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I'm writing this entry as a goodbye to Krelholm, which has offered me both the worst and the best one could expect from life. I am once again going to wander the long, lonely roads of the kingdoms, lost in expanses of forest and the twisting nooks of my ever busy mind. But this time my travels have a set goal, and the pathways in front of me do not seem as perilous as they did in my past.

Sunday, 21th March 830 / Krelholm, Kingdom of Ferlow

After a truly hectic Saturday, I allowed my aching vixen body to refresh and relax. It was already noon when I woke up; a soft breeze rustled my fur and the fading smell of incense filled my nostrils. I'm truly thankful I won't have to whiff that smell ever again. As was the tradition of the brothel, whenever I took a nap someone washed my exposed body clean of taint and groomed my fur.

The leather jacket was neatly folded on a night table, along with the snow-white blouse and metal tip boots, all the cuts nicely sewn. Throwing just the jacket on me - keeping myself provocatively exposed - I flopped on the bed with my bloated, gold-filled pouch. I counted the coins and the amount made me sigh in joy; there was enough gold to sustain my travels for at least half a year. I only needed one of those magic-imbued purses that could hold excessive amounts of gold. Even if those things were rather high in price.

Truly looking forward to hearing what Mana had to say of my exploits, I traversed the stairs and announced my presence. I clutched the broken bow in my claws; I had given the weapon a goodbye and I thought the 'sucker for warrior maidens', as he called himself, would appreciate it. He smiled wide and invited me in, seating me in a chair.

"I was a bit worried when you went to bed so hastily yesterday. When I realised that all the blood wasn't yours, I was truly relieved." Mana said. Still smiling ear to ear, he lifted the six medallions from his pocket. I had trouble hiding the prideful smirk on my face; I sure felt good about myself.

"Ah, so you usurped me while I was defenceless and asleep? Nothing new then," I teased playfully; the bull chuckled and laid the medallions on the table.

His nostrils widened, eyes sparkling like a midnight lake, and he spoke affectionately, "I am really glad you made it! Sorry for sending you out there alone, but it was the only way to make sure." He seemed, from the look on his face, about to burst out with paternal pride. "You'll have to excuse me, it's just everyone that gave their word to tackle the job left me in the cold. So how did you do it? I'd like to hear the whole story!"

My muzzle and lips prickled uncomfortably at the prospect of talking so much; I slipped my diary out of a pocket. I told myself it wasn't a good idea, but it was too late when I opened it up and found the entry.

He changed seats, dragging a chair right next to me. "You keep a diary? That's the last thing I'd expect from you."

"What, sluts are not allowed to have diaries?" I responded coldly. I'd grown to be quite protective of the small, leather covered journal. It was, after all, slowly filling up with my deepest thoughts. And quite a lot of vulnerabilities too.

I rested my claw on the page describing the act, and instructed, "Read only what I allow. Your stare skips ahead, you'll have a mad vixen on your back. Clear?"

Jeff giggled like one of his whores. He gazed deeply in my eyes and squeezed my paw. "I give you my promise Marcella, I won't read anything without your permission. Good to go?"

I nodded, and the bull started reading. He was eating every word, chuckling at parts and frowning during others. The ordeal didn't go by without some questions, which I was happy to answer.

"Wow, you even know battle spells? I wish I had seen that myself. Anyway, you have that note you mentioned there? If what's written there is true, that would explain quite a few things," Jeff said; his worried expression confirmed my earlier suspicions. It all pointed at a dangerous power game.

I fished it out of my pocket, unfolded it and the message loomed forebodingly at me - just as it did the first time. Mana inspected it up close, snorting several times. "Not good at all. I'll have to get this number sequence deciphered, but this message alone is bad news. Someone is truly impatient to start a conflict. How much gold you found there?"

"You hadn't counted it yourself? Over five thousand." I overlooked the fact he knew about the spoils. In a place where someone kept cleaning me under my tail I didn't really expect much in the way of privacy.

