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Chapter 21: Say It Again

When Zaldon said they should stop looking for Enya and Theo, the younger wolves heeded his advice, but they did not stop traveling through the northern forest. As Zaldon had told them, lone wolves in desperation might decide to attack, and if they stayed in one place for too long, it would make being captured by the wood nymphs very easy. Keeno had scoffed under his breath at the very idea of "wood nymphs" but had not argued: his talk with Kel that evening was still pending and he kept silent in the hope that Kel would forget.

The group broke camp and set out as twilight's pink and purple hues sent long shadows between the trees. They set out in the usual line with Zaldon in the lead and Yuri somewhere in the middle. Keeno stayed to the rear of the group, walking just behind young Roan and Zane, his spear on his shoulder and his dark eyes thoughtful.

Enya and Zalia were just about all Keeno could think about. Where had he and Zalia gone wrong in raising Enya? Perhaps he was too close to his daughter. But was there such a thing? Could a father spend so much time with his daughter that she eventually imitated him to horrifying perfection? He wondered for exactly five seconds whether or not his playboy past had had some sort of horrible effect on Enya's sexuality before he dismissed the theory as completely asinine. Enya did not like females because her father did and -- to his shame -- had sometimes flaunted the fact in front of her. Enya liked females because that was a part of who she was. Finally admitting this to himself, Keeno reflected that he had known who he was and what he wanted at an early age much like his daughter did now: he had always secretly loved Zalia -- little Zalia, who at first was nothing more than Kilyan's bratty, annoying little sister.

But as the years passed and as Zalia's body changed, Keeno began to realize that this warmth he kept hidden in his heart for Zalia, all those times he had bopped her on the head and shoved her and pulled her tail when visiting Kilyan had been a part of his self-denial, his denial that he felt anything for Zalia outside of annoyance and a brotherly affection. But that day Zalia stumbled upon him cleaning himself off in the woods, he had looked at her with new eyes and the words "brotherly affection" suddenly became very empty.

It had been a cool autumn morning, and a sixteen-year-old Keeno had been crouched in the woods beyond the village's grazing fields. Lila had just left him after a little tryst, and he was hurriedly washing his cock off in the spring when he heard leaves crunching and looked up in alarm only to find Zalia standing there. She had a basket on her arm and had apparently been picking berries. Her bright sapphire eyes -- those beautiful eyes that always made Keeno's heart leap with their provocative glance -- had been wide in her astonishment. But Zalia's astonishment quickly melted to the usual disgust and she shook her head.

How slender, how young she had been then, those high, perky breasts and those slightly plump cheeks and arms, those round hips, and her little feet with their glossy black nails. Her nipples were as richly dark as little raisins (Keeno had always loved dark nipples on females), and her sex was dark too, but that didn't stop Keeno from noticing the cleft of her vagina, from drinking in the moist perfume of that hot nest between Zalia's shapely little thighs. He had never dared to dream of what it was like between Zalia's legs, but for the first time ever, he wanted to know. For this slender black wolf who had always been like a sister to him was suddenly something much more: for the first time in his life, sixteen-year-old Keeno realized that Zalia was a female. And a stunning female at that.

Keeno squatted very still, watching with a quiet hunger as Zalia stuck a paw on her hip and shook her head at him. Her breasts were standing out nicely -- so firm and high! -- and her round hips and shapely legs had Keeno paralyzed as his eyes darted up and down her hourglass shape, silently drinking her in.

"Ah, ha!" fourteen-year-old Zalia cried, playfully squinting one eye at Keeno. "You've been out here fooling around again, haven't you? Who was it this time? Lila?"

Zalia's nostrils flared slightly, and Keeno realized for the first time that she was jealous! Smiling to himself, he slowly stood and loved it when Zalia's perky little breasts heaved with her sudden breath. She took a step back from him. She was nervous! It amazed Keeno: he had never seen bold, fearless Zalia nervous before in his life; wild Zalia, who had always loved nothing more than to pull his ears! He suddenly realized that they were alone together for the first time in their lives: he might never have another opportunity like this again.

