Chapter 47: Love Slap

Story by Tesslyn on SoFurry

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#47 of Fox Hunt 3: Sword and Stone

Yeah, fixed this chapter. Should be consistent now.


Love Slap

Chapter 47

When Robin awoke, she was back at the shrine in the grassy field and night had fallen. Mogethis had built a fire on the stone dais and was cooking over it when Robin slowly sat up. Robin was surprised to find a young female fox was with Mogethis. She was also horrified to realize she was still naked. Thankfully, Mogethis had placed a bearskin over Robin, and Robin clutched it around her shoulders as she sat up and pushed the red curls from her eyes.

"The goddess has spoken?" Mogethis said, not looking at Robin as she poked their supper. It was a skinned hare roasting on a spit, its mouth open in silent agonies it could no longer feel. Vegetables and roots were also speared on the spit, roasting alongside the hare. The sight made Robin's belly rumble.

"She has spoken," Robin confirmed, her voice hoarse and raspy. She cleared her throat and glanced curiously at the stranger.

The vixen was red - completely red, with no socks, white or otherwise. Even the tip of her tail was red. She wore a torn deerskin dress and was sitting stiffly with her paws behind her back, the wrists bound with magical light. Her vibrant red fur was dyed in curly white tattoos that seemed to almost glow in the dark of night. Robin thought the stranger quite beautiful. Her red mane was so long, it swept the ground in a single plait, and licks of it fell in bitter green eyes. She glared at Robin but said not a word. Robin was amused to notice she wasn't completely red after all: there was a tiny bit of white on her chin.

"What does Yfel command?" Mogethis asked. She slowly turned the spit, her long lashes angled down as she appraised the roasting meat.

"She wants me to take Hildrith'el's place . . . as the First Light," Robin said to her lap.

"Of course, she does."

The sorceress didn't sound the least bit surprised, and Robin looked at her quickly. She was about demand why Mogethis had never told her what Yfel wanted but was surprised to see the soft pity in the fox's eyes.

Mogethis gruffly looked away again, fixing her eyes on the hare. "How do you feel about that, girl?"

"Confused?" Robin said bitterly.

Mogethis nodded. "Once you are goddess of the world, all will become clear."

Robin stared at her lap. Yfel had told her many things about Skkye, but she still wasn't certain she wanted to go. None of it seemed real. It was like some waking dream. Or nightmare. She suddenly missed Corene's warm arms, Corene's sweet scent and soft, loving voice, and she felt like a pup for wanting her mother. Did her mother even want her?

"Of course, she wants you," Mogethis said, emerging from Robin's thoughts. Or perhaps just hearing the surface of them. She kept slowly turning the spit, her ears forward for danger, her eyes flitting every now and again to the prisoner, dark with a threat.

"Of course, she does," Robin said sarcastically, but she looked up to find Mogethis watching her intently.

"Your mother weeps for you, child," Mogethis continued. "In her heart, she will always weep. . . . That will not change. It is a mother's burden." Mogethis swallowed and dropped her eyes, and Robin got the feeling she was speaking from personal experience.

Hugging the bearskin tight to her shoulders, Robin curled her toes against the cold stone, against the deep carvings that trailed line after line like the pages of a book. The stone flooring of the shrine was covered almost entirely in the words, and she realized that not only could she understand ancient fox tongue, but she could also read it. The shrine was telling a story. Robin slowly read aloud: "Long ago, the Fen'ec brought war on Heaven, but the gods prevailed, and the Fen'ec were cast down. In fury and in vengeance, the gods sent their creatures where they could not walk, sent them to bite and to tear the Children until their blood cried from the earth. . ." Robin's voice trailed away when she felt the eyes of the prisoner on her. She quickly lifted her eyes and locked gazes with the young vixen. The red fox was looking at her with something between curiosity and awe. Her eyes danced over Robin, probing, searching. Because her arms were locked behind her back, her breasts jutted, and Robin found it very distracting.

The vixen seemed to notice Robin's discomfort. She pushed her shoulder up, letting the torn strap of her dress fall. Robin could see her cleavage rise from the deep neck of her dress and looked away when her clit throbbed.

It took Robin a moment to realize Mogethis had been watching the silent exchange. Glaring at the prisoner, the sorceress lifted her small paw and swiped it in a brutal sweeping motion. The prisoner's head snapped to the side as if she'd been slapped and she cried out in pain as blood sprinkled from her lip. Robin's mouth fell open.

