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"In war, the only men busier than the warriors are the healers," it was ancient saying. One of many, Paal's mentor had taught him. With his entire body aching and his clothes and fur soaked in the blood of dozens of men, the rabbit and healer knew it to be true. Another battle, another glorious victory and another week of hell for the healers.

The smell was bad, as was the feeling of his fur matting with the blood of those he had saved and those he had tried to save. Fathers, sons, lords, peasants, strong, weak, fair and foul. They were all equal in his eyes, patients in need and he did his best to help. Some he saved, others he failed. Like the soldier lying in front of him, a black rabbit, a gold necklace indicated some nobility or links to such.

He had been in one of the many attacks on 'the hill'. A stupid mound of earth that was all important to soldiers and generals, so much blood that Pall wished the entire world was flat. The Lions had it, and his people had wanted it. The young corpse in front of him had been slashed in the stomach. Somehow he'd had the strength to stumble back to his lines. Someone had bandaged the wound, badly and then put him on a cart back to the healer camp. The brave man had clung to life for a full day's cart ride to the camp.

Paal had suspected the fight was over when the nearly dead man had been placed in front of him. Nevertheless, he had done his best, tried to clean the wounds. However, the smell confirmed to him the fight was already lost. The smell, not just of infection, of infected guts told him it was over long before the man was placed before him. There was nothing he could do but take away the man's pain as best he could.

The soldier hadn't been awake and Paal whispered a thank you to the healing gods for that small mercy. His mind already held the image of the eyes of dozens of men in their last moments. Some fearful, others pleading, begging him with their eyes 'save me'. Paal had done all he could to block those eyes out while he was working, but he knew in his dreams he would dance with those he failed. He would look into their eyes again and he would weep for failing them.

"Bearer!" He called out, his voice cracking. Two young boys stepped in, fourteen or fifteen years each. Young men come to serve their country, to help repel their invaders. "Another for the pyre." Paal's words were uttered with a sigh of mixed exhaustion and defeat.

The two boys nodded, but said nothing, bringing in a small wooden stretcher, the wood so stained it was black in places. One boy stripped off the golden necklace and placed it in a cotton punch. The soldier's name was known, his family would get anything that he had of value. Looters were hung and Paal did not have time or energy enough to wonder or care about trinkets and baubles.

His paws were washed clean in a bucket of cold water, and then he moved to another patient. Word reached him as the sun was setting, the battle was over and the war was all but won. The Lions had retreated their army was now blocked in. Victory was a single battle away, but with the felines' backs to the ocean, Paal feared the end would be far more bloody than any battle he had seen thus far.

The streams of wounded men slowed to a trickle and as the sun began to set the rabbit crawled into his tent. He'd had just enough energy left to wash the blood and stink out of his fur. Paal's eyes closed the heartbeat his head hit the bundle of rags that served as his pillow. In his dreams they came to him, some were angry at him for failing, others were sad and a few actually thanked him for trying. The soldier was the last, he whispered thanks to Paal, for taking his pain away and then held the healer as he cried.

It was a strange comfort to Paal and he found those arms warm and welcoming. However, he was torn away from that embrace by bellows from the waking world, "LEECH! I NEED A LEECH!" His eyes opened and he groaned, the pitch black of the night let him know he had slept for merely a few hours. He pulled on a clean brown robe and crawled out of his tent. There would be others, every healer would be waking and part of his brain whispered that someone else could deal with it. However, he hushed that part of himself, he had taken oaths and he would fulfil them. Besides, he didn't know who or how many needed help.

It turned out to just be a single cart with one patient. Lord Carrol, the head healer of the camp reached the cart first. The cart was driven by a Sergeant-at-arms which was rare and usually meant the person needing healing was of royal blood. Paal arrived in time to hear Lord Carrol scolding the sergeant, "you dare wake my entire camp for one enemy soldier?!"

"Orders from the King!" Barked the soldier, his tunic was stained with blood and he had the look of a man far too tired to give much care to be polite. He had orders, he would follow them as quickly as possible to get some rest as soon as possible. Paal reached the cart and looked at the occupant. He was still in plate armour, except for his helmet which no doubt would be on the battlefield somewhere and would be picked up by the carrion who live of the pickings of the dead.

A lion lord, he was easily two foot taller than Paal. His fur was golden and his countenance peaceful. The Lion's eyes were shut. Strangest of all though, he was not alone, a young lion was with him. His robes spoke of a healer and his eyes were for his patient only. Paal could see bandages on the wounded lion's side, soaking with blood.

"I have no beds for our enemy, would you have me turf out one of our own to die on the floor while one of their enemies takes his place?" Shouted Carrol, he was the second cousin to the king and one of few willing to argue with the ruler of the kingdom.

"Peace talks are expected, an extra nobel prisoner gives more leverage. The king wants him alive, if at all possible." replied the soldier jumping off the cart and tossing the reins onto the seat.

"Sergeant, take this filth and his little lapdog to the prisoners camp, where he belongs. I will not..."

"My bed is empty. Bearers take him there, I will do what I can," the words were so surprising everyone stopped in their argument to turn and look at Paal. Carrol was scowling, a junior healer countermanding him in front of the entire camp was not a welcome thing. Paal knew he had made his lord his enemy. The young lion had a look of gratitude and relief on his face and the sergeant had a smug grin of victory.

"Very well, bearers get this filth out of my sight," Carrol shouted and then pointed at the young lion. "But this thing belongs in the prisoner camp, Sergeant, take him there or I swear I will have your head."

"No!" The young lion yelped out, his tone pleading. "I will not leave my lord's side!"

"Guards!" Carrol screamed. His entire life he had known nothing but obedience from those of lesser lineage and in the middle of the night, after a long day, he was countermanded three times in front of a crowd no less. The sergeant was already halfway to the exit of the camp, and he walked passed the running guards with a shrug.

Paal scrambled up onto the cart, he began to inspect the wound. While he could hear the camps guards feet thumping on the turf as they ran to the call of their lord. He glanced up at the young lion, he had to be sixteen summers at most his mane had not even grown in full. "Please, go with them. Lord Carrol will kill you without a moment's hesitation or remorse. I will save him, I swear I will do everything in my power to restore your lord to health."

The young lion gave him a defiant look, and Paal knew how the young man was feeling. He never wanted to leave a patient that needed him, taking a wounded man into your care was a promise, a promise that you would do all you could to save him. He hated it when he was forced away from a patient in need. "Please, you have done all you can. Your death will not help his recovery." Pleaded Paal as he looked up at the young lion.

To the rabbit's relief he saw the young male close his eyes and nod, "he is the son of Duke Cair, Barrow is his name. I gave my word to the Prince, I would do all I could to keep him alive."

"Then go, knowing you have kept your word and done all you can," Paal replied as one of the guards climbed up onto the cart, sword drawn. To Paal's relief, the young lion held up his paws and began to climb off the cart.

Two bearers climbed up a moment later, "take him to my tent." Paal said, gesturing to his small tent. Then he jumped down off the side of the cart. The young lion's paws had been bound and he was being led away. Lord Carrol had demanded he be taken to the prisoners camp, which was a mere ten minutes hike away. Paal had visited there often, supplies for prisoners of war were minimal, but the rabbit tried to do what he could when he had time.

A paw landed on his shoulder and yanked him back by his robe. Paal spun around to come eye to eye with an irate lord. "If I didn't need your talents I would have had your head for your insolence. This is my camp, you will obey my word as if it came from the gods themselves and if you ever counter my commands again I will have you hung, drawn, quartered and your corpse fed to the dogs."

The wild look in the Lord's eyes let Paal know this was no idle threat. Lord Carrol had both the will and the authority to order his execution, "yes Mi'Lord, sorry Mi'Lord." Paal replied quickly, bowing his head. He could have argued that he was following the orders of the king, or that they were healers and they had a duty and an oath to fulfil. However, Paal knew that to do so would be to sign his own death warrant. Paal also knew that the war would be over soon, and once the needs for his talents were gone making himself scarce would be the best thing he could do.

Inside his tent, he lit a small candle, a warm yellow glow lit the small world. The bearers dumped the lion on his small wooden cot bed. The lion's feet dangled off the end. Paal set about his task in as professional a manner as he could. First, he removed the bandages, they had been applied with some skill and with herbs. However, it was clear the young lion had done his best with almost no supplies. The smell of infected flesh filled the room quickly. However, there was hope, the blade may have not gotten deep enough to nick the gut or other organs.

Paal dashed out, getting a bucket of water and some supplies. He cleaned the lion's wound and for the first time, the lion made a sound. A deep pain filled moan, yet it was wonderful to hear. It meant there was life left, enough to fight and hopefully win. Next, he opened a jar and pulled out a pawful of maggots, flesh-eaters. He placed them on the open wound and then covered them with a loose bandage. They would eat the dead and infected flesh, they would clean the wound far better than any healer ever could.

He prepared a poultice with honey and a mixture of herbs, he would give the maggots an hour to finish their task and then remove them, stitch the wound and cover it with a poultice. While he waited, Paal stripped the male, pulling off piece after piece of plate armour, and chucking them into a pile in the corner.

As his fingers struggled with the lower straps of the chest plate, a paw grasped his wrist weakly and he looked up, into two golden eyes. "W..who are you?"

"I am Paal, you are in a healer camp," the rabbit replied calmly and then took a breath. "The camp belongs to King Razule of the StarholtKingdom." It should have been obvious, but the minds of the injured are often not working correctly and Paal had learned just to answer the questions.

The lion sighed softly and laid his head back, "did the others make it?"

"I know nothing of the war, save that it has made many people dead and others miserable." The healer replied as he pulled the lion's chest plate off and exposed a rather broad and muscular chest. Moreover, it exposed his wound more.

"Will I make it?" The lion asked, his golden eyes glancing down at his wound.

"It is too soon to say," Paal replied honestly. "You have an infection and the wound looks deep. You have lost much blood as well. I will do what I can."

"My life is in your paws," the lion replied and then added. "You have my thanks."

There was a warmth in those words, Paal believed the lion meant it. He wondered if the male had heard anything of the exchange when he arrived. The rabbit felt the heat of a blush reaching his cheeks, he pulled some herbs out of a pouch... "Please chew these, but do not swallow. They will reduce your pain and help you sleep." He held his paw up to the lion's mouth and Barrow did as he was instructed, chewing the leaves slowly.

