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Nothing annoyed Vavarrie more than tardiness; a quirk responsible for taking her caravan on this long neglected forest road. The jostling floor rattled her thoughts while she bustled around her house-styled coach, hoping to catch any stray thing that happened to launch from its former spot. At least the furniture was bolted to the floor.

The coach jolted violently as a wheel wobbled over some rut in the road. Vavarrie dove for her dresser in an attempt to keep the various jars atop it from spilling onto the floor. "Dammit, Zamayr! This coach isn't meant for joy riding through the woods," she bellowed over the din of the racketing wagon.

"Sorry, Ma'am," Zamayr's pre-pubescent pitched voice called back as the coach began to shutter. "The path petered off a while back, so we're just barreling through the forest now. It shouldn't be much longer; there's a clearing in the trees ahead."

"Let's hope so," she shouted despite the painful clacking of her teeth. "No one'll pay to see brain-damaged dancing girls with empty mouths."

He laughed. "I'm sure some would."

"Just drive the blasted coach."

She heard him swear, then yell to the other drivers, "Mind the crows!" A cacophony of cawing echoed Zamayr's warning, while stray black feathers fluttered around the coach's windows.

Vavarrie looked into the mirror attached to the back of her dresser, and noticed the spiked state of her fur paired by an annoyed glint in her eyes. "Let's just hope we get there in time," she said to her reflection. It would be a terrible loss should they miss Medenine's Market Day, where the coinage flew freely. She had to be ready with her dancing girls to reap in their share of the town's vast wealth.

The coach gave a few more hiccups before it settled onto even road, and Vavarrie sighed at the chance to release her dresser.

She straightened her layered skirts, each a variety of shades in purple, green, and red that twirled about her amber-furred legs like showers of petals. A sashay of her hips resulted in a parting of the fabric strips that revealed the warm brown spots that flecked her thighs and calves.

Throughout the ritual of dressing, Vavarrie kept her thoughts neutral. The focus on her next task, not the building avidity that came with preforming, or the flush of returning to the arms of one of her dearest lovers. There was too much at stake to waist time pining, so she might as well put all that energy to good use.

Tying the black-ochre cincher that hung loose around her middle forced the skirts to billow out, and gave the impression of wider hips than she possessed. The effect was replicated in her loose, cream shaded shirts, so that her breasts appeared barely contained beneath the low collar. A waist cincher could really do magic for any female.

Her bristled fur began to relax once she sat on a stool next to her dresser. With the help of the oval mirror, she pulled the tight spirals of her dark sepia hair into a simple style. To this she added a variety of ribbons, chimes, and fanciful clips. It all secured in place thanks to helpful tricks her genet family line had picked up throughout their years of dancing tours.

She looked toward the driver's compartment and shouted, "How much further?"

"Not much, Ma'am. I sent the building team ahead of us, so we should arrive to a set stage."

A bit of anxiety emptied from her in a flush that left her body numb. "I'd jump through this coach and kiss you, if I didn't know you'd hate it." She opened a drawer and pulled out a set of golden bracelets and anklets. Vavarrie had just a moment to think of the lover who gave them to her before a retort called her back to the present.

Zamayr's tone dripped with mock affront. "Just because I like the fellas doesn't mean I'd snub a kiss from a pretty, spotted maid."

"A coat is only fur, sweetie." She grinned and murmured, "You narcissistic behemoth."

"I heard that."

"Good, maybe it'll spark some sense into that canine head of yours, and you'll stop picking partners based on frivolous qualities."

"Never! I'm too persistent to give up now." Vavarrie could hear the smile on his face.

After she attached a gilded band of dangling clackers to each appendage, she jangled her way to the window leaving the sound of rain on wind chimes in her wake. She pulled a cord that hung by the open frame, and a musical series of toots sounded overhead - a signal to the following coaches that their destination was soon upon them.

Thankfully many of the girls - primarily feline - shared living quarters, so most of their coaches should be through the woods by now.

