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The loch and the village that had grown up near its edge had always been a source of stories of folklore and fae. The locals had a hundred different stories that surrounded the loch and the creature that supposedly lived there. It was like much of the highlands in that every notable place held its own bit of magic in the making. Most of the stories surrounded a strange horse like creature that haunted the shores and lured those who were touched by sin to the water so that it could drown and devour them. In olden days it lured changlings and mortals who held traces of fae blood, but as time marched on it became those that lacked a faith in God and the Bible. Whatever the case, the stories were fondly recounted over fires and pints when the rains raged and the loch started to flood.

They spoke of times in the past when a strange horse had passed through the town and cast his shadow over doorways as he searched for pray. The creature could come in a hundred different disguises and forms, but always it ended the same. One person would invite him past their door way and at dawn they would be gone. The only hint that he had ever come would be a trail of large hoof prints that left the house and ended at the loch. The prints would be filled with water, no matter that it might be in the midst of a drought.

The villagers mulled over these tales with enjoyment as they added embellishments to their favored stories and invented new ones. There wasn't a family in the village that hadn't been touched by the kelpie and each one of them spoke of it as an evil being. They even boasted an inn that was displayed with a rearing creature that resembled the kelpie and held its own favored stories. Only, one of the stories was strangely different then the monsters legend. Only one of them seemed almost loving and tender in the midst of the blood and fangs that the rest boasted.

Trina owned the Kelpie's Inn, just as his mother had and her grandmother before her. The Clydesdale mare was young to own a business, and even more unusual was female, but decades ago the Inn had been left to her grandmother so it had passed along to her. The village accepted it and her ownership of the Inn, but she stood out as more than just its owner. In a land steeped in myths, magic and history, she became a dreamer and story teller that made up her own bar room tales that had little to do with the wickedness of the fae and everything to do with how she thought they started and how they came to be viewed the way they are.

She had long since stopped giving excuses for her actions; she no longer bothered to hide her joy and telling them where she thought the little people came from or where the banshees had originally learned their scream. Her favorite story of all, though, was that of their local legend, the kelpie. When she inherited the Kelpie's Inn, she had changed the sign from that of a demonic beast of flashing fangs to a rearing sea green horse with wild blue-green eyes. The fangs were still there, but on the whole it seemed almost noble instead of terrifying. But that was how she painted the kelpie's story. And over time, the patrons came to call for her tales in the early evenings, but most especially that of the kelpie.

The evening was overly warm with the summer heat making the work day extend far longer into the evenings then they normally would span. The farmers slept during the heat of the day and rose after the worst heat of the day had passed. It meant that Trina had to keep the Inn open later than normal, but it also meant that business was swift enough that they had been forced to hire on temporary help to keep up with the demand. The newest hire on was an older looking grey stallion who was slow on his feet, but careful when it came to tending the bar and keeping track of the money. The bar-maids were swift enough to make up for his slowness.

"Trina, you can't just let anyone work here." One of the farmer's growled admonishingly at her as she stopped a third time to check on the older stallion. "He's a drifter."

"He needed a job, Hamish, I'm not going to turn him away because he doesn't have roots here." She snapped back and tossed her head up before moving through the crowd to ensure everything was running smoothly.

"Soft hearted." Another one growled disapprovingly. "You're listening too much to your stories, girl."

"A little kindness goes a long way in the world." She didn't allow her temper to show, but her lips curled up in a smile. "But if you'd like me to try being hard hearted, I could cut you off for the evening and send you back to your dear wife."

General laughter erupted around the room, but the mare didn't miss the long look the grey stallion gave her. He hadn't offered his name when he came, instead had seemed almost nervous about asking for a position. She didn't press him. He had seemed almost lost and confused by the largeness of the village and she'd been happy to give him a place to stay until the drought ended. Her position in the town allowed her to go against some of the traditions. Who would want to risk being cut off from the only bar in town, after all? She was the only place one could have a beer that one hadn't made themselves. And the home made beer was likely to make you go blind or sick.

"You're a hard one, Trina." Hamish grinned at her and the goat winked. "Come now, no need to cut anyone off. Why don't you give us a story?"

"First you tell me how to run my bar and now you want a story?" She snorted as she picked up a pitcher and slid it over to the stallion working the bar. "You're worse than foals!"

"Your new help hasn't heard your story, Trina!" The goat glanced at the hire on. "Have you heard about the kelpie?"

"I've only seen the sign." The grey form shrugged, and the voice was slightly rough. "And the stories I have heard here from the rest of you."

"See, Trina? He hasn't heard the Kelpie's Story!" Hamish grinned up at her with an attempt at an innocent smile.

"A bunch of old gossips, all of you." The mare gave a snort, but arched her neck a touch. "I suppose I can give you an old legend if you promise to leave my help alone. And if he'd like to hear it."

The sooty grey stallion looked at her for a long moment and the mare winced a little. His face was too thin, he looked gaunt and tired. She wasn't positive on his age, but he looked old and worn. As if he had seen so much of the world, there wasn't much left for him to see. It was why she'd taken him in when he'd passed through her door. It was why she stuck up for him against her neighbors. Something about him made her heart ache, but she wasn't sure why. She'd seen enough drifters pass through the town in a similar fashion, but had only offered them a bit of food to help them on their way.

