Thar Shaddin

The woman's silence finally broke when she started to take him inside of her. It wasn't much - barely a peep that she tried to hold back - but it was enticing as hell. She did have a voice after all, and with only the slightest whimper said everything that he needed to hear.

As she parted her lips and pushed him inside, she felt wonderfully warm and wet around his shaft. The strange forest woman was quite a tight fit for him, but she was already wet. She must have wanted him as badly as he wanted her to take him to be so aroused already.

Their shared desire for eachother swirled and mingled with her magic in the air around them like a drug. He had to have more of it; more of her.

Holding her tightly with his hands, he encouraged her to move against him, beginning a slow, rhythmic thrusting against her. Strong muscles pulled her down against him and tightened up as he lifted himself to meet her. His eyes wandered slowly down the front of her body, becoming more and more absorbed by her and the moment.

Dark brown hair splayed out over the grass and leaves around his head and he let his hands slip off of her hips to side up over her waist once she started working the rhythm on her own. The rough texture of his fingertips, calloused after years of fighting and holding weapons, contrasted with the soft, flawless skin of her waist. He kept his touch soft, barely touching them with her as he trailed them around her naval and up her sides.

A pair of fox spirits flitted in and out between the trees, watching the two of them going about their fornication with passive interest. They knew something was wrong, but they knew he wasn't going to listen, and all they could do was watch.

Long nails dug into his shoulders as she shifted her hips back and forth on top of him, his large strong hands helped guide her as she sought a steady rhythm with him. Her heart began to beat harder, faster as it too began to keep pace with that of their bodies.

She continued to stare down into his dark green eyes, she didn't know what it was about those eyes but it was as if she could spend forever staring into them. There was something about them, something about him that called out to her but she had yet to figure out what it was.

As she leaned over him, her long dark hair fell down and encircled his face. It tangled itself in his hair as well as the grass and foliage beneath them. With the outside world all but blocked out by a wall of dark hair, she thought only of him.

There bodies moved together as one. Together they moved up and down, his body fit so perfectly in and under her. With her knees firmly planted in the ground, Nia lowered herself further onto him, hoping to pull him deeper inside of her.

Draped beneath her hair as it cascaded around the sides of her head into the grass around him, Chrishton looked back into the woman's eyes. Following them with his own as she rocked back and forth on top of him, he found something unnaturally reassuring and peaceful in them. They were not the eyes of a predator, they were the eyes of a lover. She looked at him with more than simple feral lust, but with some kind of affection.

The sudden encounter with her, amidst all the fighting and suffering in Marn, was a gift from the gods. She felt so good, in so many ways, that he didn't know what to make of it. He let himself slip away into her eyes while she rode him. As physically strong, as emotionally weathered, experienced, and independent as he was, he was under her control.

His hands slid down from her waist to her thighs again, feeling over the curve of her legs while they remained hidden beneath the skirt. Only their outlines, pushing against the animal furs, were barely enough for him to get a grip on. He found himself tempted to tear the skirt away, just so that he could see the rest of her.

She shifted her weight, plunging him further in. He responded in kind, pushing up to meet her and match her rhythm.

Their passions grew together and quickened the pace of their thrusting. Chrishton wanted her to get more rough with him, and let out a series of hungry grunts while he pulled her down to meet him. With his eyes locked to hers, he let her know as his climax approached.

One of his hands left her waist to touch the nape of her neck and then up to cup her cheek in his palm, and suddenly she felt his powerful muscles tense, pulling her down against him. His eyes lost their focus with hers and he finally released, groaning loudly as he did. He held her there for a few seconds, his hand still held against the side of her neck, and then dropped back against the ground gasping for breath.

With her shroud of hair still blocking off the outside world, he stared up at what he could see, and took on one of the most serene, satiated expressions the deer woman had ever seen.

His warm fluid flowed through her, filling her insides and bringing their short time together to a close.

A part of her wanted to lay there in the grass, curl up beside him and drift off to sleep. The idea was very tempting. He had proved to a far better mate then she had expected, draining most of her energy in their encounter.

