Tarvor stared at the ceiling, sprawled in the unkempt bed, lost in thought. It was the middle of their third day in Yost, and so far things were not looking up. They hadn’t heard anything unusual, no rumors of some great terror or refugees from a burnt out city. Yost was no thriving metropolis but it was no backwater village either, if they hadn’t heard anything yet it meant two things, whatever they were looking for wasn’t nearby, and whatever it was hadn’t done anything too catastrophic. Yet.

Tarvor was happy for that. He’d considered the possibility of coming down from the mountain to find cities already in ruin, it was a relief that things had not gotten that bad yet. One the other hand it meant it was time to move on. Tarvor hoped Shera did not have such difficulty leaving this time around, she was currently downstairs spending time around the innkeeper. Likely she was begging for more food. She’d come to like the man in the past few days, and surprisingly enough the town had come to like her.

Tarvor was legitimately surprised. Word spread through town that a tame cougar was visiting. After people had gotten over their initial fear they had begun to seem more interested than anything else. The tavern had been full every night since they arrived, packed with people curious about the visitors. Tarvor and Shera had been asked by the innkeeper if they wouldn’t mind hanging around in the main hall for a few hours, he said it would help out business and offered to let them stay and eat free in exchange. Tarvor wanted to turn him down, but Shera had insisted. 

They’d spent their evenings sitting in a corner being watched by the locals. A living display, Tarvor thought. Shera relished the attention, but Tarvor would have preferred to be left alone. At least it provided an easy way to hear news and gossip. He would sit quietly and nurse an ale or two while people talked around him, Shera sitting quietly at his side, sometimes on the floor, sometimes in a chair. However the mood took her. Much of the time the townsfolk would invite themselves to his table and make conversation. Tarvor did his best but often his end of the dialogue was stilted and awkward, he really only felt truly comfortable talking to Shera anyhow. 

A few nights of that and it was clear they weren’t going to hear anything. Shera was downstairs making her goodbyes while Tarvor finished packing away their meager belongings. They’d leave a soon as she came back upstairs, though if she took any longer Tarvor had half a mind to go down and fetch her. That cat could drag her feet when it came to visiting other people.  She was turning into a furry social butterfly, secretly it made Tarvor a little nervous. She may only be able to actually speak with him, but she came to love him when she’d never met any other human. She had nothing to compare him to. He hoped she didn’t decide that Tarvor wasn’t really everything she wanted after all. 

All of a sudden the room felt cold and Tarvor’s skin prickled with goosebumps. He wouldn’t bring this up to Shera. If it wasn’t going to be a problem then he was worrying for no reason and nothing bad would happen, and if it was…. Well, in that case Tarvor didn’t think talking would help anyway. He stayed on his mountain for a reason, he was different from most people and talking couldn’t change that. 

He shoved the thoughts from his mind as he felt Shera getting closer, the mental bond between them providing a sixth sense about the mountain lioness’ location. The door was unlatched and a heavy paw pushed it open with ease. The large cat pad into the room with feline grace, nearly silent despite her toned and powerful frame. Her tan fur was nearly golden in the sunlight that streamed through the window. Tarvor lay reclined on the bed admiring her feline form.

Shera stood proudly and let her human admire her. Her face and paws were filthy after raiding the kitchen for whatever the staff would pass her way. Nevertheless, she was every bit as prone to an inflated ego as any other feline, she moved as if she was flawless. Her walk turned into a stride, though she suddenly became aware of a problem. She quickly kicked out a back paw to slam the door shut.

“Tarvor! Why are you naked? What if somebody looked in and saw you flying at half mast, ogling your ‘pet’” She scolded him yet her eyes couldn’t help but slide across his lean form all the same. Pausing to admire his mast while she chided him over it. Her stride turned into a sashay. 

Tarvor looked down at himself in genuine surprise. He hurriedly covered himself with the nearby linens. “Sorry, forgot about that. I was napping while you were downstairs.” He moved to stand up and dress himself but the big cat was closing in on him. She pushed her head underneath the thin sheet and he could feel her breath on his member, warm and powerful as she breathed him in. He laughed and attempted to shoo her away. “Hey now, that’s not helping.”

She purred and pushed in closer, her mouth inches from his sensitive area. “It’s helping me plenty.” Tarvor sucked in his breath as he felt her tongue lick across his cock. He moaned and leaned back, his hand went from pushing her away at the shoulder to gently caressing her neck. 

It only lasted a moment. Tarvor quickly regained his composure and went back to pushing the big cat off of him. As insistent as she was, he still managed to get his feet under him and rise from the bed. Determined, Shera pushed him until his back was against a wall, and continued her assault. 

“Shera, stop. We really have to get going. We don’t have the time for this.” His voice stuttered and cracked, it was difficult to speak with a mountain lion attempting to force her will on him. 

Her head was firmly lodged between his legs, her tongue snaked from her mouth and caressed her mate’s sensitive areas. She savored the taste of him and purred her pleasure. “Surely we have a little time? I won’t take long.” She took him into her mouth entirely, he was rock hard. She felt him throb as she wrapped her tongue around him. “How about we play a game? You keep complaining about not having enough time, and I suck on you until you fill my mouth. Then we can go.” She began to move her head back and forth, running her tongue up and down Tarvor’s shaft. Urging him to stay within her.

Tarvor’s hands clenched involuntarily and he moaned as his lioness worked to pleasure him. She had developed a real knack for it, and seemed to enjoy it as well. Knowing how much she enjoyed it was partially what made him enjoy it so much. He expected it was the same for her when he found himself underneath her tail. Thinking about tonguing the cat’s slick hole was making him excited. 

He glanced out the window and tried to gauge just how much daylight was left. Not enough, truth be told. He’d wanted to leave even earlier but Shera had already delayed them when she wanted to say her goodbyes, so to speak. Maybe the innkeeper would let them stay another night? Probably. Though that would mean another evening gabbing with the locals…

He grunted and stroked Shera’s cheeks and ears, but firmly said “No, I really wish we could. Trust me, you don’t know how badly I wish we could. But we should leave now if we want to get any appreciable distance away from the town today.” Shera was visibly dismayed but she relented. Tarvor fell from her mouth with a wet sound. He missed the warmth of her immediately. Again the room felt cold.

Shera rubbed her flank against his leg companionably, no feelings hurt. “Fine, have it your way,” she said with mock severity in her voice. “As soon as we make camp though, you have a job to do. You owe me.”

Tarvor let his hand trail across her back as she passed by. When his hand came to the base of her tail he quickly ducked beneath it and teased at her slick feline entrance, wetting his fingers. Shera shivered and he felt her excitement rise through their shared bond. She looked back over her shoulder at him and he met her gaze pointedly as he sucked her juices off his fingers.  “The very minute we stop for the day I’ll make it up to you.” Shera watched his fingers with great interest and shivered again. “Try and stop me,” Tarvor said slyly. 

