A chubby ram and a slender raccoon with fox-like features shaped raccoon sat on the bench, watching intently as the wrestlers ground and heaved against each other. They had all finished their warm ups, and now the twelve jocks had started sparring with each other. The towel boy, a painted dog who went by Doug, sat down next to them, panting heavily.

	“They’re really thirsty tonight!” he said, watching as two black panthers squirmed and gyrated against each other. “And stinky too... Whew!” He wrinkled his nose, glancing to the other observers, then back to the wrestlers.

	“Why do you think that one panther keeps looking over at K’s gang?” he asked, quietly. “It’s like he’s waiting for something.”

	“I dunno,” said the fox-coon, chirring softly. “I’m watching Marrrrcus.” He dipped his chin into his hands, leaning forward and staring obliviously at the lean gray wolf who was struggling to keep his footing against the smaller of the two bulls on the wrestling team. Marcus’s teeth were bared as he struggled against his massive opponent, but the bull hadn’t even broken a sweat. 

	“Come on, puppy,” he lowed, “You forget to suck your boyfriend’s dick this morning? You don’t seem to have your normal strength.” He laughed, as the wolf doubled up in intensity.

	“Screw you, Bruce, I had -steak- for breakfast! Tasted better than your mom!”

	The ram watched with his arms folded over his chest, nodding over to the next match down in the line. “Screw those guys. I know what it takes to win, and Kimbo there is going to be the champ.” Before he could finish his sentence, the muscular hyena had growled and slid his opponents hoof out from under him, landing the handsome blonde stallion on his back with a firm knee in his crotch and his jaws at the prey’s throat. “See? He’s not playing around.”

	The horse slapped the mat and Coach Gronk blew the whistle, the two males unlocking.  The horse sat up, rubbing at his throat with one hand and his bulging basket with the other. “Heh heh, Golly Kimbo, I thought you were serious there for a second!” The rubbing was helping the blonde stud’s basket to subside, a fat length gently relaxing, curving under the stroking fingers.

	“I’m always serious.” The hyena stood, glowering at the loser, before stretching his arms and casually walking away from the mat..

	“Hey guys, what did I miss?” said a newcomer, a small twink of a skunk named Opal. The ram sniffed at him and sneered, mimicking Kimbo’s facial expressions.

	“You smell like books and horny nerds, Opal,” said the ram. “Have you been circle jerking again?”

	“I, uh, n-no? No! I wasn’t invited this time, Aesc...” The skunk blushed and slouched dejectedly as the coach blew the whistle for a second match. A black lion was pounding the mat frantically, pinned  on his chest with his ass in the air, a thick-bodied Bernese Mountain Dog straddling his shoulders with one hand between the lion’s legs.

	“Tony never plays fair”, the dog laughed and bragged. It was true! The dog pulled off of the lion, who rolled over, curled up in a ball, grinning down with a thick erection of his own jutting off to the right of his singlet. “Whoops, thought for sure I had his thigh. Sorry if I squeezed too hard, Drew...”

	Drew’s tail flicked, but he apparently had nothing to say to the big bulky dog.

	“Oh! Ohhhhhh!”, the skunk piped up suddenly. “Roan’s wrestling against Dante!” He hugged the chubby ram tightly. “Oh, I hope he wins!”

	Aesc snorted, shaking his head. “I don’t see how he can’t win... Honeydew’s got so many weak points it’s ridiculous.”
	
	That got the foxcoon to turn and look, suddenly very interested. “Why, what do you mean? Why do you call him Honeydew?”
	
	Doug leaned in with a grin, “That’s what -everyone- calls him, Saila.  Well, at least in the locker room, anyways. It’s cuz of his balls...” The painted dog pointed to the bull, the only one on the mats not wearing a singlet.  He ducked and weaved with his opponent, a short and powerful red-furred horse. Saila could feel doug’s tail wagging, hitting his side with a hurried pace.  “They’re the size of melons! They smell nice, too!”

	The racoon rolled his eyes at the horny towel boy, “Yeah. All Roan has to do is elbow him in the balls and he’d be down for the count.  But Roan is waaaay too interested in getting mounted by that big bull to let himself win.”

	Opal gives Aesc a girly slap on the shoulder, “That’s so mean! Why would you ever... How could you even think tha-”

	TWWEEEEP!