As tempting as it was though, it was something that could not be. She could not allow this one to live even if she had enjoyed him. If she allowed every man who pleasured her to live, there would be many more of them roaming freely destroying all that she loved.

This man, like all those that came before him, would have to die to preserve the life she wished to live.

With a kiss on his cheek and a sigh of despair, she forced herself up to her feet and admired his perfect body one last time. What a shame it was to lose such a competent mate.

Standing over his body, she took in his well muscled body, his long tangled hair, his dark eyes. Yes, his death would be a shame but a necessary one. He looked so relaxed and peaceful there.

As much as she wanted to join him again, she knew that she must make his death quick or she would lose all nerve. Before she would let that happen, he would meet his end.

Nimble fingers quickly untied her skirt and let the piece of animal skins fall away from her. She stood before him, completely naked now. Her body, which changed to that of a deer beneath her knees, was exposed for him to see.

Without waiting to give him a chance to get away, she lifted one of her hooves to stomp down on his exposed chest.

Now she takes the skirt off?

It was a nice view from where he was laying, busy making every effort to not move at all while still staying awake. The high was still wearing off, and he could not possibly feel more comfortable than he was right then. So engaged in their fornication was he, after being deprived for what felt like ages and also being put under her spell, that he enjoyed it even more than usual.

"Dun tell me y'wanna go again already."

He moved his arms up and folded his hands behind the back of his head, gazing up at her with a delirious smile. She had a wonderful body... But what was she hiding under that skirt? Everything looked normal above the knees, but something was strange further down.

Lifting his head a few inches, he saw what it was. She had thick, gray tinted fur covering the lower half of her legs, which looked more equine than human.

"'ey lookit that. That what ya been hidin'? Looks damn sexy t'me..." he began to say, when she lifted one of her feet up to show him the underside of a hoof. It was about then that he clued in as to something being wrong. What was she doing? Why was she poising herself to stomp down...

Chrishton's eye's jolted open. With barely a fraction of a second to prepare himself for what came next, all he could do was tense up his core muscles while pulling his hands away from the back of his head. He was lucky to be the size that he was. A layer of fat and muscle offered at least some protection from impact.

Her hoof collided with his midsection and didn't stop until several of his ribs snapped and gave way. He emitted a heavy noise as the air rushed out of his lungs. Another man might have been done then, and doubled over while leaving other parts of his body open to further stomping, but not him. Chrishton was used to pain, which meant that even while his mind reeled under the shock of feeling his ribs snap and having the wind knocked out of him, he did not stop struggling.

He twisted to grab at anything he could get a grip on to try and pull himself away, and came up with a handful of grass. The act of turning his body twisted the broken ribs in ways they never should have been twisted, adding to the pain.

He had to move quickly, before he took another hit like the last. His human form was not helping that one bit. Instinctively, thinking only about hurrying to get away, he shifted into his half-fox form. In a fraction of a second, just as her second stomp came barreling down against his back, his clothes and human features morphed into those of a man-fox. White fur, tails and ears sprouted from the respective parts of his body, and the speed of his movements doubled.

Fast as he was about it, it was not enough to avoid the second stomp. On his stomach, trying to scamper away, the hoof came down again and drove him into the ground. He didn't have the benefit of size anymore, only his squirming around kept her from snapping his back like a twig.

A high pitched yelp that belonged to a canine came out with the blow. He couldn't tell how bad it was, saw nothing but stars, and kept clawing at the ground to get away.

She didn't stop when the first kick landed on his ribs resulting in a loud cracking sound. No, she swung her hoof again only this time it came down on his back, as he had twisted to get away from that attack.

She was used to men trying to flee as she stomped them to death. Few were able to dodge her hooves let alone escape with their lives. Though this man was a fighter, she doubted much good would come of it.

That was until he had shifted his form in front of her. The change from man to fox-man had been to quick that it hadn't caught her eye before her third kick had hit him in the back.

