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The forest agreed with Nolan more than the city. Yldon had been a crowded place, loud, impertinent and shameless; at once intimate and impersonal, invasive yet distant. Nolan was ignorant of the city, despite living in sight of it his entire life. It's winding, undulating, strangely damp streets roved under precarious balconies and swarmed with people, each of whom seemed to want something from him; the street traders wanted a moment of his time, the gangs of rag-wearing urchins wanted his money, and the prostitutes, both female and male, who tried to lure him into alleyways or through the doors of shadowy, down-at-heel buildings wanted both. He had wandered through the maze of courtyards, crossed the market-covered bridge that spanned the river splitting the city in half, passed through shambolic, alehouse-riddled tenements where he was harangued by half-naked zealots, and headed north in the naïve belief that he was bound to find his way out if he kept going in that one direction.

After several hours of walking in circles he had stumbled upon a main thoroughfare, and by following the trade carts he had found his way to the vineyards, orchards and farms of the city's outskirts, and from there the road north. From then onwards it had been plain sailing and he had made good time. He then reverted to his former dictum; that the Kalrithian border, which he needed to cross, was to his north, and so if he followed the roads north he would arrive at his destination eventually.

Before long he was out of the farms and into the intermittent shade of the forest. Nolan walked along the side of the road, out of the way of the trader's ox-drawn wagons, peasant-lugged handcarts and the occasional well-dressed rider. He recognized the road, he had come this way before with the royal caravan, either riding in a wagon or on Hunter. In those times he had ignored his surroundings, instead focusing his mind on the upcoming tournament. On foot he found it more difficult to shut out the world around him, and since he did not yet have to worry about bandits, or planning his route, or keeping a disguise, his mind was free to go wandering. He was appreciated the tall, loosely spaced pines and their shade, the huge grey boulders that burst up through the earth, the packets of ferns, the woodcutters who had their small villages off the roadside, the birds calling to each other in the trees and the skittering of insects. He liked the butterflies most of all, with their inappropriately big wings, bright colors and clumsy fluttering style. He wondered how they were able to survive.

He walked all afternoon. The road followed the edge of a valley, a dozen miles across and many miles deep and with a wide, slow river at its winding nadir. The sun was warm and the breeze was cool. It wasn't so bad on the road.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky Nolan began to wonder where he would spend the night, and where he might find something to eat. He was no outdoorsman, he did not relish the prospect of having to sleep outside, and he didn't want to dip into his supply of preserved food until he really needed to. He thought he might call in at a farm, purchase food using the coins that were, at that moment, in a leather purse warming against his genitals, and then sleep in their barn. The idea appealed to him.

And it was while he was thinking these thoughts that he crested the brow of a hill, and was presented with a plateau that played host to a small town surrounded by farmland. The fields were odd shapes, enclosed by drystone walls. The town's structures were of brownish wood and had sharply sloping roofs. No two structures were entirely alike. There was a central avenue lined with shops that were shutting up for the day. Nolan descended the slope of the hill, following the road between two fields, and wandered onto the town's street.

"Lookin' for a place to stay?" said a rustic voice. Nolan turned and saw an old timer, an old Crow, sat on a rocking chair in front of a shop. He was smoking a pipe, thin puffs of smoke curled up from the two holes in the top of his coal-black beak. "My nephew keeps an inn, he'll have a room for yer. Keep goin', cross the bridge, on yer left. You'll see it there."

Nolan nodded his thanks. He guessed the inn's owner put the old man there to send travelers his way. He followed the street over to the far side of town, crossed a stone hump-backed bridge over a noisy white-water stream, and located the inn. It monopolized a grassy quadrant created by the intersection of the avenue and the stream, and behind the inn was a sheer cliff overlooking the deep valley. There was the roar of a waterfall from nearby.

The inn itself was tall and strange. It seemed to have once been a far smaller building, one that had been expanded sporadically throughout the years. Sharp-roofed extensions jutted up and out in all directions. There were numerous tall lead-crossed windows, no two were the same size or shape and several bulged outwards in bays. As he came closer Nolan heard crass shouting and raucous laughter, he assumed that some party was taking place. In his naivety he thought it might be someone's birth-day.

Nolan pushed his way inside, someone was blocking the door and he had to push firmly and enter sideways. The barroom was packed with people, with drinks in their hands, and all talking over one another. There were all sorts; Foxes, Wolves, Cattle, Sheep, Avians, Bears; a Rodent couple were sitting up at the bar, using their tongues to search for something insides each other's mouths; dressed variously in the costumes of peasants, laborers, farmers, low-grade artisans, merchants and trades-folk. The inn seemed to be 'the place' for evening entertainment and socializing. There was a strong smell of ale and a general humid warmth of closely-packed bodies. The beamed ceiling was low and hung with lanterns that bathed the space in a hazy yellowish light.

Nolan made a nuisance of himself barging through the crowd with his knapsack, ducking under the low beams. He approached the far end of the counter. There were five youngish women in low-cut dresses darting back and forth, filling individual orders, carrying trays out to tables or returning glass jugs and metal steins to be cleaned and reused. Also standing behind the bar was a middle-aged male Crow, he wasn't doing anything and it was for that reason more than any other that Nolan assumed he was the proprietor.

"Can I get a room for the night?" said Nolan loudly over the din, leaning in and nudging the Rat/Mouse couple (both females) who were as oblivious to him as they were to the rest of the room.

"Sure" said the Crow, and then he stated a price. "And that includes dinner; lamb stew in a red wine sauce, basil and flat-leaf parsley. You alright with meat?"

"Yes, that's fine" said Nolan.

The owner took a key from beneath the counter and handed it over. "Top floor, on your left."

"Thank you" said Nolan, then he added "can I eat in my room?"

"Yeah, come down when you want it, one of the girls here will fetch it for you."

"Alright" said Nolan. He paid upfront, using the coins he had transferred to his trouser pocket prior to his coming into the town, and went upstairs.

The stairs themselves were tight and precarious, made of creaking wood. He went up three flights, each level was laid out differently and on the top floor he was presented with a short hallway with two doors, one on either side. He tried the key on the door to his left, it opened, and he entered.

The room cramped. There was a single bed, a rough wooden table and chair, a lone window contained within an eave. The sharp slope of the roof encroached over the bed. The layout was far from square, there were coves and beams jutting in and out. One thing confused him. Underneath the window the rough floorboards that sufficed for the rest of the room were replaced by a 3x3' square of tight, smooth-varnished hardwood. Nolan went to investigate, and saw that the square sloped very slightly towards the wall, and there was a thin gap where it joined the wall under the window. Then he saw that there was a large empty pail behind a nearby beam. He understood then; it was a washbay. That was good. The room was reasonably clean, too. Altogether it was better than he had anticipated.

Nolan dumped his bag on his bed, shucked off his long, patched grey coat, pried the steel shoes from his hooves and accounted for all the small nails, and headed back out.

***

Nolan made his way back to the crowded bar area. The crowd backed onto the bottom steps of the final flight. As he descended the final flight he became aware of a woman looking up at him from the last few steps. She was a Wolf, her features were sleek and her fur was brown with black streaks. Her body was thick and curvy, her breasts were large and due to the low bodice of her flowing dress were almost entirely on display. Nolan thought nothing of her, up until the moment she addressed him.

"Hey there" she said, smiling broadly up at him, "I have a few friends who want to meet you."

"Umm, no, no thank you" said Nolan. He was immediately flustered and placed on the defensive by the sudden social interaction. He tried to get by her, to the bar, where he expected to be served his meal.

