{"sf1_id":1548377,"sf2_id":"Rm00YkRm","title":"The Northern Path","author":"Jubatian","words":5834,"posted_at":"2020-02-18T19:56:00.000Z","tags":["Adventure","Fantasy","Snow","Vore (soft)","Winter","north"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1548377-the-northern-path","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/Rm00YkRm","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/52/e8/52e88aab-17f0-43f0-bcb7-d3069f8c32db","description":"(2016)\nThis was a gift story for someone on FurAffinity, a quite fun experience.\nWell, hope it turned out okay, the concept was a bit difficult to cope with! :)\nSo I got about these:\n- The creature: a pouched land-dweller with white-grey coloring.\n- The story: (S)he should gulp down someone, and someone else should coax him/her to release.\nWell, it is up for judgement what I could get out from it.\nThe Snowrunner is depicted here: https://www.sofurry.com/view/1548379\nFor a twist, I also threw in a Cheetaan Universe race, the Shiriats. If interested, there are a few images and details on them in my gallery.","content":"The northern path  \n  \n  \n  \nA small tent in the middle of the wilderness against the frozen lumbering mass  \nof winter. Only a slight haze of purple lingered on the southern edge of the  \nhorizon even though it wasn't long past noon. Martin rested on his back  \nwrapped up in his sleeping bag, looking up on the canvas, weak and lost in his  \nthoughts.  \n  \nThey made it through the north, but delayed. Winter arrived upon them,  \npressing even as they steadily progressed southwest. Snow, snow, and even more  \nsnow was all they saw since months. They ran out of supplies. They could hunt,  \nbut they were past their greens with no chance to replenish. Deprivation, the  \nhints of scurvy was already upon them. Terry endured it better, or it seemed  \nso. He asked him to go hunting this time despite his uneasiness. He needed  \nrest.  \n  \nWhy were they going?  \n  \nWhere were they heading?  \n  \nHe pondered, but sometimes he felt he couldn't answer anymore. Fleeing from a  \ncertain demise towards a less certain one. Delaying the inevitable.  \n  \nThere was no future there. Shortages were only growing the more common. His  \nold friend he knew since settling in the town, Terry, was an engineer at the  \nwoodcutters. He was meant to maintain their gear and vehicles. But it seemed  \nlike a few years and there wasn't any reason anymore to maintain them for  \nthere was no fuel to run them.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; And him? He was already a rogue, a poacher by then. He lost his job, ending up  \nwith her. Tayga, with whom they saved each other.  \n  \nShe wasn't his wife even though it probably passed Terry's mind if they were  \nindeed in such a relation. Martin never married as he never quite found his  \nplace. Except for one thing. He was a zookeeper. And Tayga was a huge  \nsnowrunner.  \n  \n\\* \\* \\*  \n  \nThese beasts were large, their shoulder rising higher than a man's head, and  \nthey only appeared even larger for their long but robust neck and tail. They  \nwere the fearsome, gruesome white shadows of the cold north with countless  \nhorrid stories of men caught and buried alive in their neck-pouch, to be  \nconsumed days later at their convenience. They were known to be very  \nintelligent and even capable to show compassion, but were also regarded  \nuncontrollable, unpredictable with many accidents, frequently fatal.  \n  \nYet she accepted him. Maybe for they were about the same age, and she was  \nalone. They were known to be solitary, but exhibited immense boredom and  \nother apparent mental problems in captivity, impossible to remedy.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Direct handling of these gargantuan carnivores was generally prohibited, the  \nfew zoos holding them were equipped with proper locking systems to completely  \neliminate the need for it, however the town was already falling apart when  \nMartin arrived. Nobody cared, and he could meticulously establish contact  \nwith her without being mauled.  \n  \nHe wasn't afraid of locking himself in with her at nights. There were a few  \naccidents, a few serious wounds, but he understood, and she learned to be  \ngentle with him, very much seeking out for his companionship. He grew attached  \nto her, not heeding when later due to the shortages her rations were cut. She  \nwas clearly hungry, yet managed to restrain herself. Martin could see it, he  \ncould see how she fights with her urge to hunt to prevent hurting him. Her  \nintelligence was astounding. She was aware of herself. She deliberately drove  \nMartin out of her exhibit before feeding after an accident when she mauled him  \nin a frenzy. She learned to wait herself to calm down before calling him in  \nagain.