When they neared the gates of Medenine, the smells of Market Day filled her coach. It only served to create a nervous twitter in Vavarrie's stomach. A sensation that quickly developed into a large lump by the time the convoy of coaches dragged beyond the gargantuan walls and they'd entered the city.

The coaches dragged through the labyrinth streets. Occasionally the smooth-stone roads opened up to large courtyards, but none of them were their destination. Deep within the twist of buildings waited the largest open area in Medenine - a prize spot that could only have been snared by Zamayr's early orders.

After each yard passed, anxious jitters pricked at Vavarrie. No matter how old she got or how many times she went on stage, she still got nervous before a show. 'The sign of a good performer,' her mother had always said. 'It'll keep you from getting cocky, too.'

Vavarrie wasn't sure about that last part; but she was content to swallow around the lump that had risen to her throat, and took some relief from the knowledge that soon the performance would pass, and she'd be warm in her lover's embrace.

Regardless of the reassuring thoughts, nothing was strong enough to quell her unsettled state. She did her best, but there was too much to fret over - too much that could go wrong.

Once her coach slowed to a stop, she stepped out onto the little porch that - along with the windows and angle of the roof - gave the back end of her coach the look of a house. She watched the train of house-styled coaches while hulking gaur oxen dug their hooves into the stone streets, halting the pull.

The only clue to Vavarrie's discomfort was the nervous twitch of her brown-stripped, amber-colored tail as she stepped off her porch.

The dancers rushed outside while Vavarrie took care in inspecting the structure where they'd all perform. Her work hands were more than competent, but the process helped calm her - if only slightly. "No worries ladies," she returned to her girls as composed as she could pretend, "it seems we've made it in time."

A look of relief crossed each face, and Vavarrie took the moment to count dancers. Nine felines, a golden jackal, fennec fox, and their newest addition - a rather exotic fruit bat - who was more a singer than a dancer. "Seems we've all made it in one piece - despite the rather interesting journey."

"Barely," a fluffy Manul cat named Cliohna said, her droopy markings only furthering her agitation. "Y'should see our coach. It's like a windstorm went off'n there. My wheels don't take ta bumps like they used ta."

"I wouldn't fret too much." Vavarrie patted Cliohna's shoulder, then cast a glace about her troupe. "Medenine is a generous enough city, and our dancing can woo the crowd better here than any other place. All their restrictive feline breeding has left them with a taste for the exotic." A sly grin quirked the corners of her lips. "So let's show them what they're missing."

Each girl returned her playful smile, and nodded their enthusiasm in short, quick bobs. Excited by the prospects, they hurried to ready themselves for the first act.

Vavarrie turned her attention to the men of her troupe. Zamayr - just like a worthy second in command should - had already sent the male crew into action unloading coaches and setting up equipment. Now he attended the huge gaur oxen that lugged their colorfully adorned coaches.

Vavarrie walked behind Zamayr's muscled hyena frame, and gave the tree of a beast as big of a hug as she could manage. "You did good, my spotted galoot."

"Despite my forest joy ride?" Zamayr turned and picked her up to return her hug.

"Every beast's allowed some leeway from time to time," she said once he put her down. She gave his paw a thankful squeeze, before she headed toward the stage.

A small crowd had gathered before Vavarrie ascended the stage's steps, and the girls were arranged according to who was dancing or playing instruments for the first act.

The music began moderate, yet lively; the movements a warm up for both the dancers and the crowd. Along the edge of the stage a row of box-like guards, many who doubled as drivers, separated the gathering audience from the spectacle.

Once the notes came faster, the steps flew like lightning, and their skirts swirled high in the air. Their efforts elicited hoots and hollers from the male crowd, that only grew with each girl who was tossed across the stage.

Lengths of furred thighs were clearly seen as the dancers flew from open arm to open arm. Soon a frenzy of calls and coins barraged the stage, while the girls were tossed, tumbled, and launched until they appeared to never touch the ground.

But with one bellowed call, it all came to an abrupt end, forcing the music to stall on off keys, and left a few of the dancers stumbling and dizzy.

