~Tangerine~

“Niiiiiightfaaaaaall, quietly crept in and changed us all...
Niiiiiightfaaaaaall, immortal land lies down in agony.”

Despite the ever present disturbance of the hatchet buried in my back, I manage to laugh at that last one. “I suppose Butcher was the ‘immortal land’ in that case, eh?”

Wolf River chuckles, though I have the feeling he’s just doing it to humor me. It really wasn’t that funny. I sigh and lose myself in my pillow. I’ve been laying still on this bed for a full day with this accursed weapon inside of me. Had I only been a little bit faster...

Come to think of it, though, what would have happened had I not taken this hatchet? Wolf River was standing right next to me. Would he have taken it in a much more vital area and ended up in a worse state than I? Or perhaps... No, I must not think such things

A few days ago, Wolf River was merely a caretaker for me, convincing the other Carriers to put up with my bullshit long enough for me to stick around another dull, alcohol drenched day. Aside from the occasional sporting brawl, nothing ever happens in Horsevaskr. It’s my definition of hell.

Well, at least it used to be.

Now I find its crude and ancient wooden age design charmingly rustic. All these bedridden hours have given me significant time to appreciate the trophies, pelts, stone art and weaponry upon the walls. These are all relics of another age. Wolf River has told me such an age was filled with mayhem and chaos, but the prizes, in my mind, make it worthwhile.

So, now Horsevaskr actually means something to me. Doubly so for Wolf River. I’ve had long enough to reflect on his words to know that, underneath that battle hardened exterior, he loves me. It’s uncanny to think so, especially since I don’t know him half as well as I wish, but I’m, well, honored. I’ve never felt quite like this before.

I can’t say I feel the same way for him. I don’t know him well enough. But, I’d like to. That’s why I can’t control my blush as he sees fit to lay on the bed with me.

I turn to Wolf River and ask something that’s been on my mind for a while. “How did you become a lycan, anyway?”

He touches his hoof to his lips for a moment. “It’s an old blood ritual. I drank a powerful concoction that only the finest alchemists in Equestria dare attempt. Its ingredients, poison joke, wolf blood, liquid pride, are incredibly difficult to obtain, but we carry plenty of them. Most of the time.”

Examining the scars upon his face brings another question about. “Did you get any of those scars as a wolf?”

“To tell the honest truth, most of the smaller ones, here,” he gestures to his neck, “are self inflicted. The first transformation is always the hardest, especially considering I was only a child when I did it, but in the end, I’d say it was worth it. I’d never have survived the highlands without the blood of the wolf.”

He keeps delving into a time I had the (apparent) fortune of never witnessing, but that makes me all the more curious. “Tell me about Equestria before the immigration.”

He nods. “If you listened to the song, you’d understand what it was like; absolute disarray. Ponykind was torn apart, segmented into different tribes. The Carrier Clan was one of those tribes, obviously. They occupied this segment of the old land since their creation. The gryphons ruled the northern lands and mountains. In fact, Ezio’s death aside, they still do, albeit shattered these days. They enslaved most of the smaller tribes, forcing them into prostitution and petty thievery. Then there were the minotaurs, oh my... They have a fierce temper.”

“And pride that rivals my own?” I ask.

Wolf River spreads his forelegs wide. “Out to here and beyond the border! The gryphons at least allowed for free travel. One step into the minotaur’s land and...” He imitates the motion of a hammer swinging into a small foe and flattening them. “Yes. But they kept to themselves. The worst of the lot, however, was the changeling hive. They’re subdued these days, in fact, I daresay they’ve disappeared entirely. All they ever did,” he slams his hooves together for punctuation, “feed, infect, enslave! Didn’t matter how many you killed, they’d just hatch ten more for each.”

This expositional onslaught leaves the black stallion panting, albeit with a smile on his face. It’s like he looks upon those hellish times with nostalgia.

“It sounds absolutely brutal. Do you... miss those days?”

Another one of his hearty laughs shakes the bed. “Part of my heart does yearn for the old days of fighting for survival, but I’ve given peace a chance. You foreigners brought order into this land. It’s like, I just woke one morning and all of the chaos just,” he casts hoof out into the distance, “went away.”