"What's the matter?" she asked, affecting a hurt expression while discretely stepping in front of him, blocking his path. She created the impression that his refusal had broken her heart. "Why don't you want to meet my friends?"

"I'm sorry," said Nolan, his face became hot and he could feel himself beginning to sweat. "I've only come down to get something to eat" he offered in an awkward attempt to appease her.

"Well you can eat with them, they won't mind!" she said, she smiled again, and she took him by the hand and started leading him into the crowded bar room. "They only want to say hello, they won't bite. Come on. It'll be fine, I promise."

"Really, I'm not interested" Nolan tried to insist, but he was ignored. He could not bring himself to physically resist the attractive Wolfwoman and so he allowed himself, very much against his wishes, to be led to the rear of the room, to a semi-secluded parlor where a gang of figures lazily sat drinking around a table. The table was covered in empty mugs and was visibly sticky with spillages. They were dressed like ruffians and had the demeanor to match.

There were five of them. A Ram, his hard white face framed by a pair of curly horns; a tough-looking Zebra whose black-white mane was oiled up and stood erect from his scalp; some kind of Lizard, lithe with dark green scales; a Tiger, sat in the corner morosely nursing a stein of ale; and, in the middle, a grey-spotted Mare. The last-mentioned was the only woman in the group, and was by some margin the largest. She wore a sleeveless vest that left bare her grey-spotted shoulders as well as her swollen biceps. There was a crease of scar on her thick black upper lip. She wore leather pants, and her coal-grey mane was loosely tied back.

"Hey! There he is! There's our guy" said the big Mare, rising up to greet him. She pushed her way out from behind the table, knocking the legs of Ram and the Lizard as she passed. "Come sit with us, don't be shy!" she said, stooping under the beams of the ceiling. She first approached the Wolf who had lured him in, muttered a quick thanks and pushed a few coins into her black-padded palm, and then she put her arm around Nolan and dragged him into the parlor while the Wolfwoman departed.

Nolan was apprehensive, very apprehensive, and yet he couldn't summon the nerve to get away from them; to say 'whatever this is, no thanks' and walk away. He lacked the advanced social skills. He never went out drinking, rarely spoke to anyone he didn't know. His first impulse was to avoid making waves, avoid conflict, and so he allowed himself to be manhandled into the parlor, pushed into the bench behind the table, and then trapped when the Mare seated herself between him and the exit.

No sooner had he sat down then they started appraising his body. "Hey chief, check out the muscles on this one" said Zebra, who was sat on Nolan's immediate left. He grabbed Nolan's arm and kneaded his bicep through the dull brown padded tunic that he had worn all day and was still wearing.

"Bet he's got some reach," said the Lizard. "Stick your arms out fella', let's have a look." Not wishing to offend them Nolan did as he was told. He stuck his arms out, locking his elbows.

"Aw would you look, he could use these things as a fuckin' skipping rope!" said the Ram approvingly.

"Show me your hands" said the Mare. She chose not to wait for him to react and grabbed his hand in hers, and pulled it in to check his palms. Nolan's hands were covered in smooth, hardened callouses from his decades of swordsmanship. "So you're a worker?"

"Uh, yeah" said Nolan. He suddenly became doubly worried. He had this mission to cross the border and hunt down a Dragon, and while news of this might have permeated the lower palace in a matter of hours if not minutes that didn't mean it had gone further. He realized very suddenly, and to great alarm, that he needed to come up with a cover story, and then he would have to stick to that cover story or else his whole quest would be placed in jeopardy.

He also realized that the Zebra to his immediate left was eyeing his belt, the black leather belt with the silver studs and the horse-head buckle, which happened to contain thirty gold coins. If these cut-throats were to learn of the gold they would, he thought, be only too happy to knife him in the ribs and take the gold from him. Keeping his rising panic as much in control as possible, he realized that he needed to get away, and as soon as possible. Bluffing them was not a sound plan.

"Listen," he said, trying to rise, "I only came down to get something to eat."

"Ah, well why didn't you say so before?" said the Mare, casually placing a strong hand on his shoulder and pushing him back down into his seat. She whistled to a passing serving girl, when the girl turned the Mare pointed demonstrably to Nolan. The server nodded and went off.

"Hey pal, what's your name?" the Ram asked, leaning around the Mare to address him from his right.

"Uh..."

"The name's Torin" said the Zebra, extending a hand which a flustered Nolan unthinkingly accepted, and shook in a mutually firm grip.

"Tamm" said the Ram. They shook too.

"Fitch" said the Lizard. Another handshake.

"Wilda" said the big Mare, her handshake was the firmest of all, so firm Nolan feared she might pop one of his knuckles. "And that over there" she pointed to the Tiger, who made no effort to introduce himself or even raise his eyes from his drink, "that's Kas, he ain't so happy right now on account of he's got a rash on his cunt." The gang sniggered.

"Fuck you, Wilda..." the Tiger grunted, barely audible over the din.

"Eh, woah! Keep that pussy rash shit away from me" said Wilda boisterously. The others sat around the table murmured and grinned humorously.

"So what's your name, eh?" said Torin, echoing Tamm's previous question.

"Um, Var... in" Nolan mumbled, which wasn't a name or even a real word, and he was amazed by his power of deception when they accepted it.

"Varyn Did you say?" Tamm asked.

"Yes" said Nolan, more confidently now that his lie had been bought. "My name is Varyn."

The server returned with Nolan's bowl of stew. He picked up the wooden spoon and started eating, hoping they would stop asking him questions or talking to him while he ate. Alas, no such luck.

"So where you comin' from?" asked Fitch, the green Lizard, sat side-on with his feet up, around the corner from Nolan.

"The palace" said Nolan through a mouth full of stew. He almost choked, he had let his focus wander away from lying and in doing so had allowed a truth to slip out.

"The palace at Yldon?" asked Tamm, everyone was suddenly leaning forward and interested.

"Yes" Nolan coughed, swallowing his food.

"So you're a laborer or some shit, right?" Torin asked.

"I chopped wood" Nolan blurted, making up the lie as he went along. "For the fireplaces. I got a big pile of wood every day, I chopped it into firewood."

"You chopped all day huh?" said Wilda.

"Yes, all day, every day. They brought me a new pile of wood every morning."

"A place like that's bound to have a shitload of fireplaces" said Tamm.

"Guess that explains the muscles" said Fitch lazily.

"Callouses too" Torin added.

"I guess somebody has to chop the firewood" Wilda mused while Nolan beamed internally at the high quality of the lie he had told them.

The serving girl who had brought Nolan his meal returned to pick up the steins and jugs that littered the table. "Hey sweetheart, how about you bring us another round of drinks?" said Torin. The Zebra softened his voice and expressly leered at the serving girl's body.

"How 'bout you bring me something now and I'll bring you something later" added Fitch, also leering at her, as was Tamm. They were showing off to each other. Their rude behavior offended Nolan, and it seemed to offend Kas, the Tiger too. His downcast gaze fiercened into a heated frown. The server efficiently collected the mugs and steins, ignoring them.

"Another round of ales?" she asked in the flattest of disinterested monotones.

"Sure thing" said Wilda, "put it on our tab with the rest."

"None for me" said Kas sullenly.

"How about you Varyn, you drinkin' with us or what?" Wilda shifted in her seat and asked Nolan. "It's on me, no problem."

"Sure, OK" said Nolan. A part of his mind yelled at him: Don't get into debt with these people! But the meat in his stew was salted and he had been thirsty to begin with, and the success of his lies was making him confident. He overlooked the risk.

"Listen up sweetheart" said Wilda, addressing the server, "I want a big strong beer for my big strong friend here."

