The thick grass of the savannah weaves with the wind, the long, dry fronds rustling together. The late-afternoon sun blazes down, coloring the plains into burnished gold. The dirt beneath Matthew’s feet is packed hard and dry. The mouse leaves no footprints as he winds through the billowing stalks. The tall grass comes to his shoulders, and he bows his head as he walks, only the movement of the grass betraying his location.
	Matthew stops to rest on a smooth, flat rock, warm from the sun. He knows he’s close to the lions’ territory; he can still feel the echo of the male’s roar in the pit of his belly, excitement and desire coiling hot in his gut.
The sigil of Salamand tattooed along his abdomen sears in response and Matthew hisses, tugging up the hem of his loose-fitting shirt. The crimson swirls of the tattoo flare, pulsing in time with his quickened heartbeat. He traces a fingertip over its shape. It flickers like an electric shock, heat lapping out at his finger. He can feels its hunger, its impatience, its longing. He needs to reach the pride soon, to lure them out to sink their long, hot teeth into him, to toss him between the fierce, wild males like so much fresh meat, torn apart by claws and cocks alike. Heat begins to pool in his groin and one wandering paw moves unbidden to the lacings on his trousers.
A high, yipping cackle breaks Matthew from his reverie. He springs to his feet, standing atop the rock to get a better view of the surrounding grasslands. A distant tuft of grass waves in opposition to the wind: an unseen figure stalking through the brush.
Matthew focuses on its movements—too erratic and hurried to be one of the lions from the nearby pride. It’s some other predator, a jackal or hyena, not the broad, golden jaws and thick, barbed cocks he’s longing so desperately for.
The breeze ruffles Matthew’s fur, carrying his scent upwind. It's rich with pheromones, the sigil’s charms amplifying its potency and power. Nearly two hundred yards away, the figure pauses. It takes a pace first to one side, than the other, so painfully slow that for a moment, Matthew thinks it's lost his scent. He breathes a sigh of relief, moving to jump from his perch. He loses his footing on a dusty crevice in the stone, windmilling his arms wildly to keep his balance. Despite himself, he lets out a squeak of surprise. The movement in the grass stills.
Matthew freezes in place, feeling the distance yawn between himself and the predator. Even the wind seems to hesitate as the seconds drag on in agonized silence.
The figure bolts first, abandoning its serpentine winding in favor of sprinting directly for the little mouse.
Matthew has only a moment to see its spots, think hyena! in a blaze of panic, and scramble away. His soft pawpads churn the hard earth for purchase as he tries to propel himself deeper into the brush. A cloud of fine dust rises in his wake. Finally his short, blunt claws find traction and the mouse streaks off into the golden tufts of grass.
He runs blindly, heedless of his direction. He can hear the rapid footfalls of the hyena closing in rapidly: first a hundred yards, then seventy, then fifty...
Grass whips across Matthew’s cheeks as he runs, eyes watering from the sting of the wind. His heart pounds in time to his footfalls, his throat tight from his labored breath. He ducks and dodges, praying his agility will throw his pursuer. The hyena is close enough to smell, the heady male scent of sweat and musk and fresh blood.
Matthew’s feet tangle and he goes down hard, skinning the soft pink pads on his handpaws. He yelps in pain, trying to force himself to his feet. The hyena breaks through the grass and leaps.
The hyena lands hard on Matthew’s back, pinning him by the shoulders. Matthew shrieks, one handpaw clawing at the ground, trying to drag himself away. The hyena attacking him is enormous, nearly two feet taller than him with thick muscle cording his arms and legs. Matthew would think him a feral if not for the tight black trousers and dyed indigo mane.
The hyena leans down to whisper against the shell of his ear. “You’re a long way from home, little mouse. And so close to the lion’s den.” His accent is rich and unplaceable. “Come back to my home. My brother and I will keep you safe.”
Not giving Matthew a chance to respond, the hyena plucks him up as easily as a child, throwing him over his shoulder. Matthew kicks his feet uselessly for a moment, the hyena squeezes his thigh to still him. “Hush,” he chides gently. “It’s not far.”
Matthew squirms futily in the hyena’s grip as he begins to walk back into the brush, away from the scent of the lion pride and back towards a copse of trees.
“Let me go!” Matthew cries, striking the hyena’s back with his small fists.
“Oh, I don’t think so. Pretty boy like you, we’re going to have so much fun together.”
	The hyena’s camp is a rough lean-to tent pitched against a gnarled acacia. At first glance, Matthew thinks it’s made of canvas. He realizes with a jolt that it’s skins stretched and stitched together. He begins struggling anew, wriggling in the hyena’s grasp.
	The flap of the tent sweeps to one side and a second hyena steps out into the dying light. He is nearly identical to Matthew’s captor, tall and broad-shouldered with dark spots freckling his bare chest. His mane is dyed a brilliant, sunrise pink. He raises one arm in greeting.