"Harlots!" the voice sounded from among the crowd.

Vavarrie, who had been in the midst of an elaborate tumble, came up sudden and stiff as she looked beyond the crowd for where the call came. Beasts turned while Vavarrie scanned beyond them, until her sights caught the owner of the voice - sending a wave of numbness through her.

A stunning example of generations of caracal elite breeding stood eminent against the crowd. His form sleek and trained behind the ultramarine uniform of the Medenine guard, and decorated with the golden tags of a general. His jet black hair created stark contrast against his creamy golden fur, and even from this distance she was struck by his moon-colored eyes.

He was accompanied by a few of his fellow guardsmen who stood behind him. "Sirens and thieves!" he called out again.

Vavarrie's blood rose behind the fur of her cheeks, and she shouted back, "We do only honest work here, Ammbroas. Us entertainers have the sanction of the High King to do business today." She put her paws on her hips and lashed her tail in anger. "Go back to your barracks to crow at your men, and leave those of us who wish to enjoy Market Day be."

"We take to the streets to keep law and peace in Medenine and - "

"And we keep it well, Ammbroas. While you are insistent on disturbing our audience, and making a mockery of your station by harassing dancing girls."

Ammbroas laid back his ears, unveiling his displeasure; though, that was the only apparent sign of it. "You missed your chance to drain the pockets of the Medenites. If you wanted to do business here, you should have shown up on time."

A whimsical laugh trickled from Vavarrie. She held a paw across her muzzle to hide her surprise in her own boldness. "Who do you think was here setting up my stage? My oxen can't drag this fully constructed platform around."

She might just give Zamayr that kiss. If he hadn't sent workers ahead, this argument might have been more complicated. "Besides," Vavarrie added, "there are no restraints for entertainers on Market Day." She glared at him, knowing full well he knew she spoke the truth.

The general returned her glare from his distant post. "Just keep on your guard, wench," he called out. A toss of his paw sent his men pivoting in place and out of the square. "All it takes is one slip up, and you'll be under my control." An eerie smile lined his lips and spread across his face.

Vavarrie felt her hackles prickle, an annoying effect that caused a subtle ruffle to spread through her fur. Luckily Ammbroas was far enough away that her discomfort was a secret between her and her girls.

With no more than a blink, General Ammbroas turned and followed his men.

Silence lingered in the air, for only a second, before murmured whispers swept the crowd. It grew to a dull roar as even more beasts began to gather in hopes of snagging some tidbit of Market Day gossip.

The dancers were in no less of a tizzy, and the musicians were lost in their own state of wagging tongues, while the stage hands below looked up toward Vavarrie for direction.

That knocked her into action, and with a swift flick of her tail she rushed to the musicians and grabbed an intricate wooden horn. She turned back toward the audience and gave a tightlipped blow - the sound loud as it resonated across the square and against the nearby buildings. All within the courtyard went into quick silence as Vavarrie put the horn down to shout at the now enormous crowd.

"Come! Let's not have this spoil the festivities. This is Market Day, enjoy the wares of Medenine. Eat, drink and play!" she bellowed as she threw up her paws and Azalee, the fruit bat, launched across the stage into the crowd. She opened her wings and soared above the entire expanse of those gathered, then returned to the stage.

The beasts below gave out an uproarious cry and the girls - who had been covertly slinking back into position since Vavarrie had picked up the horn - began their dance again. The music, now faster than before, called across the square so crowded that the food vendors could only make their rounds of its outskirts.

*~*

As the day progressed, the stage became littered with enough currency that the entertaining ended early, allowing the girls to go out and enjoy the evening's festivities. Vavarrie was looking forward at the chance to slip away from her troupe and seek her lover's requested rendezvous.

The warm autumn air that lingered through dusk, would remain long into twilight - it boded well for a pleasant end to Medenine's Market Day. Overall it had been prosperous, regardless of General Ammbroas' minor disturbance, which in the end had proved more profitable than anyone could have guessed. It was a grand day indeed when the money came rolling in by droves.