With her hoof posed for another stomp, Nia noticed the appearance of white fur that hadn't been there before and with it two furry tails. Somehow this man had changed himself into an animal. Or worse, she had made a terrible mistake and attacked a creature of the woods without realizing it.

It made perfect sense now, his wild nature and smell he carried about him. Fox, he smelled like a fox. How could she have not identified him as the animal he was.

This was a very bad mistake. In the act of protecting the animals of the woods, she had nearly killed one of them. His yelp, served to confirm his animal nature, it was a sound only a creature of the woods would make. It hit her hard, making her feel guilty for actions. Nia would never attack one of her friends and to her, all animals were friends.

Stopping her attack, Nia bent over his injured body. He was still alive but badly hurt. With how hard he struggled to get away, it was certain he would surely live through the attack if not with much pain do to the injuries he had suffered. Like all animals, he was fighting for his life.

This didn't stop her from feeling guilty though, she had made a bad mistake. Without knowing the words to communicate any sort of apology, she sat down in the grass and scratched behind his pointy white fox ears.

"Fa..fa..foaks" Words were a tool of men that she made very little use of and as such the closest she could come to apologizing or even explaining her actions would be difficult.

Dirt and grass flew into the air around Niabi's legs as Chrishton tried to pull himself away. He was nearly out of harm's way when the last kick came down, jolting his body with another agonizing surge of pain. It pushed his broken ribs into his diaphragm and lungs, and hurt so much that his mind temporarily turned itself off.

He did not quite pass out, although everything in him wanted to do so. His muscles went limp and his eyes shuttered, but Chrishton still clung to what consciousness he had left. If he could manage another burst of energy, if he could make it another few feet so that he would be out of range of her kicks, he would be alright.

It was hopeless, of course. He was done for unless something else happened to come along and rescue him. He didn't fear death and believed that, as long as he kept fighting, something would indeed come along to save him.

There was a second's pause. For some reason the kicking had stopped. It was just long enough for Chrishton to put his palms flat against the ground again and regain his focus. He lacked the strength to lift his own weight. His mind told his hands to push, and get away, but the refused. Unable to breathe properly, he didn't have the oxygen to do it.

Expecting another kick, he did the most that he could do - he turned onto his side and twisted his head around so that he could see her. At least if he could see her, he'd know what was coming.

He didn't see what he expected to see. Rather than have her hoof raised to finish him off, she was taking a seat down on the grass. From his vantage point, with his vision still blurry, Chrishton couldn't make out her expression or think of why she might be doing what she was, but at least she wasn't killing him anymore. That was the only thing that mattered.

Her hand reached out and scratched his head behind his ear, and the kitsune didn't even have the energy to flinch away. He just lay there, trying to breathe, and looked over at her in his confusion.

Fa..fa..foaks, she said.

The last thing he thought, before passing out, was that she still had a lovely voice.

"Foaks?"

Was it possible that she had injured him far worse then she had first assumed? Sure she had originally planned on killing him, the whole point in attacking him had been an attempt to kill him. Though the attack had been a short one and she happened to miss hitting him anywhere that would insure his death, he still seemed to be much pain, much more so then she had first thought.

"Foaks?"

As much as she wanted to help the poor creature that she had mistakenly injured, Nia had no idea what to do. She had never hurt another animal and as such, she didn't know what if anything could be done to help the fox-man.

"Foaks?" She pleaded with him to answer her.

He didn't seem to be responding to her touch or when she called out to him. Perhaps he is dying. No, he can't die. She would never forgive herself if she killed another animal.

Carefully, She placed his head in her lap. If she couldn't help him, she would at least try to make him comfortable. He looked so peaceful lying in the grass, now that he was no longer fighting to get away, he almost seemed to be sleeping.

As she watched him sleep, she desperately hoped that the fox was fighting for for his life, just as many more doing inside of her.