“What peace? What order? We’re in a bloody civil war.”

“Well, it’s the thought that-”

The door slides open, and a face I had never wished to see again enters with her snooty nose pointed towards the ceiling. “Good evening, Wolf River. Sorry I took all day, Equinesreach has been a madhouse- Oh.”

Had I the Thu‘um, I would be breathing fire by now. “Drake,” I hiss through my teeth. The good jarl’s eyes are darting about. I bet she’s panicking on the inside. She should be.

“Tangerine." She turns to Wolf River and speaks in a hushed voice, though I can hear every word. “Just when I think the liquid glass has all of you figured out, fate changes direction. Wolf River, you know I love you and the rest of the Carriers, but... Well, I think this is a little beyond me.”

“‘Tis but a hatchet, My Jarl. You’ve removed far worse. I recall, you put Roches right as rain when he took an arrow in-”

“-the shoulder. Yes, I remember.” She sighs and faces the ground, letting out a pathetic chuckle. “Damn you. This is what Boysenberry and I get for being the only unicorns in this accursed town.”

I hate her and her pretentious manner. She pretends as though she‘s never at fault for anything. And there was that controversial incident with the child, lifting him from a bandit‘s hive without returning him to his parents. I wonder how many more children she’s put under ‘surprise adoption’?

“ACK!”

I drag my hooves across the bed as she examines the hatchet with her levitation magic. “Okay, this should be an easy removal.” She frowns. “It’s what will happen afterward that concerns me.”

I push words out between bouts of pain. “You... didn’t think the same... at Ghastly Gorge...”

I want to give Drake an earful of how much her liquid glass affinity royally screwed over the Imperial Legion, but her green aura stroking my mane silences me. “Calm yourself, Tangerine. Neither of us serve the Empire anymore, so let’s not have any old wounds fester. I don’t want to have this bad blood between us, and besides...” She fans the air in front of her nose. “You can’t really afford to lose much more.”

It’s tempting to argue with her, but she has a point. I am still awfully dizzy. A few more drops lost and I may not wake up again. I hold my tongue for now, and just nod my head.

Drake reciprocates and steps closer to me. “Okay, the best way to do this is to remove it slowly so you don’t go into shock. Once it’s out, I’ll freeze the wound to prevent bleeding. Boysenberry gave me,” she counts under her breath as she shuffles through her pouch, “ten healing potions to heal the gash, that should be more than enough.”

She left an item out of that roster. My ears perk up. “What about anesthesia?

“Do you have any idea how expensive that is?” Drake nickers. “Not in this economy, and the spell is very difficult to learn. No, let us spare the coin for a little bit of pain, shall we?”

I can’t argue with that either. Even the Imperial Legion’s had to recycle armor and weapons with this inflation. As such, I relax and brace myself for the inevitable agony of Drake performing the operation on me. The hatchet? Not so awful by comparison. I brace myself as her horn begins to glow a forest green.

“Okay, commencing hatchet removal in three... two...”

She doesn’t say one.

“AARAAGH! WANDERER RAPING ARAMIS WITH HIS HORN!” Yes, it’s somewhat painful.

I look up at Drake through squinted eyes and see her resisting the urge to burst out laughing. Wolf River backs away and retracts his ears.

The door is shoved open as Aerial and Roches gallop inside. “Is Lady Tangerine well?” asks the former, surveying the awkward scene Drake and I must be making.

The hatchet moves upwards again, grinding against my muscle and flesh. I let out a scream before I descend into profanity again. “YES! I’M ABSOLUTELY FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC!”

The pain begins to dwindle for a moment as Drake’s horn lets off a second layer of green. “If you would kindly falter with the blaspheme, I need to take this out entirely.”

I grimace, tears threatening to burst forth from my squinting eyelids. “Mother... fucking...” None of my Imperial training ever braced me for pain of this sort. I hate this... But, when I feel Wolf River’s warm touch and see his perfect smile brightening up the room, I can’t help but feel a little bit braver. To my surprise, he presses his muzzle to my cheek. When Drake grunts, finally yanking the hatchet out of my body, I don’t feel a thing.

