FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 9

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Dante

Dillon finished pouring wine into my mug and set the flagon aside on the table between us. He then gulped down some of his own wine. Since the cheetah's visor was open, I could see that his muzzle was drenched with red droplets when he eventually set the mug down. "How does the armor feel?"

Since I defeated him in my initiation, Dillon had insisted on taking me to a nearby tavern as a treat. I felt somewhat guilt for having him pay for my drinks, since I didn't want to waste his money. But, because I was supposed to be blending in with the knights, I didn't object.

Apparently, the tavern that we were currently drinking in had an owner, a talkative squirrel, who gave all of the knights drinks at only half his usually price. When Dillon and I had first entered through the tavern's door as the black feathers of night caressed our backs, the tavern owner had been cleaning a mug behind his counter with a faded rag and almost dropped both of the items upon our entrance. He started babbling to us about how glad he was that we were there as his patrons while he escorted Dillon and I to a table in the back, far away from the other customers, as if he were ashamed to serve anyone but us.

I glanced down at my arms, both of which were folded on top of the table's edge, and saw that the reflections of the candlelight in the tavern gave the metal an unearthly glow, making it seem almost star-like. A smith named Jeremiah made all of the armor for Queen Talis' knights in a forge that was on the northern part of the City, which was where I had gotten my armor from earlier that day. The stallion had measured my arms, legs, the width of my chest and the size of my paws. He didn't have anything pre-forged that would have fit me, but he said that he could have had a custom suit of armor ready in two weeks. However, since I needed armor right away, the smith gave me a suit that was a little too large for my build. The suit, due to its size, felt almost as though it were going to slide off of me with every step I took. To make matters worse, the helmet bounced against the collar of my armor whenever I walked and was already starting to give me a slight headache from its raucous clanging. Hopefully I won't have to wear this for very long.

_ _ "All right," I answered Dillon, picking up my mug of wine and opening my visor, which squeaked as I slid it upwards. "It's a little big, though,"

The cheetah wiped the sheet of wine from his muzzle, using the back of his armored hand to reveal a smile. "You're lucky. I remember when I first enlisted and Jeremiah only had this armor that was too small for me. It squeezed me so tight that, after a few days, I started getting chest pains. And, every time I took it off, it felt like I hadn't breathed in years,"

I took a small sip of my drink, which, I admit, tasted better than I had expected. Maybe because someone else is paying for it."Why does the tavern owner give knights cheaper drinks? Did we help him with some bandits or Talth?"

"No," Dillon said, taking another drink. "He's never had any trouble like that before. I think he does it just to get on our good side. You know? Like, if he ever does get into some deep shit, we'll be more tempted to help him out,"

I glanced over Dillon's shoulder and watched the tavern owner, who was scolding a young barmaid. His hazel fur bristled and he pointed down at something that the wooden counter the girl stood behind prevented me from seeing. I couldn't hear what he was saying to the girl, what with all the droning of the other patrons, but I imagined that his tone was sharp, like a whip, and full of fury. The thought reminded me of the girl, Madyson, who Esme had saved. Then, I felt a blanket of misery wrap around me at the thought of my old friend, engulfing me in its weary hold, and I took another drink.

"He doesn't seem like the friendly type," I said, lowering my mug.

"What do you mean?" Dillon asked.

I bumped my head in the direction of the barmaid, who was a zebra, noticing how she tilted her head to look at the ground in shame as the tiny tavern owner persisted to scold her.

Dillon turned in his chair and twisted his neck so that he could glance at the scene. Then, he rotated back around to face me and sighed. "That's Lucy. Sweet girl, but not too bright. She probably broke a mug or something by accident,"

"How old is she?" I asked, pitying how a youthful girl like her could become desperate enough to work for such a pompous man.

"Seventeen," Dillon said, as he picked up his mug. "Don't get any ideas,"

I removed my gaze from the girl and re-focused on Dillon. "What makes you say that?"

"One of our guys tried to sleep with her," Dillon explained. "Gerald. A few months ago, he stayed really late and kept trying to sweet talk her. She didn't understand that Gerald was interested, so he grabbed her boob to get the message across. Silvio, the squirrel, threw him out, of course. Silvio went to Orin the next day and complained. So, Orin docked Gerald's pay for a week and told him that he should stay away from the tavern for a while,"

"And did he?"

"Sure," Dillon confirmed. "Losing a week's pay was already painful enough for Gerald without Silvio chopping off his hands, too. He's been back, though. I think he came in for a drink at the beginning of this month. He didn't try to do anything to Lucy again,"

"That's good," I said, my sympathy for Lucy rising even higher.

"Personally, I think it was kind of a shitty thing to do, grabbing her like that. She's ten years younger than him. And, even if she were older, he could have just asked her if she was interested in him,"

"I agree,"

"Now all he does is grab whores in Jessica's brothel," Dillon added, snorting. "But that's different than groping a barmaid. Have you heard of Jessica's?"

I shook my head.

"It's a whorehouse not too far from here," Dillon elaborated. "It's very popular. Most of the knights go there. Jessica doesn't give discounts like Silvio does because, you know, she owns a brothel and everything. But, from what I hear, there's a lot of different girls to choose from that are very pretty,"

The cheetah then sipped some of his wine.

"You don't sleep with whores?" I asked, wondering if it was for religious reasons. Dillon didn't seem like the religious type to me. So far, he had cussed and was now openly talking about prostitutes. Esme did all of that, though, and she believed in God.

I drank of mouthful of wine and the thought of Esme, as well as the twinge of gloom that accompanied it, vanished as the cold liquid slithered down into my stomach. I then started to wonder if Dillon was gay.

_ _ "No," Dillon said, lowering his mug. "I'm married,"

"Oh," I said, surprised at how such a young man could already be married. "How long?"

"We met when I was fourteen and married three years ago, just after I turned sixteen,"

The cheetah's young age confounded me for a moment, but, after recalling how well he fought in the courtyard, I understood how he received his position as a knight. "Do you have any children?"

Dillon smiled and shook his head. "No, but Sarah, my wife, wants to. She wants a boy and a girl. Maybe I'll introduce you once you get used to living here. I'm sure she'd love to have you over. She'll probably make you her cabbage stew, which, by the way, tastes incredible,"

My ear twitched. "You don't live in the barracks?"

"Oh, no. We don't have to live in the barracks. All the knights who are married usually buy a house, since having a family in one room would be really cramped,"

"But, if you don't live in the barracks, how do you get your assignments?"

Dillon shrugged. "Orin usually gives notes to one of the patrols that walk around the City and they drop them off during their rounds,"

"Oh," I said, recalling how I was given a note earlier saying that I had guard duty the next day at sunrise. "Now, could you tell me more about our shifts? I have one tomorrow morning in front of the southern gate. How long will it be and how many men will I be with?"