Tarvor dressed quickly and with purpose, they had packed that morning, as soon as he was dressed they were out the door. “Do you know how difficult it is to walk around in leather pants with a raging erection?” Tarvor asked sarcastically through the mental bond. He waved goodbye to the innkeeper, genuinely sorry to see him go. The innkeeper returned the wave with a grateful nod of his head to both him and Shera separately.

Shera watched the man over her shoulder as they walked out the door before turning and focusing on the road ahead. “I have no idea. At least you have pants though, anybody who got close enough could see me practically dripping on the cobblestones.” She tucked her tail tightly to her haunches.

“Nobody is going to look, keep your tail down just in case. I’m pretty sure I’m the only one in this town who wants to fuck you silly.” Tarvor was again reminded of his worries from earlier. He may be the only one who wanted to be with Shera, but he could only fervently hope that felt the same about him. He felt guilty for even considering it and lay a hand on Shera’s head for comfort. Immature fears of inadequacy. Nobody said all fears were rational. 

Shera’s ears perked up. She stood at attention, hackles raised, her claws slipping partway out of their sheaths. Tarvor was suddenly alert, his spear and bow were lashed to his back and inaccessible, his hand went to one of the knives at his waist and loosened it from its scabbard.  He listened intently but he couldn’t hear anything above the bustle and din of busy town streets. The air smelled vaguely of fish from the harbor, his human senses could discern nothing else.

“Shera, what is it?” Forgetting himself, he spoke out loud. The people around him turned toward the pair, hastily scurrying away at the sight of an irritated cougar. A chorus of shouting sprang up as more people noticed Shera’s agitation. The shouting around them turned into a cacophony as Shera’s growls continued to get louder and her hackles stood. Shoppers and vendors alike sought shelter behind carts in indoors, anything to put something between them and the now wild cat. Any chance he had of hearing what Shera heard was utterly destroyed.

Tarvor reached a hand down to grab Shera, trying to get her attention, but before his fingers could touch the cougar she took off like a shot. She ran wildly through the crowd, ignoring people who dove out of her way. Sher turned a corner and disappeared from sight. Tarvor swore loudly, scattering any remaining townsfolk and ran after her. The pack on his back weighed him down and Shera easily outpaced him, he could only follow her at all due to the bond they shared leading the way.

Raw fury coursed through his link to her and he feared for what she had found. She pulled further and further away from him, her consciousness fading to a tiny speck. His pack was heavy and awkward, his chest burned from the exertion. He thought about letting the burden drop, but he doubted it would still be here when he came back. Everything they owned was on his back, to lose it was unthinkable. He soldiered on, heavy muscles on his legs knotting powerfully as he raced forward.

Shera had stopped somewhere ahead of him. She must have, for he could feel him catching up. The ball of emotions in his mind felt more and more substantial as he closed the distance. It still surged with anger unbecoming Shera’s calm demeanor, and something else, something he couldn’t quite identify this far from his mate. He felt himself flagging, exhausted from his hell-bent sprint. He filled his lungs with air in great heaving breaths. He silently prayed to gods he had no faith in, that what they were searching for wasn’t bearing down on his love as he ran.

A scream, a crash, the roar of a maddened feline. He no longer needed to follow the bond between Shera and him. The screams and chaos were unmistakable. Yet it’s continued presence was a small comfort. 

He had long lost his sense of direction, now completely adrift in the twisting streets of Yost. Judging from the dilapidated state of the surrounding buildings it was not the nice end of town. Wooden slats hung loose from the walls, a broken doorframe or two dotted the landscape. Trash and unidentifiable refuse lined the streets, the people who lived here were destitute. A loose gathering of people formed at the entrance to a darkened alley, the screaming had stopped. 

Tarvor’s boot heels left a billowing trail of dust behind him as he skidded to a stop at the entrance to the alley. He shouldered his way past the onlookers, they offered minimal resistance, and finally found his cougar. She sat, calm and unthreatening, in the center of the alley. Nearby a woman cowered in abject fear, whether of Shera or something else Tarvor couldn’t tell. He stepped into the alley and confronted Shera.

He spoke aloud, forgetting himself in his frustration. “What did you run off for!” He knelt next to the lioness and put his arms around her, half glad that she was okay and half preventing her from running off again.  “Shit, Shera you nearly scared me to death. What happened?” Tarvor looked around in the alley, other than the cowering woman it was empty. He either didn’t notice the weird looks the crowd was giving him, conversing with an animal like that, or was unconcerned. People whispered among themselves, a hissing sharp sound full of judgement.

Shera turned her head and met his gaze, her ears flicked back and forth and her eyes were full of pride. “I saved her.” She inclined her head toward the woman who didn’t look like she felt saved at all. “There were some men here. I heard them, faintly. When I showed up they scattered, didn’t even put up a fight, probably just as scared as you were.” She pushed her head into his chest and rubbed her cheeks on him. “That’s sweet, by the way, but I’m no cub.” 

Tarvor’s face screwed up in a grimace, “You heard them? We must’ve been over a mile away. Two! I couldn’t hear a damn thing.” The crowd gathered at the entrance to the alley had grown and the whispers emanating from it grew. This obviously crazy wild man was having a one sided conversation with an animal, the people looked nervous.

Shera pointedly wiggled her ears at Tarvor. “A mere human cannot comprehend the power contained by a fierce lioness.” She playfully mocked, pleased with her victory. She pushed her head under his chin, pressing herself into the nape of his neck. She saw the crowd out the corner of her eye and heard their apprehensive murmurs. At her gaze the group stepped back, a few quickly found something else to occupy their time. “Tarvor, you really need to remember to only talk to me through the bond. Look at them.”

Tarvor looked back over his shoulder, the cluster of people withered further under the combined power of the two sets of eyes. Many dispersed but a sizable portion were willing to run the risk to see how this all played out. There was prime gossip to be had here and they wouldn’t be denied. Tarvor swore under his breath, an increasingly common occurrence lately, and he switched to conversing with his mind instead. He hoped the damage hadn’t already been done. Things were easier if people just assumed he was odd and not actually crazy.

His grimace deepened, “Yeah you’re right, but hold on a minute. I know you care hear and smell better than I can, but that still seems really far-fetched. I don’t think even your hearing is that good, are you sure you actually heard something?” He gave Shera a final hug and stood up, taking another look around the alley. It smelled like death.

Shera shook her head “Pretty sure, I can’t imagine what else it would’ve been. I heard a scream, some yelling, nothing distinct. I just knew I had to come over here.” She paused doubting her own story. “Do you think it could be something to do with my Awakening?” She tilted her head inquisitively. 

