Belleton, Chapter One
#1 of Belleton
.
ONE
Turick stepped over a fallen tree, barely bigger than a sapling, the leopard's spotted paws padding over grass wet with the recent storm. The spring rains had been coming especially strong this year. He was lucky to be out hunting under the sun rather than a storm cloud, but with the canopy so thick above him, this part of the forest still hadn't dried out very much.
The village wasn't going to starve if he didn't bring back something that day. They were well enough provisioned to last the week before they ran low on fresh food, easily. The butcher's two apprentices might get bored without anything to carve up, but that was about it.
So it was just as well that Turick's mind was so occupied with something other than tracking. Or with someone, rather.
Solierre.
The rabbit had come to Belleton a couple months ago, joining the other apprentices in the tradesmen's village in the middle of winter, of all times. Snow was no hindrance to the rabbit's studies, though. He was apprenticed to the village baker, a welcome help around the shop, and just as welcome to the rest of the village now that its breads and pastries had doubled. The bunny had been welcomed for more reasons than that, though, his unique appearance drawing the curiosity of all the other apprentices, not least of which Turick himself.
It was the rabbit's unique fur pattern, orange and white with black stripes up and down his body. Turick had only seen Solierre shirtless once, but that was more than enough to intrigue the leopard. The rabbit's father had been a tiger, evidently. Most people took after their mother's species almost completely, but every once in a while the father's genes would bleed through, and in Solierre's case, the effect was spectacular.
It wasn't just the bunny's unique coloration that kept the leopard's thoughts swirling around him, however. Rabbits always looked rather feminine, with their thick legs and full, curvy bottoms. Prey species in general followed that trend, male or female, and there were enough rabbits already in Belleton that Turick would have thought nothing of it, but Solierre's hourglass shape made all the other bunnies look brutish by comparison. That scrawny upper body, narrow shoulders and slender waist tapering out dramatically into wide hips. The rabbit's trousers always did little to hide the shape of his rump, his rear cheeks plump enough that a trace of his pants always wound up riding between them ever so slightly. Then there was the bunny's fluff of tiger-striped tail, always fluttering up like a big, exotic leaf above his backside, every twitch drawing attention to that perfectly curved bottom.
Turick's bow caught on a low branch as he passed beneath it, and he untangled it with a self-conscious laugh, running his paw over his face. He was obsessed with that rabbit. It wasn't healthy. He needed to concentrate on what he was doing. With all of the masters away from the village, all of the huntsmens' apprentices were out roaming the forest and fields around the village, an unspoken competition between them to see who could bring back the biggest game. It was like that every year in the week when the masters left. This might have been only the first day, but Turick would absolutely love to be the first to bring back something meaty and juicy.
And speaking of meaty and juicy...
He sighed, unable to stop himself from imagining what that bunny would look like without his pants. Did his stripes really run all the way down his hips, the way his lower back hinted at? What about the splash of white fur down his chest and belly? How far down did that stretch?
Turick gave his head a shake. It was rude of him to be thinking of a new friend so lewdly. It didn't help that Solierre was always so pleasant to be around. The little rabbit was already one of the most popular apprentices, but he never seemed to notice that, always shy and reserved whenever he was in a crowd. Turick wasn't the only one that flirted with the little guy, especially not once they all figured out how vivid a blush the rabbit could build up in his ears where the fur was thinnest. Solierre always just looked embarrassed and tried to direct the conversation away from himself, and most of the other apprentices limited themselves to teasing.
But the leopard wanted to do so much more. A part of him was falling for the bunny, he knew, but there was still another part of him that could think of nothing beyond sex, and that part of his mind was running rampant right then. He let himself imagine more than just what Solierre's naked legs and butt might look like. He imagined what they would feel like under his palms, against his muzzle, around his--
Turick let out an undignified squawk as the ground gave way under his paws right at the bank of a drained creek bed. He had almost stumbled right over the edge of it without looking, he was so used to hearing it trickling away to warn him he was coming close. Now there was nothing but damp river rocks paving the empty ravine, another fallen tree nearby damming up the creek and redirecting it along another route. The leopard stumbled over the smooth stones, grimacing and reaching down to adjust his plumping sheath through his trousers. He was one erotic thought away from pitching a complete tent. The other huntsmen would never let him live it down if they saw that.
