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I hail from a small village, in a sparsely inhabited region of the world. No king rules us, no armies march to conquer us. We're too few and too remote to be worth any effort. That's not to say we are totally isolated. A number of neighbouring villages exist nearby, similar in size, equally distant from any kingdom of notice. People here trade, visit the other villages, and occasionally do get into fights and squabbles. But without kings and kingdoms, there is little to fight over, no one bothers the others too much. That has allowed the spiritual life to flourish in our region. Our mystics are respected members of our community, providing insight into the world around us, helping people understand signs and omens, what have you. And it just so happens, that my father is our village's mystic. For years, I saw him at work, and learned to understand the spirits and forces that influenced our world.

As time passed, and I grew to become an adult, things didn't change all that much. Father still did his duties, shared the things he learned, and I followed his work with great interest. Thus, it came as no big surprise to me when Father announced to the village that he had selected me as his apprentice. I was taken into training to be the next village mystic. Of course, it was a very convenient decision, seeing that I had seen him work for all my life, but it was not an undeliberated one. He had to consider several things, not only familiarity with the topic, and had other candidates in consideration too. He had consulted spirits and also his fellow villagers to make the right choice. Regardless, it was an immense honour for me, and I was delighted at the prospect of becoming a mystic myself in due time. He had never let me join him in the more complex rituals, such as divination or healing spells. But now, I'd get to take part in everything.

Even with a basic understanding of our world's spirits and forces, it was still a lot of work to get oneself understanding them properly. All from the cycles in the calendar and their significance, to the subtle hints of spirits influencing our surroundings, to the proper ways of doing sacrifices, casting spells, and preparing ritual or medicinal concoctions and potions. But I learned. Slowly, learning from past mistakes, I did eventually learn. Father was always patient with me, even when I was messing things up. He was still in charge of things, a botched sacrifice or incantation on my part wouldn't ruin the whole thing. Besides, he did make mistakes too, much like anybody. "The spirits are forgiving, as long as you respect them, and correct the things that went wrong.", he told me many a time.

A couple years into my training, I was finally able to take part in the more complex rituals. And none did quite captivate me as much as talking to spirits directly. You'd consume a concoction with appropriate ingredients, both to specify the type of spirit you're contacting, and to actually get you into the state of mind where communication was possible. I spoke with ancestors of my village, learning what how they wished to be honoured at their graves. I spoke with birds, to hear news from far away. And I'd speak with the trees and the wind, to know of things present and things to come.

Finally, towards the end of my training, when I knew things sufficiently well, it was time for a voyage. By this time, I was twenty-three, Father double that. A mystic and a mystic-to-be spend a year, wandering far from home, to finish the training, and do so undisturbed by life at home. Father and I planned the voyage long ahead; we'd head east, towards the mountains, then south, to the lakes of the inland. We'd continue along southwest until we saw a lone mountain I'd only heard tales about. After that, we'd head north-west to the coast, and then back north until we finally were home again. We'd set off in spring, the morning after the equinox celebration, and planned to be back for the next spring equinox. In the mean time, we had agreed with a neighbouring village that their new mystic, newly finished from training, would take over day-to-day duties in our village while we were gone. All was in order, and the sun rose higher and higher by the day, as winter turned to spring. Neighbours came by to wish us a good voyage, and two days before equinox celebrations, the new mystic arrived. A wolf, like us, tall and slim, yet looked strong and capable. Her fur was darker than mine, she spoke with a pleasant voice. She greeted us, and we discussed the duties she'd be handling. Standard fare, I saw that she was more than skilled enough for the position. Father and I could leave without a worry, our home village would be in very good hands indeed. We prepared the ceremonies, packed our things, partook in the feast, and offered blessings for life to return, for harvests to be plentiful, for the world to remain calm for everyone, and for our voyage to be safe. After nightfall, we took final goodbyes from the village, and went to sleep; we were heading off at dawn.

