View Across the River
Story by Casca on SoFurry
Tader and his friends take a break from foraging in the wilderness to consider the myths of their community and get a little gay while no one is watching
Another abandoned attempt to explore my setting during my hiatus, this time with squirrels. I think I like Tader and his gang even more than I like Maypel, they have the advantage of playing off each other and not having a hero's journey all set up from word one.
Tader and his scurry settled in the boughs of a maturing sycamore that shaded the river bank. Chetchi and Snaptooth immediately started pulling burrs and bugs out of each other's fur while Aksel inspected his spear, but Tader stared away from the other squirrels toward the far side of the valley over the river. The scattered thickets of trees that dotted the land were vibrant green and a panoply of spring flowers carpeted the meadows between them. Yet, Tader couldn't turn his eyes away from the forbidden woods.
Its layered canopy began where the slope rose toward the mountain and dominated the lesser half the valley's far side. Truly ancient trees, trees that didn't grow near the dreys, loomed with quiet grace. Dozens, maybe hundreds of different kinds of younger trees fought for space. Its wild beauty was arresting but nothing was quite so compelling as the Barghest's Garden.
In the center of the forest, the trees grew leaves of red, blue, and shades of purple. Their canopies were tangled together becoming a single, mottled mass of unnatural color from this distance. A warm breeze sent ripples across the valley's foliage in a gentle pattern but the Garden shuddered against the flow. It defied the wind. How could such trees exist?
"Tader," Snaptooth said insistently. "You're staring."
Tader gave a start but didn't lose his balance. "What do you think is in those trees over there?"
"Barghests." Aksel said. He said it the same way he might have called out rain or a weak branch while they foraged: a genuine fact without emotion or judgment.
Snaptooth scoffed. "Are you five years old? Barghests aren't real."
"I'm not the one who bites rocks," Aksel replied as he shot to his feet.
"That was a dare! My honor was at stake!" Snaptooth started to rise but couldn't manage to untangle himself from Chetchi's arms to start scrapping.
"Who says barghests aren't real?" Chetchi asked to keep the conversation on track.
"Just think about it," Snaptooth began, eager as he ever was to prove himself right. "The elders tell babies that there are beasts that walk like people and roam the woods, hunting for souls. Everyone learns to avoid the obviously sick trees at the center and our trees stay healthy."
Tader shook his head. "Those trees have always been that color. They are too old to be so sick and still standing."
"Exactly. Barghests," Aksel said, quite proud of himself.
Snaptooth threw up his paws in frustration. "Then it's some parasite. Or maybe the soil is poisoned. Maybe the trees make us sick. There's definitely an answer that's not a soul-sucking monster-tribe. That's stupid."
"But there's something howling out there," Chetchi said as diplomatically as he could manage while leaving Snaptooth alone in the debate.
"How am I the youngest and the only one making any sense?" Snaptooth asked as he shook a branch, begging the tree to back him up since the rest of them wouldn't.
Almost immediately the discussion devolved into meaningless banter. Aksel goaded Snaptooth. Snaptooth took the bait. Chetchi gave up mediating. In record time, a good-natured scrap rattled the boughs. A few fists, a wild elbow, and a poorly timed kick sent them tumbling a branch down before they gave up the fight.
Tader couldn't help but smile. Snaptooth and Aksel kept each other sharp. No one in their drey came to blows as often those two but if anyone ever picked a fight with one of them, they had picked a fight with both of them. It was uncanny. Tader had once watched Aksel stop in his tracks half a mile across the village, sprint into a fight, then turn on Snaptooth in front of everyone for being an ungracious winner.
Whatever happened between the four of them, Tader's gang was committed to each other. Other scurries might form and break out of convenience or petty squabbles but Tader's friends were more like brothers. So for their sake he cast the forbidden forest out of his mind. Instead he spread himself over Aksel's lap and pretended to nap, accepting the other squirrel's fingers stroking through his fur.
The other three followed his lead and a restful mood took over the tree. The sun crept through the sky and cozy shadows kept them from baking in the quiet afternoon. Aksel fell asleep with a low pitched snore while Chetchi and Snaptooth cuddled in each other's bushy tails. As much fun as exploring was, Tader loved these breaks more than any other part of their days gathering for the drey.
But he suspected Chetchi and Snaptooth were more fond of getting away from the busy life in the village than he was. In the field, there was no one sneering at how close they had become since their youth. No derisive tittering among a doe and her friends, no bucks looking to scrap with the weirdos, no elders whining about dishonor. Just the rustle of trees, the rushing waters, and the sunshine. So when Snaptooth let out a subtle, meaningful chuckle, Tader kept quiet so as to not interrupt their fun.
Chetchi cooed hotly as he stroked the soft dome of Snaptooth's belly, spiraling slowly southward as they exchanged little kisses, nuzzles, and luridly sweet nothings. Snaptooth had always been the last squirrel to lose his winter weight and the first to put it back on. When they were little it had always bothered him but Chetchi was never any less eager to put paws to his body. To him, Snaptooth was Cuddlefluff, Pillowberry, and Summerbun. If it weren't so genuine, Tader and Aksel would have teased them more about how twee it all was. But they weren't getting their shaft polished as soon as no one else was looking.
Chetchi hummed softly as his fingers finally found their way under Snaptooth's loincloth. He seemed to cherish the feel of Snaptooth's flesh in his hand more than Snaptooth himself. Slowly reacquainting himself for the thousandth time with his five turgid inches. He cinched his fingers around the base and squeezed up its length to coax out a slick bead of precum to use as lube while Snaptooth tried not to wake the other two just an arm's reach away.
Chetchi set the pace as always. Snaptooth was willful, even belligerent, but Chetchi was patient
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