"Shifts are usually only two or three hours," Dillon explained. "We have a decent amount of men, which is why shifts are so short. There'll probably be two or three knights with you,"

"Okay," I said, relieved that I finally knew more about what was going to happen the next day. "Thank you,"

"Don't mention it," Dillon said, just before drinking more of his wine.

Suddenly, I remembered Gwen. Her voice, when she had feistily refused to surrender the sword she held, was as soft as the pattering of raindrops sprinkling against the ground. Her fur, which seemed as smooth as silk, was black like the ashes from a blazing fire. Her eyes, her big blue eyes, were as bright as gurgling streams in a forest. She almost seemed like a figment of my imagination, as though she were something that could only have ever appeared in my dreams. Yet, there she had been, breathing, talking and standing before me. I wanted to hold her and kiss her lips, which I imagined were as sweet as honey. I had fantasized about what it would feel like to have her body pressed against mine, our fur mingling, as the warmth of our physical beings overlapped like two meeting bodies of water that combine into one.

What would it have been like to lie in bed together on a blistery winter night, our bodies and the bed sheets being our only sources of heat? I imagined her arms wrapping around my chest, refusing to let me rise from the bed. I, of course, would have had no intention of abandoning her beneath the covers. I imagined pulling her close to me, my hands cupping her curvy hips. Her breasts would have then pressed against my figure, feeling as soft as the plumage of a bird, and we would have stared into each other's eyes. Slowly, she would have leaned forward and kissed me, causing me forget about the coldness that lurked just outside of our bed and waited for us to leave like a hunter that awaits its prey to wander into the open. Our hands would have caressed our physiques and quiet moans would have been made. Then, we would have made love and everything would have felt new, as though both of us were virgins. And, after our labored breathing was finished and our mouths ceased their endless supply of kisses, we would have fallen asleep in each other's arms.

This fantasy and the memory of Gwen barging out of the barracks had been stuck inside of my mind throughout the entire day. She was more beautiful than any woman or man I had ever seen before. In fact, these thoughts pertaining to Gwen often led to me becoming hard, but, fortunately, my new suit of armor prevented my physical excitement from being noticeable. It had also become evident as to why Tess had told me not touch her sister, who was beyond beautiful. Yet, every time I recalled Tess' order to not touch Gwen, my heart burned warmer and my cock grew firmer.

"How long has the witch been a prisoner?" I asked, hoping that maybe Dillon could give me some details about Gwen. What was she like? Did she swear often, or was her tongue as holy as a priest's? Did she love to read literature like I did? I absolutely had to know more about her, but I couldn't have allowed Dillon to know of my true intentions, so I acted as though I were relaxed and took another sip of wine.

"About three days now," Dillon said. "A patrol of ours saw her use magic and knocked her out before she knew they were there. She's been in the cells ever since,"

"Why hasn't she been executed?" I asked, hoping that there was still time to save her.

"Queen Talis has gone north to the Fanged Peaks. From what I hear, she wants to wait for Capres to arrive so she can ask him a few things,"

I felt my tail twitch inside of my armor. "Why hasn't one of her children given the order then?"

"She doesn't have any. Nobody knows why. Some say she and King Talis never really liked each other enough to have children. Others say King Talis liked men,"

I had never heard of these rumors before, so I found the subject rather fascinating. "And you?"

"Me?"

"You must have a theory of your own," I said. "I'm curious about what it is,"

Dillon scratched his cheek and said, "I think one of them probably couldn't have kids. They were... What's the word?"

"Infertile?"

"Yeah. Infertile. I mean, kings and queens need to have children. If they don't, someone else they probably don't know or like gets their palace, gold and land. And their family name dies. So why wouldn't they want kids? That's what makes me think one of them was infertile. They just couldn't have any, even if they tried every day,"

I nodded, admitting that Dillon's idea made sense. Still, there may have been another reason for the two never furthering their bloodlines. I suppose we'll never know.

_ _ Over Dillon's shoulder, I saw the tavern door swing open. Through the black open doorway stepped Orin, his eyelids wearily hanging over his eyes like a pair of old curtains. The door closed itself behind him and Silvio immediately began to greet the coyote with a warm smile, forgetting all about Lucy, who stood idly by now.

Orin listened to what the squirrel had to say for a moment and smiled weakly, shaking his head. He said something and Silvio looked across the tavern towards me. Silvio then looked back at Orin, pointing at Dillon and I.

The captain turned his head and met my eyes with his own, which seemed to lose their weariness when they found me.

"What are you looking at?" Dillon asked, just before turning around in his seat. "What's the captain doing here?"

Orin gave Silvio a quick smile and final glance before he began to walk across the tavern, heading directly towards Dillon and I.

"Why wouldn't he be here?" I whispered. "I thought you said all knights get drinks for half price,"

Dillon turned around to face me and whispered, "I've never seen him in here. I don't think I've even seen a goblet of wine in his quarters before, either,"

As I looked up to see Orin closing in on our table, I began to ponder what a man like him, who didn't drink, was doing inside of a tavern. A feeling of uneasiness began to creep its way inside of me, like a disease that is birthed beneath your awareness and slowly destroys you from the inside. Did he suspect that I had an ulterior motive for becoming a knight?

_ _ I recalled staring at Gwen earlier that day, when she stepped out of the barracks, and how entranced I was by her gorgeousness. I had been so hypnotized by the sight of her that I had forgotten how Orin was standing beside to me. Did he notice my tender gaze and think I was interested in her? It was a little extreme to assume such an idea, but I did hear about a knight trying to have sex with Gwen when he was supposed to have been guarding her. I also heard how she had snapped the knight's neck. Was that Orin's reason for visiting the tavern? Did he want to make sure that I wasn't going to try sleeping with her as well? If so, I doubted that I would have had guard duty in the cells any time soon, which would have only delayed my plan of saving Gwen, since I deemed killing the other knight on guard duty with me and fleeing as the best course of action. _I think this is the first time staring at a pretty girl has gotten me in trouble. _

_ _ Orin now halted at the left side our table, his body facing towards the wall to my right as he looked down at Dillon and I. His armor glowed in the candlelight, just like mine did, and he smiled at me. "I see you're enjoying your first day,"

"Yes, sir," I said, respectfully.

_ _ The captain laughed. "You're the first new recruit to call me 'sir' right away. Usually I have to tell them to do so,"

"I remember when I was first recruited," Dillon said, smiling. "It took me a week to stop calling you by your first name,"

"Really?" I asked, trying to imagine Dillon as a stammering boy in armor.

"Yep," Dillon chuckled. "I could hardly believe I was a knight. Sometimes I even forgot that he was my captain,"

"You learned, though," Orin kindly spoke, as though he were afraid of causing the cheetah some offense.

"Eventually," Dillon replied, rolling his eyes at the memory. "So, what brings you here, captain?"

"Oh," Orin said, seeming befuddled by the question as his ears fell back. "I wanted to see how Aaron was doing. You know how all our new recruits get dragged off to Jessica's. You were the only person who was excused from that rite of passage, weren't you, Dillon?"