A worried expression played on his bull lips. "Just as I thought. That is really not much, given how long they were at it and how good they were too. That sleazy guard captain must have been improving his salary all these years. Don't worry your pretty head with it, that's for me to sort out. You still interested in that job?"

Strangely, I felt torn about the big mercenary job I had so sought. I wanted to travel back through the valley, for reasons obvious to me only. Even if the desire was strong, I refused to listen to my feelings. "And why do you think I'm here? I'm tired of being a glorified delivery bitch."

The bull groaned, perhaps at my sharp reply, perhaps at what he was about to say. He hunched a bit. "Well, you will be delivering something, in a way." I gave him an aggravated look, hoping he was just joking. He continued, "Remember how I told you I needed someone who is not just a mere brute? You see, this backstage war cannot be won without allies, and that's exactly where your tail comes in. I need Duke Merengard on our side and you are the best vixen for the job."

"Why don't you appoint one of your courtesans then?" I had expected a mercenary job; whoring was my daily bread. I did not risk my life in a damp cave just to get another client.

"It is not that easy Marcella. I need my girls here and besides, none of them can fight. You'd be amazed how many mercenaries refuse a job escorting a whore across the kingdom and I cannot leave this place unattended. It would fall apart in my absence," he said, calm and focused.

I raised my eyebrows, deciding not to accept unless he would agree to my terms. "I want something special in return. Bosnar on a silver platter, alive and breathing. I also need one of those magic purses. A resourceful bull like yourself can deliver, right?"

He rolled the idea in his head, then pointed his grey eyes at me. His stare was cold and rough, not something I had seen in his expression before. "I have one of those purses here, I'll bring it to you as a payment for killing the bandits"

"And Bosnar?"

"Yes, that can be too. If you manage to charm the Duke, I'll have Bosnar delivered to you. And, you can still get the bonuses if you do the job cleanly. Who else would give you such a nice deal?" Mana chuckled lightly.

I was getting sore; my tail was at a very unpleasant angle and the chair started to feel restrictive. "Like such a job can be done cleanly. Okay, I'd like to hear the details but please, be swift." Mana loved to talk; even if his voice was nice to listen to, he could jabber till one's ears start to bleed.

"You know what I meant. Swift, you said? You won't understand a word but I'll try. First, you will travel on foot to the border with Cyrilia and sneak in through the woods. I'll show you a safe path on the map."

"That's quite the distance. Why sneak trough the border? The law is pretty friendly there." Cyrilia is a truly beautiful kingdom, one of the few that accepts morphs as equal. I haven't been there during spring yet; its vast birch tree forests must be a sight to behold during the season.

He scratched his brow, exhaling noisily. "And she wanted it swift. The border patrols have gotten very paranoid lately. Ever since the living conditions got so bad here, a lot of morphs tried to leave, of course turning to Cyrilia. After a while they closed the gates; you're not getting in the legal way. The permits are impossible to fake."

"Go on," I urged him.

"Once at the closest village, catch a chariot heading to Cyrila. Upon arrival find Hilltows street, house number 5. An old, furrowed mage by the name of Villion lives there. He will set you up with a ball dress and a golden mask."

Hearing the word ball intrigued me, I interrupted his stream of words. "A ball dress? What have you been brewing in that head of yours, Geoffrey?" I smiled, imagining what kind of dress could even fit my grey-reddish fur.

"I knew you'd like it. Back to 'swift'. You are to attend a ball meant for aristocracy; what better opportunity to claim the young Duke's heart? He is an exquisite dancer, plenty of opportunities to get nicely close and intimate."

"That is all very well, but I cannot dance."

"Even better! He loves to teach inexperienced ladies. Good girl, in your embrace he'll melt completely." His stare clouded dreamily, certainly imagining what other things I could melt.

I rested my cheek on my paw, tired. I wanted to finish the meeting and get some sleep. After I repeated the whole plan, the bull nodded and he was about to stand up. I halted him; my broken bow knocked sharply on the table as I presented it.

He glanced at it, leaning on the table. "Yes, I have seen how badly it got mangled. I can get you a new one for good price if you want."