"I would love to hear any story you'd wish to share." The grey gave a bit of a smile, his lips still sealed. "It's a good night for a story."

Trina leaned over to pick up a pint of beer to wet her throat before settling down in her normal seat. It was positioned near the bar and with enough room that those who wanted to listen to the well-loved story could ring around her or they could go towards the fire place and ignore it. Most of them chose to listen, but that wasn't surprising. After such a long day they would be wanting to forget the fact they'd be slaving away in the heat and hauling water from the loch to preserve their crops. They'd want to forget the harshness of life, if only for a little while.

"This is an old legend, perhaps older than the village or the loch itself. It's something that was passed down from only a handful of people so it never became well known. Some tried to get it to grow in popular legend, but most never wanted to believe anything good of the fae creatures and preferred to hold dear to the darkness of the world. There is no darkness that cannot be echoed with light and that's true of all creatures, even so strange a creature as a kelpie. All of you know that the kelpie is said to live in our loch and haunt our people. I have heard you speak of how he has taken hundreds of lives over the centuries to slake his unnatural hunger on them, but none remember how the loch formed long long ago...

"Once this place was a rich fertile valley that was ringed around by the highlands so that it was protected from the pain the rest of our country experienced. There were only a handful of houses here and two clans that farmed and herded and lived in peace. It was a lovely place where the sheep grew thick soft wool and the wheat was thick and golden in the fall. The two clans lived in their own little valley, but one house was set apart from both of them and chose to live in a small patch of woodlands that surrounded a small pond.

"At the time, there were many stories about who she was. Some of the villagers thought she was an off shoot cousin that had settled there long ago. Others said she was an old wise woman who made potions and spells if someone had enough gold. The truth of the matter was that she was neither of those things. She was a young doe who had settled in her small house with the aid of a beloved friend. She had escaped the war that raged outside of the valley and had a cabin built by a pool where she would be safe from the evils of the world. She was beloved of the kelpie and he kept her safe from all harm.

"Before the loch and the tales of blood and horror, the kelpie was said to be a creature that could love. When the doe was young, it was said that she could sing down the birds from the trees. One evening she sang beside a creek and the water brought the song to where the kelpie lay dreaming and roused him back to wakefulness. He was besotted by the sound of her song until he rose up from the waters to listen to her voice. It was like the unicorn of old, he placed his head in her lap and asked her to sing for him again and again. And so, when war threatened her he took her to where she would always be safe and where he could listen to her songs.

"The clans that settled there didn't know of the kelpie or the love he had for the doe. As she grew older the rumors continued to spread about how she created spells and how often one could hear her singing to the pond to make her magic. They never saw the stallion with his rippling mane or the way he would become gentle and still to listen to her. They never saw him dancing over the valley with her riding upon his back. They never saw that his dreadful teeth were stilled and his hunger held back by love of her. No matter that she grew grey and old, he loved her still. Love could not save her though.

"One winter a youngster was lost in the snow. It was a bitterly cold night and he wandered into the little woods calling for help. The old doe found him trembling and turning blue, so she gathered him up to take into her home to try and save him. Try as she might, she could not save him. She could not bring him back to life and warmth. The villagers found him in her home the next day when they tracked him and rumor ran like wild fire that she had killed him for her magic. They spoke of others who had died and how she was the source of a curse that fed upon their people.

"They gathered torches and weapons to take the 'witch' and end her reign of terror. They did not care that she wept and told them the truth, they saw only something different, something strange. They killed her that night and hung her from a tree. It was a night of triumph for them all and they celebrated her death, but the celebration did not last for long. For they did not know that their loud off tune songs had roused the creature that rested in the waters and stirred him. It was not the song of his beloved doe, but something rough and violent.

"That night the kelpie pulled himself from his pond to find the doe's house on fire and her form hanging from a tree. The stallion screamed out his heart break and rage as the villagers celebrated. That was the night the horrible stories began as he erupted from the water in rage and grief. His teeth bit deep that night as he hunted down the ones that had killed his beloved doe. He tore through the valley and took them down one by one as the pond reflected his rage. The water bubbled and rose up. The snows melted and flowed towards it so that the does house was engulfed in the flood.

"When dawn came the flooding bond had taken his doe and her home beneath it. It had grown into a great loch that claimed the fertile land for its own and hidden the place of safety beneath its lapping surface. For, if his beloved doe was gone, the kelpie would take all that was hers back to himself again. It was days before they found the bodies of the villagers at the edge of the loch. They say that it was as if the water rejected them and wanted nothing of them to touch its surface. And there the loch formed, from the kelpies broken heart and the cruelty of old myths that ended the doe's life."

~ ~ * ~ ~

The grey stallion cleaned the glass carefully and kept his back braced against the bar as his ears were held up. The tale was well told and Trina's voice naturally fell into the rhythm that drew one into that long ago world. He had come for just this reason. He had come to hear her tell a story that hadn't been heard in so long, but one he knew intimately. He had heard the villagers talk about it as they walked along the retreating loch and become entranced with a mare who worked in the inn he had visited long ago.

