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Copy Cat

Chapter 17

When Etienne awoke, he was on Azrian's bed of grass and heather, and the vixen was bathing from a small basin that rested upon a stone pillar. She pushed the water back through her mane, and it tossed, falling once more to cling to the shape of her high backside and tail. He leaned on his elbow and watched her with narrowed eyes, and when her paws cupped her big breasts, he felt himself getting a little hard.

Her small paw was carefully cleaning between her thighs when she felt his stare. She looked up and smiled, long red mane cascading around the side of her face. Her lashes fluttered: she was happy.

Etienne looked at her and his heart melted. Ye gods, she was beautiful. He sat up with a groan and realized she had covered him with his cloak as he slept. He was still naked. He stretched his bulging arms above his head, yawned, and reached for his shirt, but he couldn't stop looking at her. Nor could he stop thinking of that long night with her soft body in his arms. He had never had such intense sex. It had been too overwhelming for words. She kissed him and slept in his arms afterward. He held her the night through. And it was right.

The white waterfall behind made her almost glow. Eventually, the smile fell from her lips and she dropped her eyes to the basin again: she was still worried. But what on earth was she afraid of? He had to assume it was the lasting trauma of the attack she had endured, and he felt like an ass for sleeping with her when she had only just been raped.

"How are you feeling?" he asked apologetically.

"Better," she answered and smiled at him gratefully. Corene's ring was still on her finger and glinted in the sunlight that played through the curtain of water: it was day. He could hear the birdsong. Her golden eyes scanned his face and seemed to note his worry. "I wanted it too," she assured him.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I just worry that . . . I mean." He rubbed the back of his ears and heard her laugh. That laugh relieved him. He came to her, relishing in the way her smiling eyes traced over him. The water trickled when he dipped his paw in the basin and helped her wash. She closed her eyes as his loving fingers touched her, and it reminded him of the night before, when he bathed her at the stream. It had been dark and rainy, and she had been tired and miserable. Now the sun was shining and she was content. Her little paws guided his fingers to her breasts, and he squeezed them, burying a kiss in her neck.

"Don't get me started," he warned playfully. "Or I'll never stop."

"I will hunt. Big, strong Etienne will have the fire ready?"

"In my pants?"

She broke from him with a laugh, her red tail twisting around her as she turned a happy spin and took her spear from the wall. It was small and light, with blue feathers tied to it. He hadn't noticed it before. She put it on her shoulder and made for the waterfall. He grabbed her tail before she could get away and hugged her from behind. She giggled.

"You'll come back, won't you? Promise me."

"I promise," she said softly.

Etienne watched her pass through the curtain of water before he suddenly decided to go with her. He thought of the night before, of the way he fell for her so helplessly, and he couldn't imagine never laying eyes on her again.

The prince quickly dressed and gathered his things. But the moment he stepped through the waterfall - he fell in the river. Her magic had allowed him to walk on it before. Now he swam frantically and felt her small paw pull him up by the collar. His head broke the surface and he sputtered. She giggled at him, and he smiled, looking up at her face between the undersides of her breasts.

"You can't walk the water without me," she cautioned.

She leaned down and offered her paw. With his golden mane clinging wet to his face, he took her paw. Their clasped fingers glittered with water in the sunlight.

They spent the day together in the forest. Etienne wished he had a rifle so he could help Azrian hunt. He felt useless watching her do all the work, but at the very same time, watching her was fascinating: the way she crawled through the underbrush with her backside in the air, twisting her curvy body slowly and carefully around each tree and behind each bush. It almost made him hard.

When they made camp, he insisted on cooking their catch: two fine hares and an unlucky pheasant. It was enough to last them the rest of the day with something left over for the morning, and he promised to cook her a wonderful broth they used to prepare for him back at Wychowl. He had brought a pot and cookware with him from the cavern, and as he stirred, he noticed her unhappy frown. Just mentioning Wychowl seemed to upset her. It was surprising to him that she had heard of it at all.