Vavarrie soon grew tired of the vendors, and edged toward the back of the courtyard. Once enveloped by towering buildings, her mind began to stray. It was strange for her to be stuck within this town, forever trapped behind the towering walls and buildings. Her entire life had been spent with the dancer coaches under the openness of the sky.

She stretched out a paw, and laid her pads against the cold stone of the building next to her. The lifelessness of the mortared rock made her bones ache with a shock, that snapped her paw back to the warmth and life of her body. Unnerved, she walked more in the center of the road. She would be glad when she could return to the beauty of the trees and the full open sky above; back to the freedom of life amongst her troupe of dancing girls.

After a while of walking, the sounds and smells of the market became faint. Vavarrie looked about her, and in a flutter of panic she realized that she had never been through this part of the city. She mentally berated herself for her foolish wanderings. But the lure of her waiting lover calmed her enough to set her sights on finding her way back to something familiar.

On her tiptoes, she attempted to look between the buildings for signs of lights leading to the market. She paused and strained her ears for any familiar sound.

She scurried forward and repeated the position, but all she heard was silence. Her heart raced along with her footpaws, and she tried again - nothing but stoic quiet amid the looming architecture. She continued, her mind frantic, until she began to hear the festival's reassuring hum of life.

With a sigh of relief, she followed the gentle buzz of sound; until she rounded a corner, and a shadow blocked her path.

"You seem distressed," the voice called, and Vavarrie's heart skipped a beat.

"What do you want, Ammbroas," she crossed her arms - though still taking a step backwards. "Have you stooped to stalking me?"

Ammbroas stepped forward into the light and flashed another of his eerie smiles. "I didn't need to, I could hear you a league away."

Vavarrie uncrossed her arms and the sound of rain on wind-chimes followed her movements - she'd become so used to the trickle of notes that they'd gone unnoticed. She took another tentative step back, keeping her eyes locked on the general. "What do you want?"

Ammbroas licked his lips as he seized her arm and pulled her to him. "You know exactly what I want." He grabbed her other arm, holding her still.

Although Vavarrie pushed against his grip, she was powerless against the muscled general. She stared upward, too frozen to do anything beyond gaze into his hypnotizing, moon-like eyes.

He descended with her into the shadows, where he rammed her against the side of a storied house. He smiled, and the light from the street beyond glinted off his pointed teeth. "I told you, you'd be mine." He bent down and pressed himself against her, until his soft nosepad pressed to hers.

That simple touch ended their game, and Vavarrie let the last of her anxiety fade while Ammbroas' grip softened into an embrace. "You said I'd be in your control," she murmured.

Ammbroas' chest rumbled with contentment, while he pawed at the decorations in her hair. "What?"

"You said I'd be in your control, not that I'd be yours."

He pulled back and sheepishly ran his paw through his hair, "Did I really?" He laughed; the sound was laced with a jolly purr. "Did I sound irate at you or what?" Ammbroas released her arms only to wrap his around her, and pulled her into a deep kiss.

She trailed her paws around his neck as she allowed his lips to part hers.

When he ended the kiss enough to snatch a breath, he looked down at her and sighed. "I've wanted to do that for . . . for far too long. The smell of you - the taste. It's all so intoxicating."

Vavarrie smiled, her paws around his neck, so she could fiddle with his hair. "It's all for you, my love."

He kissed her again; his need evident by the intensity of it. Yet he held her against him with such tenderness as his paws trailed her curves, that she molded into his embrace.

The more Ammbroas kissed her, the more venturesome his paws became, until they had found their way under her skirts. He slid his paw atop her curls, and teased her sex with the velvet touch of his pawpads. She gasped a moan at the shock of softness while he spread her nether lips, and slipped a digit into her moist folds.

He rubbed her juices over her sex, pausing his digit-pad against her clit. Vavarrie squealed as her body tensed from the feel of his silken pad against her sensitive nub. Back and forth his finger moved against her, then in slow teasing circles. Her body shook, and she gripped Ammbroas' uniform collar. His finger just flicked faster.