I saw Dillon nod, confirming the story. "They wanted me to, but didn't push it, since I married Sarah a week before,"

"You were a newlywed and they still asked you?" I said, bewildered and slightly repulsed.

"They just asked me and left it alone," Dillon told me, "which is a lot nicer than what they normally do when a new recruit doesn't go.

"Last year, a boy named Wilson joined us. He's dead now. His horse got scared when it saw some wild wolves and kicked him right off before it stepped on his head. The night he joined, some guys carried him to Jessica's after he turned their offer down and stripped him of his armor as they marched through the City. From what I hear, they held Wilson down so the prostitute could make him finish inside her,"

Orin's eyes grew gentle at the story and his ears remained folded back. "He never forgave them for that, Fredrick or the others. Not that he needed to. He was more noble than any of them,"

"He was," Dillon agreed, sullenly glancing down at the table.

Gradually, Dillon scooted his chair back and stood. "Well, I should be going,"

"So soon?" I asked. "We still have a whole flagon,"

"I have guard duty at the northern gate before sunrise," Dillon said. "I wasn't planning on staying too long anyways. But, since the captain's here, you two can talk instead,"

"I'll pay for the wine then," Orin offered, his ears finally rising. "It doesn't look like you've drank that much and I'd hate for you to pay for the whole flagon,"

"It's no trouble, sir," Dillon said. "Silvio only charges half price and I rarely ever come in for a drink anyways,"

"Are you sure?" Orin asked.

"Yes, sir," Dillon said with a smile. "Don't worry. Just enjoy it,"

Dillon then looked down at me. "Good night, Aaron,"

"Good night, Dillon,"

"Have a nice evening," Orin wished the cheetah. "Give my regards to Sarah,"

"Thank you, sir," Dillon said, still wielding a smile. "I will,"

The cheetah turned and walked over to Silvio. His back was to me and I saw him remove the purse from his belt. He held it in front of him and took out some coins, placing them on the counter, which Silvio eyed with desire. A moment later, the squirrel's hands moved and he smiled at Dillon, saying something that I couldn't make out.

Dillon then tied his purse back onto his belt and walked out the door as he closed his visor.

I turned my head and noticed that Orin was staring at me. Upon the meeting of our gazes, Orin blinked and gently sat down in the empty chair. "I guess we should use this to become better acquainted,"

The coyote then gave me a forced smile and extended his hand out over the table. "Orin Kisler. Pleasure to meet you,"

After giving a friendly smile, I stretched out my arm and clasped my hand against his. "Aaron Dern,"

Slowly, I pulled my hand away and Orin, even more slowly, drew his towards himself, and allowed it to sink beneath the table.

"So," I said, after finishing the puddle of wine at the bottom of my mug, "how long have you been a knight?"

"Oh," Orin said, seeming surprised by the question as his ears twitched. "About seven years,"

My tail bristled beneath my armor and I could feel my ear rise inside of my helmet. "Seven years? You were fourteen when you became a knight?"

"Of course not! What makes you think that?"

"You're not twenty-one?"

Orin snorted and began to laugh, bringing his hand up to cover his eyes for a moment. When he was eventually able to contain his laughter behind a smug grin, Orin lowered his hand to reveal his eyes, which were watering with joy. He also spoke with a voice that was low and on the verge of chuckling. "I'm twenty-eight, but thanks for the compliment,"

"Really?" I asked, actually baffled. "You're twenty-eight?"

"Yes!" Orin said, his smile still beaming. "I was recruited when I was twenty-one and became a captain at twenty-five. Why is that surprising to you?"

"It's just..." I said, grasping for the right words. "You look so young,"

"Thanks, again,"

"You're welcome," I said, grinning at just how wrong I was about the coyote's age. "I'm sure women just fawn over you,"

The smile vanished from Orin's face and, for a moment, he gave a weak shrug. "Well, you know, I have my work. Watching over the City takes up all of my time, so I...haven't had time for women,"

"Not even whores?" I asked.

The coyote shook his head. "I've never been interested in whorehouses,"

Gradually, Orin picked up the flagon next to him and poured a river of wine into his mug, which had been Dillon's before the cheetah left. When he was done, Orin set the flagon in the center of the table and downed all of the wine in his mug with one attempt, not even stopping for gulps of air. It was startling to see him devour wine so hastily, especially when I recalled Dillon's earlier words. I_'ve never seen him in here. I don't think I've even seen a goblet of wine in his quarters before, either._

Gently, as Orin finished chugging the wine and set his mug down, I took the flagon and filled my cup halfway to the top with wine that seemed almost as dark as blood.

"You weren't dragged off to Jessica's the night after your recruitment?" I asked, setting the flagon back down between us.

"No," Orin admitted, picking up the flagon and refilling his mug. "Jessica's brothel wasn't built until two years after I became a knight,"

Once the wine had nearly reached the brim of Orin's mug, he set the flagon down and I decided to change the subject, suspecting that it may have been bothering him. "Any suggestions for my first day?"

The captain picked up his mug and thought for a moment, staring into the red abyss of the drink. Then, he gave me a strange look, which seemed to be a peculiar combination of pity and pain. "Make friends,"

Orin bent his head back and guzzled down his wine just as quickly as before. He then set his mug down on the table and immediately began to refill it a second time.

I considered telling Orin that he probably shouldn't have drank anymore, but I didn't. How could I? I was his subordinate now. He gave the orders and I obeyed, not the other way around. And I certainly didn't want to create any trouble, considering that Peter's life was at risk.

"Are you adjusting to knighthood well?" Orin asked me, setting the flagon down and looking at me from across the table.

"So far," I said. "I haven't stepped on anyone's toes yet, so that's something,"

"Soon enough, you will," Orin warned me, holding up his mug and smelling the scent of his drink as though it were an intoxicating perfume that a lover had left on his pillow after a night of passion. "In this job, or any other, making enemies is practically unavoidable,"

"Are you speaking about anybody in particular?" I asked, catching a small hint of distaste in his voice.

Orin paused, lowering his drink from his muzzle, but still held it close to his breastplate. "I had to visit Fort Balther today,"

"Does the stonework offend you?" I japed, hoping that it would make him feel slightly merrier.

The captain didn't laugh or smile. "The fort's in terrible shape, I admit. But it's not the fort that troubles me. It's the fort's captain,"

I recalled what Tess told me of this captain that Orin was referring to. According to Tess, he tortured his prisoners. Maybe I can find out if Peter's still in one piece.

_ _ "He used to be a Talth," Orin continued, staring down into his wine as though he were standing on a tall ledge and looking down into a canyon below him. "Julian. That's why I never trusted him. I never visited the fort before today, since I heard the rumors of how he treats his prisoners. But I had to go. I had no choice. And the things I saw and heard..."