The grey stallion lifted his head from tending to his mug to watch the Clydesdale as she spoke and the unfocused look in her eyes. The white blaze that ran along her face and nose stood out against the dark, near black, of her fur. Her body wasn't slender, but she was built as a draft mare ought to be, with curves and subtly muscled beneath the feminine softness. Her eyes, though, always seemed slightly dreamy looking. She seemed lost in her own story as she continued to weave that long ago place and he found himself entranced and slightly bemused. Where had she learned this story? Where had she found out about the village that had once been here and how he had come to this valley?

He had had to cover himself in soot to change the vivid color of his mane into a plain grey and magic helped darken his eyes into a more mild brown. He was no longer in the powerful shape he had always enjoyed, but suffered just as this village did as the drought ate away at his loch and magic. It made him look aged and thinner. He knew all too well that his ribs were visible when he didn't wear a shirt and that he was dropping weight rapidly. Even an immortal being could be affected by the changes of nature. That was why he had stirred from his home and approached the shore. And when he had set his hoof on the road he found stories of himself were once again alive and well, but new ones had come into being. He had followed the tales to the familiar inn.

Pisces always enjoyed stories of himself, but it wasn't often someone told a story that didn't have to do with how he would eat those who came to the edge of his loch. This one, this one was one that made his heart ache in his remembered loss. His doe, his beautiful white doe who had had a voice like silver bells. Her song had kept his hunger at bay and made him content with a small pond and watching her as she toiled in her garden and taught him new songs each evening when he came to the shore. He had never forgotten her, but the details of her life had been loss in the passing of the centuries.

The grey stallion lifted his head from tending to his mug to watch the Clydesdale as she spoke and the unfocused look in her eyes. The white blaze that ran along her face and nose stood out against the dark, near black, of her fur. She seemed lost in her own story as she continued to weave that long ago place and he found himself entranced and slightly bemused. Where had she learned this story? Where had she found out about the village that had once been here and how he had come to this valley?

"That was well told, my lady." He murmured when she came to the end of the tale. He kept the emotions from his voice as he automatically continued to polish the glass.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, Grey. It's an old story, but one I thought we should tell around here because it gets so tiresome hearing about the beast sucking people down into the lake!" Trina's smile spread wider and the stallion laughed softly to himself.

"But, which is more truthful? The creature that eats those who come to his lake or the story of the doe?" He set the glass aside before picking up another. "You might want to spread the precautionary tales."

"I think that if there is a kelpie there, he wouldn't be as horrible as he's painted to be. I think the one I speak of is more truthful." She nodded her head before going back to her rounds and left the stallion watching her.

His eyes followed the swaying of her hips before lowering his eyes to return to polishing the cup before setting it aside to join its fellows. She was ripe with life, humor and dreams. The wealth of emotions and dreams made her the ideal of what he searched for. The drought had taken so much from him, he needed to replenish it and that meant he needed to hunt once more. In the hunting, he would need to find prey that would do more then fill his belly, but would give him back what magic he had lost. It was only once he had that magic that he'd be able to return the water to his loch and truly live again. Yet, the very thing that drew his eyes was the very thing he admired.

He watched her with growing sorrow before he picked up another glass. She reminded him of his lovely white doe who sang so beautifully. She was an earthier version of his singer. There was something special about her that teased his mind and reminded him of other times. It had been a long time since someone had spoken of his name with things other than fear. He enjoyed the stories that painted him as an insatiable monster that fed upon the unwary, but hearing her praise him so sweetly held its own magic. He had to feed and that meant he would take a prize. The best of the best. It was who and what he was.

~ ~ * ~ ~

Trina closed the doors of the Kelpie's Inn and leaned back against them with a sigh. It was so late that she was surprised she couldn't see the edge of dawn creeping up on the horizon. Each night they had closed later and later. Each night she found herself seeking her bed when the dawn started to lighten her bed room. But it was worth it for the coin she was bringing in. The farmers were struggling to make ends meet, but they still had the coin to spend on relaxation and their ale. The mare moved her hand down to cup the pouch of coin that she'd managed to gain from her late night at the Inn. What they lacked in people staying in the Inn, she made up for with busy nights thankfully.

"Grey, you can go sleep in the room upstairs on the right if you like." She murmured to the tired looking stallion who was putting the stools up on the bar. "We don't have anyone staying here, and you look like you could use a good night's sleep."

The stallion lifted his ears and gave her a surprised look. "Ma'am, it would be very generous of you..." He paused and she suppressed a smile at the perceived reason.

"I won't be charging you for it. Why have you sleeping in that little stable out back and that room and most of the rest are empty. Go on now! Go get some sleep before you fall over!" She made a shooing motion and the stallion continued to look at her in bemusement before turning towards the stairs.

Grey was a hard worker so far, it would be a shame when he left, but he might be persuaded to stay for a while longer. He certainly looked as if he could do with a few meals as well as some place warm to sleep for a season or two. He seemed to move slower as he trudged up the stairs, but at least she knew he'd be able to rest the day through. The other three bar maids had already skipped out of the bar and to the room they shared which probably left the poor fellow most of the chores to do. She'd deal with them later, for now she just wanted to relax a bit before she had to retire to bed as well.