Tarvor had no idea, the mysterious event that created Shera and set her on the path wasn’t something he could begin to predict. He simply shrugged at the cat and turned to the woman who had finally regained her composure.  Probably after deciding that she wasn’t about to be eaten by a mountain lion, after barely avoiding being mugged. 

He held out his hand to the woman, she hesitated but did allow him to help her to her feet. “Are you alright? Guess you had a bit of a scare, mind telling me what happened?” The woman didn’t have complete control over her senses yet and her eyes darted around the alley, perhaps expecting her assailants to return.

“I’m not really sure, there were some men. They grabbed me, pulled me in here, threatened me. They were trying to rob me I think. One of them pulled a sack over my head,” she held the dirty scrap up to Tarvor in a shaking hand, “I heard a roar, and the sound of scuffling feet. When I took the bag off there was no men here, just, uhhh, your…?” she gestured questioningly, Tarvor nodded confirmation, “your mountain lion. I guess I owe you two some thanks.” 

Tarvor waved his hand dismissively, “It’s nothing, really.” He glanced at the crowd blocking the entrance to the alley. “We should be going. Come on Shera.” He had to physically push at the pile of people to make any progress. Shera followed him easily, for once enjoying the space people naturally gave her. 

The woman from the alley hurried after him. “Wait a minute, please. You’re leaving so quickly? You waltz in and save me from robbers and now you’re just going to leave? Come on, why don’t we go have a drink or something. I’m Alice.” She reached out and put a hand on Tarvor’s arm. 

Shera turned and bared fangs at the interloper, causing her to jump back along with the rest of the crowd surrounding them. Tarvor barely stifled a laugh, but he met Alice’s eyes coolly. “Firstly, she saved you,” he motioned at the lioness, who had relaxed her snarl when Alice removed her hand. “Secondly thank you but no, we really have to go. I’m glad you’re okay, truly, but we’re leaving.” He turned and left, the crowd parted for him and his lioness, offering no resistance this time.

Alice stood awestruck. It had been an exceedingly odd day, one she would remember.

The pair continued down the road, Tarvor was checking street names and buildings trying to figure out just where they were. The buildings at least looked nicer in this direction, most of them had functioning shutters, for one. As he did so he leaned down and scratched Shera’s head, behind the ears, just where she liked it. “You’re adorable.”

Shera huffed, “And you’re mine.” Her tail twitched back and forth irritably.

“I doubt she meant anything like that, she was just grateful.” Inwardly Tarvor beamed, glad to hear her react with such force given his silly worries from earlier. 

As the hunter and his predator disappeared around a corner one shadow moved and slid deeper into another. Steel glinted faintly, barely seen. Then nothing.

***

 “Alright, so we came to Yost because it was the closet big town, seemed the most likely place to hear something if anything big was happening. Doesn’t seem to have worked though, so where do we go now?” said Tarvor.

They stood at a crossroads, this was the main thoroughfare that ran north and south through town. Shera looked down one road, then the other. Around them merchants hawked their wares and townsfolk bustled about their day. It seemed a large decision to make with such a small amount of ado. 

“North or South, what’s the difference?” Shera mused.

“Not a lot, if one big town doesn’t know anything it’s unlikely another would, news travels fast even on horseback. Any word on something really big would have reached here already. That means we’re looking for something small. At least something small for now. Biggest town to the north is Boist Harbor, right at the edge of the continent, south is nothing but fields and forests until we hit the swamplands, road ends there. People don’t really go through the swamps much. Of course both directions have any number of villages along the road, any one of which might have the information we need.” Tarvor paused in thought.

He continued slowly, an idea dawning on him. “I was the one who picked Yost, it just seemed to make the most sense, but I wasn’t the one who was given the directions in the first place. Or the one who heard a mugging from halfway across a city. Why don’t you pick?”

Shera looked unsure, “I don’t really know. It’s not like I have a voice in my head giving directions, other than yours I mean.” Shera’s face twisted into her feline approximation of a smirk. 

Tarvor chuckled. “Well maybe don’t think about it like that then. What way feels right? If I picked I’d only be guessing anyway, can’t do any worse than that. Maybe you just have a slight inkling for one way or another. It’s worth a chance.”

Shera seriously considered it. She even went so far as to close her eyes and try to focus on instincts. Tense moments went by as Tarvor watched the cat and waited for the slightest glimmer that they had a heading. Her ears twitched irritably and she huffed out a breath. “Nothing, I have no idea. I wish I could say otherwise.”

Tarvor looked at her flatly.

Shera shrugged. “South,” she said, and south they went.

***

 The pair walked in silence through the rest of the town and into the fields beyond. Past tiny stone cottages, past people tending their fields, over gentle rolling hills. The road was wide and well maintained, only dirt this far from town instead of the neatly laid cobble stones, but it was well-traveled.  There were even small patrols of guards that they passed, unlikely to be any trouble this close to Yost. The road had been tamped smooth by hundreds of footsteps as Tarvor and Shera added their own.

Away from the town people were back to taking a wide berth around them, though few people were travelling that day. Merchants driving carts full of wares fought to keep their horses under control as the beasts flared their nostrils, their eyes rolling in their sockets. Farmers on the roadside who caught sight of the big cat quickly moved indoors, rounding up their children along the way, fear quickening their steps. 

If Shera noticed it at all she didn’t let on. She seemed unconcerned, and merrily plodded along at Tarvor’s side. Light hearted determination driving her mood. The stay in Vost had apparently convinced her that at least some humans could get over their fear given the chance, maybe that was enough. 

Slowly the farms became smaller, further apart from one another. Large swaths of unclaimed land grew wild between the well-kept grounds. Tarvor idly stroked the course fur on Shera’s shoulders as they walked, she leaned against his leg. They both took comfort in the physicality. The smell of baking bread wafted from one particularly large farmhouse, the sun was warm and pleasant. 

Trees began to dot the fields and larger farmhouses gave way to smaller cottages as the meadows became forests. The road itself became tough and windy, not as much traffic out this way, shadows dotted the path and thick undergrowth turned the path from a wide highway to a narrow cart path. A merchant’s cart heading in the opposite direction nearly took up the whole road. Though Shera tried to do her best to stay away from the merchant’s horses the animals still spooked and nearly upended the cart and driver when the lion passed.

Shera sulked off into the undergrowth and Tarvor gave the poor man a coin for his troubles, then caught up with the sensitive feline. “It’s alright, I was going to have us leave the road sooner or later anyway. We can walk in the woods just as easily and we won’t bother anybody.” He gently rubbed the lioness’ ears between his fingers. “Besides, it’s more fun if it’s just the two of us anyway.”

Shera shrugged, “You’re right, but I still wish I didn’t scare people so much. Even if I can’t really blame them.” 