It was a potent mixture but with a patient this size and a wound that bad Paal knew it was needed. After a couple of minutes, he held a bowl to Barrow's mouth, "spit!" He commanded and the lion obeyed.

"The taste is awful, but the effects are divine," the lion muttered, a smile spreading across his face. His golden eyes slowly closed and Paal gave a sigh of relief as his patient went back to sleep. The herbs would allow him to rest, and would hopefully keep him asleep while the rabbit removed the maggots from his wound. Paal had seen even the bravest of warriors lose their minds at the sight of maggots in their open wounds.

Working slowly and gently the rabbit pulled them all out, one at a time. Dropping the wriggling blood covered creatures back into the jar. Then he covered the wound with the poultice. Finally, he settled down in the corner of his tent to try and get some sleep. Even though the sun was already rising, he had just an hour or two more to sleep before he was woken by one of the other healers. It was time for his shift.

Before he left he checked the lion, the herbs were keeping him asleep. However, his brow felt too warm and Paal worried that the infection may still be present. Paal knew that all he could really do was wait and see. Not that he had the luxury of time to sit. A tap on his tent and a familiar voice called him to his duties. "Paal, your services are required."

The voice belonged to Zur, another young healer. Zur's family were minor nobles, his grandfather had been a knight and his father was a merchant. The young man had wanted to follow in his grandfather's footsteps, but his father did not want his son to be a warrior. A compromise had been to become a healer, a way to serve his king and army, but without the risks.

Paal found Zur's company pleasant enough. He made for a good travelling companion and he was definitely skilled. His desire to be a knight had not waned in the face of his father's will, or the experience of the war. To Paal, that made Zur both brave and possibly insane. He also had a good sense of humour, and even on the darkest days, he could find a reason to smile. Zur had eyes for the silver lining of every cloud.

"How fares your charge?" The male asked as Paal emerged.

"Strong, for the moment. However, I fear they got him here too late, his temperature feels high this morning." Paal replied, noting the sad look on his friend's face. Infection was a killer, especially among men weakened from serious injury. If it had truly set in then the lion's chances of survival would be low.

"Well, I hope he lives. It would be a shame to anger Lord Carrol so much, for an enemy who doesn't even have the decency to live to thank you for sticking your head in the hangman's noose," Zur commented as the two walked across the camp to a large tent that served as commissary for the lower ranks.

"He... thanked me already," admitted Paal.

"Oh, a true noble," Zur replied with a slight bow. "I heard tell that the Lions have called for peace talks."

"That would be welcome news," Paal replied as he stifled a yawn. It had been a long day and he could feel the energy draining out of him already. Too much work and not enough sleep. Sadly rest was not the order of the day and soon the pair went about their duty, seeing to injured soldiers. The noblemen came first, regardless of the extent of their wounds. Then to the men, according to rank.

Even though the battle was over, it was still a long and bloody day for the healers. Paal closed the eyes of three soldiers as they slipped away to the arms of their ancestors. He returned to his tent as often as he could. The lion slumbered on, though he was no longer peaceful, he tossed and moaned in his slumber.

Paal could feel that his temperature was rising and he knew all was nearly lost. The lion had an infection, a new war was raging in his chest the lion against the infection. There was no war to be sure of who would be the victor and Paal's knew the herbs he was able to choke down the feline's throat would only aid a tiny amount.

His shift over the rad furred rabbit was exhausted. Paal visited Barrow, long enough to change the cloth on his head for a fresh cool one. The noble creature opened his eyes briefly, he looked up at the rabbit and muttered, "that soothsayer owes me a shilling, this was not the death she promised." Before Paal could respond his eyes had closed and the rabbit grew fearful that would be the last time he saw them.

His stomach growling he did what any good healer would do, he saw to the needs of those he knew he could help. Sometimes that happens to be himself. Only a foolish healer does not care for himself, because if he truly cares for his patients he needs to keep himself fit and sharp. Stew was the order of the day, it was bland and in need of salt. However, it filled his belly and satisfied a need.

The rabbit took several bread rolls back to his tent, he knew the lion could not eat. However, Paal had a plan in mind, something that might work. Though, before he could work on his plan he had other needs, duties and desires to see to. He changed the lion's wet cloth again, the lion was trembling and his fur was soaked with sweat. "The fight does not go well." The rabbit whispered, and then he took hold of the beast's huge paw, marvelling at how something so huge and powerful could seem so frail and delicate. "Fight on sir, hold your ground. Relief is on the way, I hope."

Paal closed his eyes and held the paw for a few moments afterwards. Barrow's moans died down and his trembling stopped. Placing a wet rag in Barrow's mouth Paal was delighted to hear to sound of suckling. The fight was not yet over, there was hope. Leaving the lion to fight his war Paal stepped outside.

The sun was already dipping low in the sky, it's light becoming amber in hue and somehow lazy in Paal's mind. He strode to the entrance to the camp and nodded to the guards, "I have need of some herbs, and will visit the prisoners camp, they may have need of a healer." There was no may about that, the prisoners were left to treat each other, as best they may with what little they had, or could barter for. Paal had visited the camp a few times when he had the strength, or when he had the need. Right then his strength was failing but his need was higher than it had ever been.

The guard gave a shrug of his shoulders. Paal knew most of them didn't care what he did. As a healer, he was answerable for his own actions. It was the guard's job to keep the raving lion hordes from breaking into the camp, so far they hadn't shown up but if they did he would be ready. It was not his job to keep track of the comings and goings of the people inside the camp. If they wanted to wander off into the woods or go visit those captured kittens, he really didn't care.

Paal gave him a bow of respect anyway, which was ever so slightly returned. Even though he didn't care the guard knew it wasn't a great idea to disrespect a healer completely. You never knew when you might need a healer's touch. The rabbit was gone into the woods a few seconds later, with the sun already dipping he had almost no time left.

A good mile of briar filled forest later and the rabbit emerged to a large clearing. A wooden fence ringed the clearing, leaving a good twenty foot of open space before the trees. There were soldiers everywhere and dozens of tents, as well as a good selection of huts, had been thrown up. Nobody builds faster than a soldier in wartime, mostly because they are glad to be building and not fighting.

The guards gave him a friendlier nod than the ones at his own camp. The healer camp and prisoner camps had followed the war, the two had often been placed within sight of each other. Paal had been a frequent visitor, as had several of the other healers, even Zur spent some time there. Prisoners wounds were usually not as bad as their own soldiers. Mostly this is because their own soldiers were seen first and the seriously wounded enemy died more often than not. Barrow was very lucky he was a lord, that made him valuable enough to try to save. A common foot soldier would have died on the battlefield waiting for help.

Many at the healer camp didn't like that, it went against what most of them had learned. Life was sacred and to let it slip away without a fight was wrong. However, it was Lord Carrol who gave the orders to the bearers, who brought the wounded from the battlefield to their camp.

It was strange, but Paal had never felt fear while working with the prisoners, the enemy of his people. Most were just grateful to see him. Within moments of arrival, he was busy, changing bandages and doing what he could. Infection was a killer and good bindings saved lives. Several of the soldiers had become very proficient at helping their fellows. However, there was no substitute for trained paws and supplies.

Paal worked until he ran out of both supplies and time. The sun was dipping dangerously low and he had needs. Barrow was ever on his mind, it was hard not to see his face in the eyes of every soldier he treated. He finished with the soldier he was working on and bade his goodbyes. Then he headed for a small hut erected among the tents.

A lion soldier was sitting on the steps to the hut. Paal recognised him as one he had treated a few months back, he could still see the scar on his arm from where he had stitched him back together, "healing well?" Asked with a gesture at the arm.

The lion nodded and demonstrated by rolling his arm around, "soon be good as the day I was born, thanks to you. You want to 'pay your respects' to the captain?" There was a slight smirk on the soldier's face. Clearly, the man knew exactly how the captain liked to be shown respect. The rabbit flushed with embarrassment, however, his need was too great to turn back now. There was so little time left.

"Aye," the rabbit replied, he always found his speech slipped to match the class of people he was working with. It helped them relax, so long as you do it gently and it doesn't come off as mocking. Remembering the bag of bread rolls he tossed it to the lion. "Better than stale old muck you lot usually get. Maybe go share it around?"

Six rolls of freshly baked bread were quite a hefty prize and the soldier knew it. He gave a knowing grin, grabbed the bag and stood up. "Reckon I can, might take me a half hour or so to distribute this booty." It would only take moments and they both knew the half hour was for Paal to 'pay his respects'.

As the soldier passed he dipped his muzzle to Paal's ear suddenly, "you ever wanna to try a real man, let me know. These nobles are not a patch on me." The rabbit felt a thrill run through his chest, but he didn't respond. The honest truth was the Captain had something the rest of them didn't: a private hut, where even the guards of the camp wouldn't disturb them. Paal trotted up the last few steps and knocked on the door lightly.

"Come!" The word was bellowed with pure authority. Captain D'Lian was a man used to being obeyed. For him the fact others would do as he told them was akin to water flowing down a waterfall, it was natural law and his mind was unable to countenance it being otherwise.

Paal followed the commands, he could already feel a prickle on the back of his neck as his fur raised in response to his excitement. He found the captain sitting at a small table with an empty plate in front of him. The feline was a mountain of a man, well over seven foot in height, though his huge black mane made it hard to judge. He was wearing no shirt, just some leather armour for pants. His plate armour had been taken away, but Paal had seen him in it a giant in silver, with a red cape.

D'lian's shoulders were broad and muscular, to match his arms and legs. His stomach was much softer and more rotund. Paal had no doubt that outside of the war D'lian was a man who enjoyed every pleasure he could. "Ah! Healer!" his voice boomed in the small hut, and Paal could see a grin spreading over the noble lion's face. His huge paws slipped off the table to rest on his thighs. The movement drawing the rabbit's eyes to the lion's crotch. "I take it you have seen to the disposition of my men?"

With a nod, Paal confirmed he had as he felt his pulse racing. He was trapped in a small hut with a predator more than double his size. His instincts were screaming to run, but he had needs and this man was best placed to meet them. "Yes, my Lord. I came to see if you wanted... anything." The significant pause was just enough time for the lion to pick up on why he was visiting, not that he had visited for any other reason.

"Well, I am always happy to oblige." Growled the lion, lowering his voice and yet deepening it too. The deep tone seemed to vibrate the rabbit's chest. Paal felt his body begin to sweat as the lion swung his chair around away from the table and put his huge paws behind his head. "You had best get me ready then, hadn't you, boy?" Once more D'lian's tone told him it was an order, not a question.