The server went away with her tray of empty mugs. Tamm kept on watching her, following her as she returned to the bar to fulfill the order. The Ram's eyes suddenly widened and he leapt about in his seat. "Eh! Eh! Eh!" he said, hushed yet excited "Mouse-bitch gettin' fingered at the bar! Look!"

There was a rush as the gang fought and climbed over each other to lean out of the parlor. Out of a kind of curiosity, and herd mentality, Nolan leaned over and looked too, and sure enough the Rat he had seen earlier now had her hand in her Mouse girlfriend's long peasant skirt, her knuckles rolling and punching out the material, and the two of them, little more than teens by their looks, were still making out. The public act of carnality was going completely unnoticed by, or was being completely ignored by, the rest of the crowded room.

Having seen what there was to see, Nolan returned to his bowl of stew. The others weren't as ready to tear their gaze away. They expressed their admiration, spoke words of encouragement, made their jealousy known. Wilda leaned in too and laughed along while the boys all but jerked off to the scene. Though Nolan noticed that Kas, perhaps predictably, wasn't joining in.

The server returned, swooping in while they were distracted, and dropped off the fresh ales and an oversized stein of frothy beer for Nolan.

"Thank you" he said, she ignored him, made a show of her disinterest. She assumed he was like them, a lecher, which was eminently reasonable given that he was sitting with them, but it still hurt. Though the hurt was fleeting. The prospect of a drink had caused his thirst to multiply, and when the drink was finally placed in front of him his mouth felt like a salty desert. He raised the stein to his parched lips. The taste was bitter and strongly alcoholic, but also cool and deeply refreshing. He compulsively drank over half the beer before he lowered the stein, and yet he still did not feel his thirst had been adequately slaked.

The watchers groaned suddenly and started complaining. Nolan looked again and watched as the pair of horny Rodents pushed through to the exit. They were locals, running to their apartment or cottage, presumably to finish what they had started. Tamm, Torin, Fitch and Wilda fell back into more or less their original places around the table.

"What I wouldn't give to suck that bitch's fingers" said Tamm in a declining note of insincere bravado. Not missing the opportunity Wilda lifted her hips, shoved her hand into her pants, rubbed her genitals, and then thrust her tainted hand at the Ram's white-fleeced face as he sat beside her

"Argh! Not yours! I don't want yours!" he complained, wrinkling his nose as he grabbed the wrist of the Mare's offending hand in an attempt at fighting her off.

"Yeah, suck these you bitch" Wilda goaded as the two of them grappled. They rolled around on the bench beside Nolan. She got the Ram on his back, he brought his feet in against her gut and tried to lever her off, but it was no use, she was too big and strong. Fitch and Torin laughed openly at Tamm's predicament.

"Argh! Fuck off!" Tamm continued to protest. Then Wilda grabbed one of his horns and wrenched his head to one side, weakening him enough for her to push her fingers in. Tamm screwed up his face and choked with disgust as his mouth was violated. Then, mission accomplished, Wilda let go and sat up proudly, and went around the table collecting high-fives from Torin and Fitch, who then both wiped their hands on their shirts. Tamm kicked her with his split-hooved feet, she apparently didn't feel the blow, before also sitting up. He snatched up his ale, swilled it in his mouth and rudely spat on the floorboards. He then sat, hunched over his remaining ale, on the outskirts of the gang. He did not appreciate the joke, if that was what it had been.

Nolan continued devouring his stew all through the frivolity beside him. He drained his beer and Wilda didn't let the empty over-size stein hit the table. She took the big mug and waved it a passing server.

"Another one of these for my pal here" she said. Nolan wasn't thirsty anymore, however it happened too fast for him to stop Wilda, or the serving girl as she took the mug.

"So, I'll bet your probably wondering 'bout our line of work" said Wilda, and she slapped her (clean) hand cheerfully down on Nolan's heavy shoulder.

"Here we go..." Kas muttered.

"I guess" said Nolan without conviction.

"We're in the security business" she said, all pride. Kas scoffed with contempt.

"We're mercenaries, bro!" said Fitch, leaning across the table and grinning at Nolan.

"We do caravans, mostly," said Wilda "you know the trade caravans that come up from the ports in Uxdiliki? We take em' to Yldon, Soufon, the Karlithian border, wherever they need. I'm talkin' easy work, all you gotta do is stand around looking tough, get paid at the end of the journey."

"Hard to even call that shit work" Torin added lazily. The server returned with Nolan's beer, and she took away his now empty bowl of stew and his spoon. Nolan sipped his beer.

"We do houses too," Wilda continued. "Houses and warehouses. Merchants, landowners, you know? If any of those rich fucks want to go somewhere and not get their shit took while they're away, they hire us."

"That's even less like work" said Fitch.

"It's a paid holiday" said Wilda.

"All we do is sit around their house and drink their fuckin' wine" said Torin.

"We replace it with cheap stuff, so they don't find out" Fitch added. "Perks of the job, man."

"And we do bodyguard stuff too," said Torin "that's just another type of standin' around."

"Listen," said Wilda.

"Here it comes..." Kas muttered.

"We're looking for a new member" said Wilda.

"Umm..." said Nolan. This was bad. This was really bad. The severity of his mistake was just now dawning on him. He had been a fool to sit with them, and a bigger fool for allowing this affair to continue for as long as it had. He rediscovered his nerve and was adamant: he was determined to escape, to get away, at any cost. The issue was how do it without offending them. That would require tact and a degree of social know-how that he did not possess.

In place of a verbal response he picked up his beer and swilled down more alcohol.

"You'd be great!" said Fitch expressively.

"A natural," added Torin "like a fish in water."

"No two days are ever the same," said Wilda "total freedom. This ain't a job, it's a lifestyle."

"This is bullshit!" said Kas suddenly, the Tiger burst from his seat and paced out of the semi-secluded parlor. He disappeared into the happy crowd.

"Don't listen to him, that's the pussy rash talking" said Wilda.

"So what do you say?" asked Fitch, the Lizard was sitting up, leaning in across the table. They were all leaning in, even Tamm who had recovered from his humiliation. All the ease had gone out of the atmosphere, they were piling the pressure on now.

"Yeah come on Varyn, what do you say?" said Tamm, still morose but adding his voice.

"I can't" said Nolan.

"Ah sure you can" said Torin.

"We'll show you how it's done, train you up" said Fitch. "We'll equip you, anything you need."

"No, really, I'm not interested" he said, more firmly now. "I'm sorry, this was a mistake. I'm really not interested." He tried to rise.

"Hey, woah!" said Wilda, again placing her hand on his shoulder and pushing him down into his seat, while the others added objecting 'woah' noises too. "Where you goin'? We're only talking, you don't need to go anywhere."

"Listen, I appreciate the offer, but the answer is no" said Nolan firmly. "No thank you." He rose to his feet again. This time he overrode Wilda's shoving hand, and to get past her he heaved the table away, rocking the steins of ale that littered the table, spilling several but not knocking none over, and he clumsily shouldered his way out to an even more vociferous chorus of 'woah's and 'hey's.

Wilda grabbed his arm as he passed, swinging him around. She underestimated him, she still believed he cut wood for a living and so didn't apply all of her strength. Nolan clutched at her wrist with his free hand and twisted, rolling the bones in her forearm. Her hand popped open as he knew it would. He knew exactly how to break a grasp.

"Motherfucker!" Wilda was incensed. Then it was her turn to try to get up, but Nolan got to her first. He clapped her on both shoulders and shoved her hard down against the bench. He used the space that act created to back off further, striking the rear of his thigh against the corner of the table and rocking the drinks again in the process, putting distance between himself and the now furious Mare.

