnus said.

She turned her head with a soft hiss.

"They're awake. All of them. Even the wizards."

"Still kill scouts."

"Wait, don't kill anything yet," Magnus growled. "Scout. That's what you have to do. Just scout while I get closer to their camp and assess their numbers and capabilities. If there is killing to be done, I'll let you know." He took a moment to wet his parched throat, then added, "Do not go against my word, Pard. I know what I'm saying. It's not the first time I do this."

"Pard heard. All she does is scout."

She flicked her tail before the darkness swallowed her. Magnus took a deep breath, drew his sword, and bent his knees. He shuffled forward with sluggish side steps, pausing whenever a rustle came from under his boot. He bit his upper lip to muffle a gasp at every grunt, shout, chortle. They were as loud as they were drunk, yet Magnus' heart still thundered in his chest. It all worked in Pard's favor, and his, if they huddled around a campfire. A blast of wind against their bonfire to make it explode, and they would wallow and clutch their burning faces while Magnus split their guts open.

Unless Pard alerted them.

His temples pounded at the thought, and he picked up his pace until the fiery tendrils of the bonfire crept along the hard packed ground.

Magnus dashed to a tree. Then to another, and another, until he blinked hard and fast to adjust his sore eyes to the blaze. He tilted his head from behind the tree's cover for a curt glimpse at the camp.

Six men sprawled around one side of the bonfire, garbed in tattered red leather and bearing a dagger at each hip. Their disheveled looks, wine soaked beards and raucous laughter marked them as nothing more than mere thugs, greedy with wine and overly loud. From the same band, nevertheless.

Three of them had their arms wrapped around each other's necks and sang a strident song. A bald one with squinted eyes and a portly chest rippling through his vest sharpened his blade, while the other two half snoozed. They only rose their cups to cheer before their heads bobbed and slammed against their shoulders.

Two of the wizards--Small Brow and the one with short cropped hair-- glared across the bonfire at their rowdy company. Small Brow covered his face with his palms while his companion cackled and threw his wineskin through the fire. The thugs converged upon it like mice, flaring his laughter to high pitched squeaks.

"Can dragon gets drunk if it eats them?" he mumbled, barely coherent in his drunken stupor. "It should, eh? By all the gods and their shriveled cocks, these two have more wine in them than blood."

Small Brow got up at that, shook his head and strolled to a patch of rugs piled on top of each other.

"Is a good plan, you sour bastard!" His companion shouted at Small Brow's back. "We're wasting wine on them otherwise. Wasting wine...the bloody hell I give them to drink otherwise..."

He slumped onto the ground and fumbled through his sack for another wineskin. The thugs growled, shrieked, screamed. Two had their hands jammed in each other's throat, two threw lethargic punches at each other, and the other two cheered from the side. The brawling pair fell with a hard thump, and laughter erupted.

Magnus slunk through two trees and propped his back against a thick trunk. Shadows converged upon him, protecting him, concealing him, urging him to act. A dash and a lunge, and he could take Small Brow out. He took a step to the side of the trunk...

And drew back when it hit him. Ponytail, the one Small Brow blasted the day before, wasn't at the bonfire. Magnus scrutinized their camp, double checked the pile of furs, looked as far to the other side of the bonfire as possible. Two piles of fur, two wizards, and the six thugs. No sign of Ponytail, or the three trackers.

Did they leave him behind? Magnus' heart pounded at the uncertainty of the thought, and a cold shudder crept through his frame. He clenched his jaw, reached within himself and gasped as a tingling surge washed through him. The wind picked up, and he stilled it by emptying his mind of everything that laughed, or flickered, or moved. Then, he projected his tranquility around him, like an ephemeral blanket, until the wind beat no more.

Holding even the most basic of Binding spells made him jittery. He stomped his foot, tightened and relaxed his grip around the sword's pommel, groped at his lower lip with his teeth.

Something clutched his shoulder.

In his heightened state, Magnus shrieked, whirled, swung. Pard lunged to the side and dropped to her fours to avoid his blow. He blinked, hard and fast. It really was her!

"Scouts dead," she said. "Pard saw to that."

"How many?"

Her ears shifted and her tail twitched.

"How many?"

Pard scrunched her muzzle. Fresh blood still dribbled down her chin and coated her paws. She slurped it, too loud in the pressing silence. "Bad at count. Several. Asleep instead of patrol."

"Was a wizard among them?" Magnus raised his voice. "White tunic, Binds and Shapes wind."

Pard shook her head. "Trackers from yesterday, and two boys. Killed all."

A sudden rustle alerted Magnus. Pard hissed and pounced a fleeing thug when he stumbled upon his lowered breeches. All he managed was a sharp shriek before Pard's claws dug into the sides of his neck.

A rough shout came from the camp, followed by grunts and the hiss of metal.

"The fuck was this?" one of the thugs said.

"The fuck was that?" Another shouted.

"There, by the tree!" somebody yelled. "It's a focking rogue cat. After it, lads. Bring your swords upon it, boys."

"Run Pard," was all Magnus said before he squeezed his eyes shut to Shape the wind. His temples throbbed, his knees shook, his fingers twitched around the sword's pommel. The thugs shouted and stomped, flaring the thumps of his heart to a constant pounding.

Magnus urged his spiritual energy into the most basic of shapes, a sphere, too small for such significant mass of burning wood, and thrust it into the bonfire. The flames swirled and bent, and the only thug who still stood next to the bonfire lunged away from a fallen, burning twig. The rest spread, dashed, shouted to each other.

And Small Brow was on his feet. Already?!

Magnus locked his gaze on him. He sucked in a deep breath, channeled an onrush of wind at his back, and dashed. His lungs burned, his muscles seared, and Small Brow scrunched his face.