"You know . . ." He lowered his eyes to their breakfast and continued to stir. "You never did tell me what you're doing out here alone. I thought foxes had tribes."

"Could ask you the same thing." She sat with her legs folded, her elbows resting on her knees as she picked the shell of a nut apart.

"Ha. Touché. Except . . . you don't ask." He looked at her searchingly. "You don't seem curious at all about the handsome stranger who boned you all night long."

She blushed and avoided his eye. "Don't . . . speak of it like that . . ."

"I'm sorry. 'Made tender love to you.' Is that better?"

She blushed harder, and he laughed.

"Don't be afraid to ask. Unlike you, I am an open book."

His lips spread in a slow, teasing smile, and she looked at him irritably.

"Fine," she said, hurling the empty shells of the nut away. "What was your title in Wychowl?" She smiled to herself as she looked at the fire, and Etienne got the feeling she had asked the question knowing perfectly well what the answer was.

Etienne focused on the pot as he stirred. "You know who I am."

"The moment you told me your name," she confirmed unhappily.

Etienne glanced at her apologetically. "What is it you think I'll do? Drag you back to Wychowl to become my slave? I am not King Antony. And you are not Queen Nadheertia."

Azrian looked at him with such sad eyes, he stopped stirring.

"It's not that," she said. Her eyes became pleading. "So long as we don't go to Wychowl, I think we'll be alright. Can you promise me that?"

He slowly smiled. "Does this mean . . . you want to travel with me? Really?"

With warm eyes, she reached over and rubbed his knee. They smiled at each other.

"Will you show me the world? Will you carry me as you fly?" he teased.

She laughed. "I don't even know the world. I only just left home."

"Then I shall show you." He ladled the broth into a small bowl. They scooted close to share it, and he fed her from his spoon, watching with soft eyes as her lips pulled over it. "I have seen a great deal of Varimore. I could go back to town for supplies before we head south. That's where I was going."

Her eyes fluttered wide and she shook her head, barely catching the broth before it spilled from her mouth. "No, no! We can't go south. Not south!"

He looked at her uncertainly. ". . . alright. Where do you want to go? I'll follow you. To the ends of the earth, my love."

She smiled at the slight teasing in his voice and smoothed her small paw over his knee again. "Can't we just focus on now?"

His eyes softened. He looked at her lips and kissed them. "Your wish is my command," he whispered, lips brushing hers.

After lunch, he was happy when she snuggled into his arms. He leaned his back against a tree and held her, smiling down at her as she curled against his chest, eyes closed and content. He smoothed his fingers through her long red mane. She liked it. Her little wings shivered slightly each time he did.

"So what sort of fox are you?" he asked at length. "You aren't like any fox I've ever seen."

"You've seen my kin?" she asked doubtfully.

"Well, I did leave Wychowl on occasion," he returned with a laugh. "And dogs hunt foxes, as I'm sure you're well aware. Some of my relatives are the greatest fox hunters in the kingdom." He thought darkly of Howlester Manor, of Duke Charles, who had been so ready to send him back to Donica. He hadn't expected for Charles to hide him forever, but to send him back? The very thought made him furious.

"What were the other foxes like?" Azrian whispered, curling her slender fingers in his golden mane.

Etienne rested his cheek on her mane and smoothed his big paws up and down her narrow back. She might as well have been naked. Her breasts were covered by thin strips of deerskin and what looked like bear fur. Her fur loincloth barely clung to her backside, and he could see the bulge of her cheek under her tail. She was curled against him with her legs closed thigh to thigh, but he could smell the heat of her sex. It was maddening.

He wondered if she could smell him. He was still wearing his father's tight breeches and shirt, over which his father's gray coat was pulled. His powerful thighs and arms bulged through his clothing, and she seemed to relish in the strength of his arms around her, in which she fit perfectly.