People were taking notice. They'd either witnessed the shoving or heard the scraping of the table. Conversations cut off mid-sentence and those near to the parlor got out of the way, clearing a space. A lot of people were looking. Unbeknownst to Nolan one person, some local, in an act of cool-headed prescience pushed out through the crowd, left the inn and ran to alert the town Constable.

"You piece of shit!" Wilda roared, her long Horse face twisted in a vicious snarl. As she lumbered to her feet she reached behind herself, and pulled a knife from sheath hidden flat against the small of her back. Nolan kept backing away, moving into the space created by patrons who were now crushed against the walls. Nobody wanted to get in the way.

"Wilda stop, you're going to get us thrown out!" Fitch begged her, trying to reason with her.

"Shut up!" she said, she shoved him away, sending the much smaller Lizard sprawling backwards over the parlor bench. Then she rounded on Nolan again. "You drink my beer but you won't work to earn it, oh, I'm going to fuck you up."

Before the altercation could develop further, the proprietor appeared. The Crow stepped up to the edge of the space cleared in the middle of his barroom. "What is this?" he demanded. He had a short wooden club in his scaly black hand.

"She was trying to press-gang him into her mercenary band" spoke Kas, he leaned through the crowd which he had dematerialized into a minute earlier, keeping back and out of sight of Wilda.

"What did I fucking tell you when I let you in here?" the Crow yelled. "If I had any trouble from you you'd be out on your ass, now look at you!"

Nolan wasn't listening. His fighting brain was kicking in. Wilda equaled him physically, and she had a knife, but he was also pretty sure she that didn't know how to fight. But then he cast all calculations out as he became aware that it wouldn't be a tournament fight, it would be a bar-fight. There were no rules here, and no bonesetters with healing potions. When he realized that he lost any heart he had for fighting, it was replaced by the icy grip of real apprehension, of real fear.

"Wait!" Nolan said. He lowered his guard, alleviating much of the tension in the room. He sighed, and started unbuttoning his pants. There was a moment of confusion, which dissipated when he produced his purse of crotch-warmed coins.

"How much for the two beers" he asked the proprietor. He was told the price. He picked out a high denomination coin which he gave to the Crow. More than enough for the drinks, and more than he wanted to spend, but he had to get out of this situation. "Put whatever's leftover against their tab" he added, feeling very defeated.

Then Nolan buttoned his fly, pocketed his purse, and pushed out through the crowd, heading towards his room. As he left he heard the Constable arrive. An aggressive male voice said: "The fuck is that? You know you're supposed to surrender your weapons when you come into town. What the _fuck_is that?" Wilda was in trouble for her knife. Good, Nolan thought. He carried on upstairs.

***

The sun had set. The sky outside the small lone window of Nolan's room was a shady mauve and was darkening by the moment. Correspondingly, it was dark in the room. There were a couple of candles in round bottomed clay holders. Nolan took one and returned to the hall, lit his candle on one of the candles out there, and returned to his room where he lit the second candle using the first. The small room acquired a mild, flicking illumination that left the walls mostly in shadow.

He wanted to wash, get clean after a long day. He took the large wooden pail from near the washbay and went out once more into the hall, where there was a cistern. He filled the pail and returned to his room. He placed a candle in the deep sill of his window. He retained oppressively stuffy, humid odor of the barroom in his lungs, he opened the window and let in the fresh mountain air in. He retrieved his wash things, his soap and rag, from his knapsack and placed them at the foot of his bed.

Then he stripped off; he pulled his padded tunic over his head, removed his gold-concealing belt, dropped his straight-legged trousers and stepped out of his undershorts, folding returning each item to his knapsack. Then naked, lank muscular body exposed; brownish skin and reddish coat; long loose-locked mane and tail. Dim candlelight flickered over hard abdominal muscles, heavy shoulders, thick strong neck; masculine narrow hips, round equine buns, thighs like tropical hardwood, bony, oddly jointed ankles. His was a body knit with scars, with the scar that began beneath his jaw and ended at the middle of his chest being the largest and the most prominent.

Nolan stood there for a moment, letting the cool mountain air wash over his naked self. The almost-fight was still fresh within him. His heart was still beating fast. He was limber, taut and ready. It was a feeling he yearned to be rid of. The task of lighting candles and filling a pail with water had helped, but weren't enough. In silence he went through his stretches. His joints and tendons all gave satisfying pops and clicks. He took several slow, deep, calming breaths.

He retained a light-headed dizziness and a mild headache. It took him a few moments to realize that it was the beer, that he was slightly drunk. Nolan didn't normally go out drinking and so he had a low tolerance for booze. Drunkenness, even mild drunkenness, was an unusual sensation for him. He took no pleasure in it, he wanted to be sober, stay sober. He needed his mind to be sharp.

As he forced himself to relax he became aware that he needed the bathroom. He was hesitant about returning downstairs as he might run into Wilda or the rest of her gang and thus find trouble. Then he asked himself, what's the difference between one watery liquid and another? Yes, there was logic to it, and a perverse delight. Indeed, he thought, why not?

Smirking to himself, he sauntered over to the sloping square of waterproofed wood, and there faced the window where he had placed a candle. Nolan fished his limp, noodly cock from his velvety sheath, aimed his flat head downwards, and with some satisfaction he drained his bladder. His stream of piss pattered a dull drumbeat on the wood, began to pool, and was then drawn away by gravity and out through the gap, outside to where it hardly mattered. Relief achieved he shook out the drops, then he splashed water from the pail onto the washbay to chase the offensively scented water away.

Nolan did not pack his cock back into his sheath. It was healthy to air it out from time to time and so he kept it loose, to flop and dangle while he picked up his soap and his rag, and then began to wash. He splashed himself with cold refreshing water, lathered, rinsed. Taking his time, he made himself clean. He paid special attention to his genitals and the insides of his thighs - the places where grime and bad smells congregated.

Nolan prided himself on keeping his body clean and nice-smelling. To keep clean and groomed was a form of self-respect, a discipline. And self-respect was of critical importance; in a warrior, in a man, in a person. He dedicated a full twenty minutes or so to the ritual and when it was completed he was immaculate, and his heartrate would not have been lower if he had been in a coma.

***

Nolan was laying stretched out on his bed, on top of the covers, in his shorts, mane still wet from his wash, when a knock at the door roused him. He bolted upright and checked inside his knapsack for the handle of his short-sword, but decided against drawing it in case it was the town Constable come to check on him.

He went warily to the door. It couldn't be Wilda come for revenge, he would have heard her hooves on the stairs and besides she wouldn't have knocked. He cracked the door and peeked out. There in the dim light of the landing, with the sound of the barroom coming up the stairs, was Kas, the Tiger.

"What do you want?" Nolan asked guardedly through the crack in the door.

"Hey, uh, Varyn," he was mumbling, his eyes were downturned. "I thought I'd let you know you won't have to worry about Wilda. The Constable took her knife, and now she's mad at him. I'm pretty sure she doesn't remember you. We've also been told to leave town in the morning. So... you're definitely off the hook, for everything. I wanted to let you know."

"Oh" said Nolan. He softened. "Thanks."

"Yeah, and sorry about those guys, they're all complete pieces of shit. They do this shit all the time."

"Then why hang out with them?"

Kas snorted at the silly question. "Because food costs money" he said, the corner of one lip raised in a black-humored grin.