“I’ve brought you a gift, Esau.” The hyena tosses Matthew unceremoniously to the ground. The mouse scrambles up to run, but the pink-haired hyena—Esau—grabs him by the tail, yanking him back.
“Oooh, he looks delicious, Iacob. Soft as the sky.” The hyena licks his chops as he looks the little mouse up and down, as if trying to determine the choicest bite.
“Please,” Matthew begs, his voice piteously small.
Esau gives the mouse a hard shove between his shoulder blades, sending him staggering into the dim tent. There is a flickering, smoky fire pit, a pair of bedrolls, and little else. Esau pushes him again, sending him tumbling to his knees.
The twin hyenas kneel over him, their long, sharp teeth bared. Their claws are hard and blunt as they pull at his clothes, tearing his shirt to ribbons. The strips of fabric fall away, revealing Matthew’s slender chest and the sigil curling over his abdomen.
“What’s this?” Iacob muses aloud, touching his thumb to the scarlet tattoo. The mark flares, reflecting red-gold swirls in the hyena’s eyes. Matthew feels the desire flicker out hot through his belly, sealing the hyena’s lust to his own. Need surges between them like the tide.
“We have all night to eat,” Iacob insists to Esau. “Why not play a little first, brother-mine?”
Esau laps at his teeth, clearly impatient. Thinking quickly, Matthew reaches back, gripping Esau by the bicep, drawing his handpaw over the glowing sigil. The contract of want blazes between them.
Esau lunges forward, snapping at Matthew’s throat. He doesn’t break the skin, just sets his teeth against the mouse’s racing pulse. “You smell sweet, little one,” he purrs, gentle as a housecat. “Like summer grain and velvet.”
Iacob leans in beside his brother, inhaling deeply. One broad handpaw falls roughly to the laces of the mouse’s trousers, slicing through them with a flick of his claws. He tears the rest of the fabric away in shreds, leaving the mouse naked and trembling. Matthew kicks his legs, but Iacob grabs his ankle and twists, flipping the mouse onto his belly. Esau grips a handful of the mouse’s narrow ass.
“Look how tiny he is. You think he’s a virgin?”
“Why don’t you check?”
Esau spreads Matthew’s cheeks, shoving one broad finger into the tight clench of the mouse’s tailhole. Matthew squeals in shock and discomfort, trying to crawl away from the intrusion.
“God,” Esau mutters. “He’s trying to break my finger. Little bitch is tight.” He crooks his finger and Matthew yelps, tail flicking out to coil around his assailant’s wrist.
	“Let me loosen him up for you,” Iacob insists. “Hold him.”
	Esau yanks his hand free and pins the mouse to the ground, one handpaw between his thin shoulders, another on the small of his back. The hard grit of the earth digs into Matthew’s chest. His protests are muffled by the dirt.
	Iacob stands, pulling at the lacing of his trousers. The leather ties fall away and he pushes the fabric to the ground. Matthew wrenches his head to one side as Iacob steps into view, his penis lying half-hard against his thigh. He gives himself a few languid strokes, his eyes never leaving the mouse’s.
Slowly, Iacob lowers himself to straddle the back of the mouse’s thighs. Matthew jumps and shudders as he feels the hyena’s weight kiss against his thighs, the weight of Iacob’s cock slapping heavily against his ass. Matthew bucks, trying to throw Iacob off, but he’s held fast. The cackles of the brothers ring in his ears.
Iacob squeezes Matthew’s ass with both handpaws, using his thumbs to spread his cheeks. His hole is clenched, already pink from the intrusion of Esau’s claws.
	“Relax, pretty boy. I’m going to make you feel good.”
	Iacob touches the tapered head of his dick to the mouse’s tailhole, forcing the head inside. Matthew wails at the suddenness of the stretch, the way the thick hyena spreads him wide. “Please,” he begs. “It hurts.”
	“Shhh...let me work you open. You’re gonna take the whole thing.”
	Matthew whimpers again, pressing his face into the dirt. The sigil burns dully against his stomach, Salamand’s power flickering through the air. He can feel the hyenas’ lust, their panting need. 
	Iacob thrusts lightly, and he lets out a low, guttural moan as the first two inches of his cock slides home. Matthew’s tail thrashes as he’s forced to take the breadth of the hyena’s cock. Iacob gives no regard to the tightness of his hole as he pushes in deeper, so slow that Matthew can feel every heated press of his dick inside him. He feels heavy with the sheer weight of it, the width spearing him open.
	“He feels amazing,” Iacob grunts, pushing in further still. “Tight little virgin hole.” Iacob gives his ass a hard grope, digging his claws in. He shoves in hard, hilting himself to the uninflated knot of his cock. Matthew howls, feeling his body tear. Heat floods through him, pain and blood, and want. 