"Well, I'm telling Aros on you! And then I'm telling Lila's dad," Zalia went on defiantly when Keeno kept advancing, her chin lifted high, her blue eyes haughty, "and I'm telling your da--"

Keeno cut Zalia off: he leaned down and kissed her. And it was anything but a tender kiss: Keeno kissed Zalia hard and hungry on the mouth, his tongue pushing urgently against her own, his paw boldly closing over her sharp little breast and squeezing. Zalia trembled under the kiss and dropped her basket. The berries went rolling away, scattering in the grass.

"What are you d-doing!" Zalia squeaked, her breasts heaving when Keeno cupped her face.

Keeno pushed her long black tresses behind her ear and kissed her again. Zalia didn't protest and moaned through the kiss with him. She gave a little gasping cry when she felt his fingers slipping in her sex. She had never been touched there before, and it was as if someone had flicked on a switch: her entire body trembled from the pleasure. Keeno's thumb caressed her clit and she felt it start to throb. Her body was growing hot, her nipples were hard, and when Keeno said so, she stammered something out in a frightened tone that made him laugh.

"Will I put it in you? Only if you want me too," Keeno had answered her, and she couldn't believe she had asked such a thing. "How do you know about that anyway?" he asked her in amazement.

The usually shameless Zalia gave the rare blush: she had once walked in on her parents. But she didn't tell Keeno. He probably would have laughed at her the way he was always laughing at Kilyan, and how she wanted Keeno to like her -- she had always secretly wanted Keeno to like her! He was so tall and handsome and strong, and all the girls of the village were always whispering about him, his skilled fingers and his pleasing tongue, his charming audacity and the warmth of his kisses in their fur. And listening to the giggly stories of the other girls, she had never thought in a million years that he would ever see her as anything more than Kilyan's bratty kid sister. But now here he was, telling her that she smelled so good, putting wet kisses on her neck, and gently stroking between her pussy lips with his incredible touch.

But Zalia suddenly stopped Keeno. Keeno was the village playboy: he had probably said the same things to every female he'd ever been with. He pulled back in confusion -- almost as if no girl had ever stopped his advances before -- and she put her paw on his shoulder and looked him directly in the eye.

"Do you really like me, Keeno? Because I'll tell you right now: I won't be used!"

Keeno remembered gazing down at Zalia and how the fire in those blue eyes had aroused him! He knew in that moment that he would never go pussy-hunting again, and when he vowed as much, Zalia had kissed him.

"Good," she whispered, "then never let another female kiss these lips!"

They then made out against a tree in the cool shade, among the low twitter of the birds. And when Zalia's bright blue eyes smiled up at him, Keeno knew he was in love.

Present day Keeno admitted to himself for the first time that perhaps Enya and Yuri were the same way. And perhaps . . . that wasn't such a bad thing after all. He came out of his meditations when Kel suddenly dropped back to walk at his side.

Keeno took a deep breath and tried to keep his nerves in check: as he'd once confessed to Kilyan, he had once been terrified of Kel, of that strong and serious warrior and his fierce skill with spear, sling, and knife. He remembered watching in awe as Kel made demonstrations during their training sessions and thinking that he'd gladly give his tail to have that tall and dark warrior's skills. How terribly ferocious Kel had always appeared to his student warriors: those flashing fangs, those snapping green eyes, and the tight muscles of his arms, those heavy paws that left bruises when they came down on a disobedient young warrior's head. Keeno still remembered the slap Kel had given him when he was sixteen: he'd been slapped so hard for his insubordinate behavior that his teeth had cut his cheek and he'd been bleeding around his tongue the whole time he and Kilyan and Lea were being whipped. God, he had been scared out of his wits of Kel.

But after he became Kel's son-in-law, Keeno started to see the softer side of Zalia's father, the affectionate, friendly, and caring side that Kel had always kept hidden so well when Keeno was a student warrior under him. That day at his wedding -- he would never forget that golden day when Kel took him aside, and after making him solemnly swear to love and protect Zalia, he had taken Keeno into his arms, hugged him, and kissed him on the cheek. "Welcome to the family, my son," Kel had said -- so proudly, so warmly! And Keeno had been flabbergasted: he'd never imagined that such a hard warrior as Kel could have hugged or kissed another male. Seeing Kel with Zaldon now, it wasn't such a shock. But walking at Kel's side that breezy afternoon, Keeno felt his old fear of Kel resurfacing. Because he knew: whatever harsh words were on the brink, Kel had every right to say them. Keeno had all but sent his granddaughter headfirst into peril, after all.