The fire had burned down to embers, which she carefully extinguished. It was too hot during the day to want to keep it banked for later. Once it was out she picked up a glass of ale and moved out to the back of the inn and the small porch she had had built out there. It overlooked the loch and the rise of some of the larger rocky hills. It was her favorite place to end the day when the sun was going to come out and she could see the water playing over the loch and all the world seemed peaceful. She often spent sunsets here as well when she wanted to have some time to think or wake up in peace. As she stepped out of the back door she didn't find the peace that she intended to seek out.

"A mare like you shouldn't be keeping a place like this all by your lonesome." A voice brayed out hoarsely just as she closed the door. Her fingers tightened against the handle of the door at the surge of annoyance.

"I'm doing quite well, Rhys. As I've told you several times." She answered in a clipped voice and turned to see the large dusty brown mule occupying one of the seats and obviously at ease. "What are you doing here?"

"Watching over the place. Like I said, mare like you can't be running a rough and tumble place like this. I think you need to review my offer again." Connor looked up at her indolently and seemed to ignore the fact she balled her fists up in barely suppressed anger.

The jack had been a thorn in her side for so long that she was ready to bar him entirely from the Inn. His lewd approached, rough jokes and less then subtle hints that she should let him run the Inn as her husband had gotten beyond old. Connor was well connected for the most part; he worked nearly every farm in the village and had become a valuable member to them. They rarely saw his attempts as half serious threats and near force; they only viewed it as his normal genial way. She would have banned him years ago if it wouldn't have caused a lot of issues with the area farmers. But letting him stay meant occasional unpleasant scenes.

"The answer is the same as always. I am able to take care of my inn myself." She rested her back against the door and glared at him. Trina wasn't going to let him drive her away from her favorite spot.

"Really?" The jack pushed himself to his hooves and pinned back his long ears. "Seems to me that you can't. I saw that sad stallion you let work behind your bar. What'd he do? Give you a good fuck for the position?"

Trina's ears pinned flat to her head in outrage. "Only you would think something so crude, Connor. He needed a place to work and a bit of food. It's no secret."

She didn't get to get out much else. The mule moved with a speed that she could barely countenance as he lunged forward and slammed an arm up against the upper portion of her chest and forced her back against the door. His blunt teeth were bared as he forced his weight against her, "Slut! Liar too." The breath was sharp with the scent of beer. "I saw him going upstairs. Is he going to warm your bed until you come in to ride him, pretty Trina? Is that what it takes to control you, a good.." The hips shoved up against her own roughly, "..hard ride?"

The glazed look in the mules eyes terrified her, the scent of thick alcohol and the press of his body against hers, keeping her pinned to the door made her shove her hands up against his stomach. Her entire body shoved back against him trying to escape as he darted in to bite her neck roughly with his flat blunt teeth. She couldn't escape!

~ ~ * ~ ~

Pisces settled down on the edge of the clean covers and spread a hand over the mattress. His eyes closed slightly in a sensory memory of the stallion he had seduced up here and what they had done. He had fed well that night and he still fondly recalled them. They would remain alive forever in his memories. His tongue flicked out to lick along one fang as his stomach tightened in sharp reminder that he had not had anything to eat in such a fashion in far far too long. He had nearly drawn Trina in against him while he had closed up the bar. The sight of her curved form in the dim fire light had stirred hunger and lust together. The only thing that had saved her was the offer of a room to sleep in. A gesture of kindness that confused and made him pause briefly.

He leaned back against the covers and drew in a long breath. He would have her. She drew him to her as surely as if she had hooked him on a line. He could no more turn away then a lion could turn away from the flash of an antelope. It was who and what he was; he could not apologize for it, nor turn away from it. It was only how he would do it and when. He had been alive long enough to learn how to play games and draw out the stalk and inevitable conclusion, but not with her. He didn't think he could restrain himself past that first brush of her flesh against his own. He didn't think he could hold back the desire to taste her sweet flesh and essence of her life. Though, that was not without its own sorrow when his chosen prey was admirable.

His musing were disturbed by the abrasive sound of a braying donkey or mule. He frowned slightly as it came again, but it was followed with a softer noise. A noise that had nothing to do with a mule. He flicked his ears up to hear a soft feminine whimper before a voice burst out of the darkness from behind the inn.

"Get off of me!" Trina's voice didn't tremble with fear, but snapped out and was answered with a rough braying laugh that mocked her response.

"If this was all it took, you should have just told me, mare." The words were slurred with drink and roughened before he heard a dull thud.

The disguised kelpie slipped out of the bed and padded soundlessly towards the window. His dark grey nostrils flared to taste the scent of mule and drink on the air. It made him wrinkle his lips back in distaste as he carefully slid the shutters open. The twilight of dawn was starting to lighten the world, but it was just dark enough for him to have to concentrate to make out the two dark shapes beneath the window. One was shoved down against the ground, but the other, larger, shape was looming over it. The large ears proclaimed that it was the voice he'd heard as the mule kept Trina pinned down beneath him while she brought a leg up to kick him.

Whatever words the mare spoke in return to the aggressive mule were lost to Pisces' ears as he felt a flush of rage. His lips curled back to show his sharp curved fangs and the brown eyes leaked away into sea green as he leaned over the window. The muscles along his shoulders tensed up. How dare this mule touch Trina? How dare he stalk prey that was rightfully is and how dare he sully the mare?