And so, we came to be on our way. We'd walk for days at a time, setting up a camp along the way or staying at a village who would accommodate us. Other days we'd stay where we were, doing ritual duties, and gathering supplies to continue. The spring went along slowly, and day by day, the mountain chain in the east, that we were headed for first, became an ever more prominent feature in the landscape. From home we couldn't even see them. It was perhaps a month from midsummer, when we decided to set up a few day's camp at a clearing by a mountain path. We set up our tent, gathered firewood and cast a spell for calm weather. Night fell more slowly these days, with more twilight to see one's surroundings. The weather was pleasantly warm, and after an evening meal, Father went to sleep. I decided to stay up some time longer, to watch the twilight and the few stars visible. I was looking for a sign of good luck or fortune for the later parts of our journey, now that we had been on the road for some time already. The stars yielded nothing however, it was too bright out to see. I relaxed. and closed my eyes. The serene peace of the evening made me very aware of my surroundings. I perked my ears and scanned the area for sounds. Father's breaths sleeping, a lone late bird chirping. Bats whizzing by, and rustling from the nearby woods. But there was something else too. A whisper, perhaps, too faint to make anything out of. I tried to identify where it came from, I walked a little bit around, and it seemed to come from the woods as well. The whisper of spirits. Still too faint to hear, I decided to leave it be until the next day. I didn't want to stay up too long, and I also didn't want to go in the woods in the dark. I headed back to the tent and went to sleep.

I woke up early in the morning to the sound of birds. It was barely sunrise, but the local birds were going at it at full volume. I tried ignoring them, with little success, and after a while, I gave up and got up.

"Good morning, son.", Father said.

"You woke up to the birds too?", I replied.

"Yes, they're really noisy. And the open spot we chose for the camp doesn't exactly dampen sounds."

"Well, we'll sleep better next night then, I hope. I'm at least going to be tired early today."

"Or we sleep badly until we move on."

"Maybe."

I had got dressed during the conversation. Not much you need to wear in warm weather like we had. A simple tunic was enough. Without further ado, I picked up our water bottles, and headed to the edge of the woods. The locals in the previous village told me of a stream there, from where I could collect water. The stream was easy enough to find, and as I filled up the bottles, and had a bit to drink for myself, I heard the whispers again. This time, louder, but still indecipherable. I'd have to sit down to commune with them to know what they wanted. With the water collected, I decided to have a look around in the woods for a moment, just to see if there was anything of note that could cause the prominent spirit presence here. A brief check provided nothing of more interest than a tree with a twist, and an oddly slanted piece of a rocky hillside. I found it strange, because usually spirits would present themselves by something of importance, be it a cemetery, a ritual altar or a cursed spot. Nothing about this place seemed significant, there were no grave markers, and no markings or carvings indicating neither a curse nor anything else. Perhaps Father would know better, I thought. Returning to camp, I asked about it.

"Have you heard spirits around here?"

"I have, faintly.", he answered.

"While I was fetching water, I noticed their sounds come from the woods. They have a strong presence there, but I can't figure out what there is that could be of note. To me it seems there's nothing at all there."

"Curious."

"We could go check if you'd notice something I've missed."

"We probably should. With this amount of presence, it'd be foolish to ignore them."

"Let's have tea and something to eat first."

After a modest meal, I headed to the woods once more, with Father following me. He laid notice on the unusual spirit activity, while closely observing the nearby features for any clues. Finally, we stood near the odd tree and slanting hillside I noticed. It seemed the spirits were at their strongest somewhere here.

"Let's comb this place for anything. Runes, carvings, old sacrifices, anything.", Father told me.

So we did, looked everywhere around for any clue what this place could be. The sun rose higher in the sky, yet our search proved fruitless. I stepped towards the rock, and called for Father to give up.

"You're right, there's absolutely nothing here.", he said, scrathing his head. "Very strange."

"Yeah.", I said, absently. I was looking at Father. Was there something different about him? I shook my head, and looked again. Nothing.

"Is something wrong?", he asked.

"Oh, nothing. I was thinking maybe it'd be best to talk to the spirits themselves to ask what this is?"

"Yes, we ought to do that. They'll know. It doesn't seem like there's a curse here, so it's safe."

"Shall we talk to them now?"

"Why not, while we're here."