It was too much, but she wanted more; and Ammbroas didn't stop. He kept his soft digit-pad in sensual swirls around her clit, occasionally dipping into her depths to add her wetness to his touch.

Her vision tunneled. The only things she could sense in the darkness was the smell of Ammbroas' musky fur, with his warm body pressing her against the cold building - and her clit - as a charge built around her.

She felt weak, and was glad Ammbroas held her. He moved her head into a kiss, only to increase his finger's attention. Vavarrie moaned into his mouth as her climax mounted. His whiskers brushed against hers, creating a flood of electric sensations that traveled through her face, and down to join her growing climax.

A tight scream slipped from her lips as every sensation exploded in pleasure. She ripped her mouth from his, and bit her lip to keep the sound at bay. Ammbroas turned his attention to her neck as his finger slowed, extending her climax until she shuddered to a stop in his arms.

Only a moment was given before his manhood was free of his pants, and his hard length slid inside her. Vavarrie moaned as his penis filled her, though it wasn't until Ammbroas had scooped her legs into his arms that she was in a position to accept him fully.

He pulled out, only to reenter her, and slid his shaft to the hilt. Her muscles flexed around him, craving more, so he thrust again, building a rhythm punctuated by soft grunts.

Vavarrie moaned with each buck of his swollen cock into her. "More," she exhaled the words into his ear - and he pumped harder. Over and over, he slid his thick penis into her; forcing a soft cry past her lips, as a second orgasm began to thunder through her.

"Don't stop," she whispered a squeal into his fur, "I'm so close."

Ammbroas thrust harder, and she gripped the back of his uniform with her teeth, repressing the scream that threatened to slip from her.

He spoke through a series of thrusts. "I - love you."

A weak cry was all that escaped her as she shuddered in the throes of climax. "I love you, too." Her voice echoed in her head despite the narrowing of her senses. When her vision sparked, a wave of relaxation coursed through her, and her body throbbed from the release.

Ammbroas let out a sharp caracal screech as he thrust a final time. His cock throbbed inside her as it unloaded his sticky seed. He shuddered, and gripped her tight, only jerking his hips a few times, as a subtle purr coursed through his chest and to her ears.

She held him against her, and she felt his tensed muscles relax. In that moment of calm, the sounds of the festival reached her ears. A small flash of panic forced her to whisper, "Love, mind your voice. We'll never get anyone to believe you hate me if your screams reveal us together."

After a heavy sigh he said, "We could say I brutalized you. I get accused of that all the time, it'll just add to my reputation."

She quirked her eyebrows at him. "I don't think I'd care to settle for a beast who was rumored to have abused me. That would sully my ethics."

Ammbroas kissed her, gripping the back of her head while he pulsed his cock within her. The swell against her walls sent bursts of pleasure through her, and she moaned; the sound vibrated through her, until she too began to purr.

When he slipped from her, a part of her was saddened that it had ended. He nuzzled her as he lowered her legs, and she returned to standing. She slipped her arms beneath his uniform jacket, and held him close.

"You know, that little row you caused will fill our coffers for longer than I'd have ever hoped." Vavarrie trailed her tail against his, while her paws stroked his slick, black hair.

"We do stir up quite a crowd in Medenine." He brought her face to his, and rubbed noses with her. "You know I don't think you a harlot, or any of the things I said."

Vavarrie giggled. "I know you as well as one knows their own soul. It's all a game to me." She looked at him with a coy smile. "A girl likes to cause a little scene wherever she goes. And as a dancer, to have a row with the local law - more over the general - keeps the townsfolk's tongues gabbing long after I've gone. It ensures that the crowds are all the larger the next time around."

"If it helps you, Love, and brings you closer to my home and bed." Ammbroas gripped both swells of her buttocks, and pulled her closer.

"You could never tie a dancer down, My Darling." She kissed him quick and continued, "It would be the same as if you caged a songbird, its tune is born in freedom. My dancing is no different. I fear I would wither in this stone cage you call a city."