	Iacob bottoms out and Matthew drops his head to the ground as the hyena grips his hips, lifting his ass high into the air. He begins thrusting in earnest: slow at first, and then faster, quick snaps of his hips that open him up wider with each push. Matthew’s half-delirious with the pain and ecstasy of it, his stomach bulging faintly from the enormous cock filling him to breaking. Drool runs from his mouth, muddying the dirt. He moans a half-formed plea. 
“What’d you say, mousie?”
“M-more,” Matthew stammers, his voice wrecked. Humiliation burns his ears. It hurts, but it feels so good.
“You hear this little slut? Tearing himself open on my dick, and he’s beggin’ for more.”
Esau growls in response, a low, hungry sound in the back of his throat. His cock strains against the lacings of his trousers, a wide wet patch already forming. He pulls at the strings just enough for his cock to pop free. It sways heavily under its own weight. “My turn,” he snarls.
	“Here, get him up. We can share.”
	Iacob pulls out suddenly and Matthew wails at the loss, his tailhole gaping open with nothing to clench down on. His hole gives a wet, bloody twitch. 
	Iacob drags him up by the scruff and Matthew complies bonelessly, his body wracked with exhausted tremors. 
	“Look how soft he is,” Esau murmurs, nosing into the warm, sweaty curve of the mouse’s collarbone. “I don’t know if I want to fuck him or eat him.” He runs his tongue over the dip of Matthew’s clavicle, and they both moan aloud at the touch. 
	Matthew can feel himself getting hard, his small pink cock flushing with want. Mindlessly, he humps at the air, straining for contact. Esau laughs, one handpaw falling to the mouse’s hip, the other to his own dick. 
He lines himself up with Matthew’s throbbing tailhole, pushing home with one long, slow thrust. Matthew squeals, his legs spread wide as his own slight weight forces the hyena’s thick cock in deep. 
He clenches tight and Esau groans, burying his teeth in Matthew’s shoulder. He bites down hard, his teeth shredding skin and muscle. Matthew screams, clenching again, and Esau thrusts harder, his jaws locked around Matthew’s shoulder. 
The sigil on his stomach flares again—gold now—and unbearable heat floods through him, sending a lance of pleasure straight to his cock. Matthew throws his head back, back arching as he starts to ride Esau’s cock in earnest, forcing him deep with every thrust. Pain radiates from his shoulder, but it only makes the pleasure more intense, delicious, pounding heat with every jerk of his hips. 
The head of Iacob’s cock slips in between his cheeks to press alongside his brothers. With a sharp snap of his hips, he forces himself in, the fat head of his cock tearing the mouse wide. 
“A-ah!” Matthew howls as the twins pump their hips in tandem, their cocks so hot and thick that they feel like a living thing inside him, pulsing and pounding. His belly distends from their size, the sigil stretching as the hyenas force him open. 
Esau groans in pleasure, shaking his jaw. Blood runs down Matthew’s shoulder blade and Iacob’s tongue catches the drops, nipping along his back before driving his jaws into the opposite shoulder. Matthew cries out as the hyenas’ teeth shred against his thin shoulders, blood pouring down his chest to feed the seal. It glows brighter still, shining through the blood. 
Matthew feels trapped in the haze of it, pleasure fogging his mind until all he can think is more, more, more. 
With every thrust of the hyenas’ cocks in him, blood spills out afresh, soaking his fur, his straining cock. Precum runs in long, translucent strings to puddle in the dirt. He realizes, with a distant pang of alarm, that he’s bleeding out. 
His sigil burns in response, sending a wave of pleasure through him so intense, that he nearly comes, his cock flexing to send another spurt of precum dripping to the earth. 
Iacob puts one handpaw to the back of Matthew’s neck, bucking his hips in fast, jagged jerks. The heat and friction of his cock against Esau’s is driving them both to the edge. 
Esau mirrors his brother, curling one handpaw over the tender swell of Matthew’s throat, twining his fingers with Iacob’s. Together, they begin to squeeze. 
Matthew tries to suck in a breath to no avail, their handpaws are too tight, too strong. His lungs burn, tail thrashing. Pleasure mounts in his stomach as his vision spins. The hyenas’ knots slam against his tailhole, thick and hot. 
Matthew opens his mouth in a wordless plea, his tongue lolling as his eyes roll back. His face is flushed the same burning pink of his cock, overheated and oversensitive. 
With one final, brutal thrust, Iacob and Esau force their knots into him, tearing him wide. Hot ropes of cum begin pumping into him, the heat and weight giving him unbearable pleasure. He screams noiselessly as his own cock jerks, cum streaking across Esau’s chest. 
He feels as though he’ll come forever, the hot waves of ecstasy are all he can feel, blinded by blood loss and the dizzying crush of his throat. The hyenas dig in their claws for one last squeeze, and Matthew goes limp, his cock still drooling, eyes half lidded in frozen pleasure. 
Iacob pulls his teeth free of the dead mouse, licking the blood from his maw. 
“Shall we eat, brother-mine?”