Orin looked up from the wine and his eyes filled with terror, as if he saw a ghost hovering behind me. "I doubt I'll ever forget,"

"What urgent business made you go?" I asked, trying not to sound too interested. "It must have been really important if you've avoided the fort until now,"

Orin blinked and looked back into his drink. Then, he drank his wine, just as easily as he had the previous two mugs, and set it down when he had finished. "There was this prisoner," he said, clearly suppressing a belch. "He... He had something important to tell Queen Talis. But, after Julian questioned him, it turned out he was lying so he could get gold,"

My tail twitched at the tale. Was this prisoner Peter? Or did Orin fabricate the story, deeming that having Peter Gannish as a prisoner should be kept secret? Suddenly, the insides of my stomach began to tense. Did Peter try to lie his way to freedom, only to be tortured?

As desperately as I needed to receive answers for these questions, I didn't further press the topic. If I did, Orin may have grown suspicious. So, instead, I allowed him to pour himself another mug of wine and asked, "How does a Talth become the captain of a fort?"

"Treachery," Orin spat, completely filling his mug with wine before pushing the flask aside. "Julian heard that the Talth leader before Osric was trying to assassinate Queen Talis. So he went to the Queen and told her. As a reward, she gave him his position. The blood of his friends hadn't even dried by the time he moved into the fort,"

"Julian let his friends die?" I asked, growing more fearful with every new piece of information that I received about Peter's captor.

"Yes," Orin said. "It's one thing to be a Talth. It's another to kill all your friends for your own personal gain. When I got to the fort, I even saw a Talth he had castrated and cut open. The man would throw his own mother under a moving wagon if it meant he'd get something out of it,"

As Orin tilted his head back and chugged the entire mug of wine, I recalled how Lant Ulpis had murdered both his father and brother just hours after sleeping with me. There was still a sting that accompanied the memory, like an infected scar that burns when you touch it, but it wasn't enough to make me feel like weeping. Still, due to Orin's description, I began to grow more wary about Peter's safety.

_ _ "He sounds awful,"

Orin lowered his empty mug and sighed. "There's a special place in hell for people like that,"

_ I resisted the urge to make a reference to The Divine Comedy, realizing that the son of a smith probably wouldn't be familiar with the epic poem. Also, I didn't want to change the subject, since I hoped to learn more about this Julian Vercer. Orin may have known about some sort of weakness Julian had or a handicap that I could have exploited. But, if he did, I would have had to be careful about how I went about asking him. _I might be able to ask him directly if he drinks another mug or two. "Does he at least treat his men with some respect?"

"No," Orin scoffed, pouring himself more wine. "There were a hundred and sixty knights at that fort a year ago. Now there's only fifty,"

"Fifty?" I gasped, letting my surprise get the better of me.

"I wish I was joking," Orin grimly said, setting the flagon down. He then guzzled his wine with ease.

After the captain placed his empty mug onto the table, I noticed that his head hung slightly down. Then, he looked up and covered his face with both hands, groaning into his fingers.

"What is it?" I asked him, hoping he wasn't growing ill before I could retrieve more information from him.

"I forgot to visit the witch," Orin grumbled, lowering his hands onto the table. "I promised her I would, but, after visiting Julian, I... I just forgot. I'll have to do that tomorrow morning,"

Sluggishly, both of the coyote's hands eased around the flagon and awkwardly held it over his mug as he filled it. The stream of wine was moving back and forth in mid air as Orin's uncoordinated hands had trouble keeping the flagon still. His eyes also seemed empty and unfocused, like the eyes of a man who hasn't slept well in days.

I found it odd that he had become intoxicated so quickly, but it was possible that he hadn't eaten dinner or had much of a tolerance for alcohol. Regardless of how Orin got drunk, though, I had to find out if Julian or his fort had any weaknesses. "How can you face Julian if he's as cruel as you say? I'd be terrified if even half of what you've told me is true. Is there something you know about him that you could exploit if he attacked you?"

"No," Orin admitted, as the wine ceased to flow from the flagon, leaving his mug only half full. The coyote then slowly turned the flagon upside down and patted the base, as if he expected more wine to come out. Yet, not a single drop left the flagon.

With a sigh of disappointment, Orin put the flagon on the table, turned around in his chair and shouted over the chatter inside the tavern, "Silvio! Bring me another flagon!"

The squirrel's ears perked at the captain's command and he strutted over to us in a timely manner with a flagon of wine.

"Making up for lost time, Captain Kisler?" the tavern owner joked, as he set the new flagon on the tableside. "Not that I'm complaining, sir. It's always good to have decent men in service to Queen Talis inside my tavern. I've always felt like-"

"Thank you for your service, Silvio," Orin said, plopping his purse onto the table and taking out a handful of gold.

Silvio took the gold, having to use both of his tiny hands to do so, and gave the captain a look of disbelief. "Sir, this is enough for five flagons, not just-"

"Keep it," Orin said, closing his purse and tying it to his belt with great difficulty, particularly having trouble with the strings, which seemed to keep unraveling. "Consider it a thank you for your service to my men,"

"Oh..." Silvio said, awkwardly standing at the tableside with a pile of gold in his hands. "Well, sir, I must say this is very generous. Thank you!"

Without squeaking another word of gratitude, Silvio turned and left us alone once more, the gold coins jingling together like tiny bells in his fingers with every step he took.

Orin finally managed to successfully tie his purse to his belt and finished filling his mug with fresh wine. He then immediately began to guzzle it down after putting the flagon down to the left, next to the empty one.

"So," I said, hoping that Orin would further discuss Julian or Fort Balther, "how do you face such a monster? There must be something you know or have to keep yourself safe,"

"I deal with Julian only when I have no other option," Orin said, lightly banging his mug against the table and sighing. "God help him..." he said, his eyelids closing as if he were in danger of falling asleep. "Peter..."

My heart contorted inside of me. So he did see Peter. Is he in danger? Did Julian harm him?

_ _ "Peter?" I asked, naively. "Is that a friend of yours at the fort?"

"No," Orin said, opening his eyes and now lifting the flagon of wine to his muzzle just before taking a long sip. "He's one of Orin's prisoners. The only prisoner..."

Good. Peter's still alive.

_ _ "Oh," I said, still pretending to be unsure of who Orin was talking about.

"I just..." Orin said, before sipping more wine directly from the flagon. "No one deserves to be that lunatic's prisoner,"

Without another word, Orin lifted the flagon back up to his mouth and guzzled as much wine as he possibly could.

Finally, after a long series of deep gulps, Orin yanked the flagon away from his own lips, gasping for air like someone who has nearly drowned.

He placed the flagon down and allowed his shaking hands to slowly pull away. His eyes were now overflowing with tears and had become puffy.

"I hate it sometimes," he whimpered, his eyes growing red like berries. "Being a captain. Men obey my orders and die under my command, but none of them really know who I am. They lay their lives down for me and Queen Talis. And I hide behind a mask like a coward,"

The coyote's eyes wrinkled shut, squeezing out tears, and he covered his face with both of his hands as he began to tremble. "Every day, I feel like I'm slowly bleeding to death," he sniveled, his voice cracking.

