FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

This story series is... long. It will contain a lot of stuff over time, including but not limited to:

Straight, gay, bisexual, pairs and orgies, plenty of plot, death, happiness and sadness, a worried cat, and things. Each chapter will be tagged for what is in it, however a given thing may be only a small part of the chapter.

Gentle Moons

Chapter 1

The Black Marsh was a challenge for travel. The land itself was poisonous, requiring potions and concoctions to stave off illness and death from simply breathing the wrong bit of fumes. It was to just be a distant shoreline to port for the trade ship, but a mishap in the night found the ship run aground instead of sailing around safely.

Time for repairs was not on the agenda for the petulant mer - or elves as some called them. Only one of the guards had the common sense to question the idea of trying to take a set of wagons loaded with wine through the swamp. Sadly, he was dressed down promptly by the family traders that they were guarding. The wine had to reach Vvardenfell. They would just make sure the cat scouted. She was an excellent guard and one of the best they had. That and the small khajiit was more expendable than any of the Altmer.

That was how Nyia found herself in her current state. Wet, stinking ground was finally starting to give way to solid surfaces when they camped down for the night. With the majority of the danger considered to be over, the albino suthay phase khajiit was left alone on guard duty for the start of the night. An argument between the merchants in the nearby tent covered the sounds of the approaching tribal argonians. Nor did her alert, silver-pink eyes pick them out in the dusk as the merchants' poorly-built fire didn't help her low light vision. The large swath of stinking cloth that was looped across her face contained a stench that knocked her out quickly and wiped her memories of the recent hours in a heartbeat.

Time and space weren't completely static for the poor feline for a while. Drugged into a stupor, she was aware of only snips and flashes of events. A collar fitted around her neck, her clothing and armor and belongings stripped from her. Stumbling travel, sometimes pushed, sometimes nearly dragged by scaled hands. How far? How long a time? She didn't know.

Some kind of ritual began to filter through her muddied mind as it felt like her very being was being pulled from her and squished like a plum, bound and clamped and controlled. Something went horribly wrong though. An explosion of magical energy and the decimation of the collar, the power of the blast sending the bodies of the feral argonian casters flying like limp rag dolls.

It took a while for Nyia to awaken from the drugged stupor and the failed ritual. Her neck tingled where the collar had been and her thigh ached with a stabbing pain. The lizard folk who had tormented her were scattered across the landscape, many more pieces than there were originally living bodies.

The light-gray-furred form that lay against her side was something unexpected though. Like a khajiit, but his muzzle was much longer. Thick fur made his tail a brush, like a fox, and large, triangular ears topped his head. She had no idea that she was staring at a lilmothiit - a race thought to be extinct long ago from the plague that was released on the marsh many centuries before.

"How...? Please don't hurt me," she whimpered, looking around. But there was no living person to be found beyond the fox. As a khajiit, her system cleared drugs quickly, while he was only just barely beginning to recover from the same poison in his blood. Claws extended from her fingers on one hand as she searched with eyes and ears, rubbing at her sore thigh. But no poking or touch brought any more or less pain.

The lilmothiit stirred and tensed and a sharp pain shot through Nyia's thigh as the gash on the male's thigh made him wince in pain. He sucked in a deep breath and his hands went to the oozing wound as his dim eyes searched about.

The khajiit's fuzzy white ears went back and her pink nose wrinkled in pain as well. "Fox," she said quietly, reaching over to poke him gently. Her breath caught briefly in surprise at the indistinct feeling of being poked herself, and she swatted at nothing.

"I feel very bad," he murmured, his unfocused gaze falling on her. At least he wasn't reacting to defend from her or attack. He winced and strained to sit up.

She moved closer to soothe him, looking at the surrounding slaughter that the ruined ritual wrought. "I'm Nyia. What are you called?" She didn't speak like a khajiit, not using the common third person reference for herself. "We were captured by argonians. My caravan..." She looked down, her ears laying back in concern. "Do you remember where you come from? How did you get here?"

He winced as he sat up, looking around and taking in the scene. He was larger than she, more the size of a normal man, though his legs were digitigrade - animal-shaped like hers. His gaze fell on his thigh and he got enough mental acuity to work a healing spell on it. The wound closing itself brought immediate relief to Nyia as well.

"I'm Gannen," he said softly. "I was gathering reagents for my den." With the wound healed, he touched his neck where a collar just like the one she'd been fitted with had also exploded. "They were trying to slave-bind us to somebody. My mind is all fuzzy, so I don't know who. It couldn't have been one of the ones here, or we'd die instantly when they did."

He reached and touched the side of her neck softly to examine where the collar had been, then froze in surprise, his eyes widening. "They didn't..." he muttered.

"I don't think they did it right," she said, petting him to soothe herself. It was odd. Petting something like an animal was soothing, but petting him gave her an echo as if she were being petted and soothed as well.

His ears flattened against his head. "Do you remember any leashes? Anybody holding something attached to the collar?"

She shook her head avidly. "My mind was fuzzy. All the time since they attacked my caravan is a haze. I don't think..." She pulled her legs up to her chest. "They didn't rape me, and I don't think they hurt me. Something stopped them?"

His whiskers folded back against his muzzle and he reached over gingerly to touch her ear. His own ear flicked in response. "They DID!" he groaned. "Oh souls, how could they have been so fatally stupid?!"

"We're bound as slaves to somebody? But what happened to them?" she asked, gesturing around at the chunks of meat that remained of the perpetrators.

He shook his head and sighed. "The ritual works to bind a slave to a master. Hand to neck, through the leash and collar. A daedric ritual. Whatever happens to the master is also experienced by the slave. Pain and even death. It is to ensure the slave is protective, since they are life-bound."

A deep breath before he continued. "They gave no hands. They bound my neck to yours. Two slaves to each other. That messed up the ritual and it looks like the daedric magic turned them to shredded meat for their try. A slave can't be the slave of their own slave. But the binding worked anyway. We're both slaves to each other."

She shivered in her fine, white fur, and licked the back of his head worriedly. "Can you walk? I don't want to stay here to be found by them again." It was odd to know that he was comforted by the lick, as well as feeling the echo of the sensation herself.

"I should be able to. Maybe wobbly, but my head is clearing. Once I got enough to cast, I started clearing the poison." He looked around. "I don't see my armor or clothing, or anything that looks like it would be yours. I don't even know how long ago they captured us. I..." He turned his gaze on her. "We'll go to my den. It will be safest." He got to his feet and began poking through the shredded remains of the possessions the argonians once had, though he passed over dirty coins that many would normally take.

Nyia got onto all fours at first, the animal shape of her legs letting her move that way to a limited degree as she worked to become confident enough to stand. She looked for anything to arm herself beyond her own claws, or cover her bare fur, but weapons, clothing, and bodies were shredded like a troll got them. So she found a few pouches that she could nest in each other until their holes didn't overlap and gathered up the sparse few coins she spotted. "We should avoid running into anybody with weapons," she said sullenly.

"I'll take us as safely as I can to my den," he said. "What will we do then, though? The ritual is usually time-bound."

"What does that mean?" she asked, trying to get her bearings with landmarks or even just see the sky through the thick canopy of foliage.

"It means it lasts a certain amount of time, and can't be broken by anything during that time. Not by any thing I'm aware of at least," he said, pointing to a large tree. "This way. I recognize the area. The muck always collects on the marsh side of the trunks."

Following along, she looked at him cautiously, wary of racism. "I don't see the problem here. As long as you don't get yourself killed. Unless you have something against the company of khajiit."

"I don't intend to die," he told her quietly, stopping at the edge of some wetter-looking ground. "I need to protect you too. Either of us dying would kill the other. Getting hurt affects each other too." He made an easy jump to start climbing a tree before the goopy surface. "Khajiit are fine, I think? I've never met one," he admitted. "It's not like we asked to be bound like this. It makes things more complicated for both of us, and for my people." He stopped at the first branch to offer the three foot five khajiit a hand up.

She smiled and waved off his hand. Using her claws to climb was well within her abilities. "You do not even know what I can do. Why do you think you need to protect me?"