	Coach Gronk’s whistle cut him short as they all looked over intently. Roan was on his back with the bull straddling his chest.  The horse’s had his snout wedged up a leg of Dante’s shorts. It would have been easy to pull himself back out, but for some reason Roan couldn’t quite seem to figure it out. It wasn’t technically a pin, but Coach Gronk was blowing his whistle anyway. Roan’s cock had slipped free of his singlet and was jutting out in the open, with the bull’s thick fingers tugging on the middle of it insistently.

	“ROAN! Disqualified! Put that dick away!” gruffed the barrel-chested orc. Honeydew pulled off of the horse’s cock with a long slow squeeze, grinning down at him the whole time. Roan moaned as those thick fingers came away slick and sticky, shuddering as the bull got up.

	“How is that even legal!?” Opal whined, clenching his little paws together. “Dante totally cheated!”

	“Not by the rules of the game,” said Doug, watching with admiration as the bull blatantly adjusted himself. “It’s totally fine to get hard, or even to handle each other’s junk, but you’re not allowed to get hard in the open. Roan totally screwed up, letting Dante grab his pole like that!”

	Aesc chuckled and shook his head, “I don’t think Roan comes to these matches for the wrestling, if you know what I mean.”

	The coach ordered the stallion to the shower before turning to the last match.  He pretended to be surprised, but he was pretty used to it by now. A sleek muscled gryphon and a lion stood on the mat, grappling tight and straining powerfully against each other. They were both grimacing from the exertion of trying to force each other into submission, but they were too evenly matched.

	Aesc leaned in, trying to make something out.  It looked like the gryphon was saying something into the lion’s ear, but he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying.  Reading lips was never one of his fortes...

	“Hey guys, what do you think he is whispering about?” Aesc asked, nodding towards them

	“Oh, who cares.  Besides it’s not like the best man is going to win anymore.” said Opal, licking his lips as Roan slunks off towards the showers. The horse’s erection had not abated, and he seemed to be staring at the ass of the lion who had lost just before him.  Drew blushed as he walks towards the shower, aware of the thick rod that was following him.

“I’m going to go make him feel better for losing!” Opal smirked as he nipped at Aesc’ ear. “I think he deserves it!”

	This got some attention, as they all turned to look at the skunk, who smoothed his hands down the front of the sleek skirt he was wearing  He felt a hot blush rushing to his ears. “What!? It’s not going to be anything big... probably just a handy...”

	Doug snorted, Aesc laughed, and even Saila shook his head. “I hope you brought plenty of lube!” said the ram, but the skunk didn’t seem to be too concerned!

	To Continue Watching the Matches and see who wins, please turn to Page 84
	To Follow Opal into the showers, please turn to Page 62.

Page 62: The Showers

	The rec center was built to host professional sporting events, and in as much the locker room was huge. Opal felt the doors swing closed behind him, but even though Roan had just walked through them, he couldn’t see them. It seemed empty.

	“Hello?” He walked from one row of lockers to the next. The third row down, he discovered a shock - the lockers were hanging open, almost all of them, and there were duffel bags everywhere, gels and underwear and towels pooled and puddled over the floor like a garish garbage pit. It was unnerving. 

	One of the doors sloooowly creaked close, at the very end of the aisle, and Opal’s head twitched. “Hello?” His voice hollowly echoed. “Is anyone there?”

	No response. Opal felt an almost overwhelming urge to walk down the aisle, defenseless and alone, and see what was making such a mess, but then he realized that that would be a very, VERY stupid move, and there were lots of bigger, buffer males who could be doing such investigation for him. Big sweaty wrestlers who were going to the locker room to take a shower.

	OH! the showers! Of course! Opal reversed his steps, walking quickly back the other way and dipping down into the shower room. Warm steam bubbled out, and the dark tiled room echoed with the sound of slapping water and male voices.

	Opal felt a tightening in his chest as he carefully peeked around the corner. It was very dim, a thick hot fog obscuring most everything, but he could hear two voices nearby. A low purrly growl was the nearest, and Opal could recognize the voice of Drew.

	“Aww, come on, I’m not asking you to suck me off, Kyle, I just wanna make sure he didn’t hurt me is all.”

	There was a soft whicker, the clack of hoof on tile. “You can check yourself, Drew, the last time you got me to play with your balls I had a bad taste in my mouth the rest of the day.”