"Accept it as a gift; I think a weapon once proudly wielded by the warrior vixen will look nice in your collection. And thanks for the offer, but I will look for one myself."

His cheeks lifted in a sudden smile; gently picking up the bow he inspected the curved wood. "I was about to ask myself, thanks! I don't have many warrior maiden's items in my possession, let alone of those I met myself." That felt nice. Usually when someone bathed me in admiration, I had to clean my fur thoroughly afterwards.

He kissed me on my cheek, acting as if we hadn't slept together before. "Get some sleep girl, I can see you are weary. The ball is scheduled in late April; depart this week, that will give you ample time to travel and get acquainted in Cyrila Capital. Villion is a bit idiomatic but he will teach you plenty of tricks, if you let him get used to you."

I remembered something even Mana forgot to address, and I playfully licked my lips. "And what about that punishment?"

He laughed softly, wrapping his large arms around my waist and speaking directly into my foxy ear, "I deemed it not necessary. After all you've done for me, how could I?"

Though glad he had let it slide, I was curious. "Truly? You made it sound so perverted yesterday."

Mana turned me around and gently walked me to the door, "Just forget about it. If you feel horny, I organised an orgy for my closest friends on Wednesday. Show up if you feel like it."

I growled like a horny wolf and said goodbye. Mana laughed heartily as he closed the door, making sure not to accidentally hurt my tail. I knew right then I wouldn't attend the orgy; I disliked group sex activities about as strongly as I disliked anal sex.

I felt restless; the long talk with Geoffrey made me think, and I realized that, after trying for so long, I had succeeded. Yet at the same time, that success was built on someone's death. I keep telling myself, even now, that the men - or any of my victims which found their end by my sword - deserved nothing better.

I draped myself in soft sheets, back in the room I had grown so accustomed to. I finished reading the Dragon Sonata, its conclusion a tragedy - much to my distaste. The love the dragons were bestowed with glowed far stronger than any I found in my life, but in the end it destroyed them, turning their minds mad. It filled me with sadness; shutting the book, I closed my eyes, a strange thought lingering my mind. Who is going to write the sad end of my diary?

Monday, 22th March 830

When I woke up, the daunting thoughts left my mind, as if turning into a thick mist that has covered the town. I was more than happy to stay inside, passing time transferring coins into a magic imbued purse. Mana had visited me in the morning and brought me it as a present, along with good smelling breakfast.

He had stroked my cheek, joking, "What a gold digger!" I had simply waived him off; my sex drive resembled the outside air in its coldness and the bull was too big for casual sex anyway. The gold coins disappeared inside the bottomless purse; no matter how many I stored in it, it kept its size and weight.

An hour later someone knocked on my door, much to my displeasure. I was trying on some clothes I found in the wardrobe and posing in front of the mirror. A sexy looking corset was tightly hugging my curves and pushing my breasts together; it had a beautiful dark red colour and glistened even in the low light. My loose opening was half covered by see-through laced panties, black as night and silky to the touch.. All I had to do was pull them slightly to the side and my vixenhood was again fully exposed, ready to be pounded by a strong male. My jugs were covered in the same fashion, nipples perfectly visible, even trough the cloth. A second knock snapped me out of my lust driven state.

I said, "Come in!"

Fiona walked inside, her hair tied in yet another perfect braid. She kept changing the style day to day. Her appearance always gave an obvious message: she wasn't a courtesan like rest of the brothel women. She wore a purple blouse and pants like a male, clothing that would raise one or two conservative eyebrows.

She laughed when she saw me. "Hi there Marcella; just dressed for the occasion, I see. The strangest thing happened. A young human came in, named Belmont, and asked for you. Should I send him here?"

That surprised me, I didn't expect him to actually show up at the brothel. I was about to respond when Fiona spoke, "That is a very good corset you found there. Even if it isn't really a corset. Mind if I prepare you a bit?"