The grey shape moved to step to the ledge and crouched on the window with a low rumble in his throat. His eyes glowed in the moonlight as he shifted his weight and gave a push to make the leap towards the tree that loomed to one side of the building. The sounds of fear and fighting beneath him increased as he hit the branch and started his stalk. Gone was the slumped shoulders and careful movements of a stallion on hard times. He moved like the predator he was, and his eyes were locked the large drunken mule as his prey.

~ ~ * ~ ~

Trina shoved her hands harder against the mule's chest in an effort to get herself out from under him. He wasn't larger then her by much, but he used every pound of his extra weight to keep her pinned down as he drunkenly slurred that he would make sure she took him. She didn't waste her time screaming or calling for help, there was no one awake that would be able to drag him off. And any farmer that did find Connor behaving this way would likely turn his head for fear of losing the extra help in the harvest. She kicked and twisted wildly beneath his weight as he tried to shove his muzzle up against her own.

"C'mon, are you so afraid of admitting you need me around?" He brayed out and one of his large hands moved to grip her hip and pull her up against his rough pants. "Tough little Trina, runnin' an inn without any help."

"Get the hell off me." She snapped out and gave a shove against his shoulders, the movement wasn't as hard as it should have been if she'd been standing, but she managed some force.

At best she hoped to get his muzzle away from hers long enough to figure out how to get out from under him. When she shoved, the impossible seemed to happen. His shoulders jerked up just a few inches, which was what she expected, but then yanked backwards as if she had shoved him again, but with all of her weight. His ears were back and he brayed out as he was pulled back and upwards. Something thick and green-grey twisted itself around his neck and stomach as he was hauled into the air leaving the mare alone on the hard ground. Trina stared up with her mouth gaping as the mule kicked and twisted against the ropes wrapped around him and moved his hands up to wrap around them.

"Let go of me, ya damned bastard." He brayed out and one of the powerful legs aimed a kick backwards at his assailant.

There was no response, but the tendrils tightened and another worked itself around his muzzle and twisted itself several times about before clamping down. The mule's brays softened and muffled as his form was pulled backwards. Trina struggled to her hooves and drew in a breath as she took a few scrambling steps backwards. The twisting ropes seemed to appear from everywhere as they coiled around the mule's legs and arms both. It was unearthly and strange, as if the tree itself had reached down to prevent him from touching her. Connor twisted and kicked against the bonds with muted brays and his body writhed as it was lifted upwards.

Trina groped for the door behind her as she stared in mingled horror and confusion at the scene in front of her. She gripped the handle and turned around before she heard the rough braying end with a muffled groan. She didn't look back to see what was happening, she grabbed the door and yanked it open before darting inside. The soft noises from behind her didn't stop as she slammed the door shut and put the bar in place. Her entire body shuddering from a mixture of Connor's assault and the sight of what appeared to be the tree stirring to life to yank the mule off her.

~ ~ * ~ ~

Pisces twisted his tendrils around the mule as the creature brayed out roughly in his hold. The struggles came in bursts that arched and pushed against the tendrils from his tail and mane that held him off the ground entirely. The kelpie's chest and stomach were securely gripping the tree's broad limb as he kept an eye on the fleeing mare. He made no attempt to reveal himself as her savior, but let her run to the safety of the Inn while he held the mule at bay. The strange protective emotion surged in his chest as he realized she was safe and moved his eyes down to see what he trapped. The drunken mule was obviously confused and enraged by his situation as the stallion slipped from the tree.

His mane and tail moved independently. The long hairs curled like tendrils of sea grass beneath the water, but with far more control and power. He twined the tendrils of his tail upwards along the curve of the upper thighs and moved one of his hands to hook around the waist as the mule's hooves touched the ground again. His fingers clawed over the clothed stomach as he moved his body to press along the lacks. The scent of alcohol was drifting away into the sharper scent of fear as the long ears remained pinned back.

"So you would rape a mare who is unable to defend herself?" The kelpie murmured into one ear, "How wicked of you, mule."

He loosened the tendrils on the muzzle just a touch. "Who the hell are you?!"

"I'm something that's attracted by wicked evil deeds." Pisces gave a firm nip against the arched neck as his clawing fingers tugged at the clothing and started to peel it open to reveal the smooth furred belly. "And you had such evil deeds in mind, that I simply had to come to you."

"Let me go!" The mule brayed out and lunged forward, but the kelpie's arm yanked him back. The tendrils locked in place as he forced his prey to turn around. "I did nothing wrong, she seduced me!"

"Oh no. I was going to eat the mare, because I am so very very hungry. But she is something that should be preserved and cherished." He showed his fangs in a wide smile. "You, my fine mule, are something that should be swallowed down still kicking. Did they not ever tell you? The kelpie only comes for those that do wicked deeds? They always taste best of all."

The mule's eyes showed a rim of white before he brayed out in terror at the sight of the fangs glistening in the lightening day. Pisces flared his nostrils open wide to suck in the sweet scent of his fear as Connor started to tremble. The hunger he had held in check flared into something demanding. He worked his tendrils firmly around the muzzle to cut off his speech. His fingers clawed down the hips to hook against the pants and started to peel them downwards. How perfect to do to this mule what he would do to the dreamy eyed mare who had shown him such kindness? How perfect that he replace what he was going to do to her?