The lion had more than a few grey hairs in both his mane and the black fur treasure trail that led Paal's eyes down to his crotch. The leather was already swollen as much as it could. Paal knew the lion didn't really need much getting ready, but the feline loved having this power over one of his captors. He had learned that Paal would do anything for a taste and feel, that Paal had deep-rooted needs and he could use those needs to fulfil his own desires.

Gulping softly Paal took a few paces forward and then slipped down to his knees, between two thighs the side of tree trunks. His paws reached out and pulled at the laces holding D'lian's pants together. It was a work of seconds to unleash the lion's meat. Nine inches or more of feline meat, bristling with little spines, that tickles wonderfully on the tongue and ass. A thickness to give even the more slutty sub a moment of pause.

"Go on boy, get a taste. Ye know ye want it," The voice from above growled down, though the lion hadn't moved. He wasn't even looking down his head was resting back safe and secure that he was in full control. A moment later he gave a soft and satisfied sigh, as Paal wrapped his lips around that cock, groaning with uncontrolled lusts stuffing as much of the lion's meat into his muzzle as he could.

"Damn, I am going to miss you when this war is over," groaned the lion. Paal felt himself blushing a little as a huge paw reached down and caressed his cheeks. While his hunger drove him onwards to bob on the thick shaft. The weariness of days worth of hard work seemed to fade away, his worries draining out of his mind. His right paw wrapped around the shaft he could not fit in his muzzle, while the other groped and lightly tugged on two musky balls.

The taste at first had been deeply musky and bitter, days worth of sweat and grime. However, after a few seconds of sucking, the rabbit had cleaned and swallowed the taste of man. Now the flavour was much sweeter, with hints of nutmeg and cardamom. His nose filled with pure bestial musk and rank of a pent-up lion male. Paal gulped and swallowed as drops of pre drooled onto his tongue. He wondered at the feel of thickness between his lips, the tickle of D'lian's spines as the pull on his sensitive lips.

"Mmm, damn. I have plenty of spare rooms in my house... you ever find yourself in need of a home or job....ohhh... just come find me," the huge paw was resting on Paal's head and the feline was beginning to buck his hips up. The huge cock was pressing right to the back of his throat, it felt hot in his mouth. The huge rod was throbbing under his tongue as the lion's pulse raced, he could see the lion was already lost to the lust and heat of the moment. He wanted to keep going, to suck the beast's balls dry. However, he had needs and there was a better way to meet them.

Using all the restraint he could muster he pulled himself off the thick cock. The meat showed its disapproval by spitting a line of pre onto his red furred cheek. "My Lord, I believe you are ready." He said, through panted breaths as he heard a threatening growl from above. The lion wasn't used to anyone stopping him getting the pleasure he wanted. If Paal had time he would have given him exactly what he wanted, knowing that he lusted for the same.

"Very well, on your feet," there was a gruffness in the lion's speech that sent a little warning thrill down Paal's spine. His heart pounded so hard he was half expecting it to burst from his chest. D'lian had already risen to his feet and towered over him. The leather pants only pulled down enough to expose his genitals.

Paal was only halfway to his feet when those huge paws took hold on him. The lion manhandled him like he weighed nothing. Paal moaned as his chest hit the table. One huge paw landed on his shoulder, pressing him down, while the other pulled up his robe, tossing the cloth over his back and leaving his rear exposed. His tail quivered as his paws grasped the table for support. Paal closed his eyes and controlled his breathing as he waited for what he knew was coming.

A warm tip slid between his cheeks and Paal gasped as it kissed his pucker. Then he squealed as the lion's cock was suddenly thrusting forward, like a battering ram forcing its way inside him. Two thrusts and D'lian's hips were pressing to his buttocks and the lion was purring above him. "Wish my wife was as tight," Growled the male and Paal took a deep breath, knowing the tiny moment was all D'lian would give him to adjust. This was far from his first time with D'lian and the lion was very far from his first lover. The entry had been rough and yet not that painful.

With a flex of his buttocks, Paal clenched down around the lion, both making the beast growl with pleasure and challenging his superiority. A deep chuckle echoed into his ears as if his little challenge had been seen for what it really was. A desperate plea, a begging for no quarter to be given. Paal tightened his fingers grip on the table as he felt the cock pulling back, slowly an inch at a time. The lion's barbs tickled his ring, in a wonderful way. He knew what was coming and yet he didn't know when seconds ticked by and he could feel himself growing desperately impatient.

Moaning with need, he pushed back, and in that same heartbeat, D'lian began his assault. This wasn't making love this was fucking: hard, fast and desperate. The lion's huge balls smacked off his own as the huge beast layover him. The huge body pinning him down with ease, though Paal had no intention of struggling. He was desperate for this, with each thrust he could feel the excitement inside him growing. For the first time since the last time he was bent over this table, he felt whole again.

He cried out as a warm paw suddenly grasped around his cock, his own aching maleness welcoming the warm touch. "Mmm, someone..ah...likes this..." D'lian panted breathlessly into his ear, while Paal whimpered and struggled. Why? Seven months they had been doing this, never once had the lion shown the slightest care for Paal's pleasure. Why did he have to do so now, when he needed it so badly when his body was crying out for more?

Paal bit his lip hard, trying to stop himself, but it had been a week since he last touched himself and a good ten days since he had last been fucked. He whimpered into the wood as his cock began to throb and he felt his seed jetting onto the floor. The lion chuckled mockingly as he upped the speed of his thrusting as if trying to fuck the rabbit's balls dry. With his orgasm in control of him, Paal lost control and he felt it, the raw power of the brute fucking him.

The lion noticed nothing, he just kept fucking. His thick cock pounding into the tight rabbit fuckhole, stuffing the needy bunny full of cock again and again. Rutting like feral animals, their words nothing more than grunts and moans, snarls and growls. The thrusting getting faster and faster, while Paal gripped the table harder and harder. A soft glow coming from his fingers as the intense pressure on his prostate, and the lion paw still around his cock, forced him to a second orgasm faster than he could ever remember happening before.

His fingertips being curled around the edge of the table shielded the glow from the lion's eyes. Not that D'lian would have noticed a dragon if it had landed on the roof of the hut and brought the whole lot crashing down on them. He was lost to the pleasure of the squirming rabbit under him. His eyes were closed, and he did not see the wood of the table sprouting little shoots. He silenced Paal's cries of pleasure with a paw stained with two lots of rabbit seed.

Paal's cries muffled while he tasted his own juices, and felt them soaking into his muzzle. He could smell his scent mixing with the brute of a feline lover and it just made his desires grow. He no longer cared about being caught, this was his moment. Paal wanted the lion, he desperately needed his brute strength, his raw passion and power. His body strapped itself around the thrusting meat desperately trying to get every last moment, to draw the bestial essence from his lover.

D'lian apparently had enough presence of mind to clamp his other paw around his own mouth as he fucked the desperate heavenly vice. He had fucked dozens of males and females of many species in his long life and all of them paled in comparison to the rabbit squirming under him. He felt something new and fresh, and so very wonderful. He was addicted to the feeling, battling his own instincts to cum, desperate to draw out the mating. He'd fucked Paal many times and it had never been like this before.

The lion's paw let go of his mouth as he felt his will slipping. He gave in, his jaws latching down on the robe covered shoulder of Paal, clenching him in a desperate mating bite. While his hips fucked so hard the table rocked into the wall and made the entire hut shake. Outside his men were laughing, they all knew what the two were up to. While further off a few of the rabbit guards saw, and turned a blind eye.

With one last powerful thrust, the floodgates opened. Paal felt the first warm drops beginning to flow into him. His ass clenched down on instinct, and desire to keep as much of the lion's essence inside of him. His own orgasm fading he was able to control himself, focusing on riding out the end of his lover's pleasure. Clenching and relaxing over and over, as he tried to suck every last drop he could from the lion.

D'lian's thrusts had slowed, yet each one was still powerful ending with a new shot of lion seed into Paal's ass. The feline kept rutting on pure instinct alone, his mind having long been drowned in the pleasure of the moment. Eventually, he stopped and slumped forward, his huge body pinning Paal down once more.

The rabbit gasped and panted for a few moments and then started to squirm, "I have to go, my lord." He mumbled as he tried to lift the heavy mass that was crushing him down against the wood.

With a moan and a snort, D'lian lifted up, his cock pulling free, leaving a trail of spunk over Paal's robes, to match the dual trails from where the rabbit himself had come. "A pleasure, as always." The lion mumbled as he sat down heavily on his chair, almost falling out of it, purely exhausted.

Paal was not exhausted, he was filled with energy. His eyes glanced out the window where he could see the light was starting to get dusky, the sun was almost set. The orange and red glow of the gloaming world. He hopped off the table and winced as he saw the cum stains showing through his hemp robe. Paal hoped nobody else would notice, in the dim twilight. However, there was nothing he could do he could already feel the energy slipping away.

He rushed out of the camp, trying not to see the knowing smirks on the faces of the prisoners. They all knew what he'd done, they just were all wrong about the why. As soon as he was out of eyeshot he broke into a run, the forest was very dark, the trees blocking out most of the remaining sunlight. It had been easier the last few places they had set up when the prisoners were closer to them.

A stray root caught his foot and he fell face first onto the earthy floor. With a groan he pulled himself back to his feet, his robe covered in loose dirt. His eyes spotted something right in front of him, a plant he recognised quickly, comfrey. It's little purple flowers and huge leaves giving it away. It was rare to find it in this part of the world, Paal drew a small knife from his belt and cut the plant down. The leaves were good for poultices, but it was the flowers that were the real value.

However, the delight from the find abated his urgency only for a moment. With his prize in his paws, he ran on until he reached the camp. A healer coming out of the forest with a pawful of herbs was a common sight and one that drew zero comment. He rushed through the camp until he reached his own tent. Paal tossed the herbs down in one corner for later. Then he turned to the lion.

The cloth in his mouth was long dried, unlike the feline's fur. It was soaked with sweat and yet the lion felt cold now. He was shivering, but weakly. The battle had not gone well, it rarely did with infections. Paal knew his instincts had been right, his patient needed healing far beyond that of mere herbs. He closed his eyes and hoped he had gotten back in time.

His paws roamed over the broad golden chest, the muscles underneath were impressive and ones that Paal would have liked to get to know in a different setting. Taking deep slow breaths he focussed his mind, his paws beginning to glow, starting first at the tips. A golden light slowly spread over his red furred fingers and spread until it reached his wrists. His eyes opened only it wasn't his green eyes looking out, golden light shone out of both, like tiny twin suns. The entire tent filled with light and Paal tried not to think about who might notice. His task was too difficult to worry about who might catch him in the act.

