FSE

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It was a misty morning, the sort where the sunlight that streamed in through the treetops ended up being muddled and dispersed by the heavy cloud of fog hanging in the air and thus serving little to illuminate much of anything directly. Nothing had definite form in such a fog until it came within a few inches of the viewer's eyes, lurking around in peripherals as loose shadows and murky darkness...

...which had been exactly the problem of a raven hopping around in a clearing, as he'd banged into a branch that he didn't see until too late and now could not fly. His luck be damned at that - he had been on his way to find something to eat, but that option was out of the question now that he found himself landbound. Cold, hungry, and tired from the effort of lifting himself to his feet after tumbling the fifteen-or-so yards to the ground, the raven... well, frankly, he didn't know what he'd do. He could just wait here until something died conveniently nearby for him to snack on, but that seemed unlikely for whatever reason, and it was the time of year when any fruits or berries small enough for him to get his beak around either provided too little nourishment to be useful or would land him with a fierce stomachache.

However, after hearing something in the brush nearby, he came to the conclusion that there were things more worth worrying about than finding food - such as being able to escape if needed. That just came as part of being a bird: the want, the need to have a way out at any given time. Sure, he'd just love to fly, but with this wounded wing... it probably never hurt to try, though he'd already done that and just ended up crashing into the ground again. He could try hopping, but that wouldn't be much good against a predator large enough to want to hunt him. It wasn't clear if it was just his panicked imagination - since, really, all of the moisture in the air should thoroughly dampen any scent - but he thought he could pick up a hint of canid floating by... if it was a wolf-

"Aaahh," suddenly came a sandpaper voice from deep in the brush, "what's that I smell? Is that... fear, perhaps?"

The raven took a few unsteady steps back away from the voice, but ended up tripping on a pebble - and landed on his bad wing, causing him to let out a squawk. He managed to pull himself back up just as a hyena, fur the color of the fog striped with shadow, crept out of the far side of the clearing. Misty olive eyes locked on to the raven, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to hop quite fast enough.

"Oh. Would you look at this." The hyena lowered his nose to the ground but kept those eyes of his forward as he continued to approach. "Who would have thought that on such a... dreary day as today, I'd find my most desired of meals? Live prey. Oh, it's been... so long."

Petrified, the raven stood on unsteady feet, watching the hyena as he gradually stalked closer. He - the raven could tell it was a male because, at his height, he could very easily see the damn dirt dog's sheath and hanging sack as he walked - did so... confidently, so pompously, as if he already knew that he'd be eating well today.

The thing was, though, he probably would. The raven was unsure if it brought him relief knowing that he would die today, or horror for this same reason.

"Wh..." The raven swallowed. "What's a hyena doing in the... the forest?"

"Mmm. What's a bird doing on the ground?" The hyena had started with a circular approach, tracing around the outside edge of the clearing and slowly coming in, but at this he suddenly turned and leapt forward a foot. Dust from beneath his paws temporarily clouded the raven's sight of him - and then, the first thing to be revealed was the hyena's slavering jaws and yellowish-white fangs as he licked his chops. "Can you tell me that?"

"I-I was... I couldn't see, and - a tree-" ...that vaguely canid scent he'd caught a taste of earlier had definitely belonged to this hyena. As he came closer, that scent grew stronger: it was rich, musky, exactly the sort of smell he'd expect to hover off of this sort of creature - and it was also what instilled such freezing fear in the bird's heart, the scent of a predator, carrying the same undertones of any other animal that he'd rather steer clear of than eat after, even being a scavenger.

"Aaah." That sounded like a deep exhalation of breath, like a heavy tree loose in the ground swaying against the dirt almost holding it down. By now, the raven had simply given up fleeing - and still the hyena drew closer and closer, close enough so that he could feel each hot breath in his dew-laden feathers. "Adorable. You thought I actually cared. I'll give it to you straight, bird: I'm hungry, and you... mm, you look...just right."

The raven shrunk back against the trunk of a tree behind him as the hyena leaned in, uncomfortably close - his heart almost stopped - and sniffed at him, head to foot. Then, he let his tongue flop out of his lips, black as coal and greasy as graphite, and - dragged it up along the bird's side. He could tell that this hyena hadn't eaten in a while: the scent of hunger was heavy on his hot breath, and the broad, flat tongue left his feathers matted and dripping with thick saliva.

"Ah. Yes. That was fear I could smell - and it's as strong of a taste on you as is the taste of one doomed. Fear adds a pleasant... spice to the meat, you know?" The hyena, maintaining his closeness, lay down and, for a brief moment, rested his muzzle on his front legs. "...No. I suppose not." Then, he lifted it back up. "What? You aren't going to run, little bird? Not going to flee?"

A squeaky "I... I-" was all that could be offered as a response.

"I don't think it's quite fair to... consume prey that did not have a chance. So, go on." The hyena nodded his head towards the brush. "I will give you a headstart. That's called 'mercy'."

"I..." The raven glanced over towards where he'd nodded - though the weight and odor of the saliva that still coated half of his body impeded his vision and thoughts... "...you're... letting me go?"

"For a short time, yes. Or if you're content with your fate..."

Well, now that he was given a damn chance, the raven teetered forward and started hopping towards the edge of the clearing, hoping against his luck that the hyena would lose him in the thick brush. However, as he hopped he became acutely aware of the noise of the canid rising to his feet and slowly following, one step at a time, at an embarrassingly leisurely pace. The raven slowed down once he was out of breath - and then felt the weight of a heavy paw pushing him down into the ground.