Tarvor rolled his shoulders, readjusting the weight of the pack to a more comfortable position. “You didn’t seem to mind scaring Alice.” He laughed and let his hand rest on Shera’s head as they strolled through the forest.

 She shook, making his hand slip off and gave it a playful nip. “Oh so you remember her name? She must have left quite the lasting impression,” she teased.

Tarvor laughed and nudged the cat in the shoulder “Oh sure, those piercing hazel eyes. Who could resist that.” Shera growled quietly. “And her hair! A beautiful yellow brown, it shines golden when the sun touches it just right. Short hair, for a woman, but lovely.” 

Shera hung her head, “Tarvor…” she started, but he motioned with his hand to silence her.

“But I’d say the best part about her is the legs, those powerful hind legs, so sensually defined and powerful, and her sharp claws! Why I wouldn’t want to mess with her.” Tarvor’s eyes glinted mischievously and he stared at his cat, hands on hips. She finally caught on.

The lioness felt her face flush with embarrassment and she moved over to Tarvor, standing on her hind legs and resting her front paws on his chest, her face level with his. She licked his neck. “Okay okay, I get it.” She rubbed her face on his, a feline show of affection. “You’re sweet.” 

Tarvor leaned forward and planted his lips on the lioness’ mouth, drawing her into a long passionate kiss. He wrapped his arms tightly around the feline’s lithe form. Shera stood on her hind legs, stretching herself upright as high as she could, pressing her mouth to Tarvor’s. She loved the feel of his tongue exploring her mouth and caressed it with her own, inviting him to stay together, lips locked to hers. 

Tarvor couldn’t resist, they stood holding each other, oblivious to the world around them. Lost in lover’s embrace. Tarvor’s hands roamed up and down the cats back, scratching her neck and shoulders, rubbing the heavy knotted muscles that lay beneath her loose skin. One hand snaked down to the small of her back and scratched her just at the base of her tail, causing her to raise it by reflex. He felt the vibrations of her purr well up from deep within her chest. It was amplified with her tongue in his mouth as she intently explored him. 

Shera’s heart raced, thrilled to be with Tarvor at this moment, her claws extended and prickled on his chest. One last lustful caress of her tongue and she broke the contact and sat in the grass nearby where a tiny ray of sunlight had filtered through the trees. She glowed with golden fire in the sun. Tarvor couldn’t help but feel they wouldn’t be making any more progress on their journey today. 

Shera closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of the warm sun on her fur. Tarvor surveyed the surroundings, a quiet little clear spot in the forest, dense vegetation surrounding it, more than enough room really. There were worse spots to camp, he’d set up a few snares later and see if he could catch dinner.

Shera’s voice came to him gently, “Tarvor, are my eyes really hazel?” 

He turned to look at the cat, she returned his gaze. She looked so innocent, her hazel eyes gleamed. “You’ve never seen yourself have you? I hadn’t thought of that.” He set his pack on the ground, glad to be free of the burden for a time, and started to rummage through it for something he knew he had. 

“Well, as a mountain lion I never really thought about it. And since my Awakening there hasn’t really been an opportunity. I mean there’s reflections in water and the like but that’s not really the same. Now that you mention it I’m really curious.” She padded over next to him and glanced into the pack, eager to see what he was looking for. 

Tarvor found it nearly at the very bottom, he patted the grass at his side and Shera sat next to him. He put one arm around the cat, pulling her into him and in his other arm he held up a small shiny surface. Just a tiny mirror he’d occasionally use for shaving or making his hair less a wreck before showing up in town. He held it out in front of Shera and looked over her shoulder so they could both see her striking hazel eyes reflected in them. 

“See? Hazel, and the most beautiful eyes I’ve seen.” 

Shera didn’t respond, she was lost in her own reflection. Seeing herself for the first time with her new mind was overwhelming. She twisted and turned her head so she could see everything. She wiggled her ears, twitched her nose, slowly blinked. She bared her teeth, even roared at herself. At her request Tarvor even pulled her lips back so she could see into her own mouth more easily, though he felt foolish doing so. 

Finally, she turned from it and licked at his neck. “It’s funny, I’ve been a mountain lion my whole life, though not always like this, but I never really knew what one really looked like. Other mountain lions don’t really give you the time to get up in their face and stare.” She leaned into him and tucked her head in the crook of his neck, he wrapped his arms around her. 

“Now you know how I see you.” He felt closer to her than he had before. He reached through their bond to feel what she felt for him, and pushed his own feelings through the bond to her. “And how I feel about you.” She purred into his chest and he rubbed her shoulders. “How’s that make you feel?”

Shera purred more deeply as she felt Tarvor’s hands massaged her neck and torso. She slid her tongue from her mouth and ran it along his jawline. “Horny.” She said simply.

Tarvor fell backwards from laughing so hard, Shera lay down with him, chortling her own strange feline laughs. “That’s how everything makes you feel! It was a nice moment, touching even, and you killed it! Dead!” Great deep laughs bellowed from Tarvor, genuine and pure. 

“I’m a predator, killing things comes naturally to me.” She cuddled up next to Tarvor, though his wild flailing laughter made it difficult. “Besides, moments pass, and you did say as soon as we made camp.” She let the implications hang in the air and placed a heavy paw on Tarvor’s chest, stilling his movements. She licked his neck, he moaned a little as she did, a response much better suited to the ensuing activities than raucous laughter. 

“Well I did say that, and truthfully I’ve been thinking about it most of the way here. The sight of you when you’re all hot and bothered can be hard to forget. You’re quite… persuasive.” Tarvor rolled onto his side so he was facing the big cat, one arm cradling her head in a passionate kiss, his other hand travelling south down her belly. Her sensitive nipples lay hidden in her fine belly fur. Shera loved to have them rubbed and lightly pinched, which Tarvor was more than happy to provide.

Shera giggled. “I can be, when I know what I want. Thrill of the hunt and all that, but I think you know what I want right now.” She moaned and kissed him more deeply. Kissing had quickly become one of her favorite activities, her mouth wasn’t made for it in the slightest but in the end that just made it feel much more intimate. Though frankly at the moment she wanted to be kissing a different part of him.

Perhaps feeling some of her desires Tarvor broke the kiss and tutted at his mate. “Now now, you got to do that last time. It’s my turn, don’t you think?” He slid his hand from her nipples to between her legs, Shera relaxed, spreading them and allowing easier access. He rubbed her inner thigh and merely teased at going further. 

Shera groaned and squirmed as she lay against him, eager for more attention. “Hmmmm, what did you have in mind? Am I to be a good little kitty and do as you say? I love that game.” She pressed her pelvis forward, into Tarvor’s hand, attempting to get him to rub closer to home, but he stubbornly refused. 