He was going to Shape the wind as well.

Magnus gritted his teeth, formed a noose within his mind's eye around Small Brow's neck, and Shaped it with a surge of spiritual energy. Magnus fell to one knee, panting, as Small Brow's eyes swell and burst in their sockets. A sickening crunch came, followed by the thump of his lifeless body. One more remained.

The youth with short cropped hair wobbled back and forth. His knees gave in, and he crashed with a thin yowl. Magnus scrambled to his feet, dashed towards him, and tackled his fleeing from. A punch to the back of his head turned him still enough for Magnus to cut his throat. He drew his sword from his thrashing body just as a shadow fell upon him, and raised it to deflect a thug's dagger. It slid along Magnus' arm and bit into his ribs.

Magnus yowled at the onrush of searing pain and slammed his elbow into the man's temples. He stumbled, and Magnus rolled on top of him, gripped his knuckles and directed the dagger into those quivering jowls. He squirmed, gurgled, and slammed his fist into Magnus' side. A growl erupted through his clenched teeth as he sank the dagger up to the hilt.

After he let go of the squirming dead man and recovered his footing, Magnus sidestepped a scrawny youth, hamstrung him with a slash across his shin, then spun sideways to split his gut open with a terse swing. No more shadows came after the youth. Only shouts, followed by a sharp yowl. Magnus turned in its direction to find two thugs chasing a limping Pard. One lunged forward to tackle her, and they both collapsed onto the ground in a flailing mass of limbs.

The world froze for the span of one gasp. She was wounded, and her portly opponent stunned her with a fist straight into her muzzle. That bought him enough time to slip out the dagger rested at his hip and adjust it in his grip.

Magnus squinted against the glare, Shaped the wind into thin, narrow blades around the assailant's elbows, poured all of his spiritual energy into it, and urged them to swing with a tilt of his neck. A desperate spell. A useless spell. He could have severed his head instead. Yet, in the heat of the moment, the dagger he clutched seemed infinitely more important than his life.

The man's arms fell off in unison with Magnus. The excess drain turned his legs limp, and every panting breath he took burned his lungs. Magnus blinked, again and again, to clear his bleary eyes as he propped onto his elbows to look at the battle unfolding before him.

Pard ended the portly man with a bite to the neck, but the other assailant descended upon her before she could wriggle out from under the dead man's corpse. His boot caught her square in the head, and her tail and limbs turned limp.

"Run, run," Magnus croaked, too low and too far away to make a difference. The man stood inches from her pinned form, cackling over her high pitched growl. He tried a feint, and Pard swatted a paw at his exposed head.

"No don't," Magnus growled, just as the dagger slashed her wrist with practiced alacrity.

A roar erupted from her, followed by a lunge and a swipe with her other paw. Her claws raked at the man's vest, but he stepped back, slammed his boot upon her wounded paw, and drew his arm back for an overhead strike.

Pard pushed herself to the side to avoid the dagger's bite, growled when the man's fist pounded her muzzle, and wriggled under the portly thug's body with obvious desperation. She slumped onto the ground when a second strike came, twisted her head away from harm's way and lashed out with a clawed paw.

Her assailant lunged back from harm's way, too fast for a blabbering drunkard.

"Fockin' cat," he roared as he drove his boot straight into her temples. "Killed Portly, Shorty, Snorty, fockin' freak. I'll fuck you like I haven't fucked anyone before, ya hear me?"

Magnus squeezed his eyes shut at her increasingly feeble. Everything throbbed, burned, pounded. His Shapes twisted within his mind's eye, and colored stars speckled his vision, drowning Pard and her opponent in a sea of green and blue.

"I'll pound you till you soften, I'll fuck you till you bleed."

Her shriek flared Magnus' senses. His eyes snapped open, and for a brief moment, the dots vanished. He Shaped a noose around his neck. It flickered and distorted. A wedge at his scruff, ready to drive the sharp, narrow tip through his neck. It vanished as soon as the man's body jerked for another kick at Pard's still form.

No twitch of her paws came. No swing of her tail.

Nothing.

"Pah, lasted less than me late wife. Aren't you a fucking weakling?" The thug sank to his knees, gripped his dagger's handle with both hands.

Magnus fists tightened around fistfuls of dirt and pine needles.

Pine needles! He Shaped as many of them as he could upon the man's neck, reached within himself.

No tingles came. No exhilarating feeling. Nothing.

The thug swung his dagger at Pard's neck.

"NO!" Magnus bellowed. He poured everything into the spell. His pain, his throbs, his rage, his very conscience.

The wind howled and roared. Twigs snapped above, embers burst above the bonfire as the logs caved in upon one another, and a fountain of red blood drenched Pard when her assailant crashed upon her. The loose threads keeping his head tied to his body snapped, and his head rolled with the wind.

Searing pain, raw and overwhelming, shot through Magnus' frame before darkness claimed him.

***END OF CHAPTER 2***

This chapter is a story in itself. To this date, this relationship is my all time favorite. Pard is literally everything that I'd like to see in my mate: Caring, understanding, humorous where it counts and, most importantly, always positive. No matter her mate's shortcomings, she is able to spin them around and make Magnus feel less self-conscious about his premature ejaculation problems :D That was another fun thing to write about, and I hope some of you guys appreciated it as well. It not only added a humorous touch to their romance, but also made it special in its own way.

So, what are your thoughts on the story thus far? Is it to your satisfaction? Things have ended in quite the sudden and tension-filled manner, but the following chapters are going to do justice to the outcome of this battle, I assure you.

As always, please take a moment to fav/vote this story and write your opinions about this chapter. I love reading and responding to your comments and every fave and comment makes my day brighter and happier ^^

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