	“Aww, you were begging for that, Kyle. Come on, they really Really ache, and you have such sooooft fingers...”

	A third voice joined the party. “I can check for you, Drew. I’ve felt ruptures before, they’re really easy to figure out..” Opal grimaced, that was Roan. Roan was playing right into that perverted lion’s scheme! He was going to have to interrupt. He strode right into the room, shouldering past the looming form of the blonde stallion and coming up behind the black lion. 

	“Oh, really?” he snarled, fingers snagging down between Drew’s legs and grabbing hold of his ball-sack. “I’ll check them for you. Here, does THIS HURT?” And he squeezed! 
	
	Drew gurked, if there is  such a word, eyes widening in shock at the fully clothed skunk suddenly handling his equipment, before grinning widely. “Oh yeah, man, is that the worst you got?” He pushed his hips forward, cock waggling in the air. “Why not check my dick, too? I think it’s a little stiff.”

	Opal hissed, dropping the lion’s balls and pushing at his chest. “Horn dog! What’s wrong with you, that’s disgusting!” he strode past Drew, up to Roan, who stood there with his cock tapping his belly, and grabbed it like a handle. “The only one who’s getting checked for Anything is Roan, and he’s getting checked to see how much cum he can spurt inside a tight fox butt!”

	“Is that so,” rumbled a large, deep voice, from behind, and Opal turned to face this new opponent down. It was Dante, completely naked, standing there in all his massive bovine glory. “Roan? You going out on a date with this little skunk pussy?”

	“Uuhhh...” Roan stammered, staring at the bull’s testicles. They were, in fact, pretty damn massive, nearly the size of Opal’s head each, and the bull’s musk rolled them in waves comparable to the shower’s thick fog. Honeydew spread his legs, slightly, letting them hang lower and more prominently, with his smooth tipped bullcock beginning to poke out into view.

	“I beat you fair and square, Roan, I believe you owe me a blowjob.”

	“Well, I mean, it would only be fair,” roan agreed, glancing to Opal, who still had a hold of the stallion’s prick. The skunk glared again.

	“You can have him, when I’m done with him!” the skunk retorted, before firmly walking away, pulling Roan by his erection through the showers. 

	“Ah, Opal, I thought we agreed you wouldn’t be, um, you wouldn’t, when I was..”

	“I wouldn’t what?” said the skunk, leading the horse out through the backdoors of the locker room. He paused, before picking up a rock and putting it in the way, so that the doors wouldn’t automatically lock. He wanted to be able to get back in, after all.

	“Honey, I’m, umm... I’m naked, shouldn’t we -” said the stallion, as the skunk led him just beyond the finely manicured border, to the thick evergreen woods that remained. Instantly it was dark, nothing but deep dark trees all around, the occasional failed deciduous tree sprouting from the ground like a pale inverted root system. 

	“You’ve made me wait long enough.” Opal began to strip, his black skunk body glimmering in the moonlight. He was slender, his brown hair soft and fluffy, making him adorably lithe, especially next to the still-sopping-wet stallion, who was thick and angular with powerful pony potency. 

	“I... uh...” Roan licked his thick equine lips, glancing back to where the looming complex hid in the shadows - had he heard something banging in the distance? Nah... then turned back to Opal. “Well. I suppose I have been rather... mistreating of you.”

	There had been a bang, though, the bang of a door hitting a rock. Dante could be, almost, quite nimble, when he wanted to be, and the big man on campus carefully pushed through the pine branches, following the scent of the two lovebirds. He wasn’t a freak, or anything, but he was horny - his erection brushing away the pine boughs as easily as his shoulders or horns. There they were - necking in a clearing, his little bitch hard as a rock as that fuzzy twat Opal made out with him. Honeydew was not a... possessive sort, but he had earned a fuck from Roan and this little bitch was going to steal it from him.

	He heard a rustling sound. Not from those two, from off to the side, somewhere. He peered, into the darkness, but there was no movement, nothing standing there. Still, it was off-putting. He shifted, gently stepping over the pine needled ground, before moving to the base of what used to be a massive birch tree. The bark was peeling away in pale white sheets, and one low hanging branch was perfect for the bull to crouch over. He let his weight rest on that branch, reaching down to grasp at his erection as he watched the two lovers getting frisky. Hooves was leaning against a tree, as Opal rubbed his belly, kneeling and licking at the stallion’s shaft. Oral. Oral was for losers.