"Then perhaps you need to protect both of us. But we both need to protect each other like we would protect our own selves," he murmured, climbing higher, then walking out along a branch to jump to the branch of another nearby tree. "I just don't think you had 'let me get slave-bonded to my very own slave foxen' in mind as a goal when you started out the day you got caught. It'll take some adjustment."

"You are not a slave fox. You are Gannen. Getting caught or stuck with me doesn't change that."

"True. Without the leash in hand part, neither of us can magically force the other to do something against their will. You're just bound to what I feel, and I'm bound to what you feel," he said thoughtfully, moving from tree to tree across the mucky ground.

"I wouldn't be interested in controlling you if I could," she said, following closely.

He shook his head. "I don't think they had any good idea what they were doing. We're both probably very lucky for that. I don't know what they were thinking, really. The slave ritual is foul enough as it is." He paused at the next tree trunk, his ears swivelling alertly as he judged which branch he wanted to use. "You don't speak like I've been told khajiit speak."

"I was not raised with my kin," she said softly, her ears flicking back in pain before pushing forward stoically. "I've been raised by altmer - high elves - since I was a kitten. I watch over one of the trade caravans... well, I did."

"Do you think your companions are okay? Were you attacked when you were all together or were you off scouting or alone?" He jumped to another tree, his fluffy tail trailing behind. "I was out on my own when I was caught, so I only have myself to blame and only myself to worry about."

She gracefully leaped from branch to branch, watching his tail admiringly. "The savages snuck in when I was distracted. I didn't know anything after they knocked me out with a foul smelling cloth. I am lucky I am not a rug."

"I don't think they use rugs. Did you see how dirty their feet were?" He was being silly to try to take his mind off the troubles. Climbing through the trees of the extremely dangerous swamp with nothing but fur and claws was not normally on his agenda. "We're going to need to find a moss bough before dark. The gases get really bad once the sun goes down and we still have half a day of tree jumping. They really took us deep into the swamp." He started heading up the tree briefly every few trees to look around, giving her quite a view from below him as he went up.

She licked her maw. "If you see anything," she muttered with a quiet purr, "I sure do." She was more self-conscious than the average khajiit because of the elven values she'd been raised with, so this self-decree made her ears turn pink.

He was trying to make sense of why he was unexpectedly happy and enjoying climbing up to scout, not realizing that the happy feeling was actually coming from her view of his underside. After a few more climbs, she felt him brighten mentally when he was at the top. "I see a bough, with a good, dense path to it." He climbed back down and went around the trunk to align better. Then out along the branches and short jumps or even just steps to nearby trees' branches. The foliage was thick, making it nearly impossible to fall as they squeezed through the leaves and branches.

"We are going to your den?" she asked, keeping his tail in view in the dimming light of dusk. She thought he just meant his personal home.

"Eventually," he answered. "Right now we're just trying to get to a bough before it gets too dark and cold. We're over sloughmud. Touching the ground would kill us, and the rising fumes at night would as well. My den makes boughs in trees so we have safe places if we are traveling." He found some branches that had grown braided and intertwined and paused to work their tips into a new section of braid so they were all interwoven. "Nearly there."

She followed, fluffing her fur somewhat to try to keep from feeling naked as she looked at the woven branches. "Your people did that?" She was starting to get the idea that when he said den, it meant more people than just him.

He nodded, his own fur fluffing in confusion as hers did. He was not normally self-conscious because he was not brought up by altmer. He was just unprotected against the swamp and its hazards. "This one has grown a lot since it was last braided, so I hope the bough is still in good condition."

Woven branches led to the trunk and he climbed it to a globe of succulent plants and moss that clung to the upper reaches of the tree. "Hmmm... It's a one person bough. There is some old, dried meat that smells still good, and some water skins." He looked at her appraisingly. "I think we can both fit, but it'll be tight."

She wrapped an arm around behind him and rested her head on his arm. "It's just right."

"Get any personal things done that you need to before dawn. Once the air cools, we'll need to stay sealed in until the morning." He gave her a quick squeeze with his arm, not fully aware that both of them were affected by the slave link and getting comfort from comforting the other. Then he climbed down briefly to take care of his own bodily needs.

She headed down the other side of the trunk, finding a place to let things drop down to the stinky ground below, and headed back up to climb into the open space in the plants. She was looking forward to finally being able to sleep rather than be drugged into submission.

When he returned, he distributed the jerky and water and they had a quick bit of food, then he climbed in and squeezed through to get into place curled around her in the space that was really made for just one person his size to curl up. He twisted and curled against her more tightly as he drew the branches across the opening and tucked them closed. The pod had a clean, planty smell to it when he was done.

"The moss and plants filter out the swamp gas and poisons and let only clean air through. That keeps us safe." He tried to lick his own nose, but his tongue hit her ear instead. "Just... very close."

"That's fine," she purred. "We need to stick close." He liked being against her, so through him, she liked him being against her. At the same time, his warm body curled around hers was very comfortable to her as well. She slept very well, knowing that he was the only person she could absolutely trust at the moment not to hurt her.

The fumes outside would sicken or kill, but inside the pod they were fine, warm and cozy and soft, sleeping until the morning light. When the soft glow of day filtered in through the plants, Nyia woke, blinking sleepily in the dim light. A yawn escaped her lips and she carefully moved her arm to pat the fox that was still curled up against her. She enjoyed having somebody close by.

He stirred and made a small mrrfle noise of question at the sensation of the petting, then opened one eye. There was barely enough light for even a khajiit to see in the plant pod. "Izz...fluffrrrrrrr...krrrrr...wha?" he asked plainly. After the poison and the recent events, some confusion was reasonable.

"Morning, Gannen. I like how cozy this is," she said, still petting him.

"Squishy cozy," he agreed. "It's made for one of my people to curl up in at best, but you're small, so we fit okay." He made some small, happy sounds as he worked on waking up.

"Your people are very clever to make these," she said, just enjoying waking up to someone soft.

"When the argonians released the plague, long, long ago, and the marsh became even more deadly as a result, we had to find more ways to stay safe." He did some stretching despite being curled up, just moving against her slightly as he stretched individual muscles. The motions helped her feel better through the link. "So far I'm not upset about who I'm collared to," he said with a wry smile.

She made a face. "Better than a nord, huh?"

His tongue graced the back of her head in a grooming lick. "Okay, not upset at all with who. Just upset with the fact that we were captured, dragged about, drugged, poisoned, and had all this done without our permission."

"I do not think we woke up one morning and decided this was the day to do this thing. It's just going to be time until it wears off. Then we can decide what to do."

He continued grooming the back of her head because he was enjoying her enjoyment through the link. "We'll make the best of it and do what we can, and hopefully not have any problems."

Her hand stopped for a moment, but she realized that she also enjoyed the petting sensation she got when she petted him, so she resumed. "Tell me about your kin. I have not seen any of you before."

"Lilmothiit? You need to have seen or met one of us before, otherwise I fear my spell may be broken." His ear flicked and then both went flat against his head. "It would be bad if it is, but it doesn't feel broken. It might be because of the argonians and their failed ritual."

He sighed softly. "We're assumed to be extinct, and that's good for us. The spell we all have helps hide us and people thinking we're gone forever makes it so they don't look for us. We've lived in the Black Marsh for a very long time, mostly out of the way of the argonians, but when the lizards released the plague, we tucked tail and hid. We developed a spell to make us undetectable to everybody. We can allow people to see us, but anybody who doesn't believe we exist can't see us even if we try to let them."

"I heard the name before from the mages," she said, "so I had no reason to think you don't exist. But I've never met one of you before. Maybe you're right and the ritual made me an exception."

"Ahh. Well, if you met one of us before, they could allow you to see them, and then you'd see all of us. But if mages in Cyrodil caught wind of us not being extinct, they'd drain the swamp to look for us. In the past, it was far too common for us to be highly-prized slaves when bound by that ritual. The spell to hide us was very important to our survival."

Licking his nose, she purred. "Your secret is safe with me. The argonians seem to have died, so it's safe with them too."

He chuckled and squirmed against her, and she knew that he enjoyed doing so. "Even if they told, anybody they could tell should be unable to see us." He thought shortly and returned to the prior topic. "So we're hidden now. We're related to khajiit in a way, but we look more like foxes than cats. Most of us keep to ourselves and our villages. Some go and wander the world unseen, see what there is to see, and then come back and tell everybody so we can try to know what the rest of the world is like."