“You’re far too naughty a cat to play that game, already so eager. Where did your patience go?” He held her tightly to his chest, one strong arm wrapped around her, pulling her in as close to him as he could. All the while he massaged her stomach and thighs, inching ever closer to her most sensitive areas. 

Shera growled at him, bringing her claws into play, they prickled Tarvor’s chest. An empty threat, but it sent a clear message. “You ask for patience? I’ve been waiting since the inn! I don’t care what but something better be inside me soon or we’re going to have problems. Pick a hole and fill me.” She kissed him again, accenting her words with actions. A finger crossed her slick entrance, spreading her juices into the surrounding fur but offering nothing more than momentary satisfaction. Shera was unamused.

Tarvor winced as her claws pushed forward slightly more, leaving little red marks when they were retracted. “Okay, fine, you made your point. I’m still in charge though.” He stopped teasing and positioned himself over the cat. She lay on her back, legs splayed apart. Her feline pussy was overflowing with excitement, it stood slightly agape and a thin stream of moisture dripped from her. Tarvor needed a taste. 

He lay in the warm summer grass, his head resting comfortably between her furred thighs. His mouth hovering inches away from her sweet nectar. She could feel the heat of his breath on her and purred in response, her legs flexing excitedly.  He held the suspense as long as he thought Shera would allow, then lightly touched his tongue to her tender flesh. 

The response was immediate and satisfying. Shera roared at the sensation, more of her tasty fluids leaked from her, caught on Tarvor’s tongue. He teased no more, he began to work across her entrance with his tongue. He was a considerate lover, he felt for her pleasure through the bond and sought to drive her over the edge. Her small clitoris was exposed at the base of her entrance, swollen with arousal, and he delicately wrapped his lips around it, applying gentle pressure.  She must have been thinking about him all day, she was already so ready for whatever he would do to her.

Shera purred and shuddered under his ministrations, an orgasm coursed through the cougar. Her legs quaked from the feelings racing through her. Before it could ebb entirely Tarvor was already pushing forward. Holding her clitoris in his mouth he ran his tongue back and forth across it, exciting her further. He slid a finger into the lioness’ sweet hole, feeling the walls of her entrance contract around him as he did. 

“Tarvor…” Shera moaned. His fingers curled and stretched inside of her pleasantly, increasing the sensation as he penetrated her with his strong hands.

Urged on by the moans of his mate Tarvor redoubled his efforts. His tongue lashed across the cougar’s clit with ever increasing frequency, stimulating the sensitive organ to its limit. He could feel another orgasm preparing to rock Shera and he urged it onward. He slid a second digit into her and began to finger her roughly. Her walls hugged his fingers tightly and he fought against their resistance, pushing in and out of her with deft motions, all the while rolling his tongue across the cougar’s most sensitive spot.

“I’m going to make you cum so hard, naughty cat. I love the way your sex feels in my mouth.” The soft fur surrounding her pussy was damp with the cat’s juices as they flowed steadily from her. His hand and face were slick with the fluid and Tarvor couldn’t have been happier. 

A low growl started in Shera’s throat as another small orgasm built up and released. Tarvor removed his fingers from her and replaced them with his tongue, shoving it inside her and licking at her walls as they convulsed. His fingers, slick with her juices, began to explore her other entrance. Shera growled ever louder as she felt a slick finger push into her ass while Tarvor’s tongue continued its exploration of her. 

Her hot entrance spilt another drop of essence into Tarvor’s eagerly awaiting mouth, he loved her taste and the sounds she would make as he pleasured her. A finger in her ass, gently stimulating her, his mouth still working her entrance, but Shera was not quite at the final tipping point. He brought his other hand to bear, rubbing the lion’s clit roughly, aiming to push her over the edge. 

Again Shera roared, she squirmed and twisted as the feelings of pleasure came almost to the point of overstimulation but Tarvor would not abate. She could feel the pressure building inside her, an unstoppable wave. Her mate continued to tease at her sensitive areas and force the issue, as the edge came ever closer. She moaned, she growled, she purred, all in concert, a discordant harmony.

Tarvor felt it coming as well, he felt it on his fingers, on his mouth and tongue. He sought to bring it forth, to taste his love’s final wave of ecstasy. His fingers worked harder, his tongue more deftly, like a thunderhead it came, and so did Shera. 

Soundlessly her entire body tensed, no growl could escape her throat and neither could Tarvor’s tongue possibly escape the sweet hole in which it was trapped. His fingers stopped their constant stimulation, there was no need to continue now. The force of the orgasm would do the rest, he hungrily locked his mouth to her nethers and drank everything she would give. 

Shera’s claws were fully extended and she pawed at the sky above, she gasped for air as the orgasm released its vicelike hold on her body. Able to take no more she rolled and kicked Tarvor off her and lay on her back in the long grass. Tossing and rolling back and forth as the waves of pleasure coursed through her. She laughed and sighed in Tarvor’s mind, reveling in the feelings that were only just starting to ebb. 

Leaving his mate to her own recovery Tarvor, still fully clothed, began to undress. Freed from the confines of his stiff leather trousers his manhood stood tall and throbbed for attention. Though Shera would need a moment before she could give it. The price of a job well done was his own delayed satisfaction. He looked over at the lion to find her cleaning herself with her tongue, a wonderful sight to behold. He began to gently stroke himself as he watched. 

Shera caught Tarvor watching and carefully positioned to let him see as much as possible while she too watched him. His relaxed motions along his shaft intending only to tease himself while he waited. He needn’t wait long, she knew, for she too was eager to give him even a portion of what he had just given her. Her tongue explored her own folds with feline grace, cleaning the fur that surrounded her entrance, preparing it for more excitement. She stuck her tongue inside herself as far as she could and left it there, gaze locked with Tarvor, teasing him with the sight. 

Like Shera from before Tarvor was in no mood to be teased, he ached for her. If she had recovered enough to tease him surely she had recovered enough to help. He strode over to her with confidence, wearing nothing but a grin.

Shera lifted her head from herself and put her leg back down, sitting straight up her mouth was at just the perfect height. Tarvor took her head in his hands and she gladly opened her maw to receive him. “Just a little,” he told her “I want to be in you for real.” Shera purred her pleasure, and closed her mouth on her human. The vibrations from the sound reverberated up through Tarvor as she suckled on his hard cock, wrapping her feline lips around his shaft and sucking until he leaked his pre-cum for her to enjoy.

“It’s not fair,” she said “you got to taste so much of me and I must do with this small amount.”

Tarvor took his member from Shera, sliding it from her mouth with a gentle pop as it escaped her lips. “Later, for now I want to fuck you until you can’t stand. Turn around, I’ll take you like a real lion today.” Tarvor knelt in the grass behind Shera as she crouched, presenting herself to him. Her body held low to the ground with her hindquarters upturned and her tail held neatly out of the way. With Tarvor on his knees they lined up as if they were made for each other. Tarvor had begun to suspect that they were.