However, I do find myself shivering as she freezes the blood draining from the gash. The icy grip holding the skin of my back together feels unnatural and taxing, not to mention goosebump inducing. Despite that, with the hatchet set away in the corner and Wolf River embracing me, I feel much more fortunate now than I did a few minutes ago. I let out an elongated sigh of relief. “Oh, thank Luna...”

The mutterings of the other Clan members and Jarl Drake’s chuckling go silent, all of them staring my way.

“What?” I ask, holding my hooves out in confusion.

After a very uncomfortable few moments pass, Aerial speaks. “Who is Luna?”

“Nobody. I don’t...” Why did I say that? “I don’t know any Luna...” Why did I bloody say that? “Slip of the tongue.”

Hearing the clink of a vial, I notice Drake dangling a couple red healing potions next to my head. I take one and drain it in a few gulps. Already I can feel the wound closing. I chug down a few more glasses of the red concoction just to be certain. As a little bit of it dribbles from my lips, Wolf River wipes it away. I smile. “That’s quality alchemy, right there.”

Drake summons an orb of water and washes her hooves clean, even though they hardly did any of the work. “Shame. I was looking forward to torturing you a tad longer.” She looks to Wolf River. “Will that be all?”

He doesn’t take his eyes off me. “Thank you, My Jarl.”

She bows to him. “Safety and peace, Wolf River.”

“And also with you.”

“And you... and you...” Drake bows to Aerial and Roches, receiving their bows before leaving the room.

As Roches’ gaze moves from Drake to me, he asks, “It’s good to see you made it out of the Cairn alive. Nopony has dared set hoof in there for some time, for fear of being pelted.”

There’s a grimace from Aerial. “The Silver Horseshoe are sick fucks, if you’ll pardon my mouth. Clearly you’ll need a true huntress at your side next time.”

“And another warrior, one who isn’t prone to revealing his secrets so easily,” says Roches, knocking Wolf River with his elbow.

I raise my head in surprise. “They know?”

Wolf River’s laugh rings out once again. “General, the whole Clan knows. Jarl Drake knows, Boysenberry knows, everypony in Trottingham knows! We couldn’t very well keep our wolf blood under wraps for very long. We couldn’t afford to. Secrets need to be made known if there is to be any trust amongst ponykind.” He sighs and relaxes his head against the pillow. “Such is the way of the twilight age.”

“The deed is done, Wolf River, you don’t need to justify it.” Aerial shows off her wings. “Hey, Tangerine, you think the lycan transformation is nasty enough? These babies have to retract every time I turn. You have any idea how painful that is?”

I snort. “About as painful as removing a hatchet from your back?”

“I was going to say giving birth to a full grown minotaur, but that works too.” Her expression turns alarmed. “Tangerine, you’re bleeding again.”

My heart jumps as I feel traces of foul smelling red running down my body. Wolf River, eyes bulging, picks up another potion and passes it to me. He keeps hold of it as I drink greedily, then takes a damp cloth to clean the blood from the bed.

I can feel my skin reconnecting. “No doubt I’ll have a nasty scar after it’s finished. Then again, I suppose it’s high time I get one.” My track record for grave injuries in battle is pleasantly small, especially considering my old line of work. A nick or bruise never stuck with me for long. “This will be a good story to tell Nutmeg and Cinnamon.” A sudden sinking feeling strikes me. I look to Roches, recalling that he had escorted Rosemary to the villa, and given the lack of bite wound, I can assume it went well. “You.. didn’t let it slip to my young ones I’ve been sacked from the Legion, right?”

Roches nods. “Not a mention of it passed my lips, and Rosemary said she’d keep her mouth shut about it just the same.”

“Good. They’d lose all faith in me if they knew... Some secrets need to be kept.”

“They admire you, I see,” says Wolf River.

“True heroes are hard to come across these days, and I wish to keep the guise of one long enough so Nutmeg and Cinnamon can pursue their dreams of being Imperial soldiers. Like me and their father, Oregano.”

Aerial cocks her brow. “Oregano Von Spice is your husband? I thought he died in the battle of Ghastly...” She looks to where Drake had left the room, her face frozen. “Oh...”

Wolf River starts brushing my unkempt mane out of my eyes. I assume he thinks I’m going to cry for my late husband, but no. Beyond being the father to my children and the brief pit of loss I felt when he perished, his memory means little to me.