Nolan found himself liking this person. The Tiger, Kas, was more decent than his companions. He was appalled by the right things and he apparently had a sense duty. And there was something more than that. It was an intangible quality, something Nolan intuited. Kas was a good guy; honorable, decent, kind, and trustworthy. It shone through in all that he did. Then Nolan realized that it ran deeper; Kas was good in a time and a place where goodness was not rewarded, and was often the more risky and difficult option. And it was for that reason Kas's decency was an even more affecting and platonically attractive quality. Rare, and cherishable.

In that fraction of a moment Nolan reappraised him. He saw Kas there, on the landing, in the gloomy light of the hallway candles. Dressed as he had been before; in a short open front leather jacket over a beige shirt with string at the neck, and black cloth pants that ended below the knee. He was several inches shorter than Nolan, which was another way of saying his was over six foot. His build was stocky and muscular. His muzzle was short, his feline nose split his upper lip. Kas had the familiar markings of a Tiger; white on his front, reddish orange on his back and the outside of his extremities, crossed regularly by sharp black stripes. His short fur accentuated his muscles. His long orange and black stripped tail protruded through the rear of his trousers, below his belt, and hooked up slightly behind him, black tip twitching and flicking constantly. There was a small, crescent shaped scar on his left cheek. And he was handsome.

"Yeah, so, anyway..." said Kas, turning to go.

"Wait" said Nolan, in a burst of sentimentality that could not wholly be explained by the alcohol in his bloodstream. "Would you like to come in?" he asked. It was a fumblingly pathetic request, one he was sure would be turned down.

"Come in? Come in and do what?" Kas replied skeptically, humorously.

"We could talk" Nolan offered. "And we could sit, there's a bed you can sit on. Or a chair. There's a chair, if you prefer."

"You're not wearing pants" he said, eyes flicking down to where Nolan's flank showed.

"I can put pants on."

Kas snorted mirthfully, he glanced back in the direction of the stairs, weighing his alternatives, before he turned to face Nolan and said: "You know what? Don't bother, I'm overdressed myself."

"So you'll come in?" Nolan asked, taken aback at the positive response.

Kas gave shrug. "Sure, why not?" he said. Nolan pulled back the door and allowed him space to enter. And enter he did, to their mutual surprise.

The Tiger ambled over to the bed and fell back into it, reclining lazily, shoulders against the flat part of the wall, head tilted forward from the intrusive slope of the roofline. Though Nolan was not bashful he was abidingly aware of the sartorial imbalance, he discretely ensured that the button-fly of his underwear was closed, which it was, and then sat on the chair and put his elbow on the table beside him. His top half in the candlelight, his bottom half entirely shrouded in shadow.

Kas shrugged. "So... what do you want to talk about?"

"OK, umm..." said Nolan. They were both awkward, Nolan was just worse at hiding it. "So then you're a mercenary" he said, self-conscious of the dumb statement.

"Yeah, don't remind me" the Tiger groaned. Then he huffed at himself. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take it out on you. I'm still pissed off at Wilda for trying to press-gang you."

"It's fine, really" said Nolan.

"No, it isn't 'fine really'" said Kas hotly, he was frowning at the shadowy floorboards. "Listen, a few months back we picked up this guy. He was a lumberjack. Big strong guy, real nice guy. But he was kind of simple, you know what I mean? He just wasn't very bright. He didn't want to come with us, but Wilda press-ganged him, so he came along. And then... OK what you have to understand is nobody ever fights; not bandits, not mercenaries, nobody fights. You either get ambushed and surrender, or else you ambush someone else and they surrender. If it's not an ambush, if the odds are even, then you _never_fight. Because you might get killed, and it's just never worth it."

Nolan nodded along, he knew how that felt.

"So we got a job guarding this caravan coming up from Uxdiliki," Kas continued "and we had this big dumb guy along with us. We got ambushed, which sucks but whatever, it happens, it's all part of the game. But this guy," Kas sighed heavily, "he didn't understand that you're supposed to give up. So he panics, he pulls out the sword we gave him. So of course the bandits shoot him; crossbow bolt to the middle of the fucking chest."

"Shit" said Nolan.

"Yeah, 'shit' is right."

"Did he...?"

"He should have" said Kas, "you take a bolt to the chest, with no potions. Yeah, he should have done. The ambushers, the bandits, they did their thing. They took the horses and the wagon, and they took our weapons and all our clothes. That's what they do, they leave you naked in the woods. And they didn't give two shits about the guy with the bolt in his chest, because why would they? So far as they were concerned it was his fault for pulling the sword."

Kas snorted bitterly. "Wilda wanted to leave him. The bitch, can you believe that?"

"So what did you do?" Nolan asked.

"Carried him" said Kas. "For the rest of that day, the night, and most of the next day. See that's the one good thing about getting shot with an arrow, the shaft seals up the wound so you don't bleed too much. Anyway so we got him to a town and a surgeon. She pushed the bolt out through his back, and poured the potion in through the hole in his chest while blowing into his mouth so his fucking lung wouldn't collapse. The guy was fine after that, he was tired but he was alright. But you better believe he didn't want _shit_to do with us. Though I can't say I blame him."

"What happened next?" Nolan asked.

"We got stuck with the bill," said Kas. "Surgeon bills aren't exactly cheap and we didn't even have clothes. We were standing there naked in the surgeon's office. We got work laboring; fetching and carrying and... shit like that. Raising the money for the bill. Then after that we worked some more so we could buy weapons and-"

"And clothes" Nolan added as a joke.

"Nah we had clothes" said Kas, sniggering. "We got clothes already, we were alright there. But the guys, Tamm, Fitch, Torin, they were _complete_fucking assholes the whole time. Because carrying him had been my idea, and so... assholes."

"You don't like them."

"No, no, I wouldn't..." Kas started to say. "Wilda's the only really bad one. The other guys aren't so bad. By merc standards they're pretty good, actually. Compared to some other outfits."

"Oh, OK... so, how long have you been a mercenary?" Nolan asked. He was leaning in. He knew very little of the outside world, he found Kas's words potentially useful as well as fascinating.

"Uhh, about nine years?" said Kas wonderingly. "Since I was seventeen, and I'm twenty-six now, or thereabouts."

"You were an orphan" said Nolan. He couldn't stop himself. Not knowing your birthday was a common thing for orphans, he didn't know his own birthday.

"Yeah; orphanage 'til I was twelve, the streets 'til sixteen, I grew up big so I moved into the muscle-for-hire business, and then transitioned that into mercenary work. Yeah." He spoke matter-of-factly.

"I meant, no, I meant... I was an orphan too" said Nolan awkwardly.

"No shit, really?"

"Yeah, doorstop baby."

"Where'd you get dropped off?" Kas asked, grinning, also leaning in. They were talking shop now.

"Yldon, the palace steps."

"Not the big steps?" Kas joked.

"No, one of the side gates" said Nolan. He smiled too, he appreciated the joke. "The guards at the palace took care of me. I lived in the stables for a while before I..." Nolan had to break off because Kas had burst out laughing.

"What, did you have your own fuckin' stall?" he asked through guffaws.

"Fuck you! I slept in the hay loft" said Nolan, also laughing. It was pretty funny. "It was pretty good, I mean, it was a warm even in winter and it was always dry."

"No doubt!" said Kas, his chest was convulsing with laughter as he lay the wrong way across the bed. "But you're still a Horse who grew up in a fuckin' stable!" And he started up laughing again.

They both giggled manfully for a while after that. "Yeah, and then I moved into the guard's barracks when I was about sixteen, so... I wasn't always in there."

"Yeah, no, sure" said Kas. "And then, what? You got that job chopping wood, and that's what you've been doing since?"