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; That was also about when Martin started poaching with Terry's consent in the  \nless trodden regions of the forest. It baffled him, but he accepted, seeing he  \nwasn't seeking for opportunities for himself.  \n  \nIt didn't last for long. A few years, and the complete dismantling of the zoo  \nwas announced. Martin collapsed, Terry scooped him up from a pub. He spent his  \nnights with Tayga who became outright dangerous. Her clock was ticking away.  \nThe butchery, for the carnivores, a bullet in the skull. She couldn't know,  \nbut she sensed Martin's turmoil.  \n  \nOne morning they found a huge segment of the old, unmaintained exhibit  \ndestroyed, with neither Tayga, nor Martin anywhere near town. The latter was a  \nmystery for only Tayga's traces could be observed, leading far away, past the  \nnorthern boundary of the forest. It only made it more mysterious that two days  \nlater Martin's small apartment was broken in, the traces of the burglar again  \nleading far north where nobody dared to follow them. These just didn't piece  \ntogether in any sane manner.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; It could have ended here, an unsolved mystery, but for Terry the thread  \ncontinued. A month later he received a letter from Martin whom he thought  \ndeceased, asking for a meet by a spring on the edge of the forestry. He  \nthought it a bad joke until checking for footprints around his small hut  \nrevealed a fresh trace heading north.  \n  \nMartin, in flesh and blood, was indeed there, alone, quite worn, but seemingly  \nin adequate health. He refused to uncover how he ended up there, only  \nadmitting he was living with Tayga. After Terry got past his initial shock,  \nthey discussed some, agreeing in some trade of supplies, ending up mentioning  \nthe Shiriats, a lunacy as far as Terry was concerned, to pass north of the  \nBurani Sea to reach their supposed established nation.  \n  \nA lunacy, maybe. But that was also a small lunacy what was going on in town,  \nwith the woodcutting as far as he was concerned. There was no fuel. There were  \nno alternatives. If they had oxen, they wouldn't have had hay for them. And so  \nthey saw the most severe firewood shortage they ever had, coupled with major  \nshortages of anything else fitting to fire the stoves and furnaces. Many died  \nthat winter due to the cold. The warmongery on the south took its toll on the  \nhinterland.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Martin however lived, worn by the harshness of winter, but was still there in  \nSpring, along with Tayga who was seemingly still attached to him.  \n  \nTerry had it enough then. There was no sanity in governance, there was nothing  \nto rely upon, and he knew he could end up enrolled if he took any other path  \nthan the lunacy of the north towards those lands taken by the aliens he barely  \nknew.  \n  \nThey waited only until they could acquire adequate supplies and then they set  \nout for it, leaving all behind.  \n  \n\\* \\* \\*  \n  \nTerry didn't get along well with her.  \n  \nHours passed. Martin laid on his back, contemplating under the canvas. He was  \nweak. But he should have gone hunting. If anything happened, Tayga would have  \nbeen there with him. But he already missed that train.  \n  \nHe could only hope for the best.  \n  \nIt was very late when he heard the familiar faint but heavy crunches of snow  \nunder the snowrunner's webbed feet as she approached the camp. He started to  \nscoop himself up to welcome her, expecting to meet Terry first in the tent.  \nThe outside however remained silent apart from the faint breaths. Where was  \nhim?  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; For a brief moment it passed his mind whether it was a wild beast making him  \npreparing his gun, but he dropped that possibility. He knew her footsteps and  \nthat any other of her kin wouldn't lay idle near his tent. With a bit of  \ncaution he stepped outside.  \n  \nDrops of blood along her tracks. He noticed them even before he looked up her,  \nresting by the side of the tent, alone. Traces of red stained her jowls,  \nrunning down her neck onto a very much filled pouch. Martin gazed at his  \ncompanion bewildered for moments before realizing she at least needed medical  \nattention.  \n  \nSeeing the task at hand, as usual, he prepared for cleaning and attending the  \nwound proper. She simply wasn't like an animal even seeking for care herself,  \nsomething very unusual and very convenient in this harsh world where she  \nreceived injuries occasionally. It didn't appear severe so he swiftly  \nrekindled their fire to boil water to somewhat sterilize some piece of cloth  \nhe intended to use, until then he approached her to examine.  \n  \nHe gently stroked her which she returned with small touches of her tongue,  \nthen felt for her hanging jowl, the red stains to locate their source. A  \nsmall, circular hole still oozing. A bullet.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Tayga was shot. Terry wasn't anywhere. An absolutely no mans land many dozen  \nmiles north of that rumored to be taken by the Shirirat. What the hell  \nhappened?!  \n  \nHer filled pouch. It dawned upon him. He immediately toned down his shock.  \nKeep calm and clear. Could be the first rule of handling dangerous animals.  \n\"Terry, are you in there?\" Movements, a muffled reply choked by a tight  \ncontraction. He gently stroked Tayga's neck hoping to coax her to loosen. He  \ncouldn't know what happened, but it was serious and Tayga was too intelligent  \nto be ignored. Martin was perfectly sure she remembered and was completely  \naware of Terry being there. He had to comfort her first.  \n  \nFirst, he had to treat her wound like normal. He quickly assessed the  \nimmediate situation realizing the hunt succeed, her distended belly resting  \nbefore her lazily stretched out hind legs. She was full. Her body was content,  \nwaiting for him to relieve her from the nuisance of her injury. There was  \ntime.  \n  \nHe managed to get her loosen a bit. He urged Terry to stay idle no matter  \nwhat, not heeding his protests which Tayga choked in him anyway by her  \nagitated contractions. He continued examining her wound, realizing the bullet  \nonly damaged fat and some minor veins as it entered from a flat angle,  \ndampened out by the soft tissue of her thick dewlap. He heated forceps  \ndeciding on removal. Tayga jolted but endured without any movement to harm  \nhim. It was out, a bullet from the small handguns they both carried. He left  \nthe wound open, the slight bleeding cleaning it, nothing for the gargantuan  \nbeast. He comforted her gently massaging, rubbing away blood stains. She  \nrested her muzzle on his shoulder making him feel her pleasant warm exhales.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; One long, one slightly shorter. A small fraction of every second exhale  \ndiverted into her filled pouch, keeping the prey alive and fresh for later,  \nwhich unfortunate prey was his friend.  \n  \n\\* \\* \\*  \n  \n\"Stay idle, remain calm. Don't move.\" He commanded Terry as he managed to  \nslowly coax Tayga into loosening. She was agitated but her body was pleased  \nwhich helped, comforting her from the inside wishing to just rest, to laze, to  \nslacken every muscle. He kept working on her caressing, seeing how it calmed  \nher, her pouch settling limp in the snow, and he could discern its upper end  \nslightly expanding and collapsing, a cycle repeating for every second breath.  \n  \nTerry tried to talk. He could make out the first word, but what followed died  \nout by a sudden contraction. \"Tayga, no. Rest, just rest. Calm. It's okay.\"  \nHe laid in the snow allowing her to lay her muzzle on his torso.  \n  \nHe was unsure of what to do. Tayga trusted him. He probably could sneak on  \nher to deliver a swift fatal shot in her skull to save Terry for the moment.  \nBut he loathed even the thought of that. They would die without her. She cared  \nfor them. She even saved them from a pack of hungry howlers, and she didn't do  \nthat merely by instinct. She was intelligent, a true companion, understanding  \nmany things better than he anticipated. She was his friend just as much as  \nTerry, probably even more. He couldn't bear the though of doing such an  \ninsidious deed to her.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; If only he was there on that hunt! But he couldn't change that.  \n  \nShe had her own mind on the thing. He could only coax her to slacken, to laze,  \nto buy some time. He had to play his role in her game if he wanted to keep  \nTerry alive.  \n  \nIt was late, she was full, and despite her uneasiness she was sleepy, her  \nbody, every sense of her called for a pleasant rest. She was in control and  \nMartin knew she was aware of it. He remained by her side until she seemingly  \ndozed off, then returned into the solitude of the tent to try to think, to  \ndevise something.  \n  \nAll he could put his hopes in was her intelligence. She was aware of Terry.  \nShe knew well they were friends. Whatever happened, for her to return in this  \nmanner to him was cruel if she really intended to devour him. He hoped she  \ndidn't really want to do that. At least he knew she could release. But he  \nreally wasn't sure how they worked, whether she might forget whatever she had  \nin her mind and devour him. He had to coax her to release as soon as possible.  \n  \nWeakness. He laid on his back staring the canvas. Death which they could evade  \nuntil now. It could still be many hundred miles until the nearest settlement  \nif there was even any.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; A rustle. He forgot to zip up the tent's door. The large white head. She came  \nto rest by his side, her exhales soon building up tangible warmth in the  \nenclosed place despite the sizable gaps by her neck. He stroked her. He  \nrealized they could hardly have some peace together since the start of their  \njourney, maybe except on the hunts. He dropped off the heaviest of his clothes  \nas she tickled him with the tips of her tongue in a pleasant, playful manner.  \n  \nThey gently teased each other. Her wound broke open spilling some blood, but  \nMartin ceased to care apart from trying to soak it up in a single cloth,  \npreventing it staining the interior. He groomed her, massaged her soft spots  \nwhich she enjoyed in delight, almost as if she just gulped down Terry to  \nsafely put him aside, an obstacle between her and Martin. Occasionally she  \nraised her head slightly and lashed out her tongue on the side onto the blood  \nstained cloth, the taste seemingly blissful to her, oblivious of its source.  \n  \nShe slowly dozed off laying on her side, occasionally still flicking tongue  \neven in her dream, still swallowing little bits like if she had something to  \neat. Martin kept softly stroking her until reaching down to the pouch, resting  \ncompletely slackened mostly outside of the tent.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \\* \\* \\*  \n  \n\"Calm. She is asleep. Are you okay? What happened?\"  \n  \nTerry responded weakly.  \n  \n\"Hell no! Martin! Why don't you do anything! I am dying here!\"  \n  \n\"Are you injured? Did she maul you? Pain?\"  \n  \n\"Martin, you idiot, I am inside her! She is gonna digest me!\"  \n  \n\"Damn Terry, calm down! Seriously, is there any immediate problem?\"  \n  \n\"Apart from these being my last hours if you aren't going to put her down,  \nsure, no.\"  \n  \n\"Terry, they don't digest in their pouch. I am here. Rest, stay calm, and she  \nwon't choke you either. Be patient. I will try to get you released next day.\"  \n  \n\"Martin, you can't do this to me! Can you imagine what it is like to be  \nhere?!\"  \n  \n\"I can. I was in her before.\"  \n  \nHe briefly explained, finally revealing the mystery of his disappearance from  \ntown. He was with Tayga that night, he wanted to be with her, but couldn't  \nbear her gentle teasing trying to cheer him up. It was only days until she was  \nto be killed. He pushed her muzzle aside, repeatedly. He lost control,  \nsomething he shouldn't have done in the proximity of her, he cried out, stood  \nup to yell, to curse the world.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; It confused her ending up causing her to attack. She pinned him down, tore  \noff some of his clothes before gulping him down. He almost panicked, but what  \nfollowed appalled him even more.  \n  \n\"Terry, it is one thing to be down there. I knew I was in the zoo. She wasn't  \nfed since a while. I expected her to rest and devour me. But she didn't remain  \nidle! I felt her immense strength as she repeatedly pranced and rammed against  \nsomething. I knew she was attempting to demolish her exhibit! Can you imagine  \nwhat it is like to see a disaster happening and you can't do anything to avert  \nit?! Seriously, if I had any weapon, we wouldn't be here now! I felt when the  \nfence gave way and I prepared for the worst. But she didn't go rampaging in  \ntown! A long steady march, her motions cradled me. It was peace. I didn't care  \nabout myself. She broke out and fled without bloodshed.\"  \n  \nTerry remained silent for a while. Then, slowly, he started.  \n  \n\"Damn Martin... I... Just please do whatever you can without harming her. I  \ndidn't follow your directions. I tried to take a thigh of that elk. Hell, no,  \nI mean it. I fired a warning shot... I couldn't imagine she was so swift and  \ndirect. She disarmed me, I was pinned before I could realize what happened. I  \ndrew my handgun but missed, she immediately snapped on my wrist, the coat  \ndampened it, but I dropped the gun. She pulled and threw me, ripping off my  \nclothes. I tried to escape using my knives, but failed. I have bruises. I had  \nonly my lighter when she ate me. I could light it, burning her gullet. I fell.  \nShe squeezed the air out of me. She constricted me until you came. Hell...\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Shit. She still kept you alive. Your shot didn't miss... It isn't anything  \nserious, but it didn't miss either. Do you have anything serious?\"  \n  \n\"I don't think so. Thirst. I am nearly pissing myself. Can I do anything to  \nhelp my case here?\"  \n  \n\"Drink her saliva. Piss yourself. Seriously, she wouldn't notice. The pouch is  \nfor keeping prey fresh, it works this way, her fluids would wash things away.  \nDon't stress. But she feels you inside. She knows you are there. Try to  \ncomfort her once she awakens.\"  \n  \n\"Martin... You can't say...\"  \n  \n\"That's what you can do. I was in her for almost two days before she released  \nme, and I wasn't always sure whether she remembered I was filling her. And  \nthen she was hungry. Now she isn't. And I am also here. But she may not  \nrelease you solely for my sake. You have to tell her you are sorry.\"  \n  \n\\* \\* \\*  \n  \nMartin laid on his back watching the canvas above. On his left rested Tayga on  \nher side, her soft and warm underside facing him tempting to cuddle against in  \nthe cold, yet he didn't for her still unstable wound, only pushing his hand  \nunder her dense fur. He hoped Terry could also have some rest.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Warmth. He shivered. He realized part of him very much wanted to switch places  \nwith him. He was utterly scared back then. But for the body it was pleasant.  \nIf Tayga slackened herself, he could so much be there, enjoying that blissful  \nwarmth. Without the constraints of half of his mass in clothes. Without any  \nclothes at all. Just to groom her on the inside, to be with her, to be almost  \npart of her.  \n  \nSleep conquered him floating in these thoughts. He couldn't help it. She was  \nunique. Their relationship was unique. He loved Tayga, not like a human being,  \nbut for what she was.  \n  \n\\* \\* \\*  \n  \nAfter the night at least by the clock, she was still laying there. Martin  \nraised on his elbows realizing the interior of the tent was still rather  \npleasant for her warmth. He checked her jowl, feeling the area of the wound,  \nseeing the blood congealed sufficiently clogging it. She was awake, just  \nresting, appreciating the gentle strokes.  \n  \nShe then pulled herself out for a huge yawning stretch outside, which Martin  \nused to prepare himself for the chill. He had to devise something to get Terry  \nout, then they would continue their march helped with Tayga's new energy. They  \nhad to. Nutritional deprivation was taking its toll on them except for her.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; He started rekindling their fire out of habit, to make some tea which  \nthankfully they still had before realizing he had a blocking problem to solve.  \nEven Tayga herself showed the impression of being in quite a trouble.  \n  \nShe laid upright by the tent, her filled slackened pouch resting between her  \nforelegs, looking at Martin confused. The usual routine wasn't there, there  \nwas nobody packing up equipment preparing her harness. She however also  \nappeared somewhat pleased. Martin then realized mild motions inside her,  \napparently teasing her! Terry was doing his part!  \n  \nThat was his chance. And he got a wicked idea which he believed would do the  \ntrick.  \n  \nHe approached her starting to gently work on her neck which she appreciated.  \nSlowly he progressed upwards to the head, rubbing the back of her skull behind  \nher ears, returning to her jaws. Lost in her sensations, she closed her eyes,  \nsubmitting to the bliss. For minutes he didn't stress anything, just caressing  \nher as usual, allowing her to drift forgetting about reality. Terry gently  \ncontributed from the inside still playing his role without asking. He couldn't  \nknow what he thought, how long he would keep up, so he concentrated on her to  \nsee when he could begin with his idea.