“I’ve lost a lot, you know. I lost my husband, Rosemary’s respect, my job, my honor... The last thing I need is to lose Nutmeg and Cinnamon.”

Roches chuckles, obviously trying to lighten the mood. “You’ve lost a lot of blood too. Could have sworn you were bleeding honor.”

I turn my head and see that the potions have done their job, and my back has been healed over, with a scar as I predicted. Albeit sore, I can easily move to face upwards. After many hours, such a change of view is glorious. “I... I don’t talk about honor that much, do I?”

Roches and Aerial exchange nervous glances.

“Well, I think everything’s in order-”
“I need to put the kettle on-”
“Polish the sheep-”
“Sheer my blade-”
“Sharpen my fetlocks-”
“Is it raining again?”

They ramble on long after they awkwardly leave the room, bumping into each other as they pass the door. Wolf River closes it shut and scratches his head quite adorably.

“You, uh, do, a little bit.”

“I see.” If anypony but Wolf River were to tell me that, I’d take offense to it. “So, Aerial and Roches are lycans too?”

Wolf River nods. “They have wolf blood, yes. Scar too. Anypony that carries that blood has a coat black as night. It’s how we identify our fellow lycan. We have a... spiritual connection, you see. There has never been a struggle between lycans. We are all brethren in arms and blood.” He holds his hoof over my chest, looking at me for permission. I nod, and he places his hoof over my heart. “If you join us, you are welcome to become one with our inner circle, and become a lycan like the rest of us.”

“Oh my...” My memory brings forth every brutal kill that Wolf River made in Dustcolt’s Cairn. I’d never seen such brutality, such beauty, and I could have that power in my hooves if I desired it. I would be unstoppable. No foe would dare face me if they valued their continued existence...“I can’t.”

Wolf River’s ears drop, his eyes filled with disappointment. He closes his eyes and removes his hoof. “I understand.”

I hate seeing him with such a sad face. I grab hold of his hoof and place it back on my chest, looking straight at him. “I never said I wouldn’t join the Clan.” I lift one hoof and press it to Wolf River’s cheek, then moving downward to stroke the nape of his neck. His left hind leg gives an involuntary kick as he purrs.

The euphoria I see his smile and wide eyes reminds me of how he feels for me, and how long he‘s probably waited for this, doubting it could ever happen. “Wolf River...” I whisper. “Do you love me?”

“Yes,” he says sternly, without pause.

"I see...”

There’s a silent moment where I, with a face of pleasant surprise, and Wolf River, still keeping one of happiness, just gaze at each other. It’s then that I realize the curtains to the one window are pulled shut, and the candlelight is beginning to dim. As such, there’s nopony to hold this against me. I move my muzzle forward and kiss Wolf River. His lips are rough, like the rest of his body. They’re sandpaper against mine, but in a pleasant way, like a rough massage.

When we part, Wolf River presses his forehead against mine affectionately and wraps me in another one of his signature embraces. His armor is cold against my bare coat, but I show no discomfort. “You have no idea...”

“How much this means to you?” I mutter into his ear.

Oh, Epona... He’s trembling. I must have dropped an emotional chandelier on his head with that gesture. He moves his muzzle to press up against my own, tickling me with his breath.“I wouldn’t be here, in Horsevaskr, surrounded by my spiritual family, if it weren’t for you.”

I grace his cheeks with my hooves. “And I couldn’t be happier right now.” I kiss him again, slower this time.

I won’t go on an extended rant about how I truly feel, because I lot of emotions are flying through my head at this moment that I can’t fully describe in sane tongue, but two things are clear to me:

I care for Wolf River very much...

...and I want to make love to him.

I push further into the kiss, slipping my tongue between his lips. I feel a twinge of disappointment when he pulls away. His breaths are intensifying in speed, something I can’t help but find arousing. “Ah... Are we really doing this?” His nervous tone merged with his deep voice is dissonantly adorable.

I say yes with a peck on the tip of his muzzle, giving him a sultry gaze.