"Yeah..." said Nolan, and he looked down. Kas had vented to him, afforded him a candid peek into his life. It felt plain wrong to continue his own deception. He supposed he would have to keep it up, he couldn't see an alternative. He supposed he would just have to-

"You don't really cut wood, do you?" Kas asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yeah I do..." said Nolan feebly, his words carried no weight and inspired no conviction.

"No you don't" said Kas. The tiger sat up, causing the timbers in the bed to creek and whine. He sat and leaned forward. He spoke seriously now. "What do you do, honestly?" he asked.

Nolan pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. He stared at the rough, dimly lit floorboards of the small inn room. Then he got up, crossed the gap between them and sat on the bed beside Kas. The two of them sat together.

"Alright..." said Nolan. "I don't cut wood."

"And you're name's not Varyn either is it?" said Kas plainly.

"No."

"That's actually a good thing, you're better off with Wilda not knowing your real name" said Kas, he smiled a little, and then the smile faded. "So, what is your name?"

"It's... Nolan, Nolan Redmane" he said. He was taking a risk by telling him this, even if Kas was honest and sincere, he could always blab to the wrong person. And a purse full of silver could turn an honest man, if the honest man was desperate enough.

"I've heard that name" said Kas. Nolan could see him thinking, trying to place the name. "You're in the tournaments aren't you?"

"Yeah."

Kas fell back on his elbow in a surprise, a big smile emerging on his cat features. "I've seen you joust" he said. "At Soufon, a couple years back."

Nolan recognized the place, it was a large city in western Ylot, where the mountains gave way to the forest. "In the shade of the pines" he said, recalling the lists.

"Yeah, yeah, I couldn't afford the admission so I climbed a tree" said Kas. "I might have recognized you, if you hadn't been wearing the helmet."

"I would have been in the full suit, yeah" said Nolan.

"Yeah... wow..." said Kas, it was still sinking in. He was realizing that he was sitting next to a celebrity of a certain sphere. "You're the Champion of the Kingdom" he said in mild, subdued awe. "So... what are you doing here?"

"I... can't really say."

"Then don't" said Kas quickly, "and I won't ask again."

"Yeah, that might be better."

"Yeah..."

There was a long pause. They sat together on the bed in the semi-darkness, bodies turned towards the other, but both looking down, avoiding the other's gaze. "So... how did you guess?" Nolan asked.

"That you... didn't chop wood for a living?" said Kas.

"Yeah..."

The Tiger sucked his lower lip for a moment, and then he said: "It was some-thing about the way you carried yourself. You had a kind of... physical confidence, it showed even when you were nervous. And then when Wilda tried to grab you, the way you neutralized her. I didn't see it at the time. Then, I came up here, and I saw this..." Kas brought his hand to the scar on Nolan's neck, and touched him there, under his jaw. And he ran his finger along the line of scar tissue, tracing the line from his jaw to the center of Nolan's red-brown, muscle-swollen chest. And when Kas came to the end of the scar his finger lingered there, above Nolan's racing heart, and then the two men looked up at each other.

Their eyes met for what seemed like an eternity. Kas had green eyes. They were handsome eyes, and so very good, and kind, and sympathetic. And Kas stared back. And for a moment they were beautiful.

As if acting upon some unseen, unspoken cue, they leaned in at the same time, and kissed.

***

When their lips touched it was like a faucet was turned, and passion flooded out. Eyes closed, mouths opened, tongues penetrated lips. Bulky muscles became weak and ribcages contracted involuntarily. They grunted and murmured as they breathlessly exhaled against each other, and pushed their weak bodies together. Hands leapt to sides and they embraced feverishly, each desiring to touch the other as much as possible, to be in physical contact as much as possible.

Nolan pushed and Kas yielded. He rolled him back against the bed and continued their urgent making-out. Kas stopped clutching at Nolan's bare, rippling flanks long enough to tear himself from his open-fronted jacket, without breaking the kiss. Neither could breathe easily and they were soon gasping for air. Nolan moved to lie on top, he thrust both hands up under Kas's shirt and sank his fingers into the short, soft orange and black fur his lower back.

"Hold on! Hold on!" said Kas suddenly, breaking off the intense kissing.

"What?" Nolan asked. He stopped immediately, worried that he was doing something wrong.

"Is there a bucket in here?" Kas asked.

"Uh, yeah...?" said Nolan.

"Where?" Nolan rolled onto his side and let Kas to get up.

"By the window" said Nolan. He was confused, but he was accommodating. Kas followed his directions and found the big wooden pail. Nolan had emptied it following his wash and left his washrag hanging over the lip. Kas picked it up and rushed out the room. Nolan was left sat on the edge of his bed, in his underwear, skin blazing and heart racing, listening to the dull echoing splash of Kas filling the pail from the cistern in the hallway in a state of mild confusion.

A worrying thought came to him; earlier, Wilda had repeatedly mentioned Kas having a 'pussy rash', and now Nolan was trying to remember if he'd seen a bulge in Kas' pants. He couldn't be sure. There was such a thing as men with vaginas, though he had never witnessed the phenomenon himself. He wondered how he would handle it, if his suspicions proved true.

Kas returned, shutting the door behind him. Nolan got to his feet, he went confidently up to Kas and embraced him. Kas dropped the pail with a thud and a splash as he was pushed back against the door where the fierce kissing was immediately resumed.

"That's it, take the lead" he murmured through a mouthful of tongue. Nolan drew away long enough for Kas to removed his tight beige shirt, which he tossed onto the bed, and when they resumed their bare chests rubbed together.

Nolan could no longer restrain his curiosity. He had to know. Keeping up the kissing, trying not to let on, he allowed one of his hands to drift below Kas's belt, to the front of his black cloth trousers, and there performed a cupping, groping action. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the unmistakable lump of a masculine cock inside a masculine sheath, and a large pair of testicles. "Thank the spirits..."

"What's that?" Kas asked.

"It was just..." for some reason Nolan decided to actually answer the question, rather than shrug it off as he ought to have done. "I was worried about what Wilda was saying before."

"What, you thought I had pussy?" Kas asked, smirking breathlessly, the two of them still embracing.

"Maybe."

"Nah, I got a big ol' dick" said Kas proudly, though with enough self-awareness to play it as a joke.

"Right, I know, I just touched it."

"You really thought I was a cuntboy?"

"Is that what they're called?"

"Yeah, that's what they're called" said Kas, "but they're not real."

"Really? I thought they were real" said Nolan.

"Nah those are just girls who bandage their boobs and wear men's clothes."

"No, I don't mean them" said Nolan, trying to explain. "I meant the guys who are have everything else the same, but have vaginas."

"Right, and I'm telling you they don't exist."

"I'm pretty sure they exist."

"Can we have this discussion another time?" Kas asked humorously.

"Yeah, sure" said Nolan, and the two of them leaned in to kiss again. However before their lips could meet Nolan drew off and asked: "Wait, so, what do you need the water for?"

"Oh! For the jizz" said Kas. "Cold water's the best thing for getting cum out of fur. I was planning ahead."

"Ah, I see."

"Any other questions?"

"No, I'm good."

"Alright then" said Kas, and the two of them lunged in hungrily and kissed once more.

After a few moments Kas's hands left Nolan's body, and there was a metallic clink of a belt being unbuckled, followed by a contortion of the Tiger's shoulders as he reached back and opened the loophole at the rear of his pants that allowed his tail to protrude. His pants were loose-fitting and fell away without complaint.

Now that Kas had caught up the two of them could really get started. Taking the lead, as requested, Nolan drew the gorgeous Tiger in towards him, back-stepped deeper into the room, maneuvered him to one side like a dancer, then pushed him back against the table. Kas hopped backwards and sat.