Chrishton entered a familiar place in his mind. Passed out from pain and fatigue, his mind shut itself down because somewhere, some part of it registered that it was safe to do so. When the woman he had just had sex with stopped trying to kill him, and once again showed that side of herself which had allured him in the first place, he knew that he wasn't going to die if he allowed himself to lose consciousness.

Oh, the pain was unbearable, and all he could see was a purple and red field of stars, but he was capable of struggling until his last breath left his lungs if he thought he had to. But Chrishton could read people. After so many years playing hardball with all sorts of people, he knew who was who, who he could trust, and he was very hard to fool.

Something had gone wrong with the woman in the woods. Potentially fatally wrong. She lured him in with a look and a bit of magic, and yet the whole time that she tricked him he knew - somewhere in the back of his mind - that he was being tricked. Of course she was up to something. Nobody finds you randomly in the woods and wants to have sex with you just because. But nobody with eyes like hers could be so bad.

And so, when she scratched him behind his ear, and tried to calm him down to make up for what had just happened, that part of his mind that knew how to read people, and had read her as a good person, snapped into action and let him pass out. It was not a conscious decision. When that part of him said it was OK, there was no questioning it. He was in la-la land before he knew what was going on.

Once he was out, he began to dream. Slowly but surely he floated around inside his own head, remembering who he was, where he was, and why he was once again in dream land when it wasn't bed time. It was a place he knew fairly well. He had been beaten senseless and injured this badly before on more than one occasion. It was the same experience had when Moryldar and Ryxa had tortured him. He didn't feel anything, and was just waiting to wake up, although he could hear a voice trying to wake him sooner. Foaks. Foaks...

Five hours passed before the fox-man stirred. He opened his eyes and reflexively tried to sit up, but barely made it an inch before a sharp pain made him abandon that plan. His chest and his back hurt, and it was still difficult to breathe. He touched the spot where the broken ribs were. Another jolt of pain made him wonder why he came up with such stupid ideas, and he quickly removed the hand.

Staring up at the woman, he realized that she had his head cradled in her lap.

Carefully, he took as much of a lungful of air as he could muster, and said, "Ow."

As the hours passed, Nia slipped in and out of sleep. She had tried to stay awake to keep watch over the injured fox but as time went by she realized just how tired she had been. The earlier events of the day were starting to take a toll on her energy.

Though she continually fell asleep it was never long enough to restore her to the state of restfulness that she had worn earlier. With this lack of sleep also came a lack of dreams, not that she ever really dreamed that much. When she did she did dream, she dreamed of vast green meadows filled with spring flowers, enough food to feed a large herd and with it the new fawns that came each spring.

Again she opened her eyes and looked down at the fox lying in her lap. He had started to stir alerting her to his waking.

"Ow. Foaks." He lives.

She stroked his furry cheek and looked deep into his dark green eyes as she greeting him again with another smile.

When she echoed his 'ow', he wanted to laugh but the sudden use of his diaphragm caused his body to jolt from the pain. All he managed to get out was half a chuckle, cut off by a weak groan. The kitsune was obviously still in a significant amount of pain.

She was still there, staring down at him, stroking the fur on his cheek with her hand. He let the moment linger, rather than make another attempt to get up right away. Eventually he would have to move, get back to town, and seek medical attention. He knew that... But as long as he didn't move, it didn't hurt.

Staring back up into her eyes, he offered her a smile.

"Yes, fox." Each group of words came out with their own breath. Inhaling too deeply was painful for him. "I guess... you don't like humans... And... I guess... you don't understand... what I'm saying."

She didn't appear to speak his language very well. Most of what he read on her face was confusion. At least some of it was getting through, if not the nuances of what he was saying. Chrishton did begin to suspect he understood her motives. Strange though they might be, they didn't bother him.

"I'm Chrishton," he said, tapping his upper chest with his index finger. "Chrishton."

"Chrish..aon" Nia tried to repeat him but his words were hard to speak. Men had their own way of communicating using a series of words and sounds that were complicated far beyond her limited understanding. As much as she had picked up on her encounters with their kind, she knew that her knowledge of their language was lacking to say the least.