He placed his hands on the cougar’s hips, holding her in position as he lined himself up. She was still dripping wet despite her cleaning from earlier, there would be no teasing, he needed this too badly. As always the lion was exceptionally tight, not built to accommodate a human’s prick, but both of them had come to love the sensation. He held her entrance open with his hands to ease himself into her, his tip pushed at her lips, slick as they were they accepted him with little resistance. Greedily devouring his length until he was fully embedded in her.

He sighed in satisfaction, finally feeling like he was where he belonged. He began to thrust into her, gently at first, sliding most of the way out of her before slowly pressing back in. Her walls held him with a firm pressure, eager for more. He gradually picked up speed, pulling out slightly faster. His eyes watched as the cat’s pussy stretched outward as he did, as if it didn’t want to let go at all. Then slamming back into her with some force, causing her to rock on her toes and tiny vocalizations to escape her throat with each thrust.

He leaned over her, bearing down on her hips with his weight. She was more than strong enough to support him, and more, the feeling of a male riding on her back was an instinctual pleasure trigger for the big cat. He felt fluids soaking his balls as they banged into her with wet slaps when he pushed into her forcefully. 

“You’re so wet for me, it feels amazing Shera.” Tarvor moaned as he fucked the cat. She was so slick it was easy to effortlessly thrust into her with ever increasing speed, Shera pushed herself back into him, urging him deeper. 

As Tarvor arched over Shera’s back he reached a hand to the nape of her neck and grabbed the loose skin there. He felt Shera’s body loosen as he took control of her. She crouched there, pleasure coursing through her, offering no resistance to Tarvor as long as he held her scruffed. The sense of control was empowering, the wet slaps of Tarvor’s hips meeting Shera’s and Tarvor’s own heavy breathing were the only sounds in the forest. 

Tarvor could feel himself nearing the finish, his hard thrusts into Shera’s wet feline pussy pushing every button that Tarvor had. She might not be made for a human’s cock but everything about her felt right. He released the scruff on her neck, “Shera, I’m going to cum.” He moaned, Shera growled in her shared excitement. “Where do you want it?”

The thought aroused Shera further, she nearly told him to stick it in her ass but instead “My mouth, I want to taste it.”

Tarvor felt on the knife’s edge, he gripped Shera’s hips hard in his hand and thrust, hard, into her. He had some difficulty pulling himself from her warm embrace but neither would he disappoint her. 

He pulled himself free, the harsh air on his wet member pushing him back from the edge. “Okay, quickly, turn around.” He commanded. Shera was eager to comply, bringer her face around and in front of Tarvor’s cock. She lay in the grass with her mouth open, waiting to receive.

The brief pause left Tarvor needing more to reach climax, he grabbed Shera’s head in his hands and held her steady. “Close your mouth around me, but hold still.” He said, placing his cock in her mouth. When she followed his orders and held him inside her mouth he began to pump back in forth. Face fucking the lion.

Shera trilled in delight, she recalled this position from a long time ago, when they had just met. Yet back then Tarvor hadn’t finished in such a way, as his member repeatedly rammed into her throat she knew it would end differently this time.

The lion sucked on him and provided pressure as he thrust back and forth in her warm mouth. His balls hitting her chin with each motion. He could feel the urge rising in him again. He held her head steady as he pumped harder.

“Do it Tarvor, cum for me.” 

Her words were all he needed, his body clenched and he pushed himself as far as he could into the lion’s mouth, his cock going deep into her throat. The first spurts erupted from him, much to Shera’s delight. He poured himself directly into her throat, enough so that even a lion struggled to swallow it all, but manage she did. She purred and purred as her mate gave her what she wanted.

His hands groped and pulled at her cheeks and mouth. Shera’s tongue wrapped him and massaged the last amounts of cum from him. His sensitive tip touched the roof of her mouth and one last drop spilled. Shera licked it off with glee.

Tarvor fell backwards, collapsing on the grass, lying on his back. Shera, full and satisfied, walked over beside him and cleaned him further with her mouth. Running her tongue around his shaft and balls, exploring what any crevasse had left to hide.

Tarvor hummed. “I love it when you do that. It feels nice.”

“I bet it does, I love it as well.” Shera’s purr was never ending.

“Can I clean you too?” Asked Tarvor with a grin. “You’ve taken all I have, I don’t think I can get up, but just bring your hot ass over here and I’ll take care of it, you can keep cleaning me while I do.”

Shera smiled and did as he asked, lying on top of him with her head in his crotch and her own entrance perched in front of his face. She felt his tongue touch her feline nethers, he licked in gentle wide lines, cleaning her as a cat would. Or at least, as a man thought a cat would. She loved it. She leaned down and resumed cleaning him as well.

For several minutes they lay like that, Tarvor underneath the big cat, both helping the other. Shera was running her tongue underneath Tarvor’s balls when she saw him starting to grow again. Just as she did she felt one single finger pressing at her tailhole, seeking entrance. She relaxed and it slid into her, she took Tarvor’s hardening cock into her mouth and smiled.

***

Morning saw the pair travelling further. Tarvor’s snares from the night before had yielded no game, and their meager trail rations were unsatisfying. Tarvor was walking on the road again. He hoped to find another merchant who might be willing to share something more substantial for the promise of gold. If nothing came of it he’d be forced to do a little hunting in the afternoon and they would lose some time.

Shera was off in the forest, somewhere to Tarvor’s right. Rather than frighten anymore horses she offered to simply follow along out of view. Tarvor missed having her at his side but he had to admit it made sense. 

So far however, the road had been empty of travelers. The forest rang out it’s chorus of noises, birds chirped in trees, leaves rustled by the wind, Shera smelled any number of small animals, but of humans there was no sign. Perhaps they were further from civilization than Tarvor realized. 

The forest surrounding the trail abruptly thinned into a small clearing, no more than 20 yards across. Knee high grass sprung up all around, free of scrub brush. Tarvor suspected this exact spot had been used as a camping location by many people who had used the road. Possibly even a man-made area, cleared by various travelers as they made use of it. 

A lone man emerged from the opposite end of the clearing, casually walking along the trail. He wore dark clothes and a heavy cloak and no pack. Initially Tarvor was excited to see another person, but something seemed off, his instincts warned him of unknown danger. The stranger stopped twenty or thirty feet from where Tarvor stood and waited. Tarvor stopped as well, unwilling to get closer until he knew what was going on. Warning bells were definitely going off in Tarvor’s mind and he mentally willed Shera to get closer, but not so close that the man could see her. She was still somewhere off to the right.