	Someone tapped Honeydew on his shoulder. Fuck. He had gotten caught. He turned, slowly, making sure to angle his hips so that the side of his massive bullcock would get their attention. “Oh, look, sorry, I just haaaapp-WHAT THE FUCK?!”

	Something that looked like a bucket of shit had been dumped over it was standing there, not as big as Honeydew, but somehow much more imposing. A hand wrapped around his muzzle, slamming his head back against the trunk of the tree he was leaning against, while the other hand wrapped around his nut-sack. The fuck? Then Dante realized what was happening - it knew the other two were there, too, and didn’t want the bull getting their attention, because then they’d know they were being watched. Well, two could play at that game.

	Well, around part of his nut-sack, the bull’s testes were among, if not, the biggest on campus, and they were each far larger than this fuck’s hands to wrap around. Honeydew smirked, okay, so the freak was covered in some kind of gunk, but at least he had the respect that the other dudes on the team didn’t. The way he was, it was like petting, over his fat balls, just made Dante’s cock spring up harder. That hand left, the bull’s eyes narrowing as it reached to the ground, picking the end of a chain up.
‘Okay, what the hell is that for,’ thought Dante, as the creature pulled his arm back, and then lashed it. The chain flicked, heavy and rusty, through the air, and he heard the clink-ink-ink-ink of it as it lashed around the tree, thudding against his chest. The hand left the bull’s mouth, to grab the end of the chain, which was a big, rusty old hook, and pulled at it. Tight. The chain winched against the bull’s chest, pulling it flush against the tree trunk as the thing locked the hook into the chain. Oh, how cute, the thing was trying to trap Dante with an old rusty chain. Dante had to struggle to NOT just flex his biceps and snap the links. Let the fucker have his fun, it’s not like Dante couldn’t take him.

	Dante was a little perturbed that he hadn’t seen the chain on the ground, though, had it been hidden by the pine needles? It was old, very old, and smelled salty and rusty.

	“OOF!” The bull’s breath rushed out from his chest, as the creature slammed his shoulder, right into the area below his rib cage, the bull coughing as he suddenly found himself winded. The creature pulled back, then slammed into him again, and grabbed the hook, cinching the chain two more links tighter across Honeydew’s chest. 

	All of a sudden, the bull couldn’t breath. He tried, pulling down into his belly, trying to take deep gasping breaths, but he couldn’t seem to get enough in.

	Which means, when he tried to scream, moments later, he had nothing to scream with.

	The creature had knelt before, pushing the struggling bull’s thighs apart from each other, as it kicked and wormed, and then had slammed both of it’s hands against the bull’s monstrous melons. His fingers were cold, so cold, wet, leeching at the heat that pulsed and pumped through the bull’s testicles. It kept pushing, though, fingers spearing against thick rubbery protective outer shell, and despite all his huge size and bulk the bull could feel crackling sounds. Those melons had nowhere to go except into the tree, so those hands crushed and mashed against them with impunity.

	Dante was too in shock at this point to call out for help, even if he could - he was the strongest man on the campus! So where were his muscles? He flexed his arms, as his cock throbbed, veins popping out along it’s sides as those hands mashed and rolled his equipment against the dead tree trunk. Ugggh, the coldness was the worst, it was like it was chilling his balls, pulling the life right out of them. He could feel them, crackling, the hands crushing, pushing, squeezing in harder and harder. Those fingers curled into fists, and Dante looked down in stupefecation as those nuts knuckled right into the middle of both of his bruised orbs.

	One fist raised back, and then launched into the bull’s right nut. No really, INTO the nut. There was a dull ‘thuck’, as the creature’s entire fist punched through the outer shell and directly into the heart of his testicle, as if his ball had the consistency of red-velvet cake. Warm goop splushed out, clinging in sticky gibbets to the creature’s wrist and forearms. No, no way, how could this be happening? His legs shook as he stared in abject horror.
	The creature punched with his other hand, plunging it into the bull’s other melon, and Dante realized he could -smell- the inside of his balls. He couldn’t, there was no way he could recover from this, could he? Was he going to be a steer?

	His body reacted, reacted the only way it knew how, by desperately trying to fertilize something. His cock bucked up, and started to spurt, a week of unspent jizz spurting out of his cock - and directly onto the creature’s muzzle. Powerful hosing gouts, seeming to wash away the grime, seeming to absorb right into the bristly fur that poked and shone as it was revealed.
	