"It's been a long time since a fox has been in my mother's . . . my stepmother's court," Etienne answered at length. "In fact, I heard there hasn't been a fox in our court for something like twenty years. Foxhounds don't usually keep foxes as slaves. When they capture them, they usually . . ." He trailed off guiltily: why would she want to hear about the skinning and mounting of her kind? He squeezed her apologetically in his arms.

"Would you stop the hunt if you became king?" she asked him quietly.

"Absolutely. Only I'm not becoming king."

There was a pause, then she whispered, "Perhaps you should."

Etienne's cloak was on the grass, and he pulled it over Azrian, covering her from the shoulder down. "What are you saying, Azrian? I thought you wanted to be with me."

"My kin are more important than what I want," she said, as if she was only just realizing.

"But I don't have to be king. If I don't return, Corene will marry someone else. She would stop the hunt, given time." He reached under the cloak and found Azrian's paw. Corene's ring was still on her finger, and he massaged it, pushing the large green jewel back and forth.

"But how can you know for sure?"

"I can't," he admitted.

". . . who is Corene?"

Etienne smiled: she sounded suspicious. "My betrothed," he answered honestly. "My hated betrothed."

"Oh."

"You never answered my question. In fact. . ." Etienne laughed. "You swung the entire conversation around and made it about me."

"Would you believe the truth if I told you?"

"After what I witnessed the other night? You were dying, did you forget? A little ghost leads me to some stones, there's a lot of light, and suddenly, you're up and walking around. I'm still mystified by it all, to be honest. And . . . by you." His fingers touched her cheek. She lifted her face to look at him. She was startled by his words. He looked at her lips and slowly kissed her.

Their lips pealed apart, and he whispered, "I love you."

She frowned and lowered her lashes. "Don't say that."

"I mean it, Azrian. I've never felt this way . . . I never thought I could."

"Etienne . . . you don't even know the first thing about me . . ."

"I'm trying."

"Don't."

He frowned. "Why?"

Fear flickered in her eyes and her lip trembled.

"Azrian . . ." He kissed her little paw. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

The misery didn't leave her face. "Can I?"

"I won't go back to Wychowl. I'll stay here with you."

"They'll come looking for you, you idiot," she moaned.

He laughed. "Then we'll go somewhere else. Anywhere." He touched her face. "So long as you're with me." He was shocked by the sudden tears that filled her eyes. "Azrian --!"

"And when I tell you the truth," she cut across him, her voice a sob, "will you feel the same then? Will you still want me?"

He shook his head in amazement and squeezed her paw. "Nothing could change my mind. Nothing! Azrian . . . please, don't cry. It hurts me to see you cry . . ." He caught her tear and frowned.

She broke from his arms and sat apart from him, staring at her limp paws as they lay in her lap. He watched her uncertainly.

"I can do things . . . things that would frighten you. You would go away."

"I wouldn't."

"I don't want you to go away."

"I won't. Show me. What can you do? You have magic, don't you? I thought all the foxes did."

Azrian shook her head. "I'm not like all the foxes."

He gave her a half-smile. "I thought that was obvious."

"This is serious!"

Azrian pulled herself up and moved some feet away, her back to Etienne. The river was in front of her, glistening in the sunlight as its cool waters flowed along. They had walked across the river to reach the tree they were under now, an ancient giant covered in moss and little white flowers. Etienne plucked one of the flowers from the grass and twirled it in his fingers as he stood behind Azrian. He peered over her shoulder and offered her the flower. She took it and stared at it, her red mane tumbling forward to hide her expression.

"Show me," he insisted. "I won't run away. I didn't run away last night, did I?"

Azrian blinked. That was true. There weren't many dogs who wouldn't have fled the forest after encountering a spirit. She said so to the flower in her fingers.

"So show me," he repeated.

They sat side by side on the cool bank, looking at the river. Azrian sat thigh to thigh again, while Etienne bent his knees and rested his elbows on them. He leaned forward to study her curiously. She was still holding the flower.