"Mogethis!"

"She is dangerous, girl," Mogethis warned Robin, still glaring at the prisoner. "More dangerous than you can understand. You stay away from her." She looked Robin in the eye for several seconds before looking away again.

Robin didn't believe the girl was dangerous at all. Her head was still down from the telekinetic blow and her breasts heaving. She looked stiff and afraid, so young and pretty and helpless. Her long lashes fluttered out tears and her lip trembled as blood slipped down it. Robin wanted to hold her. Perhaps if the girl weren't so small, she wouldn't have felt such pity for her.

"Don't hurt her, Mogethis," Robin scolded.

Mogethis shook her head darkly and her lip curled in a sneer. "As if she were not here to hurt you! Do not let a pretty face disarm you, girl," she warned and went back to turning the spit. "Do you know how many times I have used such a trick? How many times I have managed to kill and run because some foolish enemy decided I had nice tits?" She lifted her chin, looking proud of her trickery. "They were usually male, but a few females fell for it as well. Foolishness is no respecter of gender." She glared at the prisoner and looked reprovingly at Robin. "And neither is lust."

Robin felt her cheeks getting hot. "I-I don't like her . . ." Robin bit her lip: she didn't know if she could say "tits" in front of Mogethis. Mogethis had watched over Robin and Zeinara when they played together as children in Wychowl. The white vixen was too much of a mother figure to her. She swallowed, watching as the prisoner's breasts heaved, and she couldn't deny it: the girl had nice tits. Very nice. They were firm and high and still riding gently up and down as she sought to catch her breath. Her nipples were hard in the cold and pressed through the fabric of her dress.

Robin dropped her eyes and pulled the bearskin tighter around her naked shoulders. "What about Jonathan?" she muttered, red curls tumbling in her eyes. "Does he miss me?"

Mogethis sneered so hard that her face contorted, and Robin felt a secret thrill of triumph. She knew bringing up Jonathan was the easiest way to steer Mogethis away from the subject. In the past, Mogethis had nearly come to foaming at the mouth whenever Jonathan made an appearance at Wychowl, and she would become beside herself with rage if ever she had to acknowledge his existence.

Present-day Mogethis turned the spit with tight lips and her eyes glittered fury. "Yes," she hissed after a long moment of seeming to choke on her own rage. "By the grace of Yfel, I have seen it in my dreams. Jonathan has turned the world on its head to find you, at the cost of many lives. My kin are slain, pointlessly and greedily, because he has revealed the truth my identity to the kingdom. Tch. A selfish and foolish thing to do. As if that would bring you home. More likely it will turn the other dogs against him."

Robin stared at the fire, her mouth slightly open in amazement. "Then we have to do something! If I could just talk to Jonathan, tell him I'm alright --!"

"No!" Mogethis said at once.

Robin's face darkened. "Why? Because Yfel said so!"

"Because I said so!" Mogethis growled - so viciously that Robin went still in amazement. Mogethis swallowed guiltily and snapped a crisp leg off the roast hare. She put it on a smooth stone and passed it to Robin. "Eat, girl. It is a long journey to the next shrine."

Robin took the offered food but didn't think she could eat it. Her mind was too busy, her thoughts restless. So much was happening, and it seemed there was nothing she could do to help. She nibbled idly and thought of Jonathan and Corene. Like Mogethis, she saw them in her dreams, weeping for her, missing her. She'd been trying to decide for days if it was her own wishful thinking or if she were seeing something real. She took an unhappy bite of the hare leg and wished she would dream of Zeinara. What was Zeinara doing right now? Zeinara . . . with her pretty blue eyes . . . with her long golden mane . . . with her firm, high breasts . . . Robin's eyes wondered to the prisoner's breasts again, and it took her a moment to realize the prisoner was staring at her - staring at her food. Her green eyes burned bright with hunger and she licked her lips. When she realized Robin had noticed her hungry staring, she dropped her eyes.

"What are you doing?" Mogethis demanded when Robin went to the prisoner. "Don't waste your supper on that whore! She is all but dead!"

Robin knelt beside the prisoner and offered the hare leg to her lips. The prisoner looked at her with fear, as if she expected Robin was only toying with her, but when she realized Robin was sincere, she craned her neck and tore the roasted flesh from the bone ravenously with her sharp, white fangs.