"Have you been thinking?" Kel asked presently. His spear was on his shoulder and the green eyes gazed straight ahead.

"Too much," Keeno admitted. "I could barely get to sleep. And when I did . . ." Keeno stopped himself. Only sissies told other males about their nightmares. Only sissies had them. At least, that was the way he felt. He'd suffered horrible nightmares the day before about his little Enya -- dead, dying, raped -- and he closed his eyes tight against the images that rose in his mind to taunt him. He swallowed miserably and was warmed (though a little embarrassed) to feel Kel's consoling paw on his shoulder. When he opened his eyes again, Kel was gazing at him with concern.

"My understanding," Kel said, looking away again. "It runs deeper than you may think, my son."

Keeno didn't need to ask what Kel meant: he'd been there ten years ago when Kel was finally united with Zaldon. He had hoped that the two could be together. He'd felt sorry for them that all the world, it seemed, was keeping them apart. He had even put himself in their place: what if other wolves said he couldn't have Zalia? He didn't want to think of it.

"I understand that she loves Yuri," Keeno admitted. "But . . . I don't want her to die." The last word was almost a sob and Keeno was ashamed of himself when a sudden rise of tears blinded him. He saw out of the corner of his eye that Kel was watching him with sympathy, and suddenly angry at himself, he wiped his tears away with quick jerks of the back of his paw.

"You remind me of my father," Kel said, a fond smile in his eyes. "His name was Gurwin. Your father really looked up to my father. Yzlo adored Gurwin. Wanted to be just like him: a strong, serious, rigidly pussy-loving male who took the customs and traditions serious to a fault. Sometimes I thought that if the elders told my father to rape a tree hole, he would have."

Still jerkily wiping at his tears, Keeno laughed. "So that's why my dad's so strict: he was trying to be like your dad."

Kel nodded. "And that first time I saw you playing with Kilyan, I knew you'd probably be much the same. Though you always were a bit lax on the rules, Keeno. And arrogant."

Keeno sniffed and laughed again. It was true: he'd always been such a cocky young wolf, and when Kilyan showed him up during their training sessions, it was the delight of everyone to see Keeno get his bubble burst. But Keeno always took it well, and everyone loved him all the more for it.

"I was right about you," Kel went on. "You see, my father did much to me what you're doing to Enya: he convinced me that who and what I am, that it was wrong. But he didn't do it because he hated me. He did it because he loved me. He didn't want to see me despised by the world because of whichever sex I chose to love. He whipped me until I was too scared to even look at another male. He whipped the tail chaser out of me. Or he thought he did." Kel gave a bitter laugh, and Keeno listened intent and miserable, his ears pricked forward.

"My father whipped me because he was afraid for me, afraid that I might be stoned because of my feelings toward other males. But it was the wrong thing to do. Repressing my desires only made me want other males even more. I'm sure Enya felt the same way, having to hide her feelings for Yuri all these years. And knowing that she inherited not only your short temper but your arrogance, Keeno, I'm not at all surprised that she finally decided not to take it any longer."

"Yeah, we both lost our tempers," Keeno wearily admitted. "Zalia warned me not to and I tried -- but when Enya threatened to run away, I -- I'd never been so scared for her."

"Enya would be well taken care of in the sun village, Keeno. Yuri is soon to be a fully-fledged sorceress. She could bring Enya home to visit or bring you to visit her. Enya living so far away . . . it doesn't have to be that bad."

"You're right, sir. But I . . . it's so hard, letting her go."

"I understand, Keeno. I felt the same way the day I trusted Zalia to you. But learning when to let go -- it was the greatest act of love I have ever given my daughter."

Keeno looked down as the truth of Kel's words hit him, not knowing what to say. Kel smiled and clapped Keeno fondly on the shoulder, then moved ahead to walk behind Zaldon.

When night was giving away to dawn, Kel and Zaldon found themselves on watch together again. They sat around the fire, watching fondly as the younger wolves slept and smiling at each other every now and then. Zaldon idly snapped a twig and threw it in the flames, then placed a heavy arm around Kel's shoulders.

"So you had your talk with Keeno already?"

"You know," answered Kel thoughtfully, "I don't think Keeno really needed to talk to me. I think he's already starting to see where he was wrong."

"That's good," answered Zaldon gladly. "Now if we can just find little Enya before anything happens to her and Theo. . . ."