Worried that Orin might have been creating a scene, I gazed over his shoulder. Nobody was even looking in the direction of our table.

As I glanced back at Orin, he proceeded to wipe away tears from his face with the back of his hands. "I don't want to die alone..."

He's going to start sobbing in a moment.

_ _ Assuming that he, the Captain of Queen Talis' knights, wouldn't want to be seen crying in a tavern, I leaned across the table and whispered, "Do you want me to help you to your quarters?"

Orin's head hung low, facing down towards his lap, and he meekly nodded.

Gradually, I slid off my chair and walked around the table. I then gently took Orin's right arm and draped it over my shoulder, shortly before Orin rose from his seat. His body trembled inside his armor, making the metal buckles that kept the plates together rattle like leaves in a storm. He leaned against me and, surprisingly, was actually very light.

I turned us both, Orin's paws nearly dragging across the floor, and walked the knight to the door.

As we passed the counter, which Silvio and Lucy both stood behind, Silvio noticed us and said with a toothy grin, "Have a good night, gentlemen!"

"You too," I said.

"G'night," Orin said, curtly.

We stepped outside and began walking. Beneath us, the cobbled streets of Sleeping Sun thumped with every step I took and screamed with every scruff that Orin's dragging paws left behind. Meanwhile, the night sky was pure black, like death, and greedily hid the stars, preventing anyone from gazing upon their twinkling beauty through the ominous clouds that hung above us.

While we continued to walk, I looked over at Orin, noticing that his eyes were only halfway open.

"Are you all right?" I asked, mid-step.

He grunted.

"Okay," I said, assuming that he was. "If you need to throw up, just let me know,"

Orin didn't grunt again.

When we finally reached the barracks, two knights stood on duty before the front door. I didn't know who they were or what species they belonged to. I also couldn't detect their scents, since Orin's breath sweetly reeked of wine.

"What happened to the captain?" the knight on the right asked me.

I stopped walking, allowing my paws to rest for a brief moment. "Wine got the better of him,"

"I thought the captain didn't drink," the knight on the right said, a hint of suspicion looming in his voice.

Fortunately, just as my fur began to prickle with anxiety, the knight on the left turned to face the one on the right and said, "Of course the captain drinks. Who doesn't? I bet he just does it alone. He's the captain! He's got appearances to worry about,"

"Seems like he didn't care about his appearance tonight," the knight on the right noted, still keeping the front of his helmet aimed at me.

_ _ "Can you blame him?" I said, realizing how I could quench the knight's qualms. "He had to visit Captain Vercer at Fort Balther. Any normal person would drink after dealing with that sick asshole,"

"Vercer?" the knight on the left said, turning his helmet to face me. "Jesus. No wonder the captain drank himself silly. That bastard's crazy,"

"Yeah. Now can I help the captain to his chamber now?"

"Sure," the knight on the right said.

Both men stepped aside, allowing me passage through the door.

As I walked forward and stretched one arm out to turn the doorknob, the knight on the left asked me, "Do you want any help?" My first instinct was to say yes, but then I remembered that I still needed more information from Orin. I probably won't get a better chance than this.

"No," I said, pulling the door open. "Thanks for offer, though,"

I entered the barracks and slammed the door shut behind me with a kick before walking up the stairs to the left. For every wooden step, I had to pull Orin up like a doll by both of his arms, which would have been easier if we both weren't wearing full suits of armor.

When we finally arrived at the top of the staircase, I lifted Orin over the last step and dragged him all the way to the end of the hall. My arms were giving out at that point and I could feel the captain slipping from my grasp.

After I set the coyote down next to the door of his quarters, pressing his back against the wall, Orin blinked and slowly glanced around, like someone who wakes up in a foreign place. "This isn't my room,"

"No," I said, stretching my arms towards the ceiling, the muscles in them exploding with relief. "This is the hall,"

"Oh..." Orin said, sounding almost disappointed.

A moment later, when my arms were feeling stronger, I opened the door to Orin's room. I found a large desk to my right, which held a few piles of paper that were neatly stacked around the edges of its tabletop, allowing ample space in the desk's center. There also was a quill dipped in a bottle of ink in the left hand corner of the desk. However, in the center of the room lay Orin's bed, which was wide enough for four of me to sleep in. It's sheets were bright crimson, glowing like a pool of wine does in moonlight. Just ahead of me and pressed against the left wall of the room was a large tub, a tub that had been constructed of porcelain and contained fresh water. Above it, there hung an iron bar across the wall that held out a dry grey towel. And, finally, I noticed two hazel doors, each of which stood on the side of the wall across from me. Probably his closet and privy.

_ _ I turned from the doorway and hoisted Orin up. After proceeding to drag him into his quarters, I sat him down on the edge of his bed, facing me.

"Do you need help undoing your armor?" I asked.

Orin's right hand rose to his left shoulder and slowly fumbled with the buckles of his armor. A moment later, he lowered his hand and nodded.

"Okay,"

Gradually, I sat myself down next to him, taking a place on the bed at his left side. As I proceeded to undo his armor with incredible ease, Orin watched me with his hazy eyes, appearing like a man who is sleepwalking. And, if that wasn't a sign of how inebriated he was, I could still smell his wine-drenched breath as it warmly washed over my muzzle, allowing the smell of sour grapes in the air between us to become more prominent.

Soon, I had removed Orin's breastplate and gauntlets, just before setting them on the ground by my paws. Then, I rose from the bed and sat down by Orin's legs on the floor, which I began to strip as well.

_ _ When I had finished my task, I shoved all of the armor, as well as Orin's belt and the sword attached to it, into a pile by his desk.

"Is this fine?" I asked, pointing at the mound of his possessions as I turned to face the captain.

"Yes," the coyote groaned, now only wearing a loose white tunic and a pair of black trousers.

I took a step forward, hovering over Orin as he silently sat on the bedside. Not wanting to dive back into the subject of Peter and arouse suspicion, I decided to pussyfoot around the subject of the prince for a little while. "You should probably sleep with your head hanging off the side of your bed. That'll keep you from choking on your own puke while you sleep,"

Orin hung his head low. "I've made an ass of myself,"

"We all let alcohol get the better of us sometimes," I said, hoping to assuage him of any shame as I recalled how Esme and Peter slept together after they both drank wine in the Iron Pass. "I had two friends who drank too much and slept with each other. They didn't tell me what happened, but it was obvious because of the smell. So don't fret. I promise not tell anyone,"

"The men on duty saw me," he said, his head slowly tilting back so that he could stare up at me with fatigued eyes. "By morning, ever knight in the City will know. It's only a matter of time before Queen Talis hears how her captain is a drunken idiot,"

"Based on what you've told me about your men tonight, I doubt most of them will criticize you, or report you to Queen Talis. And honest men like Dillon will be humble enough to understand that you made an isolated mistake,"

Orin's eyes fluttered closed and he lowered his head down to face his lap. "You talk very well..."