	The creature unballed it’s fists, opening his fingers inside Dante’s testicles, and he could feel that cold again... only it was an active force, as if the creature’s hands were ice, sucking the heat right out of his balls. He could feel it, pulling and tugging, not just at his heat but at the very, the very source of his virility, as if his masculinity itself was being absorbed! The creature flexed, thickening, mud drying and flaking off as it ‘powered up’ off of the bull. Likewise, the bull’s balls crumpled, shrivelling and wrinkling like over-baked meringue, collapsing in on themselves until the bull’s scrotum clung to the creature’s fists like soft, tender leather. His cock went soft almost immediately, the last sperm he would ever shoot being absorbed into the creature’s skin, leaving the powerful male standing in front of the defeated bull.

	‘I’m gonna miss my next match,” murmured Dante, the sleep of shock overtaking the neutered steer. The creature ripped his hands apart, the leather scrotum wrapped around his palms now like gloves, thick, menacing, pale-furred and boney knuckled fingers jutting from the sealed patches. 
	
	A loud, male moan from deeper in the woods caught his attention, and as the creature peered, it saw the horse and skunk, now.

	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

“Did you hear something? I mean, that time, did you hear something?” Asked Roan, the stallion’s nipples hardening, almost as hard as his erection. The skunk was leaning over in front of him, grinding his ass back against the stocky horse’s flare, trying to grind that fat cap in. 

	“It’s probably the wind,” panted Opal, eyes shut tight as he pushed back against the big cock. The only thing he was really paying attention to, now, was getting Roan’s cock as far up inside of him as possible.

	“It is getting chilly...” the horse chewed on one thick lip, before turning his attention back to the skunk that was trying So Hard to get him inside. “Oh, come on, it can’t be Thaaat hard, Just grab hold of my nuts.”

	“Grab hold of your..” Opal gasped, blinking his eyes open. “What do you mean, like, pull on them?”

	“Sure. You can’t reach my hips, so just grab them. They’re big enough, aren’t they?”

	“Oh! Yes, they’re big, even for a horse, I just...” Carefully the skunk reached back between his legs, to wrap his hands around those low hanging horse apples. “And what, just pull?”

	“Yeah.” He whickered, his cock thickening a little as he felt those little hands pulling and playing with his nuggets. “LIke a leash. Don’t worry, you ain’t gonna hurt me. Oh, shit, I think I’m getting in!” He whickered, leaning back against the tree so he could watch as that svelte furry skunk bum swallowed the end of his cock. 

	Rattle, rattle, rattle.

	Okay, that time he definitely heard something. He looked to the left, looked to the right, and then heard the thumping above his head. He stared up, just in time to see a silvery, glittering hook, maybe as big around as one of his hands, sail gracefully over the bough of the tree above his head. It swung down, for it was, Roan realized, attached at the end to a dark, heavy looking chain, and the hook seemed to be about to hit the ground to his left.

	“The fuck?” He asked, of nobody in particular, but the line YANKED tight, and the hook suddenly swung, stabbing upwards as it swung underneath, and Roan grunted as it snagged him.

	Snagged, impaled, different words with different connotations. The hook poked out of the top of the red horse’s cock, just the tip peeking through like some fancy piercing. It had just jammed up through him with no resistance whatsoever. 

	It yanked, tighter, and Roan whinnied as he found himself lifted off of the ground by his cock.

	Opal moaned out loud, feeling that powerful shaft inside of him twitching, suddenly hardening, and then he felt the horse behind him literally lift him off of the ground, squealing as he felt himeslf being suspended purely with the length of horse cock imbedded in his rear.

	“Ohmagawd geddoff geddoff geddoofffffff!” moaned the horse, the skunk pulling harder on those balls, spearing himself further down on the horse’s cock.

	“I’m trying to get you off, but you’re making it hard, I feel like the Queen’s royal hand-wave right now!” Opal laughed as the horse cursed and grabbed at his rear, trying to push him away.

	“HEY! Fuck you, I earned this ride!” Opal laughed again, finally opening his eyes and looking back at the horse behind him... and realizing that they were BOTH up in the air!

	The horse’s head was thudding against the tree, eyes rolling, froth foaming at his mouth as the chain yanked again, pulling them up higher from the ground.