"Zaldon?" said Kel after a pause.

"Hmm?"

"Tell me about the Secret Valley," he begged anxiously. "Is Enya safe there? Or is it a terrible place?"

"No one knows for sure, Kel," Zaldon answered apologetically. "There are many different stories of nymphs guiding travelers to safety and at the same time robbing them blind. Nymphs, by legend, are contrary creatures, magical wolves, whose greatest desire is instant gratification. They know nothing of the deeper emotions we mortals do: they know nothing of real love or fear or hatred. They live in a world where every nymph is practically the same , where there are no differences to loath and suspect. They fear nothing because they are magical and eternal. And they do not feel love. They are as cold as insects mutely mating, to put it crudely.

"But stories of nymphs physically harming mortal wolves . . . I've never heard one. Their desires aren't as primitive as taking mortal life. No, they're far too curious about us for that. If anything, they are known for giving eternal life to those wolves they find most appealing. I'd say that's about the worst they'll do to Enya and Theo."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Kel said, feeling slightly relieved.

Zaldon shook his head. "Eternal life, like everything else, comes with a cost."

Kel waited, a sense of dread washing over him.

"If she stays with the nymphs for too long, Enya will lose her sense of self. She will become a blank, emotionless creature who, like the nymphs, can only mimic true emotions. She'll forget everyone she ever knew and loved. She won't even remember her name: the nymphs will give her a new name. And even if we one day found her, we would no longer recognize her: she will have taken on their form."

"How do the nymphs look?" Kel asked, not sure he wanted to know.

"They are white wolves who glow like stars. Their eyes are pale and empty, and they are known to possess incredible beauty. When they speak, it's as if three wolves are speaking at once. And making love to one is said to be the greatest pleasure a mortal can know."

Kel was silent, imagining a nymph's echoing moans as it was fucked. Sex was good. Sex was great. But sex wasn't everything. And the only thing nymphs seemed to really feel and understand . . . was sex. It sounded like a dismally empty existence to Kel. He bit his lip, suddenly more afraid for Enya and Theo than ever.

Zaldon squeezed Kel in his arm and kissed his head. "We'll find them, Kel! Unless you've forgotten, I'm one of the most powerful sorcerers in my village now."

"And the most powerful in other arenas as well," Kel answered playfully.

Zaldon chuckled. "Here, Kel," he said softly, and took Kel's paw in his large one. "Close your eyes. I want to show you something. Something . . . special."

Kel did as Zaldon asked and shivered when he felt a curious tingling in his body. After a short pause, he heard the rush of water and felt the distinct cool chill of it on the breeze as the wind ruffled his fur. He heard birds singing against the crashing flow of what was undeniably the waterfall, and could hear the trees rustling in the wind. He smelled Zaldon, felt Zaldon's warm body pressed against his own, and opening his eyes, he realized that he was standing under the waterfall and that Zaldon was standing behind him, holding him, breathing against his mane. It was a bright sunny day, but the northern wood was shadowy under the close canopy of trees, and feeling Zaldon squeeze him tightly, Kel had never felt so safe and so warm and so happy -- and so strong. He raised his paws and flexed them, silently marveling that the tiny gray flecks that had been appearing in his fur were gone and his paws -- they were as solid and strong as they had been when he was a young wolf.

Kel twisted around to look at Zaldon and froze: Zaldon was as tall and strapping as ever, his thick neck flexing with muscles, his broad shoulders and chest nicely sculpted -- but there was not a soft thing about Zaldon now. His entire body was tight with muscles, his hard buttocks were high, his belly was firm and rippling, and the hard muscles of his thighs flexed with his slightest movement. His long white mane lifted on a sudden breeze, and he smiled down at Kel with twinkling black eyes. Kel gazed up at him, spellbound. It was the boy Zaldon, the young male he used to know.

Zaldon chuckled at the wide-eyed look on Kel's face, so youthful a look, so innocent those green eyes. He remembered seeing that look on Kel's face any number of times when they were pups on the verge of the mating season. Kel had been so innocent then, so soft and sweet around the lips and the eyes. And there was that look again. Zaldon smiled and lovingly stroked Kel's long black mane behind his ear, "Come here, beautiful." He leaned down, and with the tenderest look in his eyes, he kissed Kel on the lips with a warmth, with a power that made Kel shiver happily and yield.