"Not in the slightest." She seated me on a stool, right in front of the mirror and gave me a quick touch up. She braided my dark brown hair, groomed the fur on my face and gently tightened the corset, though it remained easy to breath and it comfortably clasped my body. Searching for something in the wardrobe, she disappeared in it completely.

"Do you wear make up?" she asked.

The natural fur pattern on my face already did a good job of accentuating my features. "No, I prefer being natural. What are you searching for there?" She presented lewd looking shoulder gloves and thigh highs, both black in colour and semi-transparent, probably part of the same set as the corset.

Fiona put the cloths on me, admiring the result. "Good, it's a bit vulgar but sexy nonetheless. Ready for him?"

I nodded; selling myself cheaply was enough to get me going. Fiona slipped out of the room. The mist let in very little light; I decided to light an oil lamp that was hanging on the ceiling. Dull light filled the decadent room, reflecting off my soft fur and the tight corset.

I climbed on top of the bed and dropped on my knees, resting my hands palms down on my thighs. Belmont nervously opened the door and peeked in, my tail swishing blissfully at the sight of him. Inviting him in, I purred, "Hello Belmont. Came to visit your hurt vixen?" He softly swooned at the doorstep, fumbling with the door handle as he closed the door. I was still in my position, waiting for him to claim me. He was clothed in civilian clothing, rough leather pants which looked like they seen their share of brawls, and a clean, white shirt. What caught my attention was a big recurve bow hanging on his back by the string.

He hesitantly walked next to me; then, with a masked breath, he puckered his lips and kissed my nose. I winked at him twice and puffed my chest. "I shall thank you on behalf of my tail. It is healing fast, thanks to you." His bow intrigued me; I asked about it next. "Is that your bow?"

His eyes bright and faithful, he presented it and I could only gasp at the handiwork. A beautiful piece of wood, despite its simple bow sight. On its belly was a neatly carved name, Cynthia.

"I saw that yours is broken and remembered we had this in storage." He was impatiently waiting for my response.

I snatched it from his hand, completely discarding my act of courting. I pulled the string fully back, pleased with the force required. "This is great! Someone put his soul into crafting this weapon. I only have one question, who is Cynthia?"

Belmont's expression grew sad; something unpleasant was on his mind. "A white wolf warrior lady. She wanted to enter the city; I was to carry out the entry examinations, but Bosnar barged in, kicked me out and I haven't heard of her since. She fought back fiercely from what I know, he has had deep scars on his back ever since. I tremble at the thought of what the other guards did to her. I found her gear and weapons tucked away in the storeroom. She is either dead or sold into slavery. I don't know which is worse."

"I will carry on her legacy as best as I can. Thanks, Belmont." I might, I thought, even avenge her one day. I put the bow next to my arrows, exposing my butt as I bent to reach the tight spot next to the wardrobe. Shaking my hips sensually, I walked back to the lad and pushed him on the bed. I growled as deeply and sexually as my throat allowed me. "Anything special for my guard? You can have the vixen of your desires for a mere fifty gold. Disrobe if you agree." The normal rates are higher, but he had gifted me with the bow after all.

I decided to help him ditch his clothes, stroking his thighs and crotch with my paws, growling softly for him. Shedding the leather pants, his slowly erecting member slipped into my furred hand and I stroked it gently. He moaned, kneading my breast through the dark, laced cloth. His shirt followed and I nuzzled his neck, breathing in his fresh, clean smell. It was so remarkable; I sniffed at him for minutes, completely lost in the sensation. Eventually, too aroused to continue, I pushed him playfully and the young man fell onto the spacious bed.

I climbed atop him, swaying my hips and teasing him with my soft cunt, her lips provocatively half-hidden under the transparent, exquisite panties. "Stay like that and enjoy the show, handsome!" His throbbing cock held my gaze; a delicious looking bead of pre emerged from the tip and I had a hard time resisting the urge to envelope his shaft in my mouth. Turning around, I pulled at the side of the panties, exposing my moist opening completely. As I bent over slowly, I heard his strong moan and I heated up in arousal, the fur on my pubic mound itching softly. Pulling my ass cheeks apart I forced my pussy to gape open.