They were beside the candle and their bodies caught in its yellow light. The ridges of their stomachs, the swells of their chests, were illuminated from a side only. Kas hooked his fingers into the waist of his undershorts and squirmed out of them as he sat on the table's hard surface. Nolan's arms were occupied and so Kas helped him out, he pincered the buff red Horse's flanks between his soft feet and swept down, tugging his underwear off. They both grinned at the playful gesture.

Both of them were deeply aroused, yet not in a physical sense. Each took himself in hand, and after a quick jiggle they were both ragingly tumescent. And once again they amused themselves when they peered down at the same time, each checking the other out. Neither of them was disappointed. Kas sported an angry seven inch hard-on; a broad, up-turned lattice of shiny red-pink muscle, covered by a dozen or so soft spines and ending in a sharply narrowing head. Nolan's own straining dinger was nine inches long, not as thick as Kas but hardly a needle; pure brown in color, as straight as beam, girdled in the middle by a rubbery ring prepuce and webbed with protruding veins; flat head crowned by a series of bumps surrounding recessed pinhole of a urethral opening.

"I love Horses..." said Kas.

"Yeah, we play to win" said Nolan.

Kas sniggered. "Yeah."

"I'm not too big for you?" Nolan asked. He was always concerned about being too big for his partners.

"No, no, you're fine" said Kas. "You're very fine."

The Tiger licked his fingers, depositing a large amount of slippery saliva on those pad-lick digits, then he pulled his legs into his chest and lay back against the wall, and reached past his large, hanging furry balls and gratuitously lubed his now-exposed asshole. "OK, do it" he breathed.

"Alright" said Nolan. One more he took himself in hand, stepped in, aligned his cock with Kas's unseen hole and nudged his flat head up against it. He pushed, and it felt like his blunt head was ramming a flat fleshy wall. He thrust steadily harder until he was about to quit, and then Kas's asshole suddenly gave way and he slipped inside.

"Ah! Fuck that's good" Kas groaned in pleasure as his ass was stretched. "Keep going."

And he did. He thrust in slowly, and when three-quarters of his long equine dick was snugly ensconced within his stripy partner's guts his thighs hit the edge of the table. His limit. He drew back, thrust again, going slowly at first, but once his leaking cockhead had coated Kas's ass in a protective layer of slippery cock-slime, and he could glide in and out without any rubbing or rawness, he began to pick up speed.

Nolan started humping in earnest. Throwing his hips into each thrust, bashing the edge of the table, causing the timbers to creak and the legs to lift and crack against the floorboards. Kas wrapped his strong arms around Nolan's sides, pressed his face in against his neck and sometimes his surging dick poked Nolan in the belly. The soft, yielding, rippling flesh of Kas's asshole was amazing. He caressed Nolan's sensitive cock on each hard thrust and drove him to ever greater heights of tender pleasure.

They soon found their rhythm. They kissed intermittently, sometimes on the lips and sometimes else-where, and Kas's blunt claws raked over Nolan's back. Their skin was blazing hot and they were soon sweating, and both were panting from the sheer exertion of fucking and being fucked. And Nolan's long Horse tail flagged up behind him and swished involuntarily. Kas was bounced closer and closer to the edge of the table, before either of them knew it the woodwork was no longer an impediment, and Nolan began to hilt him at the top of each great plunging thrust and his heavy balls swung up and slapped wetly against the hunky Tiger's ass.

The candle that had been beside them bounced away and eventually fell, the clay holder shattered and the flame was extinguished in a splash of wax. They paused when the light went out, then they signaled to each other that they did not care and so went right back to kissing and fucking.

Nolan's thrusts grew ragged and desperate as he approached his climax. Kas sensed what was coming and moved to preempt him: "Not inside!" he grunted.

"What?"

"Don't blow inside me, its murder to get out."

"Alright" said Nolan. He had stopped thrusting altogether, and stood there with his dick mostly inside Kas's ass.

"Let's move to the bed" Kas suggested. Nolan agreed, he stepped away and his hard cock slipped out with a wet plop. Kas stood, and, avoiding the puddle of drying wax in the darkness, went to the bed and climbed onto it, on all fours, perpendicular. The white fur of his firm, rounded ass showed clearly in the gloomy light. Nolan followed eagerly, he stood over him, bent over him, grabbed him by the hips and again penetrated him without needing a hand to guide him.

He soon regained his former pace and rhythm. The bed made more noise than the table. Rather than remain on all-fours Kas raised his top half up, spine arched, and he twisted so they could kiss again. And Nolan wrapped his arms around the Tiger and dragged his fingers through the fur of his chest.

The change in position had delayed his orgasm but he could not forego it indefinitely, nor did he wish to. His thrusts again grew ragged. "It's coming!" he grunted through gritted teeth and retracted lips.

"On my back" said Kas.

"You sure?" Nolan asked, still humping frantically.

"Yeah, do it" he reiterated, and he dropped again to all fours, tail held high.

Nolan thrust a couple more times. He felt his orgasm rise and then crest, and as he passed the point of no return he withdrew his cock, thrust upwards, gripped his long shaft and took vague aim at the center of Kas's stripy-furred back. Nolan's crown flared and his cock lurched, and intense pleasure coursed through him. His ejaculate rattled through his fingers and flew out at pressure, jetting out in sticky, ropey, pearly white arcs that splashing across Kas's muscular back. Nolan threw a hefty nut at the best of times, with his big balls, and to make matters worse he hadn't jerked off at all in the past few days. He was a little backed up. It was all coming out now.

He came long and hard. Rope after rope squirted from his desperately straining dick. And when last drips drooled from his cockhead, and his length wilted and softened, the strong scent of cum hung in the air. Nolan rolled off, and lay on the bed, breathing heavily, sweating, and sexually exhausted.

"Wow, you really got me" said Kas, standing and twisting to look as cum trickled down his brawny back and shoulders. "Been a while?"

Nolan nodded wearily though he wasn't sure if Kas noticed. Temporarily too tired and blissed-out to move or do anything, he lay on the bed and watched as Kas took the pail and went to the washbay by the window and, in the light of the lone surviving candle, carefully used the wetted rag to sweep the stringy cum from his short, glossy fur.

Nolan lay with his soft cock against his thigh, and after a few minutes rose to offer assistance, though no assistance had been requested. "Let me check for you" he said. Without a word Kas passed him the candle, and Nolan ran the light of the flame over the Tiger's back. He found a few stray threads of semen and wiped them off with the rag.

"You don't have to get every last bit, just get most of it" said Kas. Nolan followed the instructions, and checked around his tail and butt, and found a big glob that had dripped onto the rear side of the Tiger's furry thigh and had been missed as Kas could not feel what was on his fur.

"That's got most of it" said Nolan.

"Thanks" said Kas. The tall Equine reached past him in order to return the candle to the sill, and in doing so caught sight of Kas's front, and saw his screaming hard-on. The cat needed to be taken care of too, and Nolan wanted to be the one who took care of him.

He moved in closer and put an arm around Kas's chest, hugging him from behind and preventing him from turning, and with his free hand he stroked over his hard, furry white gut. "You've been left out" said Nolan calmly into Kas's fluffy black-white half-moon ear.

"Gosh, I have, haven't?" said Kas theatrically. Nolan smiled and slipped his hand lower, and wrapped his fingers around Kas's fiercely erect cat-cock. His cock was hot, throbbing, and dripping at the tip, but was too dry for a tug and so Nolan brought his hand up again, and held it in front of Kas's face. Nolan was leaning around him, chin to collarbone, intimately cheek-to-cheek, and was able to watch as Kas licked his fingers and lapped at his palm. Then, long glassy strands descending, he placed his hand on Kas's stiff, fat cock, and began to stroke.