That’s all the provocation he needs. “Okay.” He turns around, and I press my cheek up against him from behind. His hooves clumsily fiddle with the buckles of his armor. In the heat of the moment, they must be like enchanted locks to him.

Being so sure of my decision, I’m calm enough to reach around and guide his trembling hooves to undo the buckles. As soon as the last click sounds out, his armor easily slides off his body, mail and all. An audible gasp leaves my mouth as I run my hooves over his toned figure.

“Do these muscles come with the wolf’s blood?” I playfully jape, tracing circles into his chest before I begin to move them lower.

“Decades of service to the Clan made this body, M’lady.”

Even with my hooves groping his flanks and his breath nearing hyperventilation, Wolf River remains calm in spirit, and polite as ever. I can’t imagine him trying a play at dirty talk, which is just fine with me. Him calling me ‘M’lady’ is raunchy enough.

I finally have a view of his mark, a wolf’s paw. That makes sense enough. “Did you get that after your first transformation?” He nods, reaching his forelegs back to slide underneath my undergarment and touch my shield mark. His fierce grip causes me to shudder.

For a while, we continue to grope each other. Wolf River’s breath has finally steadied. I had started to fear I’d give him a heart attack. I may just do so now, when I raise my hooves to his chest one last time before forcing them lower than before.

I feel a new warmth underneath his cloth. He lets out a hushed moan and nuzzles deeper against my cheek, forcing a childish giggle out of me.

Brushing along him, I feel Wolf River’s excitement growing and stiffening. Given his stalwart figure, it only makes sense he’d be of respectable size underneath. I massage his length, caressing it at the peak and moving downward, then back.

An elongated gasp breaks the romantic silence, making my own nethers begin to tingle. It makes me realize how much time has passed since I last coupled with another pony... I’ve only ever had Oregano. What we defined as making love was a single act of direct coitus, a cup of tea and a good night’s sleep. We performed that routine as many times as I’ve given birth: just the three.

That was an act of duty. What I’m doing to Wolf River right now, feeling every inch of his sacred blade, this is passion.

I ask in brief, “That's nice?”

His expression is contorted into one of joy, ecstasy and ‘I can’t believe this is happening’. He lightly kisses me before saying, “Your touch is as gentle and compassionate as I imagined.” I give him an extra strong stroke and laugh on the inside as he purses his lips. “I’m... I’m getting a little close.”

I reluctantly remove my hooves from his warmth and put pressure into his shoulders while whispering sensually into his ear. “You’re not, what’s the peasant phrase, ‘one and done’, are you?”

“No, no...” He turns his torso back towards me, giving me a better view of his toned chest and very nearly making me swallow my tongue. I don’t relent on my massage, though. “I just... I want to remember this.”

I hear him well, but my eyes remain glued to his muscles. I can’t help myself. I press my face up against them and absorb the scent of Wolf River’s natural musk. It brings a smile to my cheeks and another twinge to my nethers. “You’ll...” I gasp as my legs involuntarily shift. “You’ll remember. I promise.”

As he slowly descends onto his back with my coaxing push, I grace my muzzle along his body. I tenderly kiss his muscles, then I find myself kissing the inside of his leg as I remove his undergarments. His pride is revealed to me.

I send a silent prayer to Nebula, thanking him for Wolf River’s bountiful feast, and begin to consume. My tongue prods the end, then envelopes the rest of the head, followed by my mouth. Steadily, I work my way down, first indulging on how much I can take. When the length grazes my throat, threatening to slip below, I slowly release my mouth’s grip, though my saliva, as well as my tongue, remain on the sacred blade.

The dim candlelight emphasizes the embarrassingly large smile on Wolf River’s face. Part of me finds it hilarious, and the other finds it oddly attractive, and proud I’ve brought such pleasure to him with a single dive. I return my focus to his length and wrap my lips around it again. I glaze his shaft with eager puckering and tracings of my tongue before diving again and pulling back up.

Wolf River exhales with a slight hum every time I dive. “L-Lady Tangerine...” I draw my sultry gaze to him every so often, pausing the movement of my head to let him relax. His awkward disposition has faded, now much more dignified as he relaxes his head on the crest of the bed, wearing shut eyes and and a perfectly content smile, though his nostrils flare with each breath I make on his blade.