Having someone to watch as I handled my body so roughly made my thighs tremble in anticipation. I could not wait anymore and I faced him. Dropping on all fours I shuffled over, licking his young face. He laughed, "Not in my sweetest dreams have I imagined vixens were this wild!" I leaned against his quivering prick, guiding it with my clawed hand into my needy flower. We both yelped lightly as his cock-head slipped inside and I bit my lip. He grabbed me firmly by my waist and bucked his length into me, impatient for it to enter and fill my depths.

"Let me handle this, young man." He was too eager to start, which would have meant a fast finish. I bounced atop him, silent at first; his twitching member stiffened and I found a pleasant rhythm to ride him in. My moans filled the room and I dreamily looked into his eyes. Belmont was completely ecstatic, bathing me in a loving gaze. He firmly grabbed my hands and pulled, fingers entwined; I fell on his firm chest. He welcomed me with a deep, wet kiss, his tongue exploring the hidden curves of my mouth. For me it was just a job, even if I liked it. For him, I must have been everything that moment.

"You're so passionate Marcella, I haven't felt this adored in a long while," he whispered in my vixen ear. Ruffling the reddish fur on my back, he ran his fingers all the way to my bottom and tightly squeezed, forcing me to moan. I slapped his hands playfully, and got back on my knees as he left my depths, our mixed fluids trickling down my sensitive nether lips.

Before the lad could speak, I put a finger on his sweaty lips. "Just changing positions, I hope you don't mind a nice view." I faced away from him and lifted my tail, feeling his stare on my lewd openings. With some guiding his manhood slipped back inside me, I arched my back and loudly moaned. My pussy quivered as he stretched my love canal with every pass; his hand rudely slapped my butt and I yelped in lust. With fingers etching deeply into my soft flesh he pulled at my cheeks, making me feel loved and worshipped.

My back opening twitched as he rubbed it with a saliva coated thumb, slightly prodding at the muscle. Looking over my shoulder, still mating wildly, I scolded him, "If you want to live then leave my ass alone." His reply I did not hear, too lost in lust.

I felt his cock-head swelling deep in my trembling slit and I stroked my clitoris in preparation. I wanted us to finish together, the climax nearing faster than I expected. With a loud grunt he yanked me closer by my waist, warming my deepest ridges with strong and rich spurts of his cum.

My vaginal muscles clamped down in a strong orgasm; I came with a loud fox bark once I felt his seed filling me in crude, irregular jets. He locked me tight to him, shallowly thrusting in time with his streaks of cum. My whines dissipated and I bucked my hips few times, full and sated. I slid next to him, finding myself in his soft embrace. He was stroking my hot, sweaty body and sniffing in my scent. His cum escaped my velvety folds, staining the silky blanket we made love on.

"Can I stay here for a while longer? I can't get enough of you." I laughed softly at his words. On its own, my tail wrapped up tightly around him; the rebellious thing must have fallen in love with the man. Belmont softly stroked my fluffy brush, gently caressing the aching spot at its root.

I could only agree. "Stay, your skin feels nice against my fur. Besides, my tail wouldn't let you go even if you wanted to." I welcomed the lad's company; he was kissing the back of my head affectionately and hugged me tightly. For a guard he was very kind. He stroked my belly and asked me to strip naked; with a little help I slid out of the corset.

Tracing over the wounded spot on my stomach, he whispered, "Incredible! There is even new fur growing where the cut was."

I grabbed his hand, enveloping it in my palm. "Now you know why I don't have any scars." His breath washing over my left ear made me realise I lied. At times I wished I could heal that scar too.

"And this one?" he said.

I sighed, feeling my privacy being invaded. "Not a story for your ears. Anyway, did you like mating with me?" It was obvious he did, I only wanted to divert his thoughts.

"Wish I could have you every day." The slight hint of despair in his voice made my ears twitch. I got on my feet and stretched my body, giving him another chance to eye me over. It was time for the nice guard to leave.