Barrow's breathing had slowed already, warmth returning to his body. Those golden paws slid down away from Barrow's heart and to his wound, the source of the infection. His paw lifted up just a little, as he channelled raw energy down into his patient, willing him to heal. A gasp caught the rabbit's ears, but his task was not yet done. Paal drew on the last dregs of energy, he used everything that D'lian had given him, pouring it into the wound.

Paal trembled as he felt the final dregs slipping from his fingers into the feline and the glow faded from his paws and his eyes. The wound was closed, not yet fully healed but well on the way. The infection would be gone and he knew Barrow would awake in the morning with his strength starting to return. There was still a long way to go on the road to full health, however, Paal had used his limited grasp of magic to steer the lion away from the path to oblivion and onto the shortcut to wellness.

"You're a mage," Paal heard those words and he sighed. He'd hoped the lion would sleep through it. He had very rarely used his abilities to heal, only when it was the only option and when he thought the risk of discovery was minimal.

Now his secret was discovered and by his enemy no less. Though he found it hard to label Barrow as such, he really had only seen a little of the man. "Yes, I am. Not trained... I'm a natural tantric. I didn't ask to be born this way." The rabbit admitted, there was no sense in hiding it, he had been caught golden handed. Now his hopes resided on convincing the lion to keep his secret. "I... it was the only way to save you," Paal added,

Barrow tilted his head a little and looked the rabbit over. He could see the muddy robes and smell the scent of another lion over him. "Tantric mages... they use..." The lion didn't finish his sentence, but he didn't need to, Paal knew exactly where his magic came from. It had started the first time he'd taken a lover, two teenage boys, playing in the stables. Only for him to set the building on fire as he came, the pure raw magic had flowed out of him and he'd had no chance to control it. That had been the first time and he'd run. He'd not been home since, his family might turn him in, if they didn't they might hang beside him.

"I believe the punishment for using magic is the same in the Starholt kingdom, as it is in mine," Barrow added cautiously, and he saw the rabbit's head nod forward. "Your life is in my paws then." It was a statement, Barrow was a noble and if he accused Paal of being a magic user Lord Carrol would believe him, even though they were enemies. The nobility trusted each other when it came to dealing with those of the lower classes anyway.

Paal trembled and tried to fight back tears until he felt a warm paw land on his shoulder, "your life is as safe in my paws, as mine was in yours." The rabbit gave a huge sigh of relief.

"Thank you!"

"You saved my life, thank you," Barrow replied with a good-natured smile.

Paal found himself looking into those golden eyes, unable to speak. It was weird after years of hiding to have someone know what he was. There was a connection, or he was sure he felt one, he wasn't sure if it was just in his head.

Barrow broke the moment, in the end by moving his paw off Paal's shoulders, "you may not be able to answer this, but is there any news of the war?"

The rabbit shrugged, "I'm a healer I only hear rumours. The last one was that your King has asked for peace talks."

"About time," growled the lion, Paal noticed he slipped a paw down to his wound. "Too many good men have died already." Paal's mouth opened to point out it was not his people who started the war. However, Barrow beat him to it, "we started it, and I will not offer a defence for that. You cannot blame a wounded soldier for wanting peace, especially when he is a prisoner."

The rabbit nodded an agreement for that, and then turned and pulled a mugful of water from the bucket he had drawn that morning. "Here, you should drink this and rest. When the kitchen opens in the morning I will get you some food, it will still take many days for your wound to heal fully." Barrow took the mug from his paws.

"You have my thanks again, Paal." the lion said and then he drained the mug quickly. It had been days since he had last properly drank, the rabbit knew he shouldn't drink too much at once and so he did not offer a refill quickly. Instead, he settled in the corner and began to work on the comfrey. The leaves were stripped from the stems and ground in a pestle and mortar, with some oil. The mixture he put into an empty jar.

The flowers were more tricky and even more so by candlelight. However, if he left them much longer they would wilt. With tired paws and a pair of tweezers he carefully pulled the stamens from the plant, gathering them all in a much smaller pestle and mortar.

"What are you doing?" The voice surprised him, partly because he had thought the lion would have gone to sleep quickly. After several days of dying, Paal would have welcomed any chance for a nap.

"I am making medicine," the rabbit replied patiently. "This herb, Comfrey, it is common near my home, but I had not seen any in your lands until I fell on this today. It is a good herb."

"Mayhap a sign of better things to come," Barrow said softly as he lay back in the cot.

"I hope so, my Lord," Paal agreed as he continued his work.

"I think after all you have done to save my life, you may call me by my name. Barrow." Paal was a little shocked to hear those words, he'd never had a noble grant him such an honour. Even D'lian had not given him leave to use his first name, as if he was an equal.

"Thank you, my... Barrow," stammered the rabbit, his paw trembling so much he dropped one of the stamens. It was lost in the loose earth of the floor and he cursed his clumsiness.

"Where did you study herblore?" the lion asked, the question was intended to distract Paal away from his embarrassment and put him at ease.

Paal paused in his actions and a small smile came to his face, "I learned from a kind man, one who took a wild and very angry boy into his life and heart. "His name was Tzu, he was a healer, unfortunately, he was old when we met and it was just a few years before he was too old to continue walking between towns." Paal paused and looked back to the lion. "He was the only other person I told about my... talents."

"Sounds like a good man," the lion observed.

"The best, he was kind when he had no reason to be. He lived a life helping people and never asked for more in return than as much food as a person could spare, or maybe some used clothes." Paal spoke his words with passion, his eyes staring at the flower before him as he remembered the day the old rabbit taught him the value of the plant. "He died two winters ago."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not." Paal shot back quickly. "He was a good man, he died surrounded by people who cared for him. Plus, he didn't live to see the war, and for that, I am grateful for it would have broken his heart and mind to see so much death and pain that he could not stop."

Barrow said nothing, there wasn't anything he could say to that. The lion knew that Paal would have seen much of that death and pain himself. Barrow had certainly seen more than he ever cared to. Paal worked quietly until he had finished and then he placed a bundle of clothes on the floor as a pillow and lay down.

"Why are you laying on the floor?" The lion asked, looking down at him from the edge of the cot bed.

"Because you are in my bed," the rabbit replied without looking back.

"Oh!" The honest exclamation escaped Barrow's lips. "I thought... I thought you would have your own tent."

"I do, but there were no spare beds, and Lord Carrol did not want to turf out an injured man, for an enemy," Paal answered honestly.

"So you gave up your own bed to save the life of an enemy soldier that you didn't even know. Then risked your life to bring me back from the very doors of death itself." The lion sounded astonished as he stared at the small huddled rabbit body. "In this war, I have seen many things. I saw a man stand and pull a spear from his own body to defend his fallen brother-in-arms. When food was scarce I saw Noblemen giving up their rations so that their soldiers would eat just a little better, or a little more. I also saw Soldiers ransacking farms, knights stealing golden treasures from noble houses, or worse from the very bodies of the fallen. I have seen the best and worst of my people. Thank you, for showing me the best of your people. You are a good man, my friend. If I may call you that?"

Paal gulped softly as he felt his heart racing. Barrow was a military leader, a man who would lead men into battle. The rabbit had never given such men much thought, he saw the results of their actions and wondered why anyone would follow any man into battle. For the first time, he understood. "You may. Now please, you need more rest, as do I."

"There is room on this cot, just if you were to lay on my good side," Paal's eyes shot open at that offer. "I... thank you, but I would not wish to bring you pain or discomfort."

"Nor I you, but I am bringing you discomfort now. I will not lay in a man's bed and force him to sleep on the floor," there was a steel to Barrow's words, a hard core that Paal could hear. He knew the lion meant every word he said. "Now, either you lay with me in this cot, or I will lay with you, on the floor."

Slowly Paal climbed back to his feet. Barrow winced as he tried to move to the edge of the cot, offering up maybe half an inch of the cot and a foot or more of well-muscled lion chest. The rabbit carefully climbed onto the cot, expecting each moment the small wooden frame to give under their combined weight. However, it didn't and instead, he found himself laying his head down on a golden pillow of soft lion fur and muscle. A strong arm rested around him and stopped him rolling off the side of the cot. "Thank you, my... friend."

"Before you sleep, there is one more thing I should like to do," Barrow's voice rumbled into Paal's ears. The rabbit's fingers twitched with nerves as he imagined what the big lion could do to him in that tiny cot. A golden paw reached up to the lion's neck. "I guess with so much mane, nobody spied this." His paw pulled something from his fur, it glittered in the candlelight.

It was a ring, for Paal big enough that he could put two fingers inside with room to spare. It was engraved with an image.

"This is my sigil ring. It will be recognised by any noble in my land." Barrow said as he turned the ring over in his paws. "My father is Duke of a city called Cair, it lays right on the coast. I have two brothers, each of us were given a ring when we were born." Barrow slipped the ring on and then dipped his ring finger and caught the ring as it slipped off. "He assumed I would grow to be a lot larger than I did, it never fit me."

Paal watched the ring wondering why the lion was telling him. However, the vibrations of Barrow's words ran up through his chest and into the rabbit. It was a pleasant sensation, the warmth and strength below him and around him. He felt safe and his long day suddenly seemed so much longer. His eyes were heavy and he was only partly listening to the feline talk.

The lion took hold of the golden chain that had held the ring around his neck for as long as he could remember. And he grasped Paal's hand, turning it around he placed the ring and chain down in the rabbit's paw and closing his fingers around it. The metal was warm and oddly heavy in Paal's fingers. "If ever you are in need, take this ring to any sheriff, lord or any military commander in my kingdom and ask for help. They will know you are a member of my house and take you to my father or myself and whatever aid we can give will be given."

"I can't accept..."

"You cannot refuse it, my friend. To do so would be a grave insult to my family's honour," Barrow's muzzle dipped down to Paal's ear. "Plus it would hurt me, and you are supposed to cure hurt, not cause it."

His fingers clenched the small lump of metal as he tried to grasp what had just happened. While he did so, Barrow took the chain and fastened it around the rabbit's neck. "I would suggest you keep it hidden, "This was said to a softly snoring bunny as the exhaustion of the day finally caught up with him. Barrow smiled and lay his own head down and the two slumbered together happily.