The stranger spoke, his voice high and weedy. “Where’s your friend, trapper?” He was not an attractive man, his short dark hair was unkempt and greasy, his nose was crooked, probably broken at some point, and his eyebrows dense and furrowed. He had no chin to speak of. In a word, he looked like a weasel. 

“Can’t say I know what you’re talking about,” said Tarvor, his eyes scanning the trees for anyone hiding, to no avail, the forest was too dense. “I’m out here alone, just headed back home after visiting town. Have you been to Yost? It’s lovely there, full of life.” Tarvor prepared for trouble. He subtly pulled one of his long knives from its sheath on his belt and palmed it in the sleeve of his leather jacket. Then Tarvor rolled his shoulders, making sure he could drop the pack quickly if needed. His spear was lodged in the pack; it would take a moment to free it but the stranger was still far away. If he tried anything he would have plenty of time to retrieve it.

His apprehension did not go wholly unnoticed, his nonchalant words not managing to fool the man. “You look a bit nervous there. Calm down, there is no reason for that, we’re all friend here.” There was no friendship in the stranger’s eyes, they were cold as steel. His lips curled into a sneer. With his mouth curled one way and his nose pointing the other the man’s ugliness was accented.  “Now, I’ll ask you again. Where is the cat.” There was an edge to the voice now.

“Cat? Can’t say I know what you mean, I’m just a trapper. Live in the mountains west of here.” Shera drew closer, still too far to help if something happened right at that moment. Best to keep the man talking. “Do I know you? Don’t have a whole lot of friends living far from town as I do, I’m sorry if I can’t recall your face.”

“Don’t fuck with me hunter. I know who you are. Fancy yourself something of a hero do you?” The man’s face screwed up with anger. Red coloring already creeping up his pasty neck and flushing his face. 

“A hero? Not particularly no. Can’t say I’ve ever been much interested in the heroism business. Too much pressure.” Tarvor laughed. “What about you friend. What business are you in.”

The stranger took his hands from the pockets of his billowing cloak, a keen edged knife held in one. It’s blade glinting in the morning sun. He swept his hands in a wide arc, pointing his knife outward, before holding it across his chest. “Me? Why, I’m in the business of hurting people I don’t like! And I can’t say I’m very fond of you. You or your damned cat.”

Well that was it then, there was no doubt about where this was going now. Tarvor shrugged his shoulders and dropped his pack. He bent down to pick up his spear. A shrill shriek flew past Tarvor, a painful bite across his shoulder. He looked up to see more men entering the clearing, eight, ten, perhaps a dozen. Two of them held bows, one with an arrow nocked and drawn, pointing at him, the other with his bowstring still vibrating. The arrow he fired had only grazed Tarvor but the message was clear, they weren’t about to let him get to his weapon. 

The weasel cackled at him, a wheezing high pitched laugh. “Now boys, be careful! We don’t want to end this too soon! Let’s have a bit of fun first.” The man spun in a circle, enjoying his perceived victory. “Oh hunter! Did I not introduce you to my friends? We’ve been waiting so long to meet you! Had to follow you all the way from Yost, almost lost you last night. Yet here you are.” Every sentence that spilled from his mouth ended in a shrill high note. Each one punctuated by madness. 

Tarvor called out to Shera, the cat sensed that he had been hurt and already he could feel murder in her thoughts. “Stay back, stay hidden, wait for my signal.” In the heat of the moment he could feel the feral instincts in Shera, she did not speak to him but instead growled in his mind. “Get behind them, two of them have bows, let me know when you’re ready. When I say go, kill the one on the right.” He felt the cat move with lithe grace. He could feel her presence circling the clearing, she moved with speed but was limited by her need for silence. He’d need to buy more time. 

Tarvor stood slowly, keeping his hands out, unthreatening. A long bladed knife still hidden in a sleeve, unknown to his foes. “Waiting since when? What have I done to make such an enemy?”

The stranger stepped forward, past his bowmen. They slid to the side, keeping their arrows trained on Tarvor, aiming around their boss. “Is your memory so poor? You left Yost only yesterday and you’ve already forgotten? You interrupted me and my boys! Yost is my town; nobody gets in my way!”

Realization dawned on Tarvor. “The mugging? That was you? You chased me all this way and set up this ambush because I stopped you from stealing some poor woman’s purse?” Tarvor laughed out loud, a booming belly laugh as if he wasn’t facing a dozen men. “That’s pathetic!”

A wave of on uncertainty flashed across the weasel’s face, there and gone, like it never was. Then his face was contorted by anger, and his voice grew even more shrill, if such a thing were possible. “Yes the mugging! You challenged my power, nobody gets away with that in my town. I had to come out here and teach you a lesson.”

The man was irrational, an edge of madness tinged everything he did. Tarvor pushed further. “Your town? Yost is barely even a city. It’s a backwater hole on the ass end of the continent and you think you’re so important that anybody who crosses you needs to die?” Tarvor laughed again. “Pathetic! A nobody criminal with a god complex.”

The man literally shook with rage but he restrained himself from attacking Tarvor immediately. “Hmmm, yes, well I’m not the one who’s going to die today. I bet you’ll make a pathetic corpse. As soon as we find the cat, and don’t worry, we will, it will make an equally pathetic rug. Me and my boys will put it underneath that one table, the one with the short leg. It should be perfect.” The goons around the weasel chortled. 

Tarvor balled his hands into a fist, his knuckles white. A roar inside his mind came from Shera, she was ready.  “Alright, well that just about settles it then. Nobody threatens my mountain lion. You don’t get to live through this mistake.” Tarvor gripped the hilt of the dagger hidden in his sleeve and swept his arm wide, encompassing the rest of the men. “And I’ll offer you lot one chance, put your weapons down or you’ll die with him. Find some other rock to hide under for all I care.”

The men made nervous glances at each other but none of them moved to surrender. Likely they believed they could win, but it was no matter. Just putting them slightly on edge was all Tarvor wanted anyway.

“Now Shera! Distract them. Remember, the archer on the right.” 

The roar was not in his head this time, birds scattered from the trees, for a moment the trees themselves almost seemed to bend, though that must surely be Tarvor’s imagination. Most of the thugs turned around, wringing their hands nervously. The weasel, however, his eyes never left Tarvor. That wasn’t important though, what was important was that neither archer was watching him. 

His arm was still held out from where he had gestured earlier, a flick of the wrist and he held the knife deftly in his fingers, easily producing it from its hiding spot. The weasel made to cry out but it was too late, his arm whipped forward sending the knife flying across the short distance between them. The archer on the left sprouted a hilt in his back. He toppled forward, gurgling, choking on the blood that poured into his punctured lung. 

The men turned to gawk at their mortally wounded comrade, distracted once again. Tarvor didn’t even wait to see him fall. He crouched and yanked at his pack, tearing the straps that held his spear in place. It tumbled free and his hands wrapped around it, knuckles cracking as he tightened his grip. It felt right. 