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Then he started slowly moving onto the line of her mouth with occasional,  \nseemingly accidental but intentional gentle strokes, teasing. She flicked  \ntongue. He made sure his clothes weren't too tight so she could reach his face  \nand chest. He kept on his work, when she slightly opened, even briefly  \nthrusting his hand in. He directed her snout towards his face to lean against  \nits tip, pushing his fingers in the soft underside as he softly grabbed on her  \nlower jaws.  \n  \nIf he didn't know her, he would have thought it sheer lunacy. Yet he did it.  \nHe tried to coax her into eating him, however it would work out. He slowly  \nslid his face lower on her nose, feeling her tongue touching his chest and  \nchin. Then it happened. The mouth opened to gently lock on his upper torso  \nand a moment later his head was in her throat. He let himself lean against  \nher, his fingers still digging in her furry folds on the underside, still  \nmassaging her. But she stopped.  \n  \nAll of sudden she raised almost leaving Martin tipping over. He could see her  \nutter confusion, occasionally sharing a glance with him, an occasional flick  \nof the tongue, totally clueless. Then, just as sudden, she turned away, stood  \nup and retched.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \\* \\* \\*  \n  \nThey packed up in silence.  \n  \nEven Tayga remained silent accepting strokes but without showing much emotion.  \n  \nTricked? Betrayed? Martin couldn't know, he couldn't decide. For now he could  \nsave them. He resolved to never let Terry go hunting with her no matter how  \nsick he was.  \n  \nThey ambled through the dead forest without a word. The few deciduous trees  \nthey could spot were good signs. They were leaving the worst of the north, but  \nit was winter and they couldn't know how far they would have to go until they  \nreached any inhabited place. They didn't even see footprints of men since many  \nmonths. Despite the screwed up hunt, they still had some meat from an earlier  \none which they decided to ration until Tayga made another hunt necessary.  \n  \nThe routine returned. Late, judged rather by their mental clock than the  \nnonexistent daylight they set up camp, made their roast, conversed a bit  \nmostly avoiding what happened on the hunt, then put themselves aside for the  \nnight. The morning the fire was rekindled for some tea while they packed up,  \nand they were on the go again.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Terry, apart from avoiding Tayga even more than before remained normal, at  \nleast normal for a tired weary traveler of the north. Martin showed faint  \nsymptoms of scurvy, weakness, yet he trudged on. He tried to dismiss the  \nslight changes in Tayga's attitude.  \n  \nOn the surface she didn't appear much different to what they knew before. She  \neven seemed to show more compassion towards Martin than usual but that rather  \nbegan with his worsening weakness. On occasions however she passed a glance,  \nan eerie spark, a slight tongue flick towards him, so subtle he wasn't even  \nsure whether he was only hallucinating them.  \n  \nHe wished to have some time with her alone, just to comfort her, still  \nworrying whether the events upset her in some manner, but he could neither  \njust leave Terry. At least not until the next hunt.  \n  \n\\* \\* \\*  \n  \nHe could barely stand straight after the day's march by then.  \n  \nHunt. He had to go. Terry could spend all the time resting in the tent, and he  \nhad to be on the move so they progressed.  \n  \nTayga was gentle. At least she was gentle and allowed him to lay on her back.  \nHe left it to her just holding onto her fur. She didn't yet make her own kill,  \nbut could certainly find prey fitting her, and the more often, it was her who  \nsignaled the presence of something worthy.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Hours passed with her steadily trotting through the wilderness. They were  \nsnowrunners for a reason. When hunting for large game, they could just keep  \ntheir modest pace, their repeated assaults until their prey collapsed. Before  \nnoon she was clearly on the trail of something and it wasn't long until she  \ncould approach it. A tundra elk, a good fill for her stomach, probably enough  \nso she would share. As soon as she was sufficiently near, Martin halted her,  \narmed his gun and shot.  \n  \nShe knew it well, not even jolting for the thunder despite the accidents with  \nTerry. It was Martin with her and it was just part of their hunt.  \n  \nMartin was cautious to let her approach, staying back as she fed lest he  \nshould remind her anything from before. It was indeed a good fill and he was  \ndelighted to see her leaving a thigh untouched, not even gulping it down into  \nher pouch like she occasionally did with food she shared just like if they  \nwere her cubs.  \n  \nShe rested by the remnants, licking her chops for a while, swallowing, letting  \nher pouch notably slacken and contract a few times. It started to become  \nunusual. Then again that eerie glance. She turned towards Martin.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; He understood.  \n  \nShe remembered and expected him. He could only hope she didn't mean it by its  \nfull weight. But she still was his friend, and he, probably unintentionally,  \nmade a promise to her.  \n  \nHe put down his weapons, then his coat as well. He would bear the cold, it  \nwouldn't be long anyway. He approached and set his palm on her jaw stroking  \nit. She didn't start right away. She rested her muzzle on her shoulder,  \nallowing him to groom her, the soft furry underside of her neck, the thick  \nfolds. He felt her exhales, her pleasant warmth which was about to engulf him.  \n  \nSlowly she pulled back, offering him her jaws, the thick jowls. Martin kept  \nmassaging her, digging his fingers in her features. He knew his part. Little  \nby little he approached the line of her mouth, his caressing returned by  \ngentle flicks of her tongue. He removed his shirts to let her access him, and  \nvery soon she covered his back from the cold by the warm confines of her  \nmouth. He let his trousers drop off, keeping on grooming her dewlap until she  \nstarted her swallows.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; He felt himself rising from the ground, his bare shin and feet still outside,  \nexposed to the bitter cold, but her gently massaging muscles pulled him in  \nsoon, as if even she was aware of his weakness against the chill. It was a  \nbliss when he could finally pull his legs in and she closed her mouth.  \n  \nWarmth. The ripple of her muscles, the gullet. He remembered from before. Now  \nhe wasn't scared. He wasn't sure if she would ever let him out, but trusted  \nher and dismissed those thoughts. He didn't want to think about those.  \n  \nIt was a welcoming surprise as he slid to rest in her pouch. She didn't  \ncontract at all. He could feel himself settling to sit between her forelegs as  \nthe confines gently curled him up, his feet against her clavicles, the knees  \npressing on her neck, and there was an ample pocket of warm air in front of  \nhim. The monotonous thuds of her heart were the only sound he heard. He  \nreached out to rub the walls, to feel her flesh beyond, to continue caressing  \nher from the inside.  \n  \nShe moved to lay on her side, gently rocking Martin. It was a blissful  \nposition. He stretched his limbs, pushing against her features before coming  \nto rest on his side, facing her, small motions, rubbing her with his feet and  \nhands which he believed she enjoyed.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; If he could just stay there! The harsh outside, the chill winter felt so  \ndistant! Soft thuds, warmth, silence, serenity, peace. Her saliva like a sea  \nof origins engulfing him. She was so calm! He knew she fell asleep, her  \nentire being slackened in the soft pillow of snow, he could so envy her to be  \nable to live in this world! But he was part of her. He felt she protected her.  \nHe felt safe.  \n  \nHe drifted away to the land of dreams along with her.  \n  \n\\* \\* \\*  \n  \nSudden crass motions shook him awake. She contracted over him. He scared  \nbefore realizing she stood, retching, pushing him out. But why so soon and so  \nabruptly?!  \n  \nHe plopped off onto the unwelcoming cold snow, all soggy. She immediately  \ncurled around him protectively, pushing him against the loose folds covering  \nher pouch which contained him mere moments before. Having nothing better, he  \nwriggled and rubbed himself against her fur.  \n  \nThen he noticed.  \n  \nAn odd pair of creatures were approaching, a rider and his steed, a slender  \nred furred being on the back of his yellow, black striped companion, both  \nsharing a doglike visage with characteristic large pointed ears. Shiriats,  \nor at least the rider was one of them.