They pulled back to look at each other and smiled. Holding paws, they waded together through the shallows, through the breeze, through a sudden spray of butterflies, until they were down in the grass on the bank. It had been a long time since Zaldon had felt able to do it, but he put Kel's legs on his shoulders and slowly sank himself in. Kel closed his eyes and groaned to have Zaldon filling him so hot and thick, so powerful and intruding, just as he remembered. His own cock was standing upright against his rippling belly, and he moaned again when Zaldon started to stroke him as he was slowly and deeply fucking him.

"I love you, Zaldon," Kel whispered helplessly, his brows knitted in his ecstasy, his mouth open with his moans. "I . . . I never knew I could feel this way, but I do."

Zaldon smiled with hooded eyes at his lover. "Say it again, Kel," he whispered, and pricked his ears forward as if he was savoring Kel's voice.

Kel smiled. "I love you! More than life itself, I love you!"

Zaldon sighed happily, and leaning down close to Kel, his tongue filled his mouth. They kissed. And it was warm, and it was wet, and it was true. And as Zaldon pressed himself deeply inside, as Zaldon smiled on Kel's gasping and moaning, as he watched with delight Kel's black tresses fall in his eyes, Kel's cock flinch and spurt it juices -- he knew his heart would never really belong to any other male.

Though Zaldon's magic had made them appear young, behind the illusion of Glamour, Kel and Zaldon were still past the age of fifty and slowly going to seed: they still got tired after doing it one time, and were well past the point when one time was more than enough to make them happy. They fell asleep in each other's arms.

When Kel awoke some time later, it was to find Zaldon smiling down at him. He was wrapped in Zaldon's arm and his head was on Zaldon's chest. They were in the cavern behind the waterfall. His lover leaned down and kissed him happily on the cheek.

Kel laughed at this wet affection. "But, Zaldon . . . is this real?" he asked, and Zaldon smiled to hear the voice of the young Kel he remembered, a voice so curious, so serious, and yet so warm. Kel's young voice was slightly higher in pitch too and hearing it was like music to Zaldon's delighted ears.

"Are we really at the waterfall? Or is this some sort of dream?"

"The thing about magic," Zaldon answered, "is that it's a little of both." He lifted his paw palm-up, and Kel watched with delight as a flower blossomed there in a sudden splash of light. Zaldon gave Kel the flower and another kiss besides, and Kel happily snuggled his head into his neck.

"But," Kel realized after another pause, "no one's watching the camp --"

"We're still in the camp, Kel," Zaldon chuckled. "We're not really at the waterfall, we're not really sixteen, and you're not really holding a flower."

Kel looked at the flower that Zaldon had given him, bewildered. "Then what is it?"

Zaldon lifted Kel's chin, "A piece of my heart. Here, it's yours. It's always been yours. Take it!" He pressed the flower against Kel's chest until it disappeared in another splash of white light, and Kel felt a curious warmth in his heart.

"Zaldon!" he cried playfully. "What have you done to me!"

Zaldon rested back, putting one arm behind his head and smiling such a mysterious smile that Kel sat up and stared at him.

"Zaldon!" Kel laughed, poking his lover in the chest.

"I gave you some of my memories," Zaldon admitted, his white cheeks blushing a little. "So you can see how much I love you. How much . . . I've always loved you."

"Say it again," Kel whispered, placing his paw over Zaldon's. "That last part."

Zaldon smiled at the earnest expression on Kel's face. Young Kel was so cute: that thick black mane falling in strands over his widely eager expression, those glowing green eyes, the soft shine of his fur. Kel's fur had always kept its youthful softness (a softness which was only common in pups and females), but as they continued aging, Zaldon reflected that Kel's fur was becoming thinner and rougher in texture. He caressed Kel's cheek with the back of his paw and smiled when Kel tilted his head to accept the affection. They could have been boys again, little pups who had just met. That day when Kel fell on top of him . . . God, it seemed so long ago now.

Zaldon took Kel's paw, kissed it, and answered, "I have always loved you! Always . . ." He kissed Kel again. "Always . . ." Now his kisses were traveling up Kel's arm to his neck. "Always . . ." Kel laughed when Zaldon playfully licked him under the eye. "Always!" Zaldon pinned Kel under him, and they cuddled together behind the waterfall, their laughter echoing against the cavern.