My tongue reaches out for him again but his hoof stops me. “Please, I...” His words are mere gasps between his heated breaths. “I... I don’t want to finish just yet.”

“V-Very well...” I’m gasping too. Why is that? Only now am I aware of the rotating motions of my own right hoof, involuntarily traveling across the lips of my nethers. It seems I’ve become more aroused than I previously thought, as I can already feel my moisture slipping from the slit. The idea of Wolf River seeing me committing masturbation, something I’ve been unable to do for several years, is unbearably humiliating, yet at the same time I don’t wish to stop. If he loves me so, then... then this must be a treat for him to witness. Why shouldn’t I show my need to him?

Depraved as it may look, I relish leaning back on the bed with my hoof further pushing onto my sweet, breaching the lips and gracing the sensitive flesh on the inside. Having not felt this in ages, the lightheaded feeling that comes over me feels unfamiliar. My vision goes sideways for an instant before I lean forward again, into Wolf River’s embrace. His touch alone is driving me mad.

“Beautiful,” he says when my hyperventilating ends. His grip is firm yet gentle. I’ve mentioned before that Wolf River reminds me more of a bear than a canine, given his massive size. Given how vulnerable I feel at the moment, that truth is exemplified. This is wonderful. Against Wolf River I feel warm, safe, and, pardon my language, hornier than the combined populous of every unicorn in Equestria and Gran Magus combined.

Another desperate moan escapes me as I feel Wolf River’s length brush up against my moist and trembling nethers. They yearn for him, and so do I. I speak to him with my eyes, telling him in silence, I want this.

He obliges by gently easing me onto my back with his forelegs supporting my entire body. I’m at his mercy, completely helpless, and I love it. While his sacred blade teases my need, his stalwart frame shields my body from the candlelight. He lays tender kisses along my cheek before landing one on my lips, then slides his head down my neck.

“What are you- AH!” Equal parts pain and pleasure erupt from the point on which he bites down. His teeth are hardly as sharp as one would expect from a lycan, but I expect a tender bruise to come of this, not that I mind. I want a reminder of this moment.

When the pain comes to an unbearable peak, I snap. I grab Wolf River’s head and coax it into facing mine. “Wolf...” I force my muzzle against his, sending my tongue to touch his. I feel his saliva and mine merge together into a wonderful, delicious mess that hangs by a thread when our lips part. Fully synchronized, we kiss again before I give him possibly my most sultry gaze of the night. All dignity is lost for me. I need to be ravaged. He’s the hunter, and I’m his prey. For once, I don’t mind playing the victim.

He pauses, probably not having expected to see such a profane show from a noblemare, but I’ve lost the ability to care. I’m no noblemare. I’m Wolf River’s. He can do whatever he wishes to me, and I will gladly enjoy it.

With a single true thrust of his hips, his length passes between my lips and courses through my insides, sending an echoing wave of warmth and pleasure through my body and forcing me to purr. Finding how far he can go, Wolf River slowly removes himself from me, leaving the tip kissing my entrance before he moves forward again. “Oooah...” I moan. My hind legs drag across the blankets and my chest presses itself closer against his.

His slow yet gradual thrusts coax more purring from my mouth. Every time his body presses up against my nethers with his pride fully embedded within me, I can’t help but call out with a gasp, coo or a soft “Yes...” I say that as if this a triumph. A huge success. In a way, it is, finally letting go for the first time in many years and experiencing this sort of pleasure. Sweaty, desperate, profane pleasure, sure, but pleasure nonetheless. It’s more of a triumph for Wolf River, finally taking the one he’s felt unrequited love for. He’s probably dreamed of this, ravaging me, making me call out his name. I can’t even hold onto him any longer. I let my forelegs rest on the bed above my head.

I’ve decided to surrender my entire body to him. Despite being so disoriented from his passionate netherhumping, I manage to choke out, “H-here... l-like this...” Still with his throbbing pride held deep within me, I raise a single leg and turn over, giving Wolf River a healthy view of my toned back and bum. He takes the hint with a flustered “Ooh,” wraps his forelegs underneath mine and crosses them over my breast.