Robin watched sympathetically as the girl ate eagerly, munching and moaning as if she hadn't eaten in many hours. Her eyes softened, and after hesitating, she touched the prisoner's cheek where Mogethis had slapped her. The girl halted, chewing slowly as she looked at Robin in surprise. Robin averted her eyes and went back to her seat at the fire. She wrapped herself tightly in the bearskin and could feel the prisoner's eyes on her. The girl was looking at her in confusion, but her eyes were also . . . affectionate. Robin looked at her toes.

Mogethis shook her head darkly. "Don't be foolish, girl. You feed her our hard-won supper when I am only going to kill her before the night is through."

The prisoner bowed her head.

Robin looked at Mogethis in shock. "Why!"

"Because only a _fool_lets their enemy live!" Mogethis snapped.

Robin didn't have a retort. If what Mogethis was saying was true and the prisoner had really come to kill her, then it would indeed be foolish to leave her alive. Releasing her would only mean allowing her to return to one of Ayni's shrines, where she would report their location to the goddess, as well as everything they had said to each other. And yet somehow, Robin still didn't want to hurt the girl.

"What about the fire in the sky?" Robin said after some time. She lifted her eyes and looked at the distant world of S'pru. The yellow orb was licking with red flame and had been for several days.

"I know you want to help the world, girl," Mogethis said patiently, "but you can not do so until you are sitting on the throne in Skkye. Do you understand?"

Robin looked at Mogethis curiously. "So . . . when I am the new Light, I'll be able to stop what's happening to S'pru? Protect the foxes on Aonre?"

Mogethis smiled, her eyes on the roasting hare. "You will be able to do whatever you wish."

Robin shook her head. "The entire world is madness right now, and Yfel, the goddess of chaos, is the only god trying to stop the chaos? I don't understand."

Mogethis cut a slice of hare with her knife and ate, picking at the meat with long nails and chewing slowly. She lifted her eyes to look at Robin, and the firelight was reflected in her blue gaze, like flame touching ice. "What is there to understand, girl? Yfel is not only the goddess of chaos. She is the storm, and she is the eye at the center of the storm. She is the calm, but she is the tempest. The world has_to have order for there to be chaos. Someone _has to bring order to Heaven and Earth before she can revel in the blood when both crumble."

Robin lifted her eyes to S'pru and glared. "I'll definitely be bringing order. What is happening up there? Why is it burning!"

"Her name is Nerayn," Mogethis answered darkly. "She rules in the name of Maret. And she is a fool."

Robin looked quickly at Mogethis. Maret was Zeinara's "mother." Why would she attack S'pru when she already had Aonre? When Robin asked as much, Mogethis only glowered more.

"My, but you are talkative now, child," the white vixen said, irritably shaking her head. "I think I am starting to prefer when you were silent."

"I was unhappy," Robin said bitterly. "I'd just left my entire world behind and for what? I didn't know what was expected of me or what was happening. How would you have felt?" She scowled. "Do you feel?"

Mogethis glared at the fire but otherwise ignored Robin's anger. "Maret seeks to claim the mortal realm," she said, picking at her fang with a long tongue, "which means claiming both worlds in the mortal realm. She has always wished for Zeinara to rule Aonre . . ." Mogethis blinked sadly, bitterly. "Zeinara has always belonged to Death, not to Madness." She shook her head. "I should have killed her when she was a cub. It would have been the merciful thing to have done."

"No, it wouldn't have been!" Robin cried, completely appalled.

Mogethis shook her head again. "Silence, girl, about things you do not understand. Yfel will likely send my kind to kill Zeinara while she is ruling on high. Perhaps to put Yeneneshe in her place. Perhaps for the hell of it. Don't you understand? Zeinara could have been spared of this. But she won't be. Because I wanted her, because I was selfish and I wanted . . . ." Mogethis halted as if she had said too much and her lip trembled with a sadness that startled Robin. "I suspect Zeinara will rule this world before the end of it all. And that may not be such a bad thing. But Yfel is still bitter that my sister is not on the throne in Thalsin. It's what we bled for, what we died for. We didn't even want a new empire. We were happy in our forests. But Yfel commanded . . ." Mogethis raised her eyes and looked at Robin intently. "What do you know of the wars, girl? The ones that began as Yfel stirred you in your mother's womb? The dogs call our battles with them 'raids' but it was a full-scale war that lasted almost five years. Long after Azrian lifted S'pru into the sky, my kin kept fighting." Mogethis lifted her chin. "They will never admit that it was a war. We are not their equals. We are like pests scurrying under their feet." She looked bitterly at the fire.