It wonderful being so close. Their bodies interlocked, there did not seem to be a part of Nolan's front that was not in contact with Kas's rear. And so as he touched him, and Kas's stiffened bodily, Nolan felt it too. The sudden intakes of breath, the hearty masculine moans of pleasure, the small tremors and the squirminess that physical stimulation produced, the sudden blushing warmth; Nolan felt it all. He turned his long head and planted kiss after kiss on the Tiger's crescent-scared cheek and neck. And Kas subconsciously looped his striped tail lightly around Nolan's powerful thigh.

He stroked steadily. He made sure to pass his sloppy palm over Kas's glans, for pleasure as well as to acquire more lubrication, and when he was convinced that Kas's cock was entirely lubricated and chaffing was impossible, he transitioned into a firm, quick handjob.

In a matter of seconds Kas was writhing in under his touch, eyes shut, mouth hanging open, struggling to keep standing. Nolan used his free arm to support him, hugging him around his broad chest. As he settled in he became more adventurous with his free hand, he raised it up and tweaked one of Kas's small manly nipples between the knuckles of his finger, then he reached lower, past his jerking hand, and fondled the big cat's large furry nuts; each the size of a small apple, and only fractionally smaller than his own weighty eggs.

Kas's legs grew progressively weaker and more unsteady. Nolan decided to change things again. He stopped tugging, wrapped his arms around Kas's stomach and physically lifted him up off the ground.

"What are you doing now?" Kas asked breathlessly.

"Put your feet against the wall" said Nolan through a grimace. "I want to try something."

The buff red Horse adopted a kind of flying squat, sitting without a chair, with his Tiger lover sitting high up on his hips. Nolan took practically all of their combined weight on his thighs and it was like nothing; his legs were powerhouses, he didn't even feel the strain. Then, while keeping a steadying arm around Kas's gut, with his free hand Nolan reached down between the Tiger's thighs and located his own long equine cock, hanging heavy and limp outside his sheath. Twenty minutes had passed by since his climax and he was more than ready to go again. He gave himself a few firm strokes and his barrel-shaped dong surged. In this position, with Kas sat high on his lap, Nolan's cock came up under-neath Kas's own member and lay parallel, one above of the other, and Kas's balls rested atop Nolan's shaft.

"Are you sure you can maintain this?" Kas asked, trying to settle into his precarious position.

"Just watch" said Nolan. He stroked his own cock, slickening his shaft with their combined juices, and by pleasuring himself and leaving Kas alone he began to draw level in their race to orgasm. After few moments of self-stimulation he paused and adjusted his grip. Spreading his fingers, he sought to encompass them both in a single hold. But he couldn't manage it. Though his hands were fairly large their two dicks combined were just too girthy for him, they were simply too thick to hold in one grasp at the same time.

Then it was Kas to the rescue. Bringing his paw-like hand down, he interlocked their fingers and took up the hold from the other side. Through their mutual efforts they squeezed their dicks together and achieved a gasp; thumbs on top, fingers locked underneath.

And they started to stroke. Their movements were awkward at first. They had to stroke in unison, their timing needed to be perfect. They started slow, got accustomed to each other's motions, and built from there.

"Ah! This is amazing," Kas grunted, "you're a genius!"

"Keep saying that it'll help me cum!" Nolan gasped, by way of a joke. Both sniggered until a fresh burst of pleasure distracted them and their sniggers reverted to manly moans.

The sensation was as intense as it was unique. Their dissimilar cocks sandwiched together, clinging digits stroking ever faster, ever more confidently. Their pleasure built and built. The two moaned into each other. With Kas riding higher on his chest Nolan was no longer leaning over him, instead he had his long head tilted back with Kas's shoulder pushing against his throat, and when Nolan moaned and groaned he did it into the ceiling. His tail went mad, swishing and whipping at the floorboards as well as at his own calves. The smell of sweat and male sex saturated the humid air.

Hands flew at ever greater speed. Veins bulged out of forearms. Foamy drips of sexual fluid dripped or descended in long glassy threads from their surging cocks. Faces contorted or grimaced. Eyes were clamped in gruff male ecstasy. "Here it comes, ah! Oh fuck!" Kas grunted.

By a quirk of timing, or by a miracle, Kas and Nolan got off at precisely the same moment.

Both men cried out as their orgasms overtook them. Ejaculate squirted through compressed urethras and blasted out in uncoordinated pulses, flying in long ropey white arcs and splattering against the plank-board wall beneath the window. Thigh muscles fluttered and both men lurched and shook as they came, overcome with mind-crushing pleasure, and Nolan somehow held his footing and his grasp. Their flying hands halted, clutched the base of both dicks and remained there. Nolan's equine cock had flared and Kas's cock, squirting a fraction of an inch above, caught the lip of the flare and one of his pulses of cum fountained upwards, rising above their heads, fanned out in midair and then rained sticky droplets of cum everywhere.

Their orgasms seemed to go on forever. And when it was finally over, and their ejaculations slowed to a trickle, and the waves of pleasure began recede, and their cocks softened and diminished, Nolan, still holding Kas aloft, staggered back and let himself topple over. His body thudded into the boards, which creaked and cracked alarmingly as though they were about to break, and succeeded in mildly winding them both with the impact.

They lay gasping, sweating. The room was so tiny Nolan's head was near the door. Kas rolled over, put his head against Nolan chest. Without exchanging a word the two men wrapped their burly arms around each other, and cuddled while they recovered.

***

They lay easy in each other's arms for five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes...

The cool mountain wind came in through the window and washed over them. Breathing slowed, hot bodes cooled, and heartrates slowly returned to normal. Nolan was first to stir. He gently pitched Kas off of him, rose, went to the washbay, and used the cold water from the pail and his washrag to clean the mess they had made, using the candle to check his progress.

"Hey... what are you doing?" Kas asked sleepily.

"Cleaning our mess" said Nolan, crouching under the window, his strong scarred body hunched over.

"Ah..." Kas rolled from his side onto his back, soft pink cock draped over heavy balls. Making no effort to help, he simply lay there and watched. And after a while, when he had regained some of his former energy and alacrity, he got to his feet and began to dress.

"Going somewhere?" Nolan asked as the Tiger pulled on his black cloth pants, foregoing underwear.

"Yeah but I'll be back" said Kas, he pulled his shirt on over his handsome head, and opened the door, and the echoing sound of the noisy barroom downstairs drifted in, and then he was gone.

Nolan finished up, knocking the last of their cum down to the washbay, and then washing it all out through the gap with splashes from the water bucket. Then he went to the bed and lay down, naked on top of the covers, head and shoulders resting against the backboard, and waited.

Kas soon returned, carrying two large, unlabled brown bottles of cool frothy beer with cork stoppers. "Refreshments, my treat" he said chipperly, passing a bottle to Nolan. He took a swig, the beer was mildly bitter and very refreshing. He watched as Kas stripped off again.

"You looking to go another round?" Nolan asked, referencing the way Kas was undressing. Though he had blown twice already that evening he could go for a third, in fact he was looking forward to it.

"Oh you bet, just gotta take care of somethin' first" said Kas. He kicked out of his pants and went naked to the window. Taking his limp cock in hand, and while raising his beer bottle high and tipping his head back to drink, in the soft light of the moon that now glowed through the window, the Tiger began to noisily urinate onto the washbay.

He was quite a sight. Nolan sniggered silently to himself, there in the darkness.