"Foxes have elemental magic, I know that much," Etienne said. "And they can . . . control the trees . . . or something."

Azrian smiled. "Not control them. Merely call on them for aid. The trees control themselves." Her eyes traced over the surrounding trees. "When my tribe lived here, the forest was pulsing with magic and the trees alive. They helped protect the foxes from the foxhounds. But trees are sluggish and lazy. They have to be asked to do anything."

Etienne laughed. He frowned and his ears flattened in his golden mane. "I heard about the fires and what my father did . . ." he said apologetically. "It must've taken the magic."

"No. The death of the Ti'uu Tribe - that took the magic."

"Ah. So you're of the tribe that used to live here. A survivor?" He frowned sympathetically.

Her lashes lowered. "_Something_like that."

Etienne smoothed his paw along her cheek and lifted her chin. "You don't have to be alone anymore," he said, gazing at her intently.

She smiled sadly and lowered her eyes again. "Why did you have to be so sweet?"

He wrapped her in his arm and smiled when she nuzzled her head in his shoulder. His fingers smoothed her mane. She twirled the little flower and seemed content. Etienne was glad.

"The fires happened twenty years ago . . . You and I would have been in swaddling - provided we were born," Etienne observed. "Foxes live a long time, but you . . . . you seem genuinely young. Who cared for you? Where are they? If you don't mind my asking."

"They are far away. I left them. To come here."

Etienne raised his brows. "Why?"

". . . I had no choice."

"I'm glad you came. We wouldn't have met otherwise, it seems."

"That's incredibly selfish," she laughed.

"I know. And I have no regrets."

She laughed again.

"So what can you do that is so frightening? Will I wet my breeches?"

"Possibly. I can take different shapes. I could take yours."

"Wow. Yeah, that's creepy. Don't do that."

She giggled.

"How can you even do that?"

"You have to touch another's soul. When I touched you, I was able to . . ."

"Get my blueprint. And now you can copy me?"

"You catch on quick."

"What about just parts of you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like . . . what if you wanted to copy a fish, but only its tail? You could keep your top half and still swim like a fish."

". . . that's disturbing."

Etienne laughed. "But I'd pay to see it."

"I dunno. I never tried just one part . . ."

Etienne smoothed his paw up her thigh to her loincloth. He pushed it aside and touched her pink clitoris. "Try," he whispered, peering intently into her eyes. He started to massage, rolling the little pink knot back and forth carefully.

Her throat tightened and her lashes fluttered. She grabbed his shoulders to brace herself as his careful fondling continued. Her lips parted and a shrill cry escaped. He kissed her but kept touching. As his fingers massaged, he could feel her clit lengthening and swelling. He glanced down and saw it stretching up between the lips of her sex, budding with a pink head, swelling with veins. He stopped kissing her and stared at what was happening. Her clit . . . was turning into _his_penis!

And he never realized just how enormous he was until he saw his own penis on someone else. Before long, a thick, hot phallus was standing firm in his paw. The head was oozing with clear precum. It rose strong from between the tight lips of her sex, which hung soft around its base. Her vagina was still there beneath the newly blossomed penis, and it was oozing with the moisture of her arousal.

Azrian looked at Etienne sheepishly, breathless and big breasts heaving. She was waiting for his disgust. Or perhaps his horror. But he could feel himself getting hard, and when she noticed it too, her lashes fluttered.

". . . I guess this answers my question," he muttered.

Azrian shied away. "I - I'll make it go away --"

"No . . ." He grabbed her by the hips before she could squirm out of reach. He couldn't stop staring at it. She closed her slender thighs and winced: she was so used to closing her legs to hide her vagina that she was embarrassed when closing her legs did not hide her erection.

She was blushing and strained when he leaned in to kiss her. But his hungry lips immediately left her mouth and trailed down her body, pausing at her hard nipples to suck and taste. She watched breathlessly as he kissed her belly, then pealed apart her thighs and kissed them.