"That's just because you're young, but one day, when your feet don't fly as swift, maybe you'll decide to leave your troupe as your mother did. Perhaps you could find solace with a mad war general." He smiled with the hopeful face of a male in love.

"Maybe, but I fear only time will tell in the end."

"I know." Ammbroas released her bottom to cup her maw. He caressed his thumb along her cheek, and the glint from the lantern light flecked in his love-filled eyes. "I can wait as long as it takes. I'll spend my efforts in convincing you that you'd be happiest with me - of all your lovers - in your retirement."

"That is a ways off still." Hoping to steer the conversation in a new direction, Vavarrie flashed him a coy grin. "But, I'm sure I can give you something to remember me by." She kissed him, swift and fierce, then trailed down his frame onto her knees.

Vavarrie looked upward at the general, his face lined with excitement and lust. Her attention returned to his package, swollen again, and she grinned in triumph.

Eager, but with tenderness, she wrapped her paws around Ammbroas' shaft and took his entire length into her mouth, enveloping him in wet warmth. She swirled her tongue around his shaft, allowing only soft flesh to touch him; and moaned with pleasure as she glanced a peek at his face. His breath came slow and heavy, while he watched her beneath partially closed lids.

She kept her head moving in a steady bob. Her tongue every now and then trailed after her mouth's movements, and her paws twisted across his shaft. He gripped her hair so tight that she was sure he'd dislodged some of the barrettes there.

Up and down, she trailed her mouth against his thick cock. Her paws gripped him, each stroke urging signs of come, until her attentions were rewarded with a ripple beneath the shaft, and the first spurt of come filled her mouth.

Ammbroas grunted a relief-filled exhale, and sighed as Vavarrie sucked his come down. He gasped when she rubbed his sack, in her hopes to drain the last of him.

Intent on her goal, she let his member shudder and pulse within the heat of her mouth. Finished, she rose and dabbed at the corners of her lips. Ammbroas' eyes were dazed and out of focus, but still he wrapped his arms around her and held her to him.

"Are you sure you can't stay with me?" He whispered into her hair.

Vavarrie nuzzled his neck and kissed his cheek. "I have a troupe of dancers waiting for me, not to mention the stage hands and my oxen all depending on my experience and direction. Now is not the time my love, but one day, perhaps I shall return here. But I could never live within the walls of this city."

Ammbroas pulled back and kissed her deeply. While their tongues explored the others mouth, they held onto one another for an eternity that lasted only a few short seconds. When they split from their entwined state, they rubbed noses a last time and smiled with faces that mirrored the other's.

"I should be going soon." Vavarrie stepped backward, so that only their paws clutched. "I wouldn't want anyone to worry. You did cause quite a stir today, and they might think you've captured me or some such thing."

"Since you mentioned it." Ammbroas kissed her paws then resumed, "When you return, would you not make me sound like an utter fool in front of my men the next time we cause a scene? I'll have to be exceptionally overbearing with them for a while just to build my reputation back up again."

"Well next time don't interrupt during one of the fastest and hardest dances, when over half my girls - including me - are flying through the air."

Ammbroas shoulders slumped, "I did do that, didn't I? I suppose I deserved as much then, but it just proves how fabulous you are. You were so collected you had my tail twitching."

"Did I?" She reached around to run a paw over his tail. "It's still no excuse to do it."

"You know you like a challenge," Ammbroas said with a cocky grin on his face.

"You're just as bad." She wrapped her arms around the general and hugged him to her, while she laid her head atop his chest.

Until she could hear the gentle thrum of his heart, she held him with her arms clasped as tight as she could bear, prolonging their final embrace. "I should go," she repeated. It took everything in her to release him, but she did, and slid from the warmth of his touch back to the cold of the city.

Ammbroas held tight to her paw, and Vavarrie stared back at her lover. "You will return for the next festival." His tone told her that it wasn't a question; he needed to know she would return.

"I will. Medenine is a city I'll never pass on visiting."