<>

They slept soundly, but only for a few hours before a bashing on the tent awoke them. Paal's call to duty. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into two golden kind eyes. "I think your services are needed, my friend," Barrow whispered. The rabbit groaned softly, his body did not want him to move. He felt warm, safe and comfortable, nuzzled up against Barrow's warm body.

However, one thing Paal had learned was that as a healer, his own wants were never as important as his patients. With a groan, he sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. The ring around his neck, felt oddly heavy as it slipped down to hang against his chest. Paal pulled off his dirty robe and dumped it in the corner, pulling on a slightly cleaner robe.

Barrow tried to sit up in the cot and groaned deeply. Paal was at his side in a moment, "please you are still very badly wounded. It will take days before you can walk."

"I believe you, my friend," Barrow replied his teeth gritted due to the stabbing pains coming from his wound. Paal set about changing his bandages and cleaning the wound once more. "It felt much less serious last night."

"The energy from the spell would have been within you for a while," Paal explained as he pulled on his leather boots.

"Are you able to cast another spell?" The lion asked hopefully, holding a paw over the wound.

"No, within an hour of... the energy fades, it runs away like the sands of an hourglass and I cannot stop it from flowing. I can merely use it when I have it," as he answered he pulled some herbs from his pouch, the same mixture of herbs he had given Barrow the day before. "Chew these, but do not swallow."

"Ah, magic of a different sort, thank you, my friend," Barrow said with a smile of thanks, before starting to chew the mixture. His eyes began to close, though he spat the herbs out on Paal's command.

"Rest now, I will return with some breakfast soon. Then you may sleep for the day and start to really heal that wound," the rabbit whispered to the slumbering Barrow. For a moment he paused, just feeling the weight of the ring around his neck. He looked at it, the crest of Barrow's house staring up at him. A promise, of sorts. Then he tucked it safely under his robes so nobody would see.

He visited the kitchen, ate a bowl of porridge and then took a second to his tent. Placing the bowl where Barrow would easily be able to reach it, he left. Paal went to work and was surprised by the frantic activity that was going on. With the last battle a couple of days behind them, most of the work should have been changing wound dressings and cleaning patients. Instead injured were being prepped for travel. Paal's stomach twisted in knots as he feared another battle was imminent and they were moving the stable wounded to make space for fresh injuries.

However, Zur was able to calm those fears. Peace talks were set for the following day and it was anticipated that king Zal would capitulate to any demands they laid. They were preparing anyone who could be moved to head home. "Lord Carrol says the prisoner camp is moving today. They want to be ready to hand everyone over the morning after the wedding."

Paal knew the tradition to mark the end of a war by the loser's son marrying the winner's daughter. It didn't concern him, it was nobles business. What did concern him was the thought of moving a certain lion. He left Zur and made for the officer mess, where he was sure Lord Carrol would be.

He was right, the grey-haired lord was sitting down to dinner, opposite the captain who commanded the guards of the camp. "Lord Carrol!" He shouted, just a little too loud and the old rabbit turned to scowl at him. Paal knew that the had already taken a step too far, he was galloping down a path that would lead to a public flogging if he was lucky. However, as his feet were already on the path he had no choice but to go forward, although he tried to choose his next steps more carefully. "My apologies at interrupting your breakfast, however, I have been told that all prisoners are the be sent back to the front. Lord Barrow is not able to move, he is still very weak. If I could beg your patience for a day or two then his chance of..."

"No!" The word cut right through Paal's attempt at eloquence. "No delays, no patience."

"But, My Lord, he may not..." Paal's words died on his lips as Lord Correl put his spoon down gently, but with such purpose that Paal felt he could not have slammed a war hammer down and gotten more attention.

The elder rabbit slowly got to his feet and Paal's stomach began to twist again. Two days ago he had been threatened with death, "listen carefully, you insolent whelp of a diseased doxy. The war is over and my need for your talents grows thin, as does my restraint. That lion cur in your bed can lay on a cart and rot until his belly is full of maggots and he pays the ferryman for his passage." The words echoed in Paal's ears, and he was smart enough to keep his eyes down low. Lord Carrol took a few steps closer to him and he felt his heart racing, his paws were trembling.

"One dozen lashes of the cat, for your impertinence," Paal's heart fell as his sentence was pronounced.

"Lord Carrol, a moment if you will," the captain of the guard asked as he stood up. Paal knew him a little. He had been injured in the early days of the war and healed by the healers in the camp. He was a knight of the king, Dain, a fair man. His black fur was matched with eyes so dark brown at a distance they looked entirely black. He was a young man, and still idealistic.

The two walked a few paces away, yet their conversation was loud enough for him to hear. While he stood trembling. Twelve lashes of the cat, he'd been beaten before most commoners had. However, the cat was different a whip with ten endings, each one with a metal claw at its tip. The cat didn't just bruise, it ripped the flesh.

In the early days of the war, Paal had watched as a young deserter had been given fifty lashes of the cat. The screams of the poor terrified boy still echoed in his darkest dreams. Worse still was the memory of trying to treat him. An infection had set in and the young boy would have died if not for Paal. That was the first time during the war Paal had sought out a partner, someone to provide the energy he needed. The prisoner camp had not been far.

"My Lord, we stand on the eve of peace, in that spirit I implore you to reduce the young man's punishment."Hearing someone, who was maybe a year or two younger than he, call him a young man would have normally amused Paal. However, he was too filled with gratitude, even after the man followed up with another offer. "I will give him a beating myself, I promise you, My Lord, he will learn his place."

Lord Carrol listened to the words, his eyes fixed on Paal and for a few seconds there was silence. "Thank you, for your advice and your offer, my friend. I will take you up on the offer to administer his punishment. However, I had already taken the peace into account, which is why his punishment was a dozen lashes and not ten dozen as would be just for some common filth who has twice crossed me in a matter of days."

Paal's blood felt like a stream in mid-winter, frozen solid. His breath would not come as he knew his fate was sealed. He saw the pity in Dain's eyes as the captain turned to him. Lord Carrol had won and they both knew it. By drawing Dain into this dirty business he had stained a good man's paw with his own bloodlust. The young captain would probably never challenge him again.

"Attendant!" The grey rabbit called out, and a young servant lad stepped forward. "Rouse the camp, Captain Dain has justice to serve." Paal had never hated anyone so much in his life. Not the lover who turned him in, those who had hunted for him for what he was. Not for the first time in his life, he wished that his power was not so fleeting. Had he his magic he would return his wrath on the old bastard tenfold.

However, he was undone and there was nothing to do, but hope that Dain would make the lashes as gentle as possible. The black rabbit placed a paw on his shoulder, "come on lad, the post is this way." 'The post', every camp had at least one set up. A simple oaked post with leather straps to hold those undergoing punishment. It was positioned right in the centre of the camp, to make sure everyone got an equal chance to see justice, such as it was, be given out.

Lord Carrol's boy had done his job well, Paal could see almost everyone in the camp waiting for him. Even half the wounded had been roused from their beds. Lord Carrol himself was giving a speech, Paal's ears failed to hear a single word. In the crowd he found Zur, his friend was looking at him with fear in his eyes.

"I will let you leave your robe on," Dain muttered as he began to fasten the straps to Paal's wrists. It was a small mercy, his robe would take the worst of the first few lashes. "I am sorry for this, it was not my will."

"I understand," Paal was surprised by how calm his voice sounded. It was so distant like he was hearing a conversation from across the room. His eyes stayed fixed on Zur, the two always stood together when called to watch punishment. In his mind Paal was out there, watching with sympathy for the next poor soul to face the wrath of his lord.

Something was pushed into his mouth, a rod of hardwood, bound with cord. For him to bite away his screams, like a man. People said it helped, but only for so long. Then the screams would come. Paal was shocked to feel the wetness on his cheeks and to realise he was crying.

His gaze went to Lord Carrol and Paal's tears dried up. His was the only face looking on with delight in his eyes. Resolving to take his lashes like a man he drew himself up to his full height, he glanced back at Dain and nodded. It was time to take his punishment, but he would not give that man the satisfaction of hearing him scream.

A soldier hurried over to Dain carrying the cat. Paal could see it's cold metal claws glinting in the sunlight. He turned to the crowd, found Zur and tried to take strength by holding his eyes. While his mind counted the seconds, trying to guess how long it would be before... WHIP! Paal bit down hard as the ten claws tore at his robe. It hurt, but it was just an overture.

"One!" Called out the soldier who brought the cat, he would call the count as was normal. Paal prepared himself for the next blow.

"NO!" Everything stopped and every eye turned to look at the source of the cry. It was Lord Carrol, "So soft a blow does not count. You are a young strong man, Dain. Put your BACK into it!" Paal muttered every curse he could think of. Had he any magic left in him the old bastard would have melted into a steaming pile of feral horse dung.

Instead... WHIP!, ten claws ripped at his robe and his flesh, this strike made him bit down harder.

"One!" Paal's heart stopped in his chest as he waited to see if the old cunt would call foul on the blow again. However, it seemed he was satisfied.

WHIP! Ten claws, he felt every single one this time, tearing not just at the cloth but his fur and skin. The whip was bad and yet somehow the drawing back was worse, the claws dug in and cut as Dain pulled them back. What was worse than the pain was the knowledge that he had ten more lashes to go. "Two"

WHIP! Blood, not just on his back, in his mouth, as he found himself resting against the pole. Like it was a friend, there to support him at need. "Three!"

WHIP! "Four!" WHIP! "Five!" WHIP! " Six!" Paal knew the feel of blood running down his back, it was warm trickling through his fur. His body had never felt so weak, he rested on the straps. The rod in his mouth slight comfort for anything. Halfway home, he thought to himself. Once he was able he would leave this camp, he would never return to serve. Not if this was the price.

WHIP! "Seven!" WHIP! "Eight!"WHIP! "Nine!" The caller's voice was somehow musical, it cut through after his screams. The rod had slipped from his mouth and he could hear himself sobbing. Yet with each whip came a call, a wonderful call, one more lash down, one less to suffer.

WHIP! "Ten!" WHIP! "Eleven!" Paal's heart was racing, he felt an elation he had never known before. He was almost home. His back was somehow burning as if acid had been poured over his flesh. The pain was almost unbearable and yet he knew he would endure.

WHIP! "Twelve!" Paal cried out with relief as the claws pulled out of his back one last time. He felt dizzy and weak, he couldn't stand. Kind paws released the leather straps, and he almost fell. However, he landed on a shoulder. His eyes were struggling to focus and yet he knew his friend when he saw him. Then he was walking, back to his tent.