"W-What are you going to do . . .? E-Etienne . . . ahhh." Her head fell back when he closed his mouth on her penis, devouring her in long sucks. He ate her ravenously, and after protesting only a moment, she gave away to her passion, curling her little fingers in his mane as his head moved up and down between her thighs. He licked her squirming lips and the tight sex between them before dragging his hot tongue along her shaft again. He sucked the head, then devoured, and his gulps and grunts seemed to make her harder. She was on the verge of release when he stopped.

She sat before him, trembling and aroused, her red mane tumbling her eyes. He looked at her with narrowed eyes as he unbuttoned his breeches. Out sprang his bulging penis, an exact duplicate of the one she had grown. He looked her in the eye as he carefully rubbed his penis against hers, then he drew his hips back . . . and sank slowly through her moisture.

They made love on the riverbank, and her soft, helpless cries trembled up from her as he held her close in his arms. With his every thrust, she grew wetter and her penis harder. He felt it rubbing the rippling muscles of his belly and in turn grew harder inside her. He looked in her eyes as he filled her, thinking that he loved her and would never let go.

They came together, and afterward when they lay spent, he watched as her penis shrank again into a clit.

"You sucked me," she whispered in amazement. Her cheek was on his chest, her breasts crushed to him and her long red mane draping over her.

He smoothed her mane back from her face. "Yes."

"And you sucked well. You've done it before."

"Need I remind you that I slept with no virgin the other night?"

"I'm just . . . surprised."

"There are more surprises where that came from, if you like."

Azrian laughed.

Etienne smiled to hear the sound, smoothing his big paw up her back. "Would that I could copy parts of you. You turned a part of your little kitten into a cock. If I could turn my cock into a kitten . . ."

"Then what?" Azrian said with a snort.

"We could reverse bone, of course. Oh, I'm sorry . . . make love."

Azrian playfully slapped his chest and he laughed. Her ear pricked against his chest, as if listening to his laughter. He held her tightly and kissed her head. Her slender fingers curled against the fabric of his shirt. He hadn't taken any of his clothing off while making love to her: he simply unbuttoned his breeches and let them hang, too eager to get inside her to care. But her skins and furs were hanging off her breasts and hips from his hungry paws. He rubbed his paws over her backside and clutched her in fistfuls.

"Ahh . . ." He could feel himself getting hard.

"Again?" she whispered and giggled.

"I wasn't going to ask . . ." he said as she pulled back to look at him.

Azrian sat up. "Your penis asked for you," she said with twinkling eyes. She bumped up as he swelled even thicker under her and her lashes fluttered. She looked at him softly, and her slender fingers unbuttoned his breeches.

"Azrian . . . you don't have to . . ."

She kept going. His erection pushed free, standing upright against the cool breeze. He watched helplessly as she slowly lowered the tight sheath of her sex on him. Her lips strained to take him, her clit was pulsing, and he wished he could lick it. She leaned back, big breasts thrust to the canopy of leaves overhead as she began to ride. They jiggled and rolled as she twisted her hips on him, high and firm, swollen and hard with tiny nipples. He reached up with a moan and massaged them. But he hated her so far away. He pulled her down close and kissed her, his big paws smoothing down her back and over her backside. He clutched her in fistfuls again, and as she smashed her sex on him, he brought his hips up, stabbing himself in, hard and fast. His breathless grunts steamed her ear.

"Etienne . . . oh . . ." She closed her eyes. "Etienne . . ."

They rocked, and as they moved together, she cupped his face and smiled into his eyes. She was gorgeous on top of him, her big breasts crushed together, her red mane sweeping forward to touch her cheek, her slanted eyes warm with affection.

"I . . . love you," he whispered breathlessly.

She frowned. "Etienne . . ."

"I love you!" he insisted. He kissed her, and his tongue pressed hard when his penis flinched and suddenly released. As his hot seed rushed to fill her, she tore her lips away, and her agonized scream echoed through the forest.