Animals had developed far superior ways of communicating how they felt and what they thought. Through body motion, smell, and a series of grunts and snorts she could speak everything that could ever need to be told to another being.

With the fox-man she felt a need to speak to him in a combination of both his language and her own. "Men kill," she pointed over at her skirt that still lay on the ground discarded. "Niabi kill men."

To reassure the fox that she meant him no harm, she nuzzled his face. "Nao kill foaks."

Chrish..aon

Her pronunciation was so off that it was endearing, like listening to a child trying to speak. This quality contrasted starkly with the very un-childlike behavior she had just engaged in; both in having sex with him, and trying to kill him.

Chrishton didn't correct her. Not because he was too hurt and distracted by his injuries to take the time to do so, but because he didn't want to. Upon hearing his name said in such a way, he just smiled weakly. When she indicated the discarded skirt of animal hides, he turned his eyes to look at it without moving his neck, and understood what she meant.

When she nuzzled the side of his face, he pushed his cheek against her nose. He wasn't upset.

Her motivations weren't all that bizarre. She wanted to keep men out of her woods, and killed them when they were unlucky enough to threaten her territory. When she saw that he was a kitsune, she must have been so startled by it that she stopped and concluded that he was different enough to be one of her animal friends.

"Niabi," he recited. "That's... a pretty name."

A much longer pause interrupted his sentences this time while he caught his breath, testing his lungs to see how much air he could force into them before it started to hurt. He could only manage shallow breaths, and that was going to get worse as the injury inevitably swelled up. What he didn't know was if the lung was punctured, ready to collapse, fill with blood, or what have you. He did know that things like that often happened when people suffered such powerful blows to the torso.

"Niabi... I have to go... to town." Lifting one hand, he pointed his index finger in the direction of Shim. "Town... Shim... I need to see a doctor."

Again he spoke in words she did not understand. Strange, confusing, complex words that were far beyond her understanding. What she did understand was his finger and the direction to what it pointed.

Men.

He wanted to return to the herd of men from which he had come from. But why? Men were cruel creatures that hurt the animals of the woods and him, being an animal would surely be killed by them if he were to return.

With sympathy for the poor injured fox, Niabi took his fingers in her own and nuzzled them against her face. His fingers were rough and strong yet warm and gentle at the same time. She wanted to hold on to those fingers and keep them close to her, he couldn't leave then.

"Nao men kill. Kill faoks." Nia shook her head and continued to rub her cheek up against his hand.

He couldn't be allowed to leave, she couldn't let him wander off to die among men. He needed to say in the woods, with his own kind and let the beings of the forest help care for him as he healed his wounds.

Chrishton shook his head, closed his eyes, and sighed to himself. She didn't understand what he was saying. How to communicate with someone who not only didn't speak his language, but probably didn't speak any language, and who existed outside of society entirely. Did she even understand the social convention that he was conveying by shaking his head?

If only he could make it to town on his own two feet, there wouldn't be a problem.

"No, no. Men help fox."

He tried to think of the times he encountered weird entities in the umbra who behaved so ferally because they had never been beyond the confines of their territory of that weird realm. Or any other time he had come across another shifter who was too animalistic to bear human society to talk to like a human being. Nothing useful was coming to mind. He understood her just fine, but it was a one-way thing. What he needed was an immediate solution.

Chrishton took her hand in his right hand, placed his left palm in the dirt, and tried to stand up. The muscles in his face knotted in pain, forcing his eyes closed. Using his abs pushed the broken ribs inward enough to provoke some serious protestations on the part of his nervous system. It was enough to make him dizzy to a degree that felt like he was on the verge of fainting again, but he got to a sitting position and rested there.

After several stabilizing breaths during which he said nothing, he bit the bullet and got to his feet while using the deer woman for support.

It wasn't so bad once he was standing, though he still felt dizzy.

With one hand on her shoulder, he looked at her, and once again pointed at himself with a furry finger. "I am man. Fox man." He pointed at the town again. "Home."