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Embarrassment. He tried to fish out his clothes from under the massive bulk of  \nthe snowrunner. To meet the alien race they wanted to flee to in a single  \nsoggy garment, his underpants in the middle of this snow covered wilderness  \nwas something he wouldn't ever expect to happen. The mental image formed in  \nhis head as he stood there, shivering, covering himself with nothing but his  \nvast companion's folds as he tried to explain! Utter ridicule! Yet he was up  \nto his ears in it!  \n  \n\"Er, Hello. E'erything okay?\"  \n  \nThe Shiriat spoke as he descended, an unusual accent, but understandable.  \nMartin was still in shock, unable to answer.  \n  \n\"Sorry, guess ee interrutted you here in sonthing. Ee 'atched and thought  \nyou 'ere in danger.\"  \n  \nMartin was fighting with his clothes and his shivering to be able to come off  \nfrom his companion's cover. He noticed the yellow beast's interest in Tayga,  \nclearly looking and making slight movements towards her until she recoiled. It  \nwas much smaller than her, but unusual and certainly more agile than her in  \nneed.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Eh, no, totally no! We are companions!... We are seeking refuge.\"  \n  \nThe Shiriat studied them intently for a few moments while his steed  \ncontinued its attempts in approaching Tayga. It was merely a few dozen yards  \naway, and she started to show interest on her own as it sat on its haunches,  \nleaving its long tail spreading away towards her, limp except for its tip, a  \nfluffy tuft gently waving back and forth. The Shiriat emitted a seemingly  \nunintelligible chirp which it promptly retorted with a similar sound and a  \nfrown.  \n  \n\"Er, 'orgiee her interest. You're 'elcone is you can earn your stay. She's a  \ngood haul.\"  \n  \nHe clearly referred to the snowrunner who crawled a bit forth towards the  \nyellow beast, just flicking out her tongue towards her teasing tuft. Martin,  \nfinally standing firm, sternly responded.  \n  \n\"No. She is free and she stays so.\"  \n  \n\"Nay, I say it's sor 'oth o' you together is she is 'illing to do. Ee need  \nstrenght at the logging, and she has 'tlenty to earn 'oth o' your 'tlaces.\"  \n  \n\"You mean it's a job offer?\"  \n  \n\"Sort o'. You join a connune led ay shiriat, cyat, hunan, you choose, all  \n'elcone her strength. Er, I 'ay suggest us, hunan sreak out o' this quirk o'  \nyours. Ee knou, it 'tasses at us okay.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Suddenly he emitted that chirp again, just as Tayga and the yellow beast  \nnuzzled over her tuft. She turned briefly aside for a retort, and ceased to  \ncare about him as they continued. Martin stepped by her side to stroke her  \nfor which she broke contact to settle by him, ignoring the playful Shiriat  \nsteed's last tickle with her tail as she stood up to return to her companion,  \ngently nipping on his ear among with a faint chirp.  \n  \n\"Er, guess it already 'tasses all too 'ell at her. She'd enjoy getting to  \nknou her.\"  \n  \nMartin felt confused, the sleep within Tayga still not clearing up entirely  \nfrom his mind, still shocked by the sudden impulse of meeting the Shiriat. He  \nhowever knew he didn't have many options as they fled especially to their  \nland.  \n  \n\"Okay, we will go with you. I have a human friend in our camp whom we must  \npick up. How far we are? We are dieing for some proper food.\"  \n  \nThe Shiriat shortly asked him to stay hopping on his yellow steed, poking a  \nbit around in a bag on her harness for a small box of which he pulled off a  \nlong antenna. He stood on her back, and she slowly started pacing around,  \nsharing chirps until apparently they found sufficient reception on a nearby  \nmound. He chirped into the box, oddly similar to that he used to communicate  \nwith his steed, making Martin wonder whether even she actually spoke some  \nvariant of their apparent language.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"I got it arranged. Ee 'tick your sriend ut today and head south till late.  \nNext noon a train 'ill 'ait us at the end o' our northern logging line.\"  \n  \nSo it was. Seeing the Shiriat on the back of his companion, Tayga naturally  \nfollowed, allowing Martin on herself just like she did earlier that day.  \nThey started a swift but pleasant place following the snowrunner's earlier  \ntrack towards Terry, keeping side by side, the two large girls.  \n  \nThe Shiriat's unusually accented words faded over the snow covered wilderness  \nas they passed away.  \n  \n\"Just thirty niles, good dinner in the e'ening, rest in 'tleasant 'eds... Er,  \nI guess you 'ont need any 'eds...\"  \n  \n\n"}