He felt drunk and he wished he was. Paal could feel stripes of cloth sticking and then pulling free from his wounds with every step he took. Every movement hurt in his mind he killed the old grey rabbit a thousand different ways.

Paal recognised his own tent, when Zur helped him inside, the loose tent flats falling on his back, turning red with his blood. He heard an exclamation from Barrow, as Zur gently lay him down on the floor. A paw with herbs was pressed to his mouth, "chew, but don't swallow." Paal wondered how many times he'd told someone else to do that, the herbs tasted bitter, and strongly of anise. He knew they would help and he felt himself relaxing and the searing, burning pain cooled down to just a throbbing ache.

He spat the herbs out on command and gave a soft sigh as he felt the drowsiness hit him. Zur stripped his robe and said nothing about the golden ring. Paal assumed he didn't see it. His friend had a compassionate heart and Paal knew that Zur would be thinking of nothing but treating the wounds.

"It is not as bad as it could have been," Paal heard Zur say, only his friend wasn't talking to him he was talking to Barrow. "The fur should grow back in time, assuming we can clean the wounds and he doesn't get an infection."

"If I move, can you lift him onto the bed?" Barrow asked and Paal could hear the concern in his voice.

"Where will you lay?" Zur asked while Paal felt his friend's paws working over his back. It felt oddly magical. Wherever those paws went, cool water cleaned and soothed. He felt his friend applying herbal mixtures to the cuts and stitching together cuts too deep and long to heal themselves.

"On the floor," Barrow replied without a heartbeat of hesitation.

"His wounds may be fresh, but yours was deep. He would not thank you if your gallantry undoes his hard work," Zur whispered something that Paal was not supposed to hear, but it is hard to keep things from the ears of a rabbit, even a drugged one, especially in so enclosed a space. "He took this punishment to try and save you. Tomorrow the carts are coming, that means you will be moved. The journey to the front is several days an no healers are going with you. Rest, and heal while you can."

Zur stood up and announced loudly, "his wounds are dressed, he will wake properly in an hour or so. He has herbs to treat his own pain. I will return tomorrow morning and change both of your dressings. It is the least I can do."

"You have my thanks," Barrow said if Zur replied Paal didn't hear or see it.

The rabbit dozed for a good hour before he felt the dull throb starting to turn into a burning and he moaned.

"Are you awake, my friend?" Barrow asked and Paal looked up to see two worried golden eyes looking down at him.

"Yes, it looks worse than it is, I assume you." it was a half-truth. The wounds may have looked worse than they were, but they also felt far more painful than they looked. That was the point of the cat, to cause pain and not cripple unless used to excess.

"Are you able to get up. I think the cot would be more comfortable than the floor," an evening laying on someone strong and protective had never seemed so appealing.

Paal put his paws down and pushed and as fresh blossoms of pain laced across his back he whimpered and lay back down, "maybe in a little while."

"I... I'm sorry." Barrow muttered. "I know what it is like to take a beating, one you did not deserve."

For a few moments, there was silence. Paal found himself mulling over Barrows words, he'd never seen a noble be given a beating or lashes of the cat. He assumed the lion was exaggerating, some childhood spanking by his father. "It was foolish of me to confront a lord."

"Maybe." The lion conceded, he looked down at the rabbit, the bandages were already showing blood stains. "It was brave also. Speaking up to a man who not only has the power, but the will and authority to do this to someone for a simple act of confrontation."

"Braveness and foolishness oft go hand in hand. My father used to say that," Paal replied, the last time his father had said that was when he had fallen off a wild feral horse. A stupid young boy, trying to be a hero to be a knight. He'd hidden in a tree and when the wild horses wandered past he'd leapt onto the back of one like he'd heard hero's do in his bedtime stories. Only he was no hero and it was no story, the animal had tossed his tiny body off in a matter of seconds. Paal remembered the fall so vividly, it had seemed to last for an eternity, he oft wondered if flight felt like that to birds, wonderful and terrifying in equal measure.

"A wise man. However, the world needs brave fools now and then," Barrow replied and he reached a paw down and lightly squeezed Paal's shoulders. "Thank you once more, for being bravely foolish on my account."

Paal looked at that huge paw and sighed at the warmth and strength he felt. It helped, for as weak as he felt in that moment to know there was someone strong nearby. He lay there for a few moments and then he gritted his teeth. Both paws were placed under him, his feet moved to find purchase. With a deep whimper of defiance, he forced himself to his feet, hoping that none his stitches would tear.

"Are you ok, my friend?" The lion's voice was filled with concern and then he gasped softly as Paal more fell on him than lay on the cot. Careful feline paws pulled the rabbit into a more comfortable position, Barrow made sure not to touch his back.

"I am, and better now." Paal sighed as he felt the warmth and strength below and around him. "You make a better bed than the earth."

"High praise indeed," chuckled the lion. "You are better than a bedpan to keep a man warm on a cold night."

They both laughed a little and then fell into a comfortable silence. Paal knew he should sleep, but the pain was still too raw, he knew he would not get a wink. His mind wondered about what would happen in the days to come, Barrow would be taken from him tomorrow. That bothered him, more than he thought it should. The lion was just another patient, and yet he wasn't just another patient.

"Can I ask, what brave and foolish deed got you beaten?" It was a personal question and Paal knew it. Yet laying in each other's arms, as if they were old lovers, it felt like this might be the only chance to ask personal questions.

Silence and soft breathing was his only reply. The moment's passed by as the tent grew darker as the evening drew in and night started. Paal didn't repeat his question, fearing that he had insulted his friend, or stirred some bad memory best left alone. Then he heard whispered words "I... tried to befriend prince Talian."

"Offering friendship is worth a beating in your kingdom?" The rabbit asked unable to keep the disgust out of his voice.

"Not to me, but we were young. My father took me along on a trip with the king and his son. Prince Talian and I were of the same age, the only two on the trip." Barrow sighed softly. "He didn't want anything to do with me. He was ever desiring the attention of his father, a king and father to many children. Anyway, I made a mistake without even realising it. Talian went hunting one day and I wanted to show him that I enjoyed hunting too. However, I got lucky and a full-grown stag literally jumped into view when I had bow drawn on a rabbit... I took it down, more through luck than skill. I was so shocked I just let loose my arrow."

"It was a good hit, right to the heart and he went down. The beast was so big I had to tie it to the back of my horse, fore I could not lift it. Talian's hunt went well, he brought down much, but no stag to match mine." Paal closed his eyes listening to the story and rested his head on the lion's chest. "King Zal showered me with much praise and Talian grew jealous. He got his revenge by stealing the last flagon of his father's favourite wine and leaving the empty flagon in my tent."

Paal felt the strong warrior under him tremble and he heard the pain in Barrow's voice as he said, "the king flew into a rage with me. I had been punished before, but nothing akin to this, my arm was broken as were several ribs. If my father had not stepped in I fear I may not be here now to trouble you."

"That worthless cur!" Paal snarled as rage boiled within him. To have a man beaten or whipped was bad, to actually attack a boy. It was not the action he thought befitting a king or any adult.

"King Zal is a foolish and prideful man, too used to the pleasures of power," Barrow replied. "However, Prince Talian... he is my friend."

"You forgave him? After he had you so badly beaten?" There was no hiding the pure astonishment in his voice. He couldn't imagine ever forgiving Lord Carrol, let alone calling the man a friend.

"He... earned my friendship despite that," Barrow said firmly. "He grew to be a man, a man I can respect, unlike his father. He will make a good king, a different king I am certain."

"What did he do to earn your forgiveness and friendship?" Paal had to have an answer for that. Lord Carrol could give him everything he owned and Paal would still not forgive what had just happened to him.

"He apologised for what he'd done. Looked me in the eye and said it was wrong and begged my forgiveness," the lion replied and then added. "He also saved my life by killing the Dread Wyrm Canlon. Then he stole half of the Wyrm's treasure horde and gave it to my people to help them rebuild the towns and villages the Wyrm had pillaged."

"That is impressive," admitted Paal.

"He is an impressive man. He asked me to be his second and I accepted." Barrow took a deep breath. "Everything a king should be I have seen in my friend. Compassion, intelligence, mercy and strength. When he takes the throne our kingdom will be a far better part of this world and I will do what I can to help him. Assuming I survive I suppose."

"You are strong and young. If your wound does not reopen you should be ok," Paal sighed softly. "If I had known I would have... tried for more magic. If I was a proper mage and not a tantric I would be able to heal both myself and you fully."

A strange noise slipped out of Barrow's throat, then there was silence. Paal closed his eyes and tried to block the pain out. After almost an hour the lion stirred under him, "If..." The lone word was whispered and yet almost deafening. Paal could guess what the lion was struggling with and part of him greatly wanted it too. "Are you..." Paal smiled, just a little to think of the knight, so brave and strong he could face an army, yet so timid he could not ask a simple question.

"I am able, but my knowledge of your people is that you prefer to stay chaste before marriage," Paal replied quietly. There was another reason why he had not suggested the obvious solution to both their problems, but it was a difficult thing to explain to another.

"I... may be a virgin, but I can understand our needs at the moment," the lion replied and the idea died in Paal's mind.

"A need filled... is that all anyone will ever desire of me?" He whispered, more to himself than to the lion, but it was a question that had grown in his mind ever since that first time. Sex for the power to do something, save a loved one to heal some wound that had never fully healed. One time to help grow back a limb removed after an accident. That first time had been so different, so much more passionate and exciting. They wanted it, they both wanted it for no other sake than to be had and to have. Two teenage boys in the stables, exploring for the sheer joy of being together.

Barrow's silence was deafening and the rabbit sighed. Paal's paw slid down the male's chest and stomach until it reached a plump and furry sheath and he heard a deep moan emerge from Barrow's lips. His fingers squeezed and jerked the furry sheath and he could feel it beginning, a small trickle of energy flowing into him already. Pushing that energy into his own healing, his paw began to stroke faster and faster.

Soon, his fingers grasped not just a plump sheath, but a fat and swelling feline cock. Tiny barbs tickling his fingers as they stroked his patient to erection. However, he was stopped by a paw, a huge mitt gripping around his wrist and pulling his paw clear. "I... cannot imagine the life you have led. However, I understand that when one has power, others will always try to get you to use it for them." Barrow's voice was trembling a little. "So I say this to you and I speak from the heart, in most sincere earnest. I would rather die than be the last in a line of people to use such a noble and wonderful person as yourself."