"That sounds like a lonely life."

"Well, we have all of us, so it's not lonely. We stay hidden and do our own thing."

"How are you like khajiit though?"

He flicked an ear. "Well, in that we're fuzzy, and have tails, and ears, and muzzles. And people try to do bad things to us too, just like they sometimes try to do to khajiit."

"It's the curse of being fuzzy."

"Too true." He finished grooming the back of her head. "We should head onward and keep moving while we have day. I think I have a general idea of where we are, so we should reach the end of the sloughmud by high sun."

She carefully climbed out of the nest and stretched fully, then groomed and smoothed her fur. "I miss my clothing and armor."

He looked a little guilty at having enjoyed her closeness without her clothing, but not too guilty. "We can get armor for you at my den, but there's not much between here and there. I'm hoping to make it there by the middle of tomorrow." He rubbed his belly. "We'll also need to find more to eat. This bough hasn't been stocked or used in a while." The fox concentrated on the air in front of himself intently, then wilted and sighed. "Food is difficult enough to come by in the marsh as a whole. Here in the sloughmud, it's worse."

It was some work for Nyia trying to track back through the haze of the argonian poisons. "I do not know how long it has been since I have eaten. We will see how far we can go. What prey is there out here?"

"Bird is the only safe thing to eat, but hunting them can be a quick plunge into the depths of the deadly mud." He looked around, his ears perked intently. "Usually we build boughs near bird vines, but I don't hear any upset birds, so that's not a good sign. We can hope though, and I'll see if I spot any food caches too."

He walked out along the woven branches, got his bearings, and then climbed down into the foliage to resume traveling. "What brought you into the marsh anyway? This isn't even close to any of the rare trade routes."

"My estate had a ship going to Vvardenfell from the isle, but it ran aground. They demanded we continue before the ship was repaired, so I was escorting the caravan." Her ears flopped to the sides. "I lost them too."

"The savages we encountered are raiders and slavers, but not murderers. Meat is not as useful as a bound slave. Your people are very likely still alive." He missed a jump and scrambled to catch the branch, swinging about and ending up hanging upside down by his legs. "Still woozy from the poison," he said ruefully.

Bracing herself with her legs wide, she offered a paw. "Hopefully they are okay. I will send word when I can. At least the estate will know I am alive and the caravan was attacked."

Gannen reached up and accepted the offered assistance. "Were you the only guard?" He moved carefully to climb back onto the branch, trying not to be too distracted by the delightful view from below her.

"There were two others. But they took me when I was on watch alone. I was the only one who was not an elf, so I stood out," she said as she helped him up.

"The savages don't seem to like to harass elves," he admitted as he got his balance again. "Not sure why. Humans and orcs and everybody else are all fair game to them though." He perked an ear when he heard a pained squawk. "Oh! That might be a birdvine! This way!" He moved to the tree and changed direction slightly from their prior path.

"Bird... vine?"

"It eats birds."

"We're going to eat pre-eaten birds?!" she demanded.

"Definitely not. That's why getting there as soon as possible after a bird has been caught is important. A few hours and they're rotten."

He pulled to a stop and pointed to a mass of leafy vines showing off plump, white berries. "The berries are also delicious, which is why the birds get caught." He jumped to the other tree cautiously and examined the vine from a distance. A large, parrot-like bird was struggling weakly in the leaves.

"What a dreadful plant! I hope the bird is still safe to eat."

"The plant has grasping thorns that grow rootlets into the prey after it stops moving. It doesn't add any poisons, it just tired them out and wounds them worse when they try to escape. It's possible to get away, but not without substantial injury." He glanced at her. "If you're worried, we can stick to just eating the berries, as long as you're very careful picking them." A quick lift of one of the large leaves revealed wicked thorns.

"If you say it's safe to eat, I'll trust you. I'm very hungry."

The fox plucked a berry gingerly and split it in half down the center, nomming one portion before offering the other to her. She took it and ate it, then decided she liked the sweet flavor, as khajiit were prone to do. "Do we have any way to cook the bird?"

"Absolutely. We lilmothiit use magic for a lot of things, and heating food is something we learn very young. Some of us wonder if we aren't born knowing how to. Uncooked meat in the swamp is very dangerous. The only thing that worries me though is I don't have tools to get the bird out. Can't damage the plant because its juices other than the berries will hurt."

He continued to pluck berries from the edge of the vine and gave her one for each he nommed as he examined the bird. "It's easy to move deeper into the vine bunch, but the thorns stab you if you try to get out. Without tools, we can't get to that bird." He sighed and his ears wilted. "Berries it is then."

"The berries are good. No need to be sad. Your people have food and aren't much more than a day away, right?" She dropped to her haunches and ate the berries happily, her tail tucked up between her legs as she became self-conscious.

"Hopefully we'll reach my den by midday tomorrow," he replied, chewing a berry thoughtfully and fidgeting. His tail tucked across his own lap because her sense of physical propriety was leaking to him through the link and this confused him.

"Why do you look so confused?" she asked, her white ears perked as she watched him.

"Not sure why I'm feeling some things. Like liking these berries much more than usual, and wanting to cover my lap."

"Khajiit like sweet things!" she said with a trill, "and I really like them. I also feel undressed, so I'm covering myself. Remember the ritual. What I feel, you feel, kind of."

"Oh! That makes sense. Forgot about that. I hope I'm not sending too much over, otherwise you'll end up admiring yourself a lot." He focused on his own mentality and worked to overcome her feelings through the link so he could let his tail relax. He had no qualms about his state of dress and his extra-floofy tail was not nearly as flexible as hers, so it was a strain to hold it there.

"You're admiring me?" she asked, trying to hide behind eating a berry as both her albino-pink eyes and now-blushing-pink ears focused on him.

"Very striking, strong, and limber. I've never heard of khajiit with eyes like yours, or of khajiit as small and adorable as you. You're also a happy person. I can tell through the slave link. And you didn't get upset about the small space or having me against your back."

She licked her nose, which was turning even pinker than usual with her blush. "Maybe that is why I ended up with elves instead of khajiit in Elsweyr. Why would that upset me though? I am agreeable most of the time. You're soft and nice. Not like I was stuck with somebody who is mean and spiny."

His ear flicked. "Not all of me was soft at the time, and I've heard male khajiit are spiny there" he muttered, then stuffed a berry in his mouth to eat. "I think an imperial would be quite upset by comparison. Probably most men and mer would be. Your acceptance is admirable. And you're pretty."

She smiled and gulped, preening a little. Now much of her face was starting to turn more pink through the albino fur. "Thank you. You're handsome as well. Do you have a pretty vixen waiting for you at your den?"

He stretched, trying to be properly handsome as they both were feeding off the admiration loop. "Just my denmates. I'm not a sire, so I don't get to have cubs. I don't keep long term company."

Her ears wiggled. "Denmates... is... your estate? Your wife? Or... not being a sire means you're not married?"

"Denmates are my family, and a sire is a male who has been chosen by the elders to father young. Other males must not do so," he said, tilting his head.

Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "You do not get to fall in love? That's... um... sad."

"We can fall in love, and have mates. We just can't have cubs with them." He flicked an ear and his tail gave a wiggle. "Some people don't like to fall in love though, because sires are expected to perform for the whole den and other males often have a hard time when the cub is not theirs. So we find other things to fall in love with, like stories of the outside world. That's why our wanderers are so important to us."

"That still seems lonely. How do you not have cubs though?"

His ears wilted a little. "It's only lonely if we let it be lonely. Ummm... well, females are only fertile when they smell really nice, so it's easy to avoid." He brightened. "And wanderers are lucky, because we can only have cubs with female lilmothiit. Not with elves or khajiit or humans or hands." His ear flicked and then both of them laid to the side as he realized his last inclusion.

She braced herself on the branch as she laughed at that, covering her mouth with her free hand to not show off the half-chewed berry in it. There was a brief sensation of worry from him at the unbalance. A tumble into the muck below would be very bad. But he relaxed quickly, plucking a few more berries and offering half of them to her. The bird within was hidden and still now.