"I will be leaving soon, this week. We will most likely never meet again. I just want to say it was nice knowing you, be the nice guard you are and you'll always have cute vixens all over you." He smiled at my words as he dressed on the bed.

"That is the single nicest thing anyone ever said to me. Thanks, Marcella." Once clothed, he tightly hugged me and slipped fifty coin in my hand, paying for my services.

Asking him to wait I grabbed the Dragon Sonata and slid it in his pocket, of course teasing his bulge at the same time. "As a thanks for the bow. Farewell, Belmont!"

He just had to kiss my nose again, forcing his smell down my nostrils. "Thanks. I will never forget you. Goodbye!"

I felt empty after his departure, I cleaned my body and fur in the bathroom, washing away his musky smell. The natural fragrance kept turning me on and it clouded my mind. Afterwards I chatted with some of the brothel girls, gossiping and sharing tips. It kept my mind from dwelling on things I deemed unpleasant, and some of the girls were even fun to talk with. The rest of the day was unremarkable. I kept napping in my room, mind wandering as I stared at the window, mist licking its coloured glass lazily.

Tuesday, 23th March 830

Having been so long in Krelholm, my desire to travel increased with every passing day. It was nigh time to buy supplies and prepare for my journey. I couldn't wait to try out the bow Belmont gave me. Everything I needed I managed to find in the Morph Quarter, products filling my pouches until they were packed to bursting. Once done I found myself in Jacques' Poetry Chest. The door bell conjured a smile on my vulpine face as it chirped.

The keeper of the shop greeted me nicely again, I walked towards him. Thick, dark blue carpet muffled the sound of my footsteps. He himself was wearing a worn down suit, dark green in colour. It looked tailored to fit and it gave him a noble appearance. I saw the strange painting again, the lizard lady in it smiling, as if she knew something I did not. I had to find out.

I traced my paw along the glossy counter, the older man looked at me, smirking meekly. "Anything I can help with today, Marcella?" He appeared sickly, his face devoid of colour and life, writing something in a small book. His state uneased me and I decided to at least cheer up the older man.

"That can wait. I'd like a chat if you have time?" I rudely sat on the counter, that alone made his mood rise.

"Absolutely!"

The conversation flowed freely at first, I tried to steer the topics discussed but he was stubborn as a mule. Mentioning the Dragon Sonata seemed like a good idea to me. "Finished that book you sold me. Even though the last chapter was a bit melancholic, I loved it."

His eyes squinted, lips forming in a sly grin, as if he expected just that. "The author is well known for this. I'm a fan of him myself, his words flow like velvet. No other author comes off as smooth."

I licked my lips, my slowly healing fox brush sliding on the counter lazily. I couldn't resist at least a little tease. "Especially the spicy parts. The descriptions of the dragons rough love made my head spin in arousal. I could almost feel the male dragon close to me, ready to take my body for his own." I looked deeply into his eyes; the shopkeeper blushed softly, but his stare remained lifeless, full of sorrow. He very quickly glanced at the portrait that held my thoughts. I would have missed his reaction if not for the fact I observed him closely.

"Yes, those are extraordinary," he said, his voice silent and distant. "Dragons of the legends, just like their creator Rufus Malevor Abretius, regarded by people as simple figments of imagination." He stood up from his seat, walking about the shop and inspecting the books he sold, doing so with almost otherworldly passion.

He continued, "People think it a myth, yet any scholar or magician worth their salt will tell you it's truth and happily offer historical evidence. After three hundred years everything seems to turn into legend. Are you familiar with the story?" Stopping in front of the painting, he pointed his green eyes at me, reservation reflected in them.

Abretius, a name that just rings in my ears every-time I heard it. It is said he single handedly created all of the morphs, along with several mythical beasts and creatures. Mentioning the master wizard's name aloud is enough to start many heated conversations. "Yes, I know of the legend. To be honest, I can hardly believe a single man could create all of the morphs. It sounds too convenient, giving any lowly human an excuse to abuse us, and any stupid morph to act superior."