With a sigh, he started to look up at the far bank for a way out of the creek bed, but something glimmered under the sunlight among the stones in front of his feet. It looked like the corner of a black, metal box. Something washed down from the mountain streams, maybe, only now exposed thanks to the creek changing course? That might be as good a prize as shooting down a wild boar.
Well, almost as good a prize, maybe. Turick's stomach rumbled, reminding him how long it had been since breakfast. Still, it all depended on what was inside the box. He lowered himself down to a crouch, brushing river rocks off the nearly buried thing until he could pull it free.
It was about as long as his forearm, and narrow enough to make him wonder even more what could fit inside. Whatever it was, it was heavy, far heavier than the size of the box might have led him to believe.
There wasn't a visible lock on the outside, but at first, the lid was sealed tight. Turick was one of the stronger huntsmen in the village, his arms and torso corded with thick muscle under the spotted yellow fur, but it took him several persistent attempts of prying at that lid before it so much as budged. When it did, it was only a tiny, grinding shift, but it loosened the lid enough that another firm pull made the whole thing pop off the rest of the dark metal box.
It was empty.
Turick rolled his eyes as the breeze shifted directions around him, tossing the two halves of the box back to the creek bed. The breeze grew to a harsh gust, then tapered off and returned to its original direction.
When he stood up and turned back around, there was a rabbit standing on the creek's bank, right where Turick had stumbled down it.
He blinked, trying to make out the rabbit's face. The sun was in Turick's eyes, and the rabbit was standing in the shade of a tree, but the tree's shadow shouldn't have been thick enough to hide the bunny's features as much as it was. "Solierre?" Turick asked, squinting.
The rabbit shook his head slowly. Turick couldn't even make out what the bunny was wearing, just the outline of the lagomorph's body, his ears giving his species away. And given that species, Turick couldn't really be sure whether it was male or female, but there weren't any women at Belleton. Female apprentices studied in another village a few miles down the valley, and they almost never traveled to Belleton.
The rabbit on the bank slowly stretched out its arm, even the color of the fur on its paw indistinguishable. Why was the leopard having such a hard time seeing him? The paw opened, palm outward, and Turick felt a strange impact and contraction right in his pants. The leopard doubled over, paws at his crotch and muzzle open, but his breath caught in his throat as his balls clenched up against his taint, his member flexing powerfully in its sheath. His head snapped up again, but the strange rabbit was gone. The creek bed was as empty as before, only now, the leopard's genitals were in pain, every graze and caress of his trousers against them feeling like coarse wool, the slightest of shifts in his crotch fur sending a spike of discomfort up into his belly.
Something was wrong. His mind was stating the obvious, but he needed to tell himself the same thing two more times before he could get his legs moving. Something was wrong.
Something was wrong, and he needed to get back to the village before it got...wronger. Whatever that phantom rabbit had done, it was making the leopard's genitals swell uncomfortably against the inside of his trousers, his pants feeling tighter by the moment. Turick clambered up the creek's bank, gasping as a throb of arousal lanced through the pain in his groin, mixing with it, making both sensations grow stronger, feeding off of each other.
He...he needed an apothecary. One of the alchemist's apprentices, they would know what to do. He had to get to the apothecary's shop and ask them to treat him for...for hallucinations and...and whatever else was happening to him.
Turick's bow caught on that same damned branch on his way back, and he let it slip from his shoulder, staggering into a trot. A few arrows bounced from his quiver when he jumped over the fallen tree, and he gasped from another aroused throb, his privates bouncing in their overly tight confines from the leap. The leopard shoved the quiver's strap from his shoulder, spilling all the arrows to the ground and leaving it them behind.
Gasping and gulping for air, he ignored his crotch's protests--its eager pulsing--and ran.