While Tarvor fetched his weapon Shera made her move. Most of the men were not facing her, having turned when the knife struck home, the few that were would not be able to stop her before she reached her mark. She tore from the undergrowth where she had lain hidden. Claws dug furrows in the ground sending tufts of grass and dirt behind her as she leapt forward. A bow was not a weapon for close range combat, the man never stood a chance. The lion caught him in the back and her momentum carried him off his feet and into the dust. Shera’s teeth found the man’s throat, not even a scream escaped before he lost his trachea, torn free by the cougar. There was no room for mercy in her predator instincts.  Two down in a fraction of a second, ten to go. 

Shera ran into the long grass away from the majority of the men, seeking distance and safety from their knives.

Tarvor charged forward, aiming to skewer the weasel in his sunken chest, but the madman was fast. He rolled to the side, and stepped back, not eager to fight Tarvor head on. Tarvor was half inclined to chase the wannabe crime lord but reuniting with Shera and guarding her back seemed more prudent. 

He reached her just in time, the goons had come to their senses and none of them would be caught unaware again. They tried to rush the cat, she was not as dangerous when confronting a man head on. Tarvor headed them off and shoved the vicious tip of his spear into one man’s thigh, driving him and his friends back. “To me, these guys are nothing special but keep your head together. Stick together, we’ll be fine.”

The pair stood back to back as the men circled them, Shera bared her fangs, and swiped at the air. Each of them carried knives, short ones, made for stabbing people in the shadows, not fighting against seasoned opponents. A single man held a sword, but he was obviously awkward with it, unused to the weapon. The weasel stood back and watched, men like him did not fight. Not when they had people even stupider than they were to do it for them. 

Frankly, the thugs were outmatched, Shera had her predator’s instincts, Tarvor had fought most of his adult life. The pair fought together, perfectly in sync, a whirling dervish of teeth and steel. Shera’s claws lashed out, lacerating flesh where they took purchase. Tarvor tried to wound and slow anybody he could reach while keeping them at bay with his long hafted weapon. Any man who hit the ground wounded found himself under a furious mountain lion. Any man who got too slow after taking one too many hits from Tarvor received a spear in their throat, or belly. Tarvor’s long spear tipped with a razor sharp steel claw of his own struck down foes in short order. They had been given their chance to surrender, they had threatened his life, they had threatened his mate’s life. There would be no quarter given. 

The gang member with the sword got one awkward swing in before he was hamstrung by Tarvor and finished by Shera. The ground ran red, Tarvor’s footing became unsure on the blood slicked battlefield. One misstep and he fell to one knee. A brave bandit surged forward, his short knife seeking to strike a vital spot while Tarvor was unsteady.  Inside the range of his spear Tarvor could only try to hold him off, his enemy was too close for him to strike with the spears deadly blade. 

The man’s knife struck thing stinging cuts along Tarvor’s arms, he struggled to find purchase and push the foe away or reach for one of the other knives on his belt. Shera came to his rescue, a flying leap launching the furred tempest into the man, crashing down on top of him and giving Tarvor the time he needed to regain his feet.  The battlefield was littered with the corpses of the dead and the dying, if any hirelings still lived they had fled. 

Only the weasel remained, he had thrown his cloak off to free up his movements. In his hands he held a catchpole, a long stick with a loop of wire on the end. The kind used to catch feral dogs who had been killing a farmer’s chickens. He eyed Shera as she struggled against the man underneath her. 

Tarvor roared, a guttural wordless howl of warning, primal instinct flowed in him as strongly as it did Shera. She looked up just in time for the wire hoop to slip over her head and pull taught. The man underneath her swung his knife wide and plunged it into her shoulder, red blood stained her golden brown fur.

She went wild, she thrashed and struggled against the weasel. She was panic stricken, the harder she struggled the tighter the noose pulled. Sweat beaded on the madman’s forehead but he held the pole fast, insanity reinforced his scrawny body. Shera was able to neither tear it from his hands or get close enough to make him regret holding it, the noose on her neck easily keeping her at a distance. 

Tarvor wordlessly sprang into action. The downed man tried to grab him as he passed, it was the last thing he ever did. Tarvor drove his spear hard into the man’s chest, crushing through his ribcage and piercing his heart. The spear caught awkwardly and refused to come out. Rapidly scanning his surroundings Tarvor spotted the archer Shera had downed, arrow still nocked in his bow. He grabbed the bow and arrow from the ground with a deft movement, nocking the arrow as he raise the bow. Tarvor pulled the string back to his cheek and took aim. 

The arrow split the air, whistling across the battlefield, past the struggling cat to strike the weasel lord in the shoulder, missing a vital spot but causing one arm to lose its grip on the haft of the catchpole. With only one hand he was unable to control the cougar any longer and Shera easily tore free, though the noose had been wrapped around her neck for far too long and she had grown weak. She collapsed on the ground, blood flowing from her injured shoulder sinking into the dry dirt, gasping for air that she could not reach. 

A second arrow was lying at Tarvor’s feet, rage and vengeance guided his hand as he plucked it from the earth and nocked it. Again he pulled the string to his cheek, the feathers of the arrow’s fletching brushed gently against him as he aimed the deadly shot. A brief pause, then release. 

Twisting, twirling through mid-air the arrow flew toward the center of the madman’s wild eye. Yet again he moved with uncanny speed, turning his head at the last moment. Instead of striking true the arrow grazed his cheek. A deep wound, blood gushed from injury, seeping through the man’s fingers as he held his face together. He turned and ran down the road, back toward Yost, ‘his’ city.

Tarvor very nearly followed, but he saw Shera weakly pawing at the grass and dirt, struggling to breathe, and vengeance faded into fear. He dove to her side, pulling a small skinning knife from his belt. His hands shook as he tried desperately to slide the knife between the thin wire and Shera’s skin. Her eyes rolled in her sockets, bloodshot, lids half closed. Finally, he managed to wedge the knife under the wire, he pulled madly at it, trying to cut through it, snap it, loosen it, whatever he could.

He pulled and sawed with the maddened strength of a man trying to save his love. Another roar escaped his throat, he yelled until he was hoarse and more. One final desperate pull and the wire snapped cleanly, finally losing its vice grip on Shera’s throat. The cat gasped, sweet air filling her lungs, but she was already so far gone. Another shuddering breath and her eyes closed and she stilled. 

Tarvor pressed a hand to her great chest and felt it rising and falling gently. She had passed out. Tarvor’s mind was silent, Shera’s constant presence had dimmed. He could barely feel her at all. 

“Hold on Shera, it’s going to be okay. Just hold on.”

The world had gotten darker. 