I peek back at his red face and nod. “I... I’m ready...” His broad thrusts resume, coating me in more waves of intimate pleasure as my nethers coat him in warm arousal, further intensified by feeling his hot breath on my neck.

I feel so right in so many ways. My innards pulsate every time they feel Wolf River force his way inside. My own moisture coats my legs, playing to my arousal at the sense of touch. My neck still burns from the bite, and that sweet pain is exemplified when I bite down on my lower lip hard enough to tear skin. This all compiles together into a mounting tower of climatic fury that swells throughout my nethers and my head, quickly enveloping the rest of my body.

Finally, like a pebble striking water’s surface, that fury releases. I come, sending more scalding moisture forth from my lips onto Wolf River’s shaft as my moaning reaches operatic heights. It then settles into gradually slowing gasps for air.

“What... what a... gentlecolt... letting me finish first...” I turn back over slightly, reaching out to grasp Wolf River. He guides my hoof and places it to his cheek, letting me feel how warm it is. He then presses my hoof to his heart. It refuses to beat slowly in my presence.

My mind wanders back to the fully aroused length throbbing at my entrance. I return to my submissive position with my rear hiked. “Don’t let that stop you... Please...” I glance back at Wolf River as he positions his hooves on my flanks. “For me...”

All it takes is two thrusts for his sacred blade to twitch and cast forth its large, unforgivingly powerful spell within me. Wolf River’s load tugs at my nerves and forces another climax out of me. I’m caught by surprise and can only purse my lips, preserving my depraved moaning until all that remains is a gasp.

Whilst all that happens, Wolf River, who has been mostly silent for this whole encounter, lets out a howl that quickly turns animalistic and fierce midway through. His body and his length grow in size as he undergoes transformation into a wolf once again. I hiss as my insides adjust for his sudden growth in thickness. “Oh, poor dear... Did you lose control?”

“Stuck...” he speaks in growls. I laugh aloud at the sheer absurdity of all this, but all things considered, despite having an Epona-damned wolf inside of me, this was a triumph indeed. It matters little if he’s stuck. Any excuse to get closer to him until his transformation reverts is fine by me, and even then, who says we have to stop?

It’s the dead of night now. The candlelight has entirely dimmed, leaving only those with keen knowledge of this room able to move about it. It’s fine, though. I don’t intend on leaving. I hardly plan on even setting hoof off this bed.

After Wolf River had calmed himself down and reverted to a more manageable size, we had taken a brief pause to share a glass of peach flavored mead. It was quite tart, but in a good way. After that, we locked lips, made love again, rested for a moment, then made love another time.. It continued along those lines for a while. Each screaming climax was just as satisfying and rewarding as the last. It was the fourth time we had a simultaneous release that Wolf River finally fell asleep, and the last thing he muttered was his official declaration of love for me.

That declaration is why I’m awake now, finishing the last of the peach mead. The last drop falls onto my tongue and I set the glass on the bedside table.

I ask myself more than once if I love him. As I look back at the sleeping stallion, his appearance coming across as more beastly than before, I search my heart for the answer, and come to a conclusion that’s sensical, if not disappointing.

No. I don’t.

That’s not to say I feel nothing for him, otherwise I wouldn’t have let him ravish me. I’m a mare with taste, dammit.

The definite emotion here is respect. Yes, that's it. More than anything, I respect Wolf River. He has power, but no ulterior motive for which to use it, and he's unafraid to admit he has faults. Me, however... I'm quite the braggart at the best of times, aren't I? I talk of honor and authority when all I am is a mare that's too thick headed for need of a helmet. Yet, when the cards fall in the enemy’s favor, I’m quick to accept defeat, whereas Wolf River stands tall and refuses to die.

Despite our differences, we both fight for the same thing: the well-being of our families. Wolf River is everything I wish I could be and at the same time, the exact opposite. But, that's why I think this could work. I rest my head on Wolf River's chest. His beastly heartbeat serves as a lullaby for me.

If I've survived this long with the Carrier Clan, then I can keep at it. I’ve only been with them for a short while, but they've all become a bit like a second family. My home away from home. If they'll continue to put up with my pettiness, hopefully they'll accept me as part of their family too. And, eventually, I guess I could come to love Wolf River.

I truly, truly want to.