The paw on his wrist slid slowly up his arm and to his cheek, where the lion cleaned away a tear even Paal had not been aware he had shed. "However, my duty, in the end, is to marry not for love but to honour my father's wishes. My virginity is saved for a night with some female, whose name it will not be my destiny to pick. The only chance for love being that I might, in the years to come, grow to love her."

Barrow leaned his head down closer to Paal, so close he could feel the warmth and taste the sweetness of his breath. Those golden eyes seemed to glow in the dim light until the rabbit lost himself in their gaze. "With that in mind and with the kinship I have felt growing with you, I would say for once in my life duty could go hang. I would like to lay with you, not for your powers or for pleasure, or even to heal myself. I would like to lay with you so that when I look back I can say I had one night of passion with someone truly amazing, someone beautiful and gentle and giving. Someone who I can say I am proud to have given myself to and that I did it not for fealty, loyalty, duty, honour, the kingdom or any other reason than I desired him and he desired of me. I believe you are such a person and I do want you so very strongly. If you are willing... no not willing, wanting. If you want of me, to lay with me, say so now and if not stay silent and I will speak of it no more. However, I will always have a special place in my heart for one who showed such friendship when he had no reason to, and every reason not to."

As the last of those words echoed in his ears Paal's mind raced with a million questions. Faced with a world of unknowns he let his heart make the choice. A soft whisper into the world, "Yes... I am wanting."

Paal felt his heart racing, those golden eyes moved closer, his entire body trembled. Then he felt the warmth of lips pressing to his and he moaned. The softness and tenderness melted his heart, his paws went up to caress the lion's face. His fingers stroking Barrow's cheek lovingly and then moved into his thick mane. Their tongues met with a touch that was electric and wonderful and he lost himself to that feeling. No pressure, no time limits, just the bliss of sharing something sweet, with someone sweeter.

Soft sweet moaned were exchanged, while their tongues danced together. A strong paw gripped around Paal's wrist and pulled it down to the lion's chest. His fingers traced around the firm muscles, through the fur. He could feel the heart under that chest beating strongly, it was racing to match his own. With a gentle touch, his fingers ran over the soft nub of one of Barrow's nipples. A deep purr suddenly erupted from the chest he was partly laying over.

Barrow's paw had returned to his head, caressing Paal's cheeks and ears. The huge mitt cupped the back of his head. While under him Paal was reminded that he was laying over half of the lion, including one arm. A strong paw started to stroke his thighs, moving slowly up and down his inner thighs. With barely contained passion he moaned into Barrow's muzzle, their kiss growing more passionate with each passing heartbeat.

That paw stroked up and up until the rabbit felt it brush against his furry orbs. His breath caught in his throat, it had been so long since anyone had touched him with his pleasure in their mind. Their kiss was broken as golden, strong, fingers wrapped around his maleness. His arms grasped the lion desperately tightly, just enjoying the feeling of a strong man to hold.

He buried his face in the broad expanse of feline chest, his nose drowning in the musky scent of a powerful male. His breath soaking that silky soft wheat coloured fur, he began to kiss the firm chest, nibbling softly on those huge pecs. Paal moaned out as Barrow's paw began to move sliding up and down his manhood slowly, tantalisingly. The pleasure of every moment a promise that this was just the beginning.

More than the feeling of sexual pleasure there was a feeling he didn't expect. Energy, he could feel it building inside him. He was too lost to the moment to channel it properly, however, his body knew what to do, the pain in his back faded away from a sharp ache, to a dull hum and eventually to nothing at all. This had never happened before, he had jerked himself off before and his magic had never grown. His energy came from pleasuring others, his own pleasure had only ever lessened the energy he walked away with.

As that paw jerked him faster and faster, he looked up at the lion. Only to find Barrow was looking down at him, the expression on his face was beautiful; happy and full of desire. Those golden eyes were shining, in a soft glow that Paal was giving off. He made no attempt to hide it and Barrow wasn't recoiling. If anything he was drawing closer.

That paw around his maleness, squeezed as it jerked faster and faster. Paal trembled as he knew he could not last long. His cock was tingling with the warm touch of his feline lover. Lifting himself up a little the rabbit pressed his lips to Barrow's desperately, holding nothing back he began to thrust against that paw. The need to orgasm growing quickly inside him, he kissed Barrow desperately and passionately.

A warm paw engulfed his cheek and Paal felt safe, protected and loved. He didn't fight his orgasm he embraced it. Paal's cock throbbed and he cried out in bliss against Barrow's lips, as he shot jet after jet of bunny seed onto the lion and his tattered robes. Barrow's paw didn't stop until Paal whispered, "stop." He was panting and smiling, the feeling of energy filling him was wonderful, it left a warm glow in his chest. However, that warm glow was pure ice by comparison to the heated emotions that he was feeling for the lion.

"Thank you," Paal whispered softly, kissing Barrow's cheek and panting. He lay himself down on the lion, his paws stroking ideally through the feline's fur, while he recovered. His body was tingling with energy, so his recovery took almost no time at all. Barrow just lay back, purring softly as Paal's paws stroked around and over his chest and stomach. The purring getting louder each Paal's paw strayed lower down.

Paal suppressed a chuckle, as he could clearly see the leaking feline cock. It was clear that Barrow was eagerly anticipating his touch, and part of the rabbit wanted to draw that feeling out. The teasing lasting a few seconds longer. Then Paal's paw accidentally slipped too close to the wound in Barrow's side and he heard the sharp intake of breath and felt the feline jump under his paws, in a bad way. "Sorry, " the rabbit whispered.

Feeling a little guilty at causing his lover some pain, and moreso for the realisation that he should heal his friend first and tease afterwards, Paal slid his body down Barrow's quickly. His paw grasped the drooling and throbbing shaft. He wasted no time, pressing his lips around the tip and sucking softly. Barrow moaned deeply and bucked his hips, just a little.

Moaning at the taste and feel, Paal closed his eyes as he sank down the full length. The musky scent flooded his nose, as the bitter taste of sweat washed over his tongue. However, that taste faded quickly, turning into the earthy taste of a healthy male, with a slight hint of saffron and honey. Paal pressed down taking in as much of the thick length as he could. His paw slipped up the lion and to his wound, he bobbed his head rapidly drinking down the drops of watery pre and absorbing waves of pure, raw, tantric energy.

The glow from his paw grew brighter, Paal hoped to those outside it looked just like candlelight. Though there was not even a hint of a thought of stopping in his mind. He forgot the outside world as a large paw landed on his head. For a moment he expected Barrow to suddenly start to thrust or to hold his head down. However, the paw just stroked his ears and hair softly. While the tent filled with deep gasps and moans.

Barrow's breathing was growing faster and faster. While inside Paal he could feel the energy growing, with each moment he used that tantric power to send it into the lion. From the throbbing of cock against his tongue, he knew that Barrow was moments away from his peak. With a soft moan of his own Paal redoubled his efforts, his other paw cradled the lion's golden orbs.

Each passing second Paal felt the power inside him growing and growing, in a way it had never done with any other lover. His entire body was alive, the energy seemed to make every moment, every sensation a thousandfold more intense. The feel of Barrow's soft barbs, the scent and taste. It was unlike any sexual experience he had ever had. He was utterly lost to the sensations, his own cock was achingly hard, he knew this was not going to be the end, he wanted more, needed more.

His lips squeezed around the cock desperately, feeling those spines tickle. He bobbed faster and faster, feeling that thickness pushing to the back of his throat. Barrow's voice was lifting louder and he could feel the lion tensing. He knew that this was the first time anyone had taken this cock in any way. The feline was unprepared to resist the needs and urges inside him. His strong hips began to buck wildly, Paal was experienced enough to hold still and just let his partner fuck his muzzle.

With each passing moment, Barrow's moans got louder, and Paal knew he was edging closer and closer to his first real orgasm. He blushed to think he was bringing such pleasure to such a sweet man. A strong man and yet so very gentle. Even lost to the throes of passion Barrow's paws had never grabbed his head, or looked to hold him down. Instead, the lion trusted him to give him pleasure, Barrow was letting Paal pleasure him and not just taking his pleasure from Paal. The rabbit had never realised how different that was and how wonderful this type of passion could feel.

Every moment the energy surged within him more and more. Then he felt the cock in his mouth throb, half a heartbeat before Barrow's voice lifted up in a mixed cry and roar. There were no words in that voice and yet the meaning was clear to any who heard it, bliss and pleasure uncontrollable had filled him in a way he couldn't comprehend. The first jet of lion cream hit the back of his throat and he resisted the urge to cough, swallowing it down hungrily as he swallowed down the raw tantric power.

Jet after jet was shot and swallowed, the musky and milky flavour pleasant on his tongue. Not that he cared about the taste, all his mind was bent on was bringing as much pleasure to Barrow as he could, to making his first time something the lion would never forget or regret. His ears twitched as he thought he heard voices from outside, and he wished the two were somewhere far from other eyes and ears. The voices grew faint and just for a moment, he felt the energy inside him lessen.

There was no time to think on it though as the thrashing and thrusting lion cock bucked a little harder and pulled free from his lips. Several jets of feline spunk landed on his face as he panted softly just watching the beautiful pink shining maleness, with the rivers of milky seed flowing down. The jets turned to dribbles and eventually stopped and he heard Barrow panting as if he had just finished sparring ten men in a row.

Paal lifted his paw off the lion to check his wound, only to find nothing beneath but golden fur. His own back felt as if the previous day had never happened. In fact, he felt a million times better than he'd ever felt before. Although there was a strange haze to his mind, a drunkenness he couldn't quite place, he'd not touched a drop since the war started and he was certain there was nothing alcoholic about lion cum, no matter how many shots of it he had drunk.

However, in his strangely drunken state, he found himself unable to focus on much. He forgot completely about the voices he'd heard moments before. All he knew was there was a lion warrior laying before him, with an erect and drooling shaft. Felines and lapines are both well known for their virility and it was no shock to him that even an orgasm as powerful as Barrow's first wasn't enough to satisfy him. Which was a great boon for the rabbit, for he felt desperately needy for more.

A few moments after the flow of cum had stopped and Paal started to move. He leapt onto the lion, knees landing either side of Barrow's thick muscular waist. Barrow's eyes looked up at him, golden, desperate, needy and strangely glowing. There was a dopey smile on the lion's lips and Paal leant down to kiss it. While an eager paw reached behind to grab Barrow's cock and guide it as the rabbit lowered his hips.