~ ~ * ~ ~

Connor's mind blanked with terror as he realized that the kelpie was real. The glowing blue-green eyes seemed to bore right into his own as he felt the strange tendrils twining around his muzzle so he couldn't spread it. The haze of his drunken state was pushed away with adrenaline that started to run through his body. He was terrified, but he couldn't get free. When he tried to jerk back the tendrils bit harder against them and the hands on his pants gave a yank. The mule's eyes bulged a little as he felt them tearing open at the seams while the monster let out a low rumbling laugh. His earlier arousal had subsided, but it still left his mottled girth hanging from his sheath partially.

"Ahhh, I see you approve of the punishment fitting the crime, mule." The kelpie murmured and the mule shuddered as he felt a finger brush right around his tip.

He tried to twist away, but the fingers gripped his pants and gave a yank. The tearing seams gave way more until the cloth came away in strips along hi upper legs. His head was forced forward by the clutching tendrils. His heart pounded against his chest as the fingers clawed right around his ass cheeks and ran along the edge of his hips. The glowing eyes seemed to consume him while he drew in a breath and gave a higher pitched muffled bray as the fingers ensured that not even a scrap of clothe covered the darkness of his ass. His ropey tail lashed back and forth roughly back and forth was he tried to escape. His hide showed a gleam of sweat to it as one of the tendrils twined itself around the curve of his calf and forced him to lift the leg up higher. Soon the tugging movements forced it to curl around the kelpie's form as the grey form pressed in close against him.

His ears twitched against his head. He could feel the sheath rubbing up against his half exposed cock, and what's more he felt movement as the glans slipped free and started to spill outwards. The clawing nails ran along his back as he was bound up tight against the grinning kelpie. The points of his fangs were visible beneath the soft grey lips and made his heart start to pound faster. Inch by inch he felt the kelpies cock start to slip outwards to rub up against his stomach. The touch was almost distracting enough for him to miss the feel of a tendril twisting around the base of his ropey tail and pulling it upwards. The sudden yank made him bray out as his ass was exposed to the teasing fingers.

Connor didn't have time to do more then let out a muffled sound of protest when the tendrils around his leg tightened to make sure it was curved behind the creature's ass. A hot slippery tongue flicked out over the curve of his muzzle and danced just beneath the curve of his chin. It made him jerk his head back and arch slightly, which seemed to be what the kelpie wanted him to do. The stiff shaft slid along the curve of his belly and half hardened shaft before rubbing just along the swell of his balls. He brayed out his protest, but it didn't stop the creature as it dipped down and pushed up until the tip snugged right up against his anal ring.

He flinched in reaction to the touch, but he was trapped under the dual touches of the tendrils and warms wrapped round him. The nails clawed down his back as he felt the damp precum being smeared over his pucker before the hips rocked up. His braying grew in volume as the blunt glans pushed up harder and harder against his opening. He stopped trying to dodge the flick of the tongue and the brush of the lips along his muzzle as the tight ring was forced to spread open. The walls spread wider and wider before the hips gave a short push and the tip pressed inside of him with a slick spill of precum. His entire body jerked in reaction and clenched down tightly around the glans.

~ ~ * ~ ~

Pisces muffled a groan of pleasure as his grey shaft pushed into that snug passage. His nostrils flared wide before moving to lip along the bridge of the braying mules muzzle. The trembling body struggled and jerked against him as he claimed passage one slow inch at a time. He could feel the walls clutching and squeezing in reaction as he pressed deeper and moved his hands down to cup the curved ass. His fingers dug into the softness found there while he felt the softened mottled girth shifting against his stomach. He could smell the terror on his prey, but that only made him all the more eager to fill his achingly empty stomach. He pulled the hips down harder against his own as his medial ring started to slip up and press against the opening.

The mule was not quiet, even with the bonds of his mane wrapping around the muzzle and forcing him to muffle the sounds. The brays came out almost constantly as he forced the walls the mold around him. The virginal muscles clutched and spasmed through each bit of flesh that drove upwards as the precum drooled out of his tip and splashed out into the passage. His fingers dug in against the curved ass while he started to lick and curl his tongue just beneath the bound jaw. He saw the fear glazed eyes as his soft lips playfully slipped higher up over the muzzle and his fangs hooked along the soft velvety nose. The eyes were entirely rimmed with white as he edged his way higher and spread his jaws to hold the nose between them and rumbled.

He drew his hips back in a sharp movement just as his medial ring was about to drive forward and pulled until his glans nearly slipped free before smoothly sliding upwards again. The walls clamped down almost painfully tight as he drove himself upwards until the medial ring slipped inside with a popping noise. He could feel his glans teasing right over that spot time and again just to hear the mule whimper and writhe. The mottled shaft soon thickened up against his belly so he could use a tendril from his tail to wrap around it. He teased and massaged lightly around it, distracting the mule, as he pushed his muzzle up higher and slid his fangs right along the bridge of the muzzle. He savored the fear and trembling body against his own.