"Funny, yeah, but it's true. We say that sires have nothing but the vixen until she's got a cub. Everybody else has a paw or two." He beamed merrily. "And all the vixens who are not in season, and maybe friends or lovers from other races who we trust."

She accepted the berries and settled back on her spot. "Will you get in trouble for me seeing you?"

"Not at all. For all we know, maybe another foxen revealed us to you long ago." He popped the last of his berries in his mouth.

Her tongue got the last of the juice from her final berries off her fingers. She'd have liked to have meat, but it could wait as a reward for surviving all of this. Meat and a shirt. Shirt was good too. "Your kin are good with magic then?"

It was a bit of chewing on his part with his oversized mouthful before he could swallow. "Very much so, yes," he said, nodding avidly. "Magic runs in our very being. There are a lot of basic spells that all of us know. Some are better at it than others, of course. Even when we use weapons, people would probably call the weapons made of magic. Though there's not much that can see us, so not much to fight against. Hunting feels like cheating," he said with a chuckle. "The marsh provides a lot of food options, even if most of them want to kill you."

"Why stay here? Almost everywhere else in Tamriel isn't as dangerous."

"Easier to hide. Even though we can't be seen, things we do can after a while. The fewer people around, the less likely we are to be discovered. Very few people venture into the depths of the Black Marsh. Elsewhere is much more full of hunters and people overall."

"So I will be stuck in your den until this wears off?" she asked warily.

"I hope not. I'd rather go explore things with you than have you be stuck and upset."

"Good. We should get going then. Less stinky swamp awaits!"

He nodded. He looked a lot better now with food in him. His eyes were brighter and his overall demeanor was improved, and she could feel that. He was happier. There were still frequent trips up the trees to scout, which gave her a nice view of his underside every time he took one, but he didn't have to adjust course.

Then on one of his trips upward, he yipped in alarm and she could feel fear from him. "Come up, quickly!" he called down to her, even as he was climbing down and then down past the level they had been traveling on the branches.

Nyia fluffed up with the secondhand fear as she did as she was told, her claws helping her climb swiftly. "What?" she demanded, climbing as high as she felt she safely could. Her ears laid back and she hissed, though she was not not sure at what.

But as she climbed, she could see a darkening of the sky nearby. A brown haze rising from the trees, blown by the wind. The source was not near, but the line of smog was distinct.

Gannen returned shortly, a big clump of damp moss in each hand and his breath deep though he didn't seem out of breath. "A swamp burp," he said, pointing. "A great beast is moving through the sloughmud and releasing the gases from it. It's upwind of us, which is very bad. Get tangled up in the branches so you can't fall no matter how hard you try." Birds were fleeing from the blowing fumes as well.

He hooked himself into the branches, arms and legs twined about everything as he pulled branches closer and helped her as well. Then he handed her a clump of moss when they were both well-secured. "Breath really deep so you feel tingly and light-headed. The moment you get even a whiff of smell or a tinge of sting, close your eyes and hold your breath in. If you absolutely have no choice but to breathe before the wind blows it past, breathe through this. You'll know when it's clear. Even your ears will sting until it is."

Hyperventilating was almost like the blessed feeling of moon sugar, just not as pleasant. Gannen pointed as the cloud of gas drew closer and sucked in a deep breath, but gagged as a wisp went by ahead of the main body. He choked, but managed to get the last of a clean lungful, squeezing his eyes closed and laying his ears back as tightly as he could.

The tree itself seemed to groan as the insects in the branches scattered in chaos at the swath of gas. Nyia had never had moon sugar before, but she knew she didn't like the swamp gas at all. Even holding their breath as they were, the experience was absolutely miserable. The marsh was an unforgiving death trap.

It felt like forever, but finally the insects that remained calmed down and fell silent and the stinging that even affected their skin faded away. Gannen let his breath out with a gasp and a deep cough. That tiny wisp of fumes on his first breath made his lungs hurt, she could easily tell through the link.

Her own breath came out in a reactionary cough through the moss and she opened her eyes warily, fretting over the fox, worrying that he was not okay. He was woozy, and a bit under the weather, but his eyes glowed softly as he cast healing magic again, purging the poisons from himself.

"I need a bath," she decreed sullenly as she freed herself from the branches. "Are you going to be okay?"

He nodded, gulping air still as he untangled as well. "Not the worst I've been through." He was very unhappy with this and she felt it, so hopefully he wouldn't encounter things closer to worse. "We need to move quickly. The gas can linger in pockets and aggressive scavengers follow it."

She fought back her own coughs from the pain she got through the link, but she followed as they moved swiftly and finally felt more confident in her own lungs again. "I am kind of excited to meet your people," she said, trying to cheer him.

"It's a nice den, and it's outside the main muck, so much less that tries to kill you," he agreed. He had a worry in him, but he didn't voice it.

She followed quietly for a while, her ears and tail both showing her worry at the sensation she was getting from him. If she were human, she'd have quite a tough time, but as a little khajiit, she was keeping up and moving through the trees with him quite easily. "Since you can't hide it and I really don't want to upset you more... why are you worried?"

He glanced back and his ears laid back. "I forgot I can't hide feelings now. I worry because I realized my spell on me might have failed completely. If that happened, you won't be able to see my people and I'll have big problems."

His tail flicked and he shot up the tree to avoid saying more. "I see markers. We've made better time than I expected," he said when he returned.

Nyia was silent for only a short time as they continued. "Can't the spell be recasted?" she finally asked. She didn't know what it meant, but clearly it was upsetting him badly and so she was compelled to try to understand.

His ears wilted. "It cannot. If it's broken in any way, I will become an outcast." There was substantially more that he didn't say, but fretted over.

The khajiit caught up enough to put a hand on his back comfortingly. She was angry though, and trying to hide that now.

"You're not angry at me, are you?" he asked, shying away as he picked it up through the slave link.

Her ears flipped and twisted around, then back again. "No. I... have a history of being kicked out of a home for things I can't control. For a people who want to stay hidden, they sure sound like they're quick to throw you out to the world to be found."

"Ah," he said softly, his ears wilting in his concern for her now. "Because they need to stay hidden, they can't risk having somebody around who can't hide. At least my den doesn't crush muzzles." He shuddered at the thought of that.

She was quiet for a while, regretting asking now. "I am not a mage... if I were..."

Gannen patted her shoulder gently. "It's okay. The worst my den will do it strip my tail fur and evict me."

"You're worth more than that," she said sullenly.

"I'm linked to you, so even if my spell is working, they might make me leave until that fades. Having a khajiit that anybody wandering by can see for too long would be similar to having me visible there."

She said nothing, ears back as she stewed and grumbled.

The grumpiness was starting to get to him too, so he finally took action. He jumped to lead to the next tree, but when she jumped, he spun and caught her. His warm tongue graced her nose with a gentle lick and he held her close. "I've been looking for a reason to do something different. Now I'll get to go out and see the things and bring back stories, so this works out well. Especially since I'll have the best of company."

Nyia fluffed in his arms and her ears went up when he licked her nose. The growling anger was instantly gone. She licked his nose in return and held him. "Then you shouldn't worry about it."

He hmmrrred quietly, enjoying holding her. She could tell. "I still hope my spell isn't broken though. It would change everything a lot. Everywhere we go, I would not be able to be hidden at all and I know that could be an issue for my people. With a trimmed tail, people will probably assume I'm an odd-faced khajiit."

Her tongue graced his cheek. "Or use a hooded cloak. They work wonders."

He chuckled. "True, true. It would take getting used to having my ears squished by a hood." He began grooming her face absently.

She purred, enjoying the contact, but then realized they were not going anywhere. "We... should keep moving at least until we are there."

His jump was like she woke him from a daze. The feedback loop from the link was distracting at times. "Yes, we should. It shouldn't take as long as I thought, either. We might even find some of my people out here as we get closer." He gave her one last lick, unable to help himself, then set her down and started onward again.

"I hope they are as nice as you are," she said with a happy sigh, the anger from moments before completely gone.

"Most of my den are nice," he said, his tail counterbalancing him as he jumped. "The less-nice ones go to the few dens that are grumpy."

"There are other dens?"

He looked back over his shoulder and nodded. "At least a dozen within three days' run."

"What are your people going to do when there are too many to keep hidden?"