"Then I'll be here, ready to cause any scene you wish of me." He kissed her paw one final time before he released her.

Hesitation slowed her departure as Vavarrie turned from Ammbroas.

"It does me good to see you with the gifts I gave you," he said.

She paused, but didn't turn to face him.

"I hear the sound of you in my dreams." His voice cracked, but it was faint - she wouldn't have noticed had she faced him.

Vavarrie touched the bracelets on each wrist and smiled as she called back to him, "They are a treasure to me."

"A treasure for my own."

"I hope you dream well." She hoped her voice sounded more composed than she felt. "And we shall spend our nights together in sleep."

"If only I could sleep forever, and see your face by my side always." Ammbroas voice was low, almost a mutter of a secret he wanted to keep, but said aloud.

For a fleeting moment she could almost feel him reach out to her, yet still they remained apart.

"Till our next meeting."

"Take care." My love. Her thoughts echoed in her head as Vavarrie began to walk away, and only when she rounded the corner did she not feel Ammbroas' eyes at her back.

She followed the final sounds of Market Day until she was back to the largest courtyard. She had gotten lost enough times to pick her way backwards, and soon she was rewarded with the warm lights of her caravans. A few of her girls and the stage hands were about, some with strained looks on their faces.

Vavarrie headed toward them, and when Zamayr caught sight of her, he hurried to meet her. He took up her paws - worry in every line of his face - as he spoke in his singsong voice, "You look as if you've been in a scuffle. General Ammbroas did you no harm did he?"

"None whatsoever," she replied with a smile she hoped would calm her friend. "He did us a great service today. You saw what we raked off the stage - that's not even counting what was pulled from the audience. He's asked nothing of me that I felt was too great to give." Vavarrie patted Zamayr's spotted paws and added, "I'd suppose we may see another girl or two with their own carriage before long."

"Well I have plenty of free paws to be sure, so I don't suppose there'll be any problem."

"Nor do I." Vavarrie looked upwards at the crisp autumn sky, and she twitched her whiskers a couple of times before she continued. "I suppose we should head out, we can settle the caravan up the road a ways. Albora has their Ocean Festival in a few weeks, we could head in that direction. No sense in skipping a profitable festival simply because of one good performance."

"An excellent performance. The tongue lashing you gave General Ammbroas had the streets buzzing for hours. You have no idea how many folk managed to interrogate me." He gave a goofy, self-important grin and added, "I guess my size isn't much of an intimidation."

Vavarrie eyed Zamayr with a quirked brow, "It is until you open your mouth. A voice trapped in prepubescence, I swear."

"If only you had heard me when I was a pup."

Vavarrie laughed. "I'm sure it was quite a sound."

Zamayr smiled and led her to her coach's door. She climbed the stairs to her little porch, and turned to give a final look at the emptying square.

After a moment of silence Zamayr shook Vavarrie from her musings. "Are you okay, Ma'am? You seem unwell."

"I'll be fine, dearling." Vavarrie blinked herself into the present. "I simply wish to see this stone fortress behind us, and to be where only greenery towers above us, and the good earth is underpaw."

"Your wish is my command, my lady." Zamayr headed toward the driver's compartment, while Vavarrie stepped inside her traveling house, closing the door behind her.

Back in the solitary of her room, Vavarrie moved to sit atop the colorful blankets of her bed, and looked out her window. With her tail stretched across her lap, she trailed her paw over it. The tip twitched from the fervor of her mind's state while she traced the familiar stripes of her tail's coat.

She let out a heavy sigh, but shed no tear. Never in all her life had she shed tears for a lover living - and she would not begin now.

After a grunt from the oxen the coach gave a lurch, and she let its pull take her down onto her bed where she stared upwards at the decorated rafters. She could sleep if she wanted; Zamayr and the other males could take care of camp when they reached a suitable site.

Although she didn't think it would, sleep did take her, aided by the gentle rumble of the coach. Soon she was whisked away into dreams filled with fond embraces and tender kisses.