A smile slashed across my face. "So I've been told,"

Orin began to sob.

Feeling my ear fall back with sympathy, I sat next to the captain and tried to comfort him. "It's all right. All you did was drink a little too much tonight. There are much worse things to be ashamed of,"

The captain buried his face into my shoulder, moistening my armor with fresh tears, and proceeded to wrap his arms around my chest. "I didn't... I didn't even want to go drinking..."

Worry crept into my belly. "Then why did you come to the tavern?"

"When I got back from Balther..." he cried, "I was told that...Dillon took you there,"

"You wanted to check up on me?" I asked, confused.

Gradually, Orin raised his head off my shoulder and stared into my eyes. He then threw his head forward and kissed me, driving his wine-tasting tongue between my lips, which were exposed since my visor was still raised.

Taken back by the kiss, I sat there motionless, uncertain of what to do as Orin's tongue traced over my mouth and the tip of my own tongue.

Before I could bring myself to stop the drunken coyote, or even pull my head back, Orin tore his mouth away from mine. After pulling away, his eyes began to water again and his body trembled. "I'm sorry..."

Without giving me a chance to speak, Orin buried his muzzle against the side of my neck and proceeded to sob like an ashamed sinner who begs a priest for absolution.

"You have no idea," he sniffed, "what you're doing to me... I can't control it anymore. After so many years of hiding... I'm such an idiot,"

Suddenly, before I could respond, I recalled the night my father beat me after he discovered me masturbating to a painting of a naked male fox. Had Orin been dealt a similar torture by his own father? Perhaps. And, even if he wasn't, Orin had to hide his sexuality because he was a knight. At least I was able to be who I was when I ran away from home. I was also able to run away without many people looking for me. I was, after all, the youngest of five sons, four of whom could all take my father's crown instead of me. But Orin... I imagined that knighthood was all he had. Running away from that would have most likely been very painful for him. It probably would have been just as difficult for a poet to give up writing or for a singer to forsake his own voice. He couldn't run away like I did, especially since he was far too trusting and kind to wander around Alpis.

Carefully, I wrapped my arms around the coyote, feeling pity for him and tried to imagine the pain that he had been enduring for years. I opened my mouth to explain that I knew how he had felt, but then an idea slithered into my mind, a wicked idea that I was ashamed to even consider.

I stared down at the coyote and watched his body quiver as even more sobs came spewing out of him. I can sleep with him to save Gwen.

_ _ I didn't enjoy the thought, using his vulnerability against him, particularly because he was drunk. But, if I did and perhaps, one day, suggested to him that I was tired of regular patrols, I could have gotten guard duty in the cells. I still felt horrible about the plan, but, if I went through with it, I would have been able to save both Gwen and Peter's lives. Two lives for the price of one man's shame. Yet, even with that in mind, I still felt incredibly guilty. Here was a man who poured his heart out to me and had been sobbing on my shoulder, while all I could think about was exploiting his pain. But then I remembered who held Peter prisoner and all of the things that I had heard about him. I had no choice. I'm doing this to save my friend. That's all. Not because I find any pleasure in it.

_ _ I took a deep breath and gently lifted Orin's head from my shoulder, bringing his tear-stained face and confused crimson eyes only a few inches in front of my muzzle. There's no turning back.

_ _ I brought my lips to Orin's, watching the confusion in his eyes morph into surprise, which then melted away as he proceeded to return my kiss with his own.

His hands slowly slid from my back and came up to my helmet. Orin's fingers slid beneath it, removing the piece of armor from my head, and tossed it over to where his possessions lay.

The coyote then continued to kiss me and he clasped his hands behind my skull, drawing me closer to him.

Orin mumbled something into my mouth, words that I didn't quite catch. So, I removed my lips from his and began to kiss the captain's neck, allowing him to speak the words into the chilly air of the room, rather than the warm inside of my mouth.

"I want you," he moaned, softly.

Slowly, I raised my head, brushing the fur of my cheek against his and whispered into his ear, "I want you, too,"

With his hands trembling, Orin began undoing my armor, yanking at the buckles with his trembling hands.

"No," I whispered, smoothly pulling his hands away from me.

The coyote's blue eyes widened with fear. "I thought you wanted..."

"I do," I said, "but let me undress myself. It'll be easier. And you'll have the pleasure of watching me,"

Orin's ears rose and he grinned with titillation. "Okay,"

I slid off of the bed and stood upright, just before turning to face Orin. Okay, Dante. You've been with enough whores to know how teasing works. Just take it really slow.

_ _ Steadily, I raised my right arm and unbuckled my left gauntlet, allowing it to fall lifelessly to the floor with a deafening clank. I did the same for my right gauntlet and then slid out of my breastplate, revealing the new white tunic that I had been given earlier that day to replace my torn one.

As I bent down to set my breastplate on the floor and began to undo the buckles on my greaves, I noticed that Orin's arousal was pressing against his trousers, seeming as though it were about to rip through the fabric with excitement. I must be doing well.

_ _ Once my legs were bare, I slowly began to pull off my tunic, as though I were a virgin who was nervous about their first time. While doing so, I gave Orin a rascally smile. He didn't notice, though, and only continued to gape at my muscles, which must have been barely visible through the thick shadows of the dim room.

Finally, my tunic was off, so I eased my thumbs between the waistband of my trousers and my hips, sliding the trousers down a few inches until they fell upon my bare paws.

As I kicked the trousers away, I looked at Orin, who was eyeing the growth that was hardly concealed by my loincloth.

"Am I that handsome?" I asked, breathlessly, as I caressed the front of my loincloth with my hand, sending prickles of excitement running down my hardness.

Orin's mouth opened and lifelessly hung in place for a moment before he could find the words that seemed to have been evading him. "You're perfect,"

"Perfect? I've been called a lot things, but never perfect,"

"You are..." he said, gazing at my bulge.

"How do you know that," I said, rotating so that my back faced the captain, "when you haven't seen the rest of me?"

I placed both of my hands on my sides and slid them downwards, caressing my fur with warm fingers, and reached the waistband of my loincloth. Slowly, as my fingers and thumbs tenderly squeezed the waistband of the garment, I exposed my backside to Orin, feeling the cold air caress the crevice between my cheeks with an icy embrace. As I slid the loincloth further down my legs, I raised my tail and slightly bent over, teasing Orin with the sight of my ass.

"Oh," he said with a shiver in his voice.

After pulling my loincloth over both of my paws and tossing it to the side, I turned around and exposed my erect cock to Orin, its tip reaching out for him like a lover who craves their companion's touch.

"Oh crap," I said, a realization hitting me like a smack on the rump. "We forgot to lock your door,"

Orin silently stared at my cock, deafened to my words by both lust and wine.

"Well," I said, turning to strut towards the door, "I'm glad you're excited, but I'd prefer it if nobody walked in on us,"

I found a latch that was bronze and seemingly fresh forged, which hung almost at eye level on the door. With two fingers, I pulled the tiny bar through the metal frame and across two inches of the door. The metal clinked, signaling that it could stretch out no further, and I turned to walk back towards Orin.