"Hopefully then we will also have enough of us that we don't need to stay hidden." He perked an ear, then went to the trunk of the tree, climbing it to scout before he returned. "There is a major tree path just south of us and I hear a group from another village on it. We can try to reach them."

Nyia couldn't see anything through the thick foliage. "Will they be nice to you?"

"I don't recognize them, but there are both males and females, so it's probably a trade group, so they are probably nicer people." It was difficult to say how far away he'd seen them, since he was up top to peek and visibility in the foliage was nearly zero. Then his ear flicked in realization. "Actually... come with me," he said, climbing back up the trunk.

She followed, her sharp claws making it easy, and enjoyed the view on the way up. When they cleared the top of the canopy sufficiently, he pointed to an area about a quarter mile away. All of the tree branches were firmly woven together in a long line that could only be seen from above, and a group of about two dozen lilmothiit were moving along the stable path.

"Can you see them?" he asked worriedly.

"Yes," she answered, unsure if that meant it was good or bad.

He yipped happily and hugged her, the sound attracting the attention of the passing group even from the distance they were away. "This is good! It means there's a better chance my spell is still working, since you can see others of us." Some of the group in the distance peered in their direction for a while, but they all resumed moving.

She purred and trilled happily at his relief, snuggling with him carefully in the high branches and licking his nose. "Good. I do not want to be a reason for you to be banished. Do you want to say hello to them?"

"You would not be the reason. The lizards would be. Let's go meet with them. They might have clothing for you, and they'll hopefully have some noms."

She purred at the idea of better food and rubbed her cheek on his shoulder. "Lead the way."

He launched a series of yips and yelps in the direction of the group and some of them responded in kind. To anybody else, it sounded like no more than animal calls. He nodded and climbed down, taking a moment to enjoy being distracted when she did as well, and headed to intercept the travelling group.

"We don't have anything to trade for clothing though," she said, fretting.

"I know, but we look out for our own too. At least a little. Some of the time. I think." He got a little worried now.

"If they can't help, then we will just continue on. We're not too far from your den now, right?" She paused as she realized what she'd seen from a distance. "You do have something at your den, I hope."

"We do, though we don't normally wear much. The swamp makes everything fall apart fast and cloth collects poisons. It's much easier to wash fur."

Another jump and some walking along the branches brought them to the edge of the woven area, so Gannen climbed carefully. A female foxen had stayed to see if they showed up, and the moment Gannen climbed up onto the path she yipped excitedly. "It's the Gannen that the other den lost!" she exclaimed, pouncing on him and literally picking him up and throwing him over her shoulder.

Nyia could tell through the link that he wasn't expecting such a thing and wasn't thrilled with the event. Her ears fell to the side. "Hi, could you maybe not do that?"

The vixen spun. "But it's the Gannen!" she exclaimed as her prize wriggled and tried to disengage without becoming violent. "You're a khajiit, not a Gannen," she said plainly. It was silly for the white cat to think otherwise.

"Can I have him back?" Nyia asked, fluffing in distress as the rest of the group paused at the commotion and several started to head in their direction.

"Put that fox down this instant, Dill," a commanding - if aging - voice demanded. The vixen froze and promptly set Gannen back on his feet.

The rest of the party was heading in their direction now and a white-muzzled vixen had just saved Nyia's fox from who knew what. The elder padded up and look Gannen over, then turned her attention to Nyia. "Sorry about that. Dill is very enthusiastic."

"Thank you," Nyia said, smiling without showing her teeth and bowing rigidly. Her hopes fell as she noted that only the guards of the trader group were wearing anything at all, and they were wearing very form-fitting flexible armor.

The elder looked them over. "Dill says you are Gannen. Her nose is always spot on, so you must be. And you're a very small, white khajiit. Are you okay? The elders at Ilinur said you went missing weeks ago."

"That explains why my holes are blocked," Gannen murmured. "I think we're okay. We were both captured by tribal argonians, but we escaped. Do you have any food you can spare? We had some leftover jerky at a bough last night and nothing but birdvine berries this morning." Nyia poked him lightly and he amended, "Oh, and any body coverings?"

"We can share food of course, but we don't have too much in the way of covering," the elder said.

"Important to her, it seems," Gannen offered, pointing to Nyia. "Anything you can spare would be appreciated."

Some of the traders went into bags to get some leaf-wrapped food things out and one went into a different pack and found their largest piece of unused cloth in the form of uncut bandages. Nyia managed to make due and cover her lower quarters, though her fox was sad to lose the view.

"Thank you," the khajiit said softly. "If I can find a way to repay your kindness, I will."

They all looked genuinely confused at her statement, but the elder smirked a little and said, "Just make sure he gets back home safely." Then she smiled. "There are few of us left around, so we take care of each other and friends," she explained.

Nyia stood straighter now that she had something to wear. "On my life, he will make it home safely," she said, bowing again. Her accent was altmer rather than kahjiiti, She was hugely more comfortable now. Her nearly-flat chest didn't provide much for people to gawk over, and now she was done worrying about her nethers.

Gannen shouldered the small pack of food they had provided. "Thank you for the help."

Dill bounced over to Gannen and looked like she was ready to pick him up again. "I take the Gannen to his den now?"

Nyia's whiskers wiggled as she watched this and became protective. "Why are you so eager to take him? I am able to take him. Is there a reward or something?"

The elder vixen laughed and drew Nyia and Gannen aside. "Dill is the nickname she chose for herself. Her brains got a bit pickled by poisons in the swamp when she was a cub. She's not the brightest, but she's a sweetheart and a good fighter. She just knows his den lost him and wants him back, so she wants to make them happy."

She turned her attention to Dill. "They'll get back fine, Dill. We need you to protect us on our journey, remember?"

"Oh, yeah!" Dell exclaimed, perking. "Protect you!" She scrambled to block Gannen and Nyia from the rest of her group, grring softly.

"Not against them, dear. That's Gannen, remember?"

"Oh..." Dill said, confused for a moment. "Oh, okay." She relaxed and inspected the back of her hand closely.

Nyia's ears wilted. She felt sad for the vixen. "Thank you for waiting for us, Dill. You have important work to do, so we will not keep you."

"You won't keep me?" Dill's eyes went wide. "Don't give me away!"

Nyia paused. "Your group will keep you, I will thank you."

Dill brightened. "You're welcome!" she exclaimed so loudly she was nearly yelling. Her exuberance startled something nearby and she perked at the sound. "Get a bird?"

"No, Dill. Walk with the group," the elder said patiently.

"Okay!!!" Dill dropped to all fours and waited, bouncing on the branch with her tail wagging side to side.

"You two stay safe," the elder vixen said with a sage nod. "Get your khajiit friend somewhere safe too. I doubt she wants to hang around with figments too long. She probably has important places to be." She turned and addressed her group. "Come on, excitement's over. We have hours before the rest pod, so let's get moving."

Nyia looked at her fox as they headed off. "Figments?" she asked, looking around at the braided branches that made a travelway along the tree tops.

"We hide from most folks, so if anybody else saw you with one of us, you'd look like you were talking to yourself." He looked along the treeway. "We'll use this path. It will make travel much easier. Even we have a hard time spotting them from a distance, so we're lucky we found it."

She followed, much more confident now that her mind was at ease. "Being with a figment will be worth it," she told herself quietly with a happy trill.

Soon enough the treeway dipped into the foliage, becoming completely enclosed in the leaves with a stable, woven branch surface to travel on. Gannen dropped to all fours to travel more quickly, assuming she would do the same, and because of her moon phase, she was able to as well. The tunnel was not completely stable, being in the trees, but her claws let her grip and keep balance.

The fox was apparently quite used to the springy woven branches they ran on as he seemed to flow with the odd movements and twists of the wood beneath his feet. He was in a very good mood now, tail high and a bounce in his step even beyond the bounciness of the branches. "At this rate we'll make it to a rest station shortly. We can eat there, then only a few hours' run left."

She was happy too, though unfamiliarity with her surroundings kept her from showing it outwardly. "Your people must be very clever to live out here and survive as you do."

He looked over his shoulder for a moment, not missing a step. "We try to think we are. Maybe we are, maybe we aren't. We just do what we can to survive and maybe eventually come back into the world."