"I know nothing about it," Robin admitted. No one around Howlester ever spoke of any wars, but every now and again, someone would make mention of "fox incursions" and there would be much arguing and ranting, crying and raving. Especially if it was mentioned in court. Jonathan would sometimes speak of it with great rage when he was drunk. The subject seemed such a sensitive one that Robin quickly learned never to ask her parents about it. One time she tried to ask Grandfather Charles, and he patted her head as if she were a little pup and told her to leave the painful past in the painful past. And he looked so tired and unhappy when he said it, she decided never to bother him with it again.

"Twenty years ago," Mogethis said to the fire, her voice low, her eyes almost dreamy, "Great Yfel called her clans to gather in the heart of Poston, and she commanded us to march on Varimore. A time was coming, she said, of great chaos and confusion, and in that confusion, her children would rise, would restore order only to bring chaos. The other gods and their children had failed. It was up to us to take the seat of Varimore, to take the throne." Mogethis proudly drew herself up. "My tribe was chosen to rule from Wychowl. My youngest sister was to have become empress of our new empire, and I was to watch over her and guide her in her reign. She was just a little cub at the time, perhaps six years old." Mogethis blinked sadly. "We were to take the city of Thalsin, take the throne by force. Etienne was to have died, and Yeneneshe was to have taken his place. We failed. We numbered more than the dogs easily and taking Thalsin should have been a simple thing. When foxes come together, we are a mighty force, and this is why the dogs keep us scattered to the winds. We failed because Ti'uu protected the dogs. Because Ti'uu," Mogethis said through her fangs, "wanted to keep his precious Azrian safe. She was imprisoned in Wychowl when we gathered to take Thalsin, and Ti'uu reached through to protect her life. I saw it . . ." She stared into space, her eyes haunted, ". . . in my dreams. Many dogs are foolish enough to worship the God of Tears. They helped the mastiffs to find my kin. And so my kin were hunted and captured . . . and they were killed . . . and it was all for nothing. All . . . for nothing." She blinked sadly and fell silent.

Robin didn't know what to say. She had never seen Mogethis so sad. And the fact that Mogethis wound up working for Etienne - the very one she was ordered to kill - must have filled her with great anger and shame. She had not only failed her goddess but had also served the enemies of her goddess, standing as a guardian to Maret's child, working as a nanny to the one she was to have murdered in Yfel's name.

"Why Yfel entrusted such a precious task to me," Mogethis said, looking with soft eyes at Robin, "I do not know. But I know this: I will not fail this time! You will reach the second shrine. And you will reach the SummerValley. And you will ascend in all glory to Heaven. And Skkye will sing your name."

Robin swallowed hard. She wasn't certain she wanted anyone singing her name. "What's at the next shrine?" she asked, staring thoughtfully at the fire.

"The SummerValley," Mogethis said and said no more.

Robin was silent as she let the vixen's words sink in. Yfel had told Robin about the valley, and the way she had described it, it sounded like the end of the world. So they were really going there. She was really going to be goddess of . . . everything.

Mogethis got to her feet and drew her knife. Robin went rigid when the sorceress marched at the prisoner, grabbed her by the mane, and ripped her head back. The girl cried out when Mogethis placed the knife to her throat but otherwise made no protest. Her green eyes glared at the stars, but she was calm and resigned to her death.

"Mogethis!" Robin leapt to her feet. "What the hell are you doing!"

Mogethis was one swift motion from slitting the girl's throat, but she cocked a brow and looked at Robin witheringly. "Did you not hear what I said before? This girl came to _kill_you, Robin. She was sent by Ayni to disrupt Yfel's plans. She must fail. Do you understand?"

Robin shook her head and her red curls tossed. "No! We don't have to kill her!"

The prisoner blinked in surprise, but Mogethis glowered.

"Yes, we do," the sorceress corrected in her clicking accent. "I was charged to protect you. There can be no mercy."

Robin's breasts heaved. "Leave her be! She could have - information!"

Mogethis sneered. "What could she tell us of Ayni's plans that we could not learn from Yfel? What _use_is she to us?" She ripped the girl's head back harder, and the girl cried out, frightened and pained. The blade was pressed very tight against her throat, and Robin saw a line of blood appearing.

"Let her go, for god's sake!" Robin burst. "I'll make use of her! I'll think of something!"