The coyote's blue eyes were wide with wonderment as I walked over and sat down at his right side, as if I had placed him under some kind of trance. He didn't even speak. Instead, he only gawked at my physique with amazement.

"Have you ever done anything before?" I asked, wanting to see how much experience he had so that I could have avoided any possible complications.

He blinked. "Umm..."

"Have you ever had sex before?" I said, deciding to be more direct after recalling the large amount of wine he guzzled down earlier.

Orin cleared his throat and shook his head, still staring at my chest. "No,"

"Not even with a woman?"

The captain shook his head again.

"All right," I said, deciding that I needed to treat the coyote with utmost gentleness. "What about with someone's mouth? Has anyone used their mouth or tongue on you?"

"No," Orin said, his voice trembling at the thought as his ears folded back.

"Kissing?" I asked, deeming that kissing probably had been the most intimate physical contact he had ever experienced.

Much to my surprise, Orin shook his head. "Not before you,"

"A blank slate?" I chuckled, sliding closer to him and brushing our sides together as I wrapped my left arm around his waist. "I promise to be gentle. If you don't like something I'm doing, just tell me to stop. Okay?"

"Okay," he murmured, his tail flicking behind him on the bed.

Tenderly, I leaned my head in and kissed him, beckoning the attention of his tongue with my own. Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long, for Orin quickly wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me back, moaning into my mouth as he did so.

That went on for a few moments. Eventually, our lips were coated with each other's saliva and I broke the kiss.

"Lay back on the bed," I said.

Orin did as instructed and softly set himself back down onto his bed, causing the bottom halves of his legs to dangle off the edge of the mattress.

I moved towards his trousers, where his cock created a rather impressive bulge. Carefully, I slid both his trousers and loincloth down, pulling on the front of the waistbands. I then came face to face with Orin's hardness a moment later, which was entirely stiff and stood a good eight inches tall. Impressive.

_ _ Tenderly, I wrapped my fingers around the warm length, feeling it throb with life in my grasp. I then slowly proceeded to move my hand up and down Orin's cock, making certain to not move too fast. I can't have him cum just yet.

_ _ Orin watched me with eager excitement, his lips slightly parted. His ears had fallen back now and he let a moan slip out as my hand slid up to the tip of his length.

"Am I hurting you?" I asked, continuing to stroke the captain.

"No..." he moaned. "You're... It feels really good,"

I smiled, amused by his delight. "It's better when someone else rubs it for you, isn't it?"

After a few drops of pale pre-cum dripped down the side of Orin's shaft, I removed my hand from him and said, "Take off your tunic and get on all fours,"

Without question, Orin did as he was told and I was left staring at his backside, which, to be frank, was slightly plump and inviting.

"Have you ever had anything inside you before?" I asked, kneeling by Orin's legs and placing my muzzle a few inches away from his behind after brushing his tan tail to the side.

"A few fingers," he admitted, quivering as I placed both of my hands on his ass and began to spread the cheeks apart.

"Well," I said, licking my lips, "tonight you're going to have something better than just a few fingers,"

With ease, I lowered my head in between Orin's cheeks and began to lap at his hole.

"I-Is that your tongue?" he gasped.

I didn't respond, refusing to pull my mouth away from Orin's rear. Instead, I continued to trace around the rim of his hole, moistening it with my drool. Every once in a while, I would even dip it inside of Orin, only to retract it back out, teasing him in preparation for the moment when I would slide my cock inside his body.

"Oh..." he began moan. "Oh, fuck,"

That's right, captain. Let your inhibitions go. Enjoy it. Nobody will judge you here.

_ _ After a few more wet licks, I removed my muzzle and hands from the captain's ass. "Roll over,"

Orin obeyed and rolled over to reveal his lengthy cock, which was still hard. I then raised the coyote's legs, setting both of his paws on my shoulders.

I took my right hand off of the captain's leg and began to lick three of my fingers, dampening them with warm saliva. Then, I lowered my hand and slowly slid my silky fingers inside of Orin, causing him to moan softly and close his eyes in euphoria. I soon proceeded to slide my fingers in and out of him, always making it seem as though I were about to pull them completely out, only to slide them back inside of his tight warm body.

When I finally withdrew my fingers, Orin opened his eyes and looked at me with a peculiar mixture of both fear and exhilaration. "Please," he whispered, "be gentle,"

"As you command, captain," I said, grasping my cock with my right hand and easing it inside of Orin's moistened entrance. I then gasped in surprise from how tight he still was, which made my toes curl with gratification.

Orin let out a quiet moan and allowed his head to fall back against the bed as I continued to slide deeper inside of him. "I...feel..."

"Full?" I moaned, assuming that it would have been the most likely answer, as I eased half of my hardness out of Orin and glided it back inside of him.

The coyote seemed to enjoy my re-entrance and let out something that sounded like half of a howl and half of a moan, which bounced off the walls like the sound of a church bell's hourly song.

"Shhhh," I hushed him, as I completely filled him with my cock for the first time that evening. "We don't want anyone to hear us, do we, sir?"

"Please," Orin shivered, grasping at the sheets beneath him and crinkling them as I pulled back for another thrust, "call me by my name,"

"Okay," I said, easing back into the coyote. "Orin,"

He thanked me with another moan and continued to squeeze the sheets beneath him, biting his lips to suppress any more sounds of pleasure from escaping his muzzle.

Surprised at how snug Orin still remained, I continued to thrust in and out of him, picking up speed and proceeding to fuck the coyote wildly in the next couple of moments. He didn't complain and only persisted to bite his lower lip as the sounds of my balls slapping against his ass grew louder.

I closed my eyes, letting myself bathe in the act of sex.

And, out of nowhere, I thought about Gwen. I recalled how stunning she had looked as she stood in front of the barracks, the light of day bouncing off her sword and breasts as though she were a goddess. She had seemed so determined and strong, which only multiplied her beauty by tenfold. But, in my mind's eye, as I recalled the memory, I imagined us standing in front of the barracks alone together. She dropped her sword and walked over to me, our lips clasping together as our hands felt one another's bodies. I then raised her into the air, her legs wrapping around my torso, and entered her weightless body. A surge of joy zapped through me and I was drunk with ecstasy, as if we had always been meant to be together. The pleasure was so overwhelming that, after a few gentle thrusts, I felt an orgasm creeping upon me. I attempted to push it back, hoping that my lovemaking with Gwen could last for eternity. But she wrapped her arms more tightly around me, gazing into my face with those starry blue eyes of hers, and whispered something that forced me into finishing.

Become one with me, Dante.

_ _ My eyes snapped open and I had to bite my tongue in order to prevent myself from screaming with joy as my cum poured out of my body and into Orin, who lay beneath me with his eyes closed and a look of joy painted on his face.