"Well," purred the hyena, "there was your headstart. Shame you didn't do more with it. Oh well."

Again the raven could feel hot breaths on his body, and - was that another drip of saliva that just landed in the dirt next to him?- "Wait, wait, I-"

"-want another chance? Oh, what if I let you go too far? That would be unfortunate. If you want to play that game, I could... oh, I don't know..." The paw lifted from his body, but he knew by the shadow that came over him that the hyena hadn't given up; the raven rolled over to see the canid's sand-colored chest above him as he stepped forward - and then his belly - and then that same sack and sheath. Just as he tried to move out of the way, one of the hyena's strong back legs came forward and pinned him in place. "...claim you as mine. Mark you. It won't ward off anyone else that may get to you before me, but... it'll make the meal less tasty. Their loss; I rather enjoy the flavor."

That thick sheath started lowering towards the raven, and he tried in vain to wriggle free. As it lowered, the hyena's musk became stronger and more concentrated, to the point where it almost overpowered the bird, made him dizzy... "You would?! You - you wouldn't!" -but still the hyena lowered his body, stopping when his full sack hovered an inch above the raven. He was almost the same size... "...would you?!"

"I could." His rough voice sounded muffled - probably due to the plump sheath right by the raven's head. "I would like to. However, had I known I'd soon be given the chance to season a meal to my liking, I wouldn't have just claimed a rather attractive tree just a few minutes ago... oh well. I could still..."

The weight of the back paw lifted from the raven's body, but just as soon as he sucked in a breath, he was grinded back into the dirt - this time by the hyena's full sheath, squeezing him between the dusty earth and hot fur hiding hard flesh. Of course here the scent was strongest, ingraining in his nostrils a sharp mix of dog, grime, masculinity, dominance, hunger - and - desire, maybe?... the hyena did not let up for a while, moving his hips forward and back to thoroughly rub his scent into the raven's feathers. As much as he hated being in this position, he took a little bit of... pleasure, somewhat, in the intense warmth given off by the sheath and heavy pouch, also weighing down on him...

Finally, though, the hyena lifted back up - but as he did so, the raven felt a little splatter of a liquid, of pre, from the pink tip of his cock, having been coaxed out of his brown sheath in the midst of the scentmarking. The raven felt - not only violated, but-

"Hmm, let's see..." However, before he could react, the hyena had turned back around and was again sniffing at him with his cold nose. "...yes, that's better... a thorough coating of musk always adds a nice flavor. So, tell me, bird... would like to go down smoothly? Or shall I chew you up first?"

The raven felt every flick of his tongue as he spoke, a sensation that made him shiver with dread. He absolutely reeked of hyena- "Neither!"

"Well, yes, but I'm afraid that's not a choice."

So it had to end like this... sure, he knew that already, but now that his doom was literally staring in his face, literally waiting to consume him... "I... I'd like to go down as- smoothly as possible..."

"Mm." The hyena licked his lips. "Shame. I could pluck out your eyes, spin you around, open my maw, and see where you wander... I could carry you around, keep you fed on nothing but piss and the secondhand remains of whichever brethren of yours are unlucky enough to end up in my belly... I could crunch you between my teeth. But, I suppose I do owe you a bit of dignity-" Dignity! Ha! Something oddly ironic about that, considering what part of his body he had just rubbed on the raven! "...so I will grant you that one wish. I suppose I should thank you for making the choice for me, for bird bones are... rather stringy, get caught in the teeth..."

And so the hyena again dragged his tongue up the bird's body, keeping him held down in place with a paw on his feet; the raven squeezed his eyes shut against the moist tongue as it tugged on his feathers and covered him further in wretched stink, almost keeping him from being able to breathe. If only he would make it fast, if only he'd - stop dragging it out - but, no: when he did open his eyes, he saw the canid's wide-stretched maw, strawberry gums, pink tongue, ivory teeth, and very, very wet. Hanging strings of saliva linked the hyena's top jaw to his lower, running between opposite pairs of teeth, between the roof of his mouth and his tongue; thick ropes, glistening like dew caught on a spider's web, and just about as sticky. The sight galvanized the raven to attempt another escape, but he was held firmly in place - he closed his eyes as the open jaws drew closer, bathing him in sickly heat; he opened them, but saw nothing as those lips drew to a close around him, the paw holding him down slipping away but leaving him with no more opening to flee; he struggled against the encroaching teeth that threatened to bite off his legs, against the pressing slimy tongue that swept him around-

He felt himself lifted up, mashed against the slick flesh of the roof of the hyena's mouth; that tongue swirled around him, covering him even more with the saliva- and then the raven felt himself being pushed back, back towards tighter flesh, constricting him on all sides, enclosing him in slick warmth...

The hyena had to swallow a few times to get that damn bird all the way down - he knew he shouldn't indulge his prey like that, but sometimes it did feel bad to make them lose all the time. Shame this time it was just a raven: a single bird, even one as large as a raven, was a small meal (this one being exceedingly so; he'd probably done the flock a favor in eliminating it) and wouldn't hold him off for long - though he could feel the extra weight in his stomach, the telltale rumblings of movement and struggle, and - if he opened his mouth - sometimes something that sounded like a pained squawk, forced out from being squished between the walls of his stomach.

He lay down for a moment - and apparently in just the right position to further squish his still-writhing prey - and thought: where there was one bird, there usually were more, too, so he took a few minutes to let his meal settle and then stood back up to resume hunting. Though the morning's fog kept him from being able to smell or see too far...

"I'll find you some company," he growled.