He tasted Barrow's sweet breath once more as the lion gasped when the rabbit's warm pucker kissed his cocktip hello. The kiss was just a slight peck before Paal drove his hips down. Their voices combined in a cry of pure bestial passion, as Pal felt himself become full with lion cock. Barrow bucked up into him desperately as Paal's warm depths clenched around that member. Paal drove himself down quickly, taking in the lion's full length in one swift motion.

"A..are you ok?" He panted softly, words seemed strangely wrong. This wasn't a time for talking, his body was screaming at him to ride the feline, to squeeze every last drop from his balls. However, he knew this was Barrow's first.

Barrow looked up, his eyes glazed over and still glowing slightly. Paal guessed he had pushed too much energy into the lion when healing him, he knew what it was like to feel charged up. He was feeling the same, he'd never felt so powerful after just a tug and oral and yet just sitting on Barrow's cock was giving him more raw energy than he'd ever felt even with an entire night with D'lian. Not that it mattered to him, what mattered was Barrow, and given what he'd said maybe his only time. It was important that it be special.

"I am, my... Paal," the lion replied flushed and embarrassed. Felines and noble felines especially liked to keep all conversation formal. However, it was clear that calling Paal my friend when he was hilt deep inside the rabbit felt wrong. "This is... wonderful, I feel so alive and awake. I feel stronger than a dozen men and you feel like a wonderful warm dream. A K'tanti angel sent to bring me to Sarval before my time." It was Pal's turn to flush, Sarval was where the lion's believed they went when they died, if they were good, a land of pleasure eternal.

His paws rested on Barrow's chest, they could feel the vibrations of his purring. There was no doubt that the lion was enjoying himself and that he was ready for more. Paal leant closer, his tiny pink nose pressing to Barrow's broad one, their lips almost touching as he whispered, "we're just getting started." The rabbit attacked on two fronts, a powerful military tactic. His lips kissing the lion desperately and passionately, while his hips began to bounce. He used the strength of his lapine thighs to fuck himself down with a speed and power few other lovers could match.

With moans and gasps of pleasure, Barrow returned with an assault of his own. Using his brute force to thrust up, their hips smacking together with the sound of a lusty thunderclap. His thickness reaming the rabbit's ass deeper and harder than he'd ever been fucked. Their lips were locked together and Pal's fingers clutched at the soft fur of the lion's shaggy chest. While he felt the raw energy being pumped into him faster than any had ever, he couldn't control it and it leaked out of him.

The tent was lit up as bright as midday, golden light coming from them both. Their eyes both glowed as they stared deeply into one another. His paws pressed down onto the lion as he returned the energy and yet all that seemed to do was drive Barrow to greater and more desperate heights. The thrusting inside him was wild, frantic, the unskilled thrustings of a gifted amateur. While, his own bucking was far more controlled and experienced, he rode that thrusting cock like a master, squeezing and pulling it deeper inside him.

It was no surprise that Barrow lost their first bout. His paws grabbing the rabbit's ass with such strength and squeezing like Paal' was his own property. His thrusting growing in intensity, as the lion roared out, pressing his mouth into Paal's neck to muffle his screams of pure joy. While inside the rabbit thick fountains of lion spunk were jetted from a pulsing feline cock. Paal kept riding, his own cock drooling a river of pre onto his lover. He knew that in a few moments Barrow would be spent and he would let his lover recover before offering a second round.

However, as the moments passed, Barrow's cock grew neither soft nor still. Instead, it kept fucking as if he was still only moments into his rut and not moments after giving his seed. Lion's are known for their virility, but Paal knew even they had to rest between bouts. There was no time to think on this, as that thick cock plunged into his drooling ass it found his pleasure button again and again. A warm paw suddenly grasped his cock and it was Paal's turn to lose control.

He squirmed on Barrow's lap, a motion that made the lion snarl with desire. While his rabbit seed sprayed in ropes over the lion's chest and face. He blushed as he noticed Barrow licking cum from his lips. A small detail and yet it made his cock throb harder. With each moment he expected to reach the point of exhaustion, to beg Barrow for a moment to rest. Yet it never came, instead, he found himself thrusting down harder and faster. His cock drooling the last of his orgasm onto the lion's chest.

Through a sex and magic fuelled haze his brain realised the tantric energy he had been infused with, that he had infused Barrow with was driving them both. They were lost to their lusts and the more they mated, the more energy they had. Part of his mind worried that this was not safe, but it was silenced by the rest that craved Barrow's cock. His world suddenly turned, as Barrow grabbed the rabbit and pushed him back. He landed on his back, the foot of the cot pressing to his head.

The lion trapped Paal's legs against his chest, bending the rabbit double. They kissed, a sloppy passionate kiss, as their fucking continued. The feline's cock rutting down without a moment's pause, reaming the tight squealing rabbit rump for all it was worth. Paal's paws grabbed at the lion, holding his mane desperately tightly as his body was alive with more pleasure than he'd ever felt. So much raw passion, so much energy and magic. He couldn't think, he could hardly breathe. All he could do was submit to the rutting beast on top of him, but that was all he desired anyway.

Barrow roared into his neck as he came again, his hips barely slowing as he pumped a second load of lion seed into his desperate lover. Paal responded in kind, his cock shooting more streams of cum onto the lion's stomach. Neither one of them slowed or asked to stop as they gave themselves over to the moment. Paal felt oddly serene as Barrow bred him like a wild animal. He lost himself in the eyes of his lover, while his body writhed in beastial pleasure his mind dreamed in those eyes.

He felt another load of cum being shot into him, and he could feel warm rivers trickling out of his ass, He cried out giving his lover another load in return. It felt strangely distant, he was aware of the pleasure but somehow it was a secondary concern. Paal just looked into those eyes and felt the love as if it were some tangible physical thing, he could feel it around him. He relaxed into the feeling smiling as he returned the embrace with one of his own.

The sun was high by the time Paal woke, he expected to feel tired. Instead, he felt energised. He had lost track of how many times he had came last night, or how many times Barrow had emptied inside him. Paal expected to ache and yet instead everything felt soothed and right as if they'd spent the night doing nothing at all. Their bodies had mated until they could do so no more and then they had fallen asleep in each other's arms.

Barrow was laying spooned up behind him, the huge lion's powerful arms around him, holding close. Paal gave a soft happy sigh and leant back against his lover. This was what he'd always missed, the part of sex that he wanted to have. The moments afterwards, the intimacy of being with someone holding an being held. He closed his eyes for a moment and just soaked up the pure joy of the moment and the feeling.

Paal wanted to turn, to look at the lion's face. However, he knew if he did he would wake the lion and he sighed knowing that he should let the feline sleep. Barrow had a long road ahead of him, although healed he would be easily able to manage the journey. It was still best to face it rested, besides he worried that once he woke Barrow might want to be on his way. That could lead to awkward conversations with the other healers of the camp. Especially Lord Carrol and Zur who knew the extent of Barrow's and his own injuries. Gifted at healing the rabbit maybe, but only magic could heal such wounds in a night.

His eyes glanced at the glowing orb of a sun he could see through the tent canvas. Paal frowned, it was nearly midday, Zur was supposed to check on them early in the morning. His ears, sensitive as only a rabbit's could be, even on the quietest day he would be able to hear things; conversations, people walking, the rattle of the guards' amour, the sound of carts. There was nothing but the sounds of the wind in the grass and the song call of some birds. Then his eyes fell down from the canvass and he jumped back away from the edge of the cot in shock. Waking Barrow as he did so.

"Mmmmm good morning," the cat purred into his ear. Only Paal was panting, his heart racing in panic. He pushed back against the lion for the warmth and strength behind him, it felt reassuring. "What is wrong, my friend?" Barrow asked carefully, his strong arms pulling tighter around Paal, protectively.

"L...look at the floor." The rabbit whispered as he tried not to panic too much."

The lion glanced down and shrugged, "it's grass."

"You don't see it?" Paal asked. " This tent has been here a week, I have been in it a week, walking, working. Laying on it. Look again."

Barrow frowned as he tried to figure out what was so scary about an indoor lawn. Then he saw it, a cowslip and next he saw a poppy, next to a young thistle. His own breathing grew far more controlled as his muscles tensed. It was meadow that had never been trampled on at all, not a single blade was bent or flattened. "That... is not the floor you lay on last night. I... can't hear anything outside, can you?"

"Nothing but the birds singing," Paal replied and then he began to move. Pulling free he stretched a leg over the floor, reaching down slowly as if the floor might suddenly bite his leg off. His furry toes pressed down onto the fresh meadow grass floor. He exhaled as nothing happened and then he stood up. Barrow, was behind him, standing quickly the lion grabbed the tent door flap and stuck his head outside. "What do you see?"

"Trees," the lion replied and threw the flap of material as wide open as he could. Paal could see a meadow leading to a densely wooded forest. There was no sign of other people, of the camp or any hint of civilisation. "Do you have any idea where we are?"

Paal stepped outside and turned around, "No...wait!" He paused as something familiar caught his eye. "There, that mountain! I have seen it before... It's Mountain Passi." The rabbit looked around and in his mind, he tried to picture maps of his homeland to work out where they were. "I think... that is the forest of Rist, about twenty leagues from the borders of our kingdoms." The rabbit said in astonishment.

"How did we get here?" Barrow asked with a frown on his face.

Paal shrugged his shoulders, "magic... I think."

"Ah, do you know the way back to my kingdom," the lion asked as he began to retrieve his armour from the tent and buckle it on.

"Yes... I think," Paal felt oddly sad to hear that Barrow's first thoughts were of going home, of leaving him. He stared at the horizon and wondered what had he done. There was something else strange, he could still feel it, some of the power from the night before was still with him, and it wasn't fading. The power had always faded so fast before, he wondered what it could mean.

A strong paw landed on his shoulder and he turned to see Barrow in full armour. Truly a sight to behold, shining silver in the noonday sun, his huge mane tossed about by the wind, shimmering in the light. His eyes and face smiling, yet retaining a proud regality that few species could match. "Would you do me the honour of accompanying me on my journey, my friend?"

"To the border?" Paal asked, a few days travelling with the lion sounded nice.

"No, to my home and when we get there for as long as you wish to stay by my side." The lion replied and Paal felt his heart pounding in his chest, it was beating so hard he feared it might burst.

"I... would, and thank you, my... friend." He whispered and blinked away a tear that had come unbidden to his eye.

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