"The world would be greater with your kin here. Fresh minds with fresh solutions. Perhaps invent a faster boat or something... just saying." She pranced a little bit but stopped as the springy surface made her unsure of her footing again.

He felt her uncertainty and moved to run alongside her. "Maybe. Our biggest worry is our hiding spell. It would be coveted by many and they may do things to try to steal it. As long as we are hidden, we choose who we interact with."

The fox observed her gait for a short time, then moved over and nudged her with his shoulder lightly as they ran. "Jump as high as you can without changing your forward movement."

She eyed him briefly, considering the odd request, then jumped while she ran, reaching an impressive height, making ready to adjust for the springy landing. But he dove in under her as she went up and she landed atop his back instead. He continued running, carrying her as if this were an any-day thing but inside he was gleeful at the success of his maneuver.

Nyia didn't expect to land on him and was careful not to cling so much that she clawed him. She purred, perhaps at his success, or perhaps at his internal glee. "So clever," she trilled softly in his ear.

His tail flicked up and fluffed her back end since she was on all fours atop him. "Maybe," he said, admitting to nothing. Despite the bounciness of the branches, his body stayed stable and easy to ride, only barely swaying on occasion as his arms and legs adjusted for all the motion.

"I'm sorry I run so poorly on the bouncy branches," she said. "You do not have to do this, you know."

"And miss having you this close?"

She trilled and giggled at the same time, rubbing her cheek on the back of his neck. "Better than being carried like a sack of flour by Dill."

He nodded avidly. "Very much better! I could carry you like a sack of flowers if you prefer, but I think you'll like riding me better."

"Flour. Not flowers."

"One flower? That must be a really big plant or a really small sack." His ears perked as he looked at subtle changes in the treeway and he slowed, then scooted into a small, nearly-hidden offshoot.

"Not one flow-EEE!!" she exclaimed, starting to correct him but being interrupted as he gave a bounce and a buck and dislodged her from his back, sending her flying into the air without warning. But he kept going too and twisted beneath her so he hit the soft foliage and moss of the large rest area first and she landed against his front. His arms wrapped around her as they came to a sudden, but comfortable halt.

"Rest area!" he decreed, giving her a chance to absorb what just happened.

She was fluffed with surprise from the brief second of being airborne, but soon cuddled into him. "I'm not tired though," she teased, resting her head on his chest with a purr.

He chuckled and sat up just enough to pull the small sack off his shoulder. "True, but we can eat food that's better for us than just birdvine berries." He pulled his legs up so she could sit on them comfortably and smoothed down her fluff with his hand, stroking her where she wasn't covered by cloth now. "And a rest stop can be used for other things than just resting. It's very comfortable, after all," he murmured with happy ears.

Her ears went to the side to hide the pink of embarrassment at her temptation from the offer. He was probably feeding off her feelings for such a decree. She tried to discreetly get comfortable in his lap and changed the subject. "Lilmothiit cuisine! Tell me what we have today."

He peeked into the bag. "Nombars! Ummm..." he extracted seven flat, long objects about the size of a small candy bar that were wrapped in some kind of plant part and sniffed at each one, setting them into short stacks. "These two have no meat at all. These two have fruit and meat. These two have sweet meat, and that one has spicy meat." He peered at them for a moment. "Whoever made them needs more practice."

Khajiit ears perked at the words "sweet" and "meat" together. "Sweet meats please!" she exclaimed, leaning forward until her nose almost touched his and looking into his green deeply.

Gannen licked her lips and nose with a slow lick, then gave her one he'd identified as sweet meat and took a fruit and meat one for himself. He pulled the wrapping off his and a delightful aroma escaped.

"Why more practice?" She was surprised at how heavy the bar was for its size.

"They shouldn't smell like much," he said.

The food inside the wrapper was a chunk that seemed unidentifiable, but there were tiny pieces of what looked like plants and meats in it. The fox took only a tiny nibble off the corner of his, then chewed happily. He swallowed much more than he should have for the size of the piece he bit off.

"Take teensy little bites," he cautioned her. "It's a whole meal magically squished and preserved."

Nyia inspected it, never having eaten magic food before, and took a cautious nibble. Meaty and sweet and very delicious. If lilmothiit contributed nothing else to the world as a whole, just these travel rations would be worth it. No dried meat jerky or tough chunks of stale bread here. She couldn't identify the meat itself, but it was very tasty. The bite seemed to melt in her mouth and indeed got about three times bigger as she chewed, so she had to swallow lest her over-rambunctious bite overflow her mouth.

"You took a little too big of a bite," he told her, "so pause after half the bar to let your tummy adjust." He rubbed her belly.

She started to take another nibble, then froze in surprise at the sudden tummy rub. Blinking several times as she tried to understand it, she finally let out an explosive purr and leaned back against him. She'd never had a tummy rub before. Her enjoyment fed through to him of course, so he rubbed more, leaning back a little so he could nibble with one hand and rub with the other.

"Do lilmothiit normally rub tummies?" she asked in a purring daze, wrapping her bar back up with only a quarter eaten and just enjoying the fingers rubbing through her silky, white fur.

"Only people we like," he admitted, somewhat in a daze himself from the link. "With people we really like, we rub other things too," he said with a wink as he wrapped the rest of his own bar back up, set both back into the pack with one hand, and then was able to use both to rub her belly.

She squirmed for a moment and finally stopped him, holding his hand still and panting softly. "The link makes this all very intense," she murmured.

His ears went to the side and he nodded. "It does," he agreed, relaxing. "Gives the bond a good attribute, but also makes it easier to lose ourselves in it."

Snuggling up to him, she kneaded and purred more deeply. "I'd rather be lost with you where it's safe. And after a bath."

"True," he admitted, nodding agreement, though they both were strongly tempted otherwise. He licked her cheek and gave her a warm hug. "We will pause for half an hour so we don't run on a full stomach, then we will go. We are only a few hours from my den." He set his chin atop her head and relaxed onto his back, tugging her with him. He considered the rest area safe enough.

"How will your people know if the spell on you is broken?" she asked, closing her eyes and just enjoying his soft fur.

"Hmm?" He flicked an ear. "It's not, otherwise that group would have noticed. I approached them because you could see them, so a foxen allowed you to see us. Maybe I did when I was drugged, or because of the link. If you couldn't see them but could see me, that would mean my spell was definitely broken. So I took a chance, and it's fine." His fingers curled languidly against her side. He was not at all worried anymore.

She purred at the happy news. "Good. I don't want you to lose your family." Then she had a sad as she realized that her own group was still missing and she had no idea what happened to them.

"I'm sure your people are fine. You made it sound as if you were picked off unawares."

"If they arrive at the estate, I will have to head back and let them know I am not dead. If they don't make it back and I arrive home, the estate will be very angry at me," she said with a shudder.

He winced. "I'll hope they arrived safely, then. We will need to make sure we travel in that direction to check."

She chuckled, not letting the foreboding possible future get her down. "Are you sure? You could be walking into a bee hive of angry altmer."

"Who can't see me unless I let them," he pointed out. Then he became more somber. "Will they demand you stay if they are angry? Will we be stuck with angry elves the whole time we are together?"

"No. I am not estate blood family. They really do not care what I do as long as I do not shame their estate. I'm out here because guard duty is dangerous and they don't want to risk the mer."

"So they sent the most skilled person," he observed. "Mer are odd," he said, licking her ear.

"I am skilled!" she said with a happy trill at having this realized. "Hopefully they are fine." She was silent for a few minutes as she rested with him, starting to form a new worry. "I hope you do not get homesick wandering around with me."

Gannen licked her ear gently. "Lilmothiit were made to travel fast and far. That's why we run so well and get around so easily. I think it's a good way to meet nice people too."

She got off him and stretched. "Oh? How many have you found?"

"I haven't been wandering," he admitted. "At least not further than for normal den tasks. But I've already found one!"

She adjusted her cloth wrap and looked around the rest stop. "Is somebody in charge of telling the den who can and can't wander? Like saying which males can impregnate females?"

"The elders usually say who should wander, and anybody but sires and females are allowed to, but most people don't unless the elders tell them to. It's dangerous out in the world." He pulled the pack on and dropped to all fours. "Hop on!"