Mogethis made a noise of disgust, but Robin was surprised when she let the vixen go. The young girl fell to her face on the stone and lay there weakly coughing as blood dribbled down her throat and into her breasts. Her dark blood spattered lightly over the writing and fell into its cracks, until the story carved in the stone floor looked as if it had been written in blood.

Mogethis tucked her knife away and turned back to the fire, shaking her head in disgust. "You are just like all the softhearted Kingsleys," she hissed, "even if you aren't truly born of them. And it will be our undoing. In the end." She went to the hare and cut off another piece for herself before sitting down.

Robin ignored Mogethis and helped the girl sit up. Her throat was dribbling blood continuously. Robin closed her paw over the girl's neck, and after concentrating a moment, her fingers shimmered with light, and she knew the girl's cut had been healed. The prisoner looked at her in surprise.

"You . . . protected me," the girl said in amazement. The blood on her lip was still wet and glistened in the firelight. Beyond her, Robin could see Mogethis scowl and bitterly shake her head.

"Yes," Robin said and dabbed the girl's lip clean with the corner of her bearskin. "I'm sorry she hurt you," she whispered.

"My name is Vitorra," the prisoner whispered to the stone floor. She was perched on her knees before Robin and kept her head down. The strap of her deerskin dress was still hanging over her shoulder, and her breasts were practically pouring from her dress. "I am a servant of Ayni, as your guardian has said," she continued solemnly, "born in fire and blood to serve the Wings of Rage."

Robin frowned, not understanding. "So why didn't Mogethis just kill you if you're so dangerous?"

Mogethis snorted. "That bearskin you wear? It belonged to her guardian."

Robin was so startled, she threw the bearskin off.

Vitorra seemed to become sad and angry when Mogethis mentioned the bear, but when she saw Robin's naked breasts, she gawked. Horribly embarrassed, Robin clutched her great breasts in fistfuls and looked for some place to hide. She didn't want to wear the bearskin again, as it seemed to make Vitorra sad, and she hated that Mogethis appeared to be silently laughing at her.

"Killing the bear exhausted me, and your pretty little friend there surrendered. She begged for her life, in fact."

Robin lifted her brows. She hadn't expected that.

"Take the prisoner's dress," Mogethis said with a wave of her paw. "She is going to die anyway. Take it."

"She is not going to die!" Robin snapped, but she fell silent when the prisoner got to her feet.

Vitorra shrugged her shoulder, and the second strap of her dress fell down. Without support, her torn dress slipped away around her ankles, revealing her soft, naked curves in the firelight. Her breasts were . . . perfect. Round and swollen and high. Like small, ripe melons. Her little pink nipples jutted, tiny and rock hard. Her waist was narrow and her hips round, her tail fluffy, her feet small. Robin looked at her and thought she had been made for her. She was everything Robin had ever wanted, everything she had dreamt about while touching herself in her bed. That Vitorra seemed sweet and gentle on top of that was too good to be true.

For several seconds, Robin didn't think she could move. Vitorra smiled shyly at her and dipped her head, wisps of her long red mane falling across bashful green eyes.

Robin swallowed hard, and unable to take her eyes from Vitorra, she slowly sank to her knees and reached blindly for the dress around her ankles. Her paw missed several times and Vitorra giggled. Robin felt her cheeks getting hot. She finally tore her gaze away and looked down. The dress was piled around the girl's ankles and she hadn't stepped out of it. Robin took a hold of the dress, and Vitorra twisted her legs together, seductively rubbing her thigh near Robin's cheek. Robin hesitated and placed her paw on the back of Vitorra's thigh, running her fingers up her soft curves and to her backside. She squeezed the girl's plump cheek, then gave it a playful slap that made her squeal. Robin smiled and nuzzled her cheek against Vitorra's thigh. She was so soft. Her eyes locked with Vitorra's. Vitorra's smile faltered, and they stared at each other absently.

"Stop this at once!" Mogethis barked, and Robin jolted back to reality. "Put the dress on," Mogethis added darkly, "and then go so sleep, Robin."

Embarrassed, Robin backed away from Vitorra, turned her back, and pulled the deerskin dress over her head. It was one size too small and clung tightly to her curves. Her breasts were enormous compared to Vitorra's and her hips were wider. When she turned around again, Vitorra was kneeling and staring up at her in awe.

"I never dreamed," Vitorra whispered breathlessly, "that you would be so . . . beautiful."

Looking down at Vitorra from her mass of red curls, Robin's heart skipped a happy beat and she smiled.