His slick tongue flickered just beneath the chin as he stretched upwards and crept higher along the muzzle. He could feel the body trembling against him as he worked his hips back and forth, his shaft sawing in and out of the tight ass. Each tremble made the walls quiver deliciously about him while his tongue coiled its way along the curve of the jaws. His tendrils started to spill away from the muzzle as he swallowed and pulled a little more down along his long muzzle. The frightening squealing bray that erupted from his prey to vibrate his mouth, but he only clenched down harder as he bucked his hips upwards. His tip plunged in deep as he pulled the maw deeper into his stretching jaws and starting towards his throat.

~ ~ * ~ ~

Connor shuddered and twisted in the hold of the kelpie. His body was being violated completely from both ends. He could feel the slippery heat of the muzzle sneaking up higher and higher along his muzzle and trailing just beneath the curve of his jaw. His breath came out in short bursts as the pressure grew around his muzzle. All of it was being distracted by the grey hips that were hitting against his own and the shaft that was driving deeper inside of him. The strokes backwards tugged right over the rise of his prostate so that his entire form shuddered in unwilling pleasure before he was forced through it again. Each thrust pushed in deeper, just as the lips kept pushing up along his muzzle and the slippery tongue trailed under his jaw.

He brayed out into the muzzle in his panic, his entire body shuddering as it was caught between pleasure and panic. He could feel tendrils twisting around the tip of his shaft and stroking over it with a delicate touch that made it horrifying when he bucked forward into the touch. The last thing he wanted was this, but the kelpie seemed to not care for his desires as the lips pushed higher up. The slippery heat ran up along the upper portion of his muzzle until he could see the lips right near his eyes. He squealed out and tried to jerk his head back, but one of the hands gripped the back of his neck and the short mane. He couldn't struggle back against it as the muzzle pushed up higher and his nose was wedged downwards into the tight confines of the throat.

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as the lips pushed up past his eyes and squeezed lightly around his head. The slickened maw rubbed his fur down flat as he pinned his ears down more firmly against his head. The heat squeezed around him as he felt the tongue coiling just under his jaw to flick against his neck. The hand on the back of his neck forced him forward as he felt his muzzle being squeezed by the throats contractions with each swallow. The intimate embrace did nothing to calm his panic, the darkness wrapped so completely around him and soon robbed him of hearing as the lips pushed up and past his ears. His senses were tuned entirely to that of touch, and the touch he got was the steady hammering of the kelpie's hips against his own.

His body was forced to spread over and over again around the cock that jabbed in deep and then pulled out to tease him mercilessly. He brayed out into the throat roughly as the thrusts came faster and harder. Each push upwards was another bit of his neck being enveloped by the gripping suckling maw. His ears were plastered against his head as his entire muzzle was soon stretching the throat and his neck began to enter the hungry beast. He bucked and twisted helplessly to try and free himself, but it only earned him another few inches down to convulsing throat. And through it all his cock pulsed and rubbed along his stomach. His precum drooling out against the tendrils that kept him on edge.

~ ~ * ~ ~

Pisces closed his eyes as his jaws and throat stretched to encompass his prey. His jaws ached slightly to hold the weight of the neck as he pushed towards the shoulders. His nostrils flared hotly as his breathing started to pick up the pace. The head could be felt slipping oh so slowly down his throat and forcing it's outline to show along the smooth dark skin. He could feel the donkey braying and struggling in vein, but it was too late. It was like a rabbit realizing it should bolt when it was already down the fox's throat. Those desperate attempts to escape only made his hunger and need grow as he raked his nails down along the lower back and swallowed the entire head down into the expanse of his throat.

The jack squeezed oh so tightly around his cock as he plunged up and then pulled back again. His balls bumped up lightly against the upturned ass as he teased the helpless creature. His tendril twisted and stroked along the erect mottled shaft. They were more deft then any fingers and able to pull around it. The more of his tendrils that pulled free from the upper body, the more could work around the cock tip. The long hairs flickered around the tip and even coiled just under and around the balls. He massaged around them until he could feel the passage clutching and contracting around him.

He pushed his lips lower and his jaw spread wide as the shoulders and chest began to disappear into his mouth. His throat rippled and squeezed through each swallow that was coaxed along by his tongue. The head pulling downwards deeper and deeper until there was no turning back. The mule began to kick and struggle in panic. The legs jerked against the bindings while Pisces moved his hands down to clutch against the tensed ass. His hips hammered faster and faster as he used the power of his hips to coax more of the head into his maw and throat. His glowing green eyes slid down to slits as his tongue rubbed over the curve of the nipples before they too disappeared. His pleasure building itself to a peak.

The tendrils working around the cock tip twisted and rolled around it as he bucked up with a firm clapping of his orbs right against the upturned ass. His glans started to swell open as he let his peak crash over him with a muffled growl of pleasure. His throat worked and pulled harder around the shoulders and began to slip down towards the belly. His tongue flicked out to catch right against the very tip of the hardened mottle cock. He could feel the trapped jack shudder and kick his legs out desperately in a bid for freedom.

~ ~ * ~ ~

Darkness, heat and pressure were all that the jack knew. Connor's body was wrapped around in the heat of the throat that pulled him still deeper. All hint of sound was gone, save that of the vibrating kelpie's throat. All that was left with the far more sharp thrusts of the hips that plunged in and out of his passage. He clutched around the cock and hunched his hips to thrust into the feeling of tendrils around his cock. He couldn't control it. In the fear of what was happening, he was willing to contemplate anything but what was going on. The lips pulled further down along his shoulders as the balls hit up along his ass and he could feel the glans flaring inside of him. It stretched him just that much wider as he struggled to hold the grey shaft that claimed him. His breathing came in short hard bursts while he kicked his legs out desperately.