	“SWEET CLAM BAKE OF BETHLEHEM!!!” Opal screamed, as he realized what exactly what had happened to his cock. The skunk pushed, now, tightly rolling and wiggling and trying to force himself off of the horse’s poor impaled cock.

	CRUNCH!!  (I apologize for the generic onomatopoeia- imagine Steven Seagal eating a head of celery for the approximate sound this would make)

	Suddenly the skunk was hanging below the horse, falling down, and with a tumble Opal found himself on the ground. He stared up in awe, at the stocky horse, swinging around on the chain, with his fat balls caught on the other side of a hook that just wasn’t wide enough to let them through. They were bundled, stretched with the horse hanging under them, and where his cock had used to be, a broken, twisted stump remained. Opal realized, then, suddenly, that he hadn’t actually pulled off of the horse’s fat cock. He shuddered, feeling that still warm, thick heat inside his rear, the horse’s last erection. He jumped to his feet, taking Roan’s arm, pulling at him. 

	“Come on, we have to get to the hospital, they can save you!”

	“NO! MY BALLS FOR FUCKS SAKE MY BALLS!!”

	“OH!” Oh God, I’m sorry!” Opal let the horse go, watching him swing around, trying to grab at the chain he dangled from. He realized, then, that there was someone else, there - just on the other side of the spinning horse, there was a man, wearing what looked like a thick leather trench coat, his muzzle obscured by shadows. He was broad shouldered and taller than the skunk, but not exceedingly so.

	“Sir? Sir! Can you help us? My friend is trapped, can you help?”
	
	The stranger seemed all too willing to. He stepped under Roan, taking the horse’s sides in his palms, holding him steady. He pulled down.

	Opal watched, stunned, as with a long, wet, rending sound, the horse was pulled away from his balls, his scrotum stretching like putty until a wet flap of it just tore free, taking the horse’s sheath with it. Roan collapsed to the ground, curling into a fetal position, and the creature reached up, plucking the torn scrotum from the hook like an apple. 

	As Opal watched, it held those twin orbs in front of it, and then crushed his fingers together, juicing and mashing them into pulp that drooled and ran down his wrist, into the sleeve of his trench coat.

	That’s when Opal saw the hatchet at his side, and the chain that hung behind him. The creature turned away from Opal, grasping and slowly pulling the chain, the hook sliding up towards the crook.

	Opal had a really, really good idea, just then. He was going to RUN AWAY. He bolted, leaving Roan to his fate, sobbing as he did, scrambling towards the Rec Center. Roan would be fine - he was sure of it! Horses get gelded all the time, it was in their blood. He ran past an old dead birch tree and tripped over someone. Screaming, he kicked and thrashed and turned around. It was Honeydew! Only his melons had been juiced! The bull was sitting down, legs spread wide, revealing nothing but a soft, floppy bull-dick over where his proud fruit had once hung. 

	On the other side of the tree, stepping out from behind it? Was the creature. It smiled, and Opal screamed, turning back away. He only had one defense, and since he was already naked - he had to do it. The skunk raised his tail at the creature, closing his eyes and getting ready to spray. He aimed. He fired. Only nothing came out. It was all backed up inside, as if there was something...

	Roan’s Cock was still inside him. The thickness of it must have squeezed against his anal glands, kept him from being able to spray! He reached back, gripping the base of the horse’s severed member, and pulled at it, sobbing at the raw friction as he forced it past his sore, tender sphincter.

	A whirring sound, and a hot thunk, and then HE was sprayed instead! He opened his eyes, finding a hatchet right in front of his face - the creature’s aim had been off, if had tried to hurt him! He smirked, before he realized, that the hatchet was imbedded in an old log... and that directly under it hung a cute black pouch. Two pudgy walnuts twitched their last, before relaxing down low in their pouch. 

	Those were SKUNK-NUTS.

	Opal peered down, between his legs, at the creature who walked up to him, seeing him clearly underneath his dangling sheath. There was nothing there to block the view.

	Opal looked at his balls, and leaned in, giving them a kiss goodbye, before all of his strength left him.

	The creature’s whiskers twitched in the wind, as it stood up, Opal’s soft satiny black pouch being crushed between his hands. It was almost an absent minded thing. Up ahead, almost directly in front of him, was a building. A building with a door cracked open, and from that door, scents were coming. Male scents. Lots, and lots, of male scents.

	Let the feasting begin.