She got onto his back, careful of the pack. "So lilmothiit never dedicate themselves to one person?"

He adjusted his stance and padded back out into the treeway. "Some do, but it's rare. Cubs are a different thing. Sires are the fathers of all cubs, and then cubs are raised in a group of about a year's worth becoming denmates."

He started to trot, then run again when he was warmed up. "It's up to individuals. Every race out there has people who test the waters or just play around and have fun. With some races, it's more fun and less settling down, and with other races fun is frowned on." He was trying to sound like he knew what he was talking about, but it was all book knowledge, not practical.

"I suppose that's true. Altmer are very rigid in public and call it misbehavior if they get caught with others. I am told khajiit are less rigid." She held on, enjoying being close and not in the way.

"They say imperials are very proper and nords are very drunk," he agreed, nodding. "But they are still individuals. So there are probably sober nords and weird imperials and rigid khajiit and bouncy altmer out there somewhere." He picked up his pace. "Sires are the least lucky. They aren't allowed to settle down because they are so important. Many of us foxen who settle down do so with other races, I hear. When people want to settle down, they usually want somebody to themselves. Having a lover who must bear cubs with another specific male puts a crimp in that idea."

Nyia listened to all of this, seeming disappointed. "What do the elders look for when choosing who gets to have cubs?"

He shrugged. "I have no idea, and I haven't asked them. They don't all match a specific thing either. They're not all strong or a certain color or muzzle shape or parents or anything." He paused in speaking. "What is bringing you down? I feel the negative emotions in there."

"I prefer to see freedom and equality and choice for all people," she said, licking the back of his neck. "I am sad that you do not really have that."

In mid-stride, his hand reached back to pat her leg very briefly between steps. "In history class, they teach us that we had only three dens before we started siring. The elders consolidated us to two dens and said who would be sires, and as a result now we have dozens and dozens of dens and many more of us in each den."

He bounced on a few steps. "I fall toward the ground if I'm not on it. You could say I don't have the freedom to be away from the ground much. But it's better than floating away and never being seen again."

That brought a smile to her face, since it was an apt analogy. "This extra control and planning... is it because of the limited resources in the swamp?"

"I don't think so. We have far, far more than enough to take care of all of us. I don't really know what it's for though." He was distinctly embarrassed. "I didn't pay attention during that part of history class."

She licked his neck again. "I am just curious. No offense intended, really."

His tail flipped up to pat her back. Then he came to a split in the leafy tunnel and headed to the right in a smaller tunnel. "This is good. We will be past the sloughmud soon now that we're in the treeway. We can go to the ground then, or take the treeway to its end near my den. The treeway is much, much safer though."

"We can stay up here. I am enjoying this," she trilled, petting his shoulder. "I think I understand why things are this way for your kin. I hope someday they can come out from hiding."

"It probably won't be in my lifetime. We have things we developed that people would really want and we could not control the spread of knowledge for..." He heard a sharp yip ahead and stopped talking, slowing to a careful walk. "I expect if other races found out, they'd try to take it by force, so we need enough of us to protect ourselves from everybody," he said in a very quiet voice. Then he made a quiet, modulated whine.

His whine was answered by a sharp bark ahead again, so he walked very carefully, his ears scanning everywhere. "We are near outsiders," he said very quietly. "Imperials. This is near the edge of the sloughmud, so there is at least some safe land below." He wilted. "I can drop you off with them if you prefer not to go to my den with me."

She licked the back of his head. "I said I would get you home safely. I gave my word," she whispered in his ear. "I'm just starting to get to know you. I'm not ready to go yet. Plus we still need somewhere safe and a bath," she said merrily, giving his sides a squeeze with her legs.

Gannen brightened distinctly, his mood and step both lightening. He continued walking carefully and silently and soon rounded a curve to see a vulpine tail sticking out of the side of the treeway and into the tunnel. Its owner was in the foliage beside the treeway.

"Scouts report this path becomes impassable too, sir," an imperial said below.

"That is unacceptable! The slime can't be that bad."

"With due respect sir, you haven't seen it first-hand. One person stepped on the edge of it. His boot dissolved in seconds and his leg was going shortly after, but it didn't matter because the gas it released had him dead even faster."

"Call the scouts back then and we'll check further to the east. Damn this swamp."

Nyia stayed silent and listened, her feline curiosity apparent through the link as her ears perked, listening to the conversation below. The foxen who was hiding in the wall peeked out at them and nodded acknowledgement of their presence before silently returning attention to the people below.

The chatter from the humans had ceased and the footfalls of heavy armor were apparent as somebody blew hard on a whistle. It was a series of tweets that were answered by similar code on a whistle in the distance to the south, the same direction they were traveling.

Soon afterward, Gannen picked up speed. "I hope they're not trying to find us again."

"They will probably leave. If they really wanted to look for something, they would have mages here. They are on uneven footing though. This is argonian land. Probably they are looking for a place to build a hidden fort so if war starts up again, they will have a foothold."

He smirked and laughed. "The last time they built a fort here, it sank into the swamp. So they built a new one on top of it. It sank too. So they built a third one. That one was raided by argonian savages. It burned down, fell over, and sank into the swamp. They didn't give up though, and built a fourth one. It stayed up. But all the people in it died of swamp fume poisoning."

"Just saying, from a tactical standpoint. The do not have enough mages with them to find any mythical fluffyfox tribes, hidden temples, or lost treasure."

"How can you tell how many mages they have?" he asked curiously.

"All college mages are the worst. They feel like they are only second to the emperor himself. If there was a mage there, they'd be giving their opinion on everything, asking lots of questions, coming up with stupid ideas... We would have heard them talking about trying to freeze or burn or zap the goop, not just the soldier dying."

She sighed wearily. "There are a few mages in my estate."

He laughed. "I see. Well, huh. I guess that shows more why we hide from people. Soldiers would find our hiding spells dangerously useful. I dread to think what a mage would make of our nombars."

"Your nombars would be sold to every military in the world," she said plainly.

"Yeah, but if they could hide with our spell... soldiers that could not ever be seen or detected unless they allowed it? That would not be good."

"Your people will have to tackle that when they choose to emerge. There will always be war. War never changes."

He mehed, displeased with the talk of war. "War is what killed off most of my people. I don't like war." He finally resumed full-speed.

"I am not a fan. I turned down the estates offer to become a soldier. It's still something I was taught, though."

His ears perked. "Sounds like things are still messy even since the plague. We get information when wanderers return and tell stories, but that's not a full picture of things." He bounced his feet on alternating sides, though he kept his body stable. "So how does that work, a khajiit brought up with mer? Does it make a difference to you?"

"How so? Neither want me, but both are part of me. In the end I have no future with the altmer. I cannot own land or have a title. My family takes care of me..." she said, but her ears wilted some. "But it all started with me being brought home as a novelty. They accept me." She was silent for a moment. "Most of the time at least," she said super-quietly.

"Okay, so a little of both and not really fully either. Khajiit like something called moonsugar for example, and you don't talk like them. But also not really altmer." He took a left down a much smaller tunnel that curved around a lot more, weaving through more variety of trees. The tunnel was also much smaller, made for foxes on all fours. She had to lean down on him so the tips of her ears did not hit leaves and twigs in passing, but she was fine with a reason to be closer.

"The altmer told me to stay away from it, so I have. Khajiit that I have met tell me it is a gift from the moons, and all khajiit should be happy. I told them I was happy enough without it."

"It... comes from the sugar cane along the topal sea," he said, trying to remember his lessons. "They say nobody is sure about the silver tides, but the khajiit say it is the blessing of the moons to make them happy. The blessing makes the sugar from those canes into a drug that khajiit react to very well, but other people have problems with it. Worse, the dunmer distilled it with nightshade to make very bad stuff."

"Skooma. It's illegal almost everywhere. I know of the moons some too. The khajiit I met told me it was important for me to know. But the estate demands I follow the altmer gods."

He dropped low on his legs and arms to squeeze through a partially-damaged section of tunnel without brushing her off his back. "Odd. The daedra tamper with everything a lot, but I've not heard of khajiit or altmer or human or other gods taking direct influence on things." His ears flicked. "How does that god thing work, then?"