The shopkeeper, whose name I was not aware of yet, snickered. "Then how would you explain feral animals? And their strong fear of your kind?" His response forced all of my fur to stand up.

"I cannot say. It is just hard for me to believe someone would be sick enough to create who knows how many races, probably for his own amusement."

The older man turned his gaze away from me. "Bad person or not, I think I owe him gratitude. In a way, I wouldn't have met the love of my life if not for his actions." He screeched as his voice made a sudden tonal shift. I walked over, not knowing what to make of his words.

"You all right Jacques?"

"That is my wife's name." He sighed. "Sorry, I cannot blame you for taking a guess. My name is Milo." His was staring at the lady in the painting, her smile as foreboding as it was enigmatic.

I finally figured it out. "She is your wife? She looks kind, and very beautiful." I tried to squeeze his shoulder in an attempt to soothe him; my soft paw did not have the desired effect.

Milo inhaled shakily, almost sobbing. "She still lives in my heart, and in this painting. I love you Jacqueline, to this very moment... And I can never bring myself to stop loving you."

I felt sorry for him. Looking back, I don't think I had any reason to. Happiness in life is only temporary; the time they had together must have been beautiful, even if it ended in tragedy. Most of us don't even get that far.

"I'm sorry Milo. I did not want to open any old wounds."

His green eyes livened up; he wiped a tear from his wrinkled face and smiled. "No, it is good. I needed to let it out, this shop hardly gets any visitors. And the few that frequent rarely have time to chat with me. Thanks."

I hugged him softly, his moist cheek brushing my fur and hair. "Feeling better? Tell me more about her if you want." It seems that my comforting skills improve at times when I don't think about sex. He stepped from me, leaning against a thickly filled bookshelf.

"I met her before the segregation law was implemented. I fell in love immediately, she had a cute sense of humour and could do incredible things with her tail. I never had much to offer, but my love was always enough for her. That is something I never found with any other woman, before or after. Time went by, I finished my studies and the segregation law was passed. I packed my things without much as a second thought and moved in here; she inherited the shop from her uncle and gladly welcomed my help. She was against naming the shop after herself, something about market positioning or such, I coaxed her to at least use the male variant of her name." His eyes watered, looking somewhere on the carpet below me. "The nights were beautiful, just the two of us entwined close together for long hours. It always felt like a dream to me, her scales soft like a human skin. Some nights she would smile deviously, whisper some crazy idea in my ear and I could never say no..."

I was breathing shallowly; the expression in his face, the way he blushed as he remembered the past - I even felt jealous in a way. I could never bring myself to open up to someone, those few times I did burning me badly. "How did she pass away?" I had my reservations about asking, but I was sure it would bring him peace.

"We got attacked one late night; some panther brute did not find it to his tastes that a human was walking about freely. He sent me to the ground before I could even react; Jacqueline, completely enraged, attacked him. She whipped him with her tail until his fur was soaked with blood, but it wasn't without its price. He pierced her soft scales with claws. We cleaned the wounds as fast as we could, it did not help. That disgusting lowlife had some filth behind his claws; she got blood poisoning and nothing we tried helped." He broke into a sobbing, crying mess, face twisting in deep sorrow. I had no idea what to do.

He managed to calm down enough to continue. "Magicians, doctors, a tribal shaman. I was desperate, mad even. She was slowly dying in front of my eyes. I contacted a crime lord by the name of Mana. He could not help either, but he found the panther and delivered him skewered on a pike. In the end, it only made me feel worse." I did not mention I know Mana; having him presented from a different angle was disturbing and I didn't feel like dwelling on the fact.

He walked back behind the counter, his chest erratically heaving with his irregular breathing. I made sure he got there easily, walking beside him. "My lovely Jacqueline passed away on a Friday; thankfully I was there to say goodbye. It took me months to stop crying, after a while the pain numbed but never left. Eleven years later, I am still living only for her."