As the last drops of cum squeezed out of me, my body trembled with relief. Even after my orgasm had faded, my legs quivered and my arms seemed to have lost all feeling. Was this what it was like to have sex with someone you enjoy? Granted, I had only fantasized about Gwen, but, still, it had to have been the best orgasm that I ever experienced.

Once I had caught my breath and the post-orgasm haziness faded from my head, I looked down at Orin's cock, which was still hard and hung back to point upwards at his chest.

"I see I've forgotten about you," I said, easing my hand around Orin's cock. "Do you want me to go fast, or slow?"

The coyote's blue eyes, which were nowhere nearly as beautiful as Gwen's, opened and he whispered, "Fast,"

I instantly began to pleasure him, allowing his bare flesh to rub against every hair in the center of my hand. Meanwhile, I stared at him and gave the captain a lusty look, knowing that it would drive him mad with satisfaction.

A second later, Orin threw his head back against the bed and groaned loudly through his teeth as hot cum sprayed over my fingers, sticking them together, and poured onto the captain's chest. Christ, he's almost got half a goblet's worth of cum! I suppose he doesn't do this to himself very often.

_ _ Gently, I released his cock and examined my hand, watching the white liquid trickle down my fingers.

"Thank...you," Orin said, opening his eyes to look up at me.

An idea crept into my mind and I smiled, knowing it would have certainly helped me win Orin's favor.

"Sure," I said. "What are lovers for?"

I then raised my dripping wet fingers to my snout and began to slowly lick every drop of Orin's cum. It wasn't sour, like most cum from men is, but actually sweet. As the last droplets crept over my tongue and were mixed with my saliva as I swallowed them, I assumed that it had something to do with Orin's diet.

The coyote stared at me with awe, his mouth slightly hanging open. "You've really done this before?"

"Many times," I said, placing my hand, which was now covered with saliva, off to the side and lay on top of Orin, since I had finished inside of him and was now stuck. "So, how was your first time? Was it everything you hoped it would be?"

"Much more," he said, proudly.

"Good," I chuckled, "because I'd like to keep doing this with you,"

The captain's ears twitched and his eyes widened with surprise. "Tonight?"

"No," I said, smiling and shaking my head. "Tomorrow night. I have guard duty tomorrow morning, remember? And you can't have someone else fill in for me. People may start to ask questions,"

"Good," he said and smiled. "I... I really like you,"

"I like you, too,"

He released a sigh and stared over my shoulder, gazing upwards at the ceiling above us.

"What's wrong?" I said, fiddling with one of his ears in a teasing manner. "Does the naked man in your bed not interest you?"

"No," he answered, still watching the ceiling. "You do. I just can't stop thinking of what we're going to do,"

"Well," I japed, as I moved my hand away from Orin's ear, "I was thinking more nights of hot sex would do just fine, but I'm open to other suggestions,"

"Not that," he chuckled beneath me, his white muscular belly shaking from the laughter. "Just... How often will we meet? How will we cover up our scents? What if someone catches us? And what if Queen Talis learns about what we're doing? She's not as opened minded about gay people as Queen Santel or King Gannish,"

"Shhhh," I said, kissing his cheek. "You think too much. Just let yourself enjoy this for tonight. We'll figure out the semantics as we go. And forget about Talis. You deserve this,"

Orin sighed and looked into my eyes again. "I'm sorry. My mind never stops thinking. Sometimes it wears me out before I even eat breakfast. But it's what got me promoted to captain, even if it's hard for me to just let time pass by and not be working on something,"

"Better to work too much than be a slothful oaf," I said. "Still, there comes a time when you just need to rest,"

The captain drew silent, mutely gazing up at the ceiling now.

"Well," I said, "if it makes you feel better, I think we should we meet once a day, always after dark. That way, if anyone catches me wandering around, I can say I can't sleep and decided to stretch my legs for a bit,"

"Good idea," Orin admitted, as he continued to stare at the ceiling. "And, if we do that, I can make sure that you don't have too many late night guard duties,"

"See?" I said, reaching my hand down to stroke the fur around his collarbone. "We're already figuring things out. There's no need to worry,"

"But," the coyote said, dread smearing across his face, "what about the smell?"

I thought for a moment and answered, "We can spray some perfume,"

"I'll have to buy some tomorrow,"

"Then it's settled," I said, leaning down to nuzzle the captain's neck.

I felt my hardness twitch and begin to soften, so I slowly withdrew myself from Orin, making the room reek even more of cum.

"Good God," Orin said, wrinkling his nose as I stood up from the bed. "It really does smell terrible,"

"Yes, it does," I said. "Wait. How do you avoid the smell when you masturbate?"

Orin shrugged. "I do it under the water of my tub,"

I looked at the tub behind me and then back at Orin, just before giving him a mischievous smile. "I'll have to join you sometime,"

Orin laughed and his head fell back onto the bed, just before he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.

I stood there for a moment, expecting him to say something, but, after a few moments passed and my cock crept into my body like a dying wild animal that retreats into a place of solitude, he didn't.

"Orin?" I said.

He didn't respond.

Did I fuck him to death? With the fur on my neck bristling with fright, I scampered to the side of the bed and pressed my ear against the captain's hard stomach, only to hear his low heartbeat and slow breathing pattern.

I let out a sigh and stood upright. He was only sleeping. Normally, I would have taken offense to someone falling asleep after I fucked them, but, since the guilt of abusing Orin's pain still lingered inside me, I wasn't.

After fetching Orin's chamber pot from his privy, I set it by the side of Orin's bed, placing metal container on the ground. Then, I dragged the coyote to the side of the bed and allowed his muzzle to hang just a few inches above the chamber pot. I hope he's a still sleeper.

_ _ Deeming that Orin was safe from choking on his own vomit, I walked over to the tub and stepped in, the water's frosty grasp burning my body like a thousand steel knives.

Once I was fully submerged in the tub, I began to rub myself, making sure that the water cleansed every part of my fur.

While scrubbing myself, I constantly glanced over at Orin, who remained unconscious and continued to hang his head off of the bedside.

_ _ When I was finished bathing, I stood and grabbed the towel from the bar to my left. Then, I stepped out of the tub and, as water droplets sprinkled off my body like rainwater, wiped myself dry.

After rehanging the towel, I put on my clothes and armor, which, of course, took twice as long to put on as they did to strip off.

Once I was finally dressed, I walked over to the door and gave Orin one last look, noticing that he still hadn't moved from his spot. He's going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.

_ _ I unlocked the door and left the coyote's chambers.

As silently as a phantom, I eased down to the third floor and along the hallway, until I arrived at the forth door to my right, which led into my room.

Upon opening the door and tossing my armor in a chest that was next to my desk, I hopped under the covers of my bed, hoping that sleep would come soon. After all, I had guard duty the next day. I hope I don't oversleep.

_ _ Fortunately, my dreams contained Gwen and were filled with wonderful sensations that we created together with both of our bodies.