Nyia considered as she held on. "It... is a lot like magic. If a mage does not truly believe he can do the thing, he will likely fail. I believe in the gods and so when I pray to them, I will get their boon. If I didn't believe, nothing would happen."

"But there have to be limits. Somebody could believe they were invincible and pray and still get mauled by a beast anyway."

She giggled. "No, they do not give you wishes. They just give you their support."

"What does their support do?"

"It supports you."

"Does it keep you warm in the cold or help you in fights?"

"No, it just supports you."

"How?"

"With... support." She fell silent, thinking.

His ears went to the side in contemplation as he slowed to pass another damaged section safely. "It sounds complicated," he finally decided. Then he came to a stop so fast it nearly dislodged both the pack and his khajiit. He reared up enough to keep her on his back, then dropped back to all fours.

Now his ears were perked and his nose working furiously. He made a soft hsst sound and looked at the walls to either side, backing away as silently as he could. "Off, careful. Tay clofe," he whispered, avoiding sibilance that carried.

Slipping off his back, she perked her ears and sniffed. There was the scent of humans in the damaged section of the tunnel and more from up ahead. There was also some relatively-stealthy human presence in the trees ahead, though not nearly as stealthy as either of them.

Gannen took her hand and very carefully moved into the nearby foliage, pulling her along. The human scent and sound was drawing closer. Nyia's ears flicked back at the unsettling thought of how close they must be to the hidden den. Probably nearly on top of it. It made her worry but it also made her angry as the fox took her to safety. The humans must have found the hidden tree paths, and that would open up the potential in their mind that the tunnels had to be made by something, even if they could not see the something. Imperials would see it as a resource to be found and claimed from savages.

Her fox motioned for her to wait as he went down and peeked upside down beneath the foliage. Now that she knew what to listen for, she heard the intermittent fox sounds of lilmothiit communicating wordlessly all around.

He returned and stuck his nose almost into her ear, murmuring, "They cannot see us, but they could see you. There are mages using life detection, which can't pierce our spell. There are enough other animals around that you will not look like a person to them."

The humans climbing through the tunnel were close enough to be heard.

"...a good idea."

"Nonsense! It's obvious this was created by something intelligent. Find the end of this trail and we find something useful."

"I'm barely even able to keep my balance on this. Are you sure somebody built this?"

"Of course, you fool. Orders are orders, so we find the end of this."

Two more foxen joined Gannen and Nyia, accepting immediately that Nyia was with him, though they kept an eye on her. She tried to stay as small and curled up as possible so her form would look like an animal. She flicked an ear at the other lilmothiit who joined them. She fretted, but she hoped the foxes thought of this and made their treeways with a way to solve this problem.

The two new arrivals made a very few small sounds to Gannen and he nodded, his ears wilting. He caught Nyia's attention and made a big show of drawing in a deep breath and holding it, so she did too.

"Look, it looked like a tunnel, but here it's not. It's not even very stable and doesn't look safe to travel in."

"Nonsense! Anything smart enough to make something this complex would make it sta-A-AAAAAAAA!"

The voice fell away to the ground through the snapping and woosh of branches and the scream cut off instantly as the mage hit the deep much and sunk instantly into the deadly goop.

"Gah! Get back, go, go, that'll make a bunch of gas!"

The other two humans scrambled back away from the drop.

Cutting the treeway had occurred to her. The lilmothiit had many choices for defense. They had to keep their people safe and the jungle was full of astounding ways for snooping people to die. But her ears were flat and her eyes squeezed shut. Death was never a pleasant thing.

One of the two that had joined them made a soft cluck with his tongue as he was peeking below the tree foliage. Gannen let out his breath. "It's safe, we're upwind," he murmured to Nyia. There was a crack and snapping branches about a hundred feet away and the remaining two were dumped into the muck below. The screams didn't cut off in the shallower sloughmud, and their disturbing nature definitely spoke of the doom the substance carried.

Gannen looked at one of the other foxes. "More?"

"Five," she responded, pointing in the direction they had been traveling to. "Ground. Waiting on these. Stay here." She slunk into the trees as a lot more yip and yap and growl communication was going on now, blending in well with the normal jungle sounds. The second fox stayed with them.

Nyia was more pale than her white fur should make her. The screams and obviously-agonizing deaths upset her greatly and she whispered a prayer to Arkay that their souls would not carry the pain of the final moments with them.

Gannen was displeased by the situation as well, but she could sense a feeling of resignation in him. This was the only way to keep their entire race safe. Didn't mean he had to like it though. "Usually the screams will discourage the ones who are waiting from trying to check. Others are closing off the path for some distance just in case. We will need to wait for the imperials to move on before we can continue safely."

"I understand... I just..." She sat and pulled her stifles up to her chest, her ears back as she was distraught by this.

"It's not fun to hear, I know," he said, hugging her to console both of them. "Everybody always hopes treeway guard duty will be boring. None of us like doing that."

Wrapping her arms around him, she buried her face in the fur of his chest. She had killed before, but she never liked doing it. When she had no choice but to kill, she made sure it was as quick and painless as possible. Though there were poisons in the swamp that led to a slow, painful death over days or weeks as they ate away your insides, the screams here told of intense agony even though it was short-lived.

Gannen worked hard to not go into a loop of grief with her, since they both felt the other through the link. Though the events disturbed him greatly, he held her and worked to stay strong so it would not drag them both into misery.

She took a deep breath and finally pushed past it herself. It was better to have the arrogant imperials die than his family. She stopped herself from licking him and petted him instead. They were both filthy with swamp and it didn't taste good. He was consoled by the petting and he returned the attention.

All this time there were regular lilmothiit calls through the trees and finally one of them caused Gannen to react, his ears perking. "The rest are heading off," he said, translating for her. "They convinced themselves it's a false trail."

"Just some space that happens to go from tree to tree. Luckily they did not find a rest stop or sleeping place," she said, continuing to pet him so they both felt better.

He murred still. "Out here where the treeways run over accessible ground the tunnels are small and easy to manipulate. It only widens and has boughs and stops when it reaches areas that it cannot be accessed from below. Watchers only need to keep track of the smaller branches here."

She stood on the branch she was on and stretched. "It is a good system," she said, but her ears were still back and her tail was tucked as she looked to try to find the walkway again.

Gannen hugged her from behind, eliciting a small touch to his cheek from her. "Not good, but less-bad I think than the alternatives."

The other fox present had his ears laid back too. "Always so sad," he said with a soft whine.

"We will get back onto the treeway beyond the section we closed off," Gannen said, starting to move through the foliage, his tail flicking to lead her. The path had already been re-stabilized, so they were not in danger of falling. It was difficult to tell how Gannen knew where the path was, since the tunnel was filled with thick foliage now. Soon enough they got past the closed section and he dropped to all fours for her to mount him again.

When she got on his back, he reached back to pat her thigh lightly and started running again. The khajiit still had to stay close against him, but the treeway was still the fastest and safest.

"About five more minutes," he announced when he recognized a marker.

"Good. I hope we can get a bath," she whispered, working to avoid anything that would distract him from himself.

"We'll definitely need one. I think I still have exploded-argonian bits in my fur."

Sure enough, about four minutes later he took a sparse ramp down to the ground. It was interesting to see how he placed his hands and feet on branches that looked nothing like a ramp to an unwitting observer. Without a pause, he took off at high speed to the south, running through the edge of the swamp and into area that was more like forest with drier ground. Not that that should fool anybody. It was still part of the Black Marsh and still quite deadly to anybody who was not alert and cautious.

He knew the flora and fauna very well and at one point skidded to a halt and backed away from something that wasn't apparent. He gave it wide berth as he circled around, pointing out the inch-long bug in the distance. He was hyper-focused on his surroundings, because the swamp killed the unwary with no remorse.

"What is it?" she asked curiously.

"A skralk. Very nasty little bug. Really aggressive and it has a lethal contact poison. It wants whole bodies to lay its eggs on."

It was just after high noon when he slowed in an area that didn't look any different from what they'd been passing through for the past several minutes. Massive trees grew from hilly protrusions. Branches drooped nearly to the ground and tangled roots created maze-like structures. However there was one tell. The subtle scent of lilmothiit was present.

"We're here," he announced.

Now do this...

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