I couldn't hope to imagine the loneliness the man went through every day. I wanted to say he should move on, that it was time to forget. Looking in his face, old love deeply etched into his teary eyes, I could not bring myself to do so. "I wish someone would love me as tenderly as you love Jacqueline."

Milo was back in his chair, wiping his face dry with a towel. I leaned on the counter and said, "I did not expect you to reveal this to me. Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm glad I did, even if it hurt. I'm okay, thanks." Looking at him, it was hard to say if anything changed at all. Perhaps he would move on one day; I sensed I was the first person he expressed himself to. Or perhaps I liked the idea of it at the moment.

I decided to ask him for some books, giving him a distraction for a while. Unlike Dragon Sonata the novels I bought were a lot cheaper; he convinced me they would entertain me on the road just as well. Milo sounded healthier as I bid him goodbye; he jokingly blew me a kiss, certainly inspired by my first visit. "Glad you stopped by, good luck on your travels, Marcella! And thanks for listening to an old, broken man."

"Keep your head up Milo, you can still find something to live for. Goodbye!" I made sure not to close my aching tail in the door as I walked out. I felt conflicted after the shop visit, my fox legs walking on their own. I kept repeating the conversation in my mind. I nearly circled the whole Morph Quarter before I reached Midnight Floweret; Fiona greeting me inside. I was glad to see her, nodding back at the talkative cat and walked upstairs.

I spent the rest of the day chatting with some of the girls and sleeping. They again proved to be a very nice distraction; delightful perfumes, glistening, well kept fur, and revealing clothes. Of course the topics we covered were shallow at best; I promoted Milo's shop to some of them - he deserved at least some recognition. The courtesans themselves were a joy to look at. I am mostly straight, but when Xenia - a tall tiger morph - showed me her sensual dancing my pussy lips tingled in arousal. She had taught me some nice dance moves which I wanted to try out in front of an aroused male right away. Joking, I asked her if she wanted to stay in my bed during the night and against all odds, she said yes. She warmed me up nicely while I was asleep, resting her tail between my thighs. And she didn't even insist on groping my breasts.

Thursday, 25th March 830

The day of my departure. Today. I geared up completely, leaving the red collar to rest on the bed. I hardly used the thing, and if I succeed, maybe I can finally stop overworking my tail. I took a long, hard look at the woman in the mirror. A true warrior vixen with sharp claws, determined look, clothed in leather armour garb and nude pussy hidden behind a blouse. Who am I kidding, I love overworking my tail.

Wanting to say goodbye, I visited everyone in the brothel, even Rona. She was unhappy but resisted the urge to fight me. "Try to enjoy yourself and look for deeper beauty at times", I said to her. I think she ignored me, but at least she had the decorum to wish me good luck. Fiona tied my hair in an exquisite, complicated braid. The cat forced me to swear I would look out for myself, never risking more that I had to. I paid for my stay, we kissed each other on the cheek and parted. Last was Mana.

"The big day, huh?" With a soft smile he hugged me, even lifting me off the ground. He had a raging erection under his clothes, it poked my belly but the bull didn't advance on me. "Good luck warrior vixen, I will be waiting for the good news."

He blushed under the fur as I pressed my lips on his, nibbling at his mouth. I caressed the strong bulge in his pants and softly growled, "I'll return once done and I will take care of your protruding problem."

"And why not now?" he whined in a high pitch.

I could only deviously chuckle. "I want you to get pent-up and needy, thinking of me all the time. Thanks for taking care of me Mana, I don't think I would have healed so fast otherwise. Goodbye."

I left the Midnight Floweret behind me and walked the early morning streets, animatedly swishing my tail behind me. I was sad once I arrived at the gate when I realised that Belmont was not on duty. The guard that verified my documents did so swiftly; he let me through the gate and I walked away, to return who knows when, if at all. I hated the city, hated and loved it at the same time. An ugly, close minded place, but some of the inhabitants had their charms.

I headed north-west, an hour passed when I steered into the woods and found a nice clearing to rest and recollect my thoughts in these pages. I have a long journey ahead of me, and I look forward to it.