He let out a bray that would never be heard as his balls drew up tight the moment the tongue swirled over his sensitive cock tip. He couldn't stop himself as a hot jet of seed erupted out of him, followed by another and then another. The hot spurts splattered right up against the kelpie's chest and muzzle as his hips hunched forward and his walls contracted around the cock that was plunged into his ass. The moment of heady dizziness only grew as he kicked his legs out. Something hot and slippery began to empty itself into his rump. He could feel the ropes of it splattering in deep as the cock pulsed and throbbed inside of him. He squeezed and worked around it as another swallow pulled him in deeper. He could feel the jaws scraping against his lower back and edging towards his stomach.

Panic rushed through him, past the rush of orgasm, past the feel of the cock emptying itself inside of him. He mule kicked the air desperately and tried to escape as the dreadful pull and pressure of the throat swallowed again. The darkness and lack of air took their toll as he struggled desperately for life. Too late to save himself. Too late to hope for someone to find and stop the beast. Too late to regret and make amends for his sins. He brayed out a last desperate sound with his last breath as the darkness rolled over him. Darkness heralded by the pounding of the kelpies heart beat and the feel of the swollen glans wetly popping out from his anal ring. His amends to the mare made in his very life.

~ ~ * ~ ~

The light of dawn touched the Kelpie's Inn as the grey stallion showed patches of dapples beneath the soot he had worked into his hide. The green eyes were just as brilliant in the sunlight as they were in the darkness as he felt full and whole again. The lines of his face were less pronounced, and, though the meal wasn't as rich as it would have been had he given into his desire for the mare, he felt better then he had in months. He no longer look half starved and aged, instead his body had filled out into that of a stallion in his prime. Every last bit of the mule digested to make use of the would be rapist and Pisces sighed out in satisfaction. With his feeding he would be able to restore some order, with his meal he might offer enough water to fill his loch again to health.

The mane now stood a gleaming spill of sea-grin and curled along the line of his neck and back as he turned towards the inn. With a careful run of one of his tendrils he loosened the barring of the door and was able to open it slowly. The main room was quiet and still, save for the soft sound of breathing coming from near the bar. He flicked his ears up and moved as soundlessly as a cat through the room to see the huddled form of Trina pressed with her back against the bar and an old musket clutched in her arms still. Her face was slack with sleep, but her hold on that weapon was still firm despite the fact she had given into her weariness.

The kelpie quirked his lips up in a curiously tender smile for a monster. He carefully leaned down over the bar and brushed his lips along the smoothness of her forehead in a feather light kiss. His hand dropped to cup the smoothness of her cheek as he did so. Her scent was fresh and clean. It filled his muzzle and made him think of another mare here in the bar. Another time he had passed here, but had not left the object of his desire behind. The touch lingered for only a moment before he regretfully slipped away as soundlessly as he came. She was alive and she would live to tell her stories of him still, she was well and safe. His beautiful storyteller.

He exited his Inn and water rippled over his body before his fore hooves hit the ground. His tail held high in a banner the kelpie tore through the village and towards his loch. The clouds above him starting to darken and spread over the sun. The first hint of the rains that would swell his home once more.

~ ~ * ~ ~

The village by the loch awoke to find themselves in the midst of a new legend. They awoke to find a hoof prints filled with water and bits of water weed running through the main street of the city on their way to the loch. They followed them to the Kelpie's Inn and through the main bar room where Trina was just awaking. They followed them out to the back of the inn where they found the shredded clothes and belongings of the work mule who served on so many farms. There wasn't a wisp of fur or mane to be found of him aside from his torn clothing. No one needed to say what they all knew; he had been taken by the kelpie of the loch.

That evening they told tales of how the kelpie had passed among them and hunted ruthlessly to slake his unearthly hunger. The men of the village spoke loudly of how he had been slavering and snarling for blood as he passed through each and every village. They spoke of how he would return again to hunt among them when he hungered and how no man was safe if he was not pure of heart and soul. They talked until they were drunk and then left to burn away the hoof prints that had been left behind on their road. They spoke of fear and terror. They spoke of superstition and evil. All save one. One among them spoke nothing of darkness or evil. One among them made no move to help burn away the mark of his passing.

One among them passed fearlessly through the darkness that night, and many nights after. She left her Inn in the wee hours of morning, just before dawn, and would sit at the edge of the lake. There she would raise her sweet voice to tell tales that she made up or had heard of the kelpie that hid there. She told stories as she had told them in her bar, but now she told them only to the silver rippling surface of the lake. The villagers whispered and murmured after this habit, but it never stopped her from her visits to the lake side.

And always she wore around her wrist a bracelet of small flowering water lily's around her wrist. Some said that she went to the lake at night to gather the fresh lily's to braid into a new bracelet when the old died. Others said that it was the same flowering bracelet that never died, never withered. Only Trina knew that she had found it twined in her damp mane the morning she woke up. A gift from the one who had saved her. A gift from the kelpie of the loch.