I went to get our herb bags from the tent. A few moments later, I was back. Again, I stopped to look at Father. Something was different. I couldn't shake that feeling. Something about his arms, his body, perhaps? Or was his dark hair and beard somehow more prominent? Were the spirits messing with me? I ignored it, and passed over his herb bag. We prepared to talk with the spirits. We sat down, did the relevant rituals to set the scene, and took out a special blend of fungi and herbs. This blend would leave us aware, but open to communication. It also made one's colour vision go a bit funny. Having taken a dose, we chanted and called to the spirits while we waited for the effects to manifest. The whispers started turning clear, bit by bit I started to make out words from them.

"A father and son approach us..."

"When'd we last see people like them..."

"Wonderful..."

Father broke their whispers with a question.

"Who are you? And what is this place? Forgive us, for we couldn't find anything. We travel, we do not know this place."

"Worry not...", a whisper started. "There is an altar here... Left unmarked... We oversee its rituals..."

Father sat in place, looking blankly with his eyes open. He continued.

"Where is the altar? And what ritual do you want done?", Father asked. An unnatural seeming glow seemed to light up inside him.

"The altar... Is on the rock... That you saw earlier...", we heard in reply.

"Why is it not marked?", I asked. I kept looking straight forward. Father sat a few steps ahead, looking back with that glow. I was starting to really feel the herbs' effects now. The colours turned more intense, the green trees became more verdant, the dark, mossy ground got a purplish tinge to it. The sky was an intenser blue. And father's fur became a bluish grey, compared to the ususal grey. The white hairs on his head and face were more distinct now. While I adjusted to the new visual sensations, I listened to the spirits' reply.

"The altar... It is not for ordinary rituals... Only few get to know..." A shiver went through my body. I could see Father felt one too.

"We chose... You..." Another shiver passed through us, stronger this time. I felt a turn in my stomach.

"Look close... What do you see.."

What did I see? I saw a forest, greener than any other I'd seen in my life. I saw a discoloured sky and a tinted ground. I saw Father's shape in front of me. I saw a glow in his eyes -

A puff of smoke startled me. I watched the dazzlingly coloured smoke in front of me, and Father's silhouette through it. The smoke cleared, and the spirits continued.

"And... What do you see now..."

I saw Father. A man. A big, strong man. I saw his strong legs, his muscular arms. I saw his dark hair, and his manly beard. I saw his fangs, and I saw an ever stronger fire in his eyes. I saw my Father...

"When father and son... Visit us... We request of them... A ritual...", the spirits whispered.

"Go... To the altar..."

In a trance, Father and I got up, eyes locked by that strange glow. I wondered what he saw. We walked slowly towards the altar. While doing so, a feeling rushed into me. I started pulling off my tunic, still walking slowly towards the altar. Father was doing the same. I loosened my loincloth, and let it slide off onto the ground. And I saw Father had done that too. We walked the last few steps, until we stood by the slanted altar. Father was a sight to behold. His broad shoulders were magnificent, and his chest was equally impressive. A trail of dark fur ran down from his chest, over his beautiful abdomen, until my eyes came to rest looking at...

"We want... Four... Sacrifices...", the spirits told us. And another puff of smoke surrounded me. This time accompanied by smells. Wonderful smells, the smell of each sacrifice. Each on its own a beauty, together they were even better. The trance was quite intense, but I still knew what was going on. And what was yet to happen... I could have resisted, but I didn't want to. No, I was more than willing to proceed. The smells dissipated, and the smoke cleared. There was something different about Father again. And there was something different about me too, this time I noticed it on myself. I had an erection, and he had too. I saw his manhood, a big dick, noticeably leaking already, and his large, hanging balls, each wonderfully defined, with a strand of dark hair going between them. I knew what I was to do, and he knew too. I leaned onto the slanted altar, and laid my back against it. I lifted my legs, and put my tail aside. Father walked up to me, put his arms on my shoulders, and leaned against me. I could feel his dick slide against mine, making me whimper. I wrapped my legs around him, waiting for him to begin. The glow in his eyes was strong, his breaths were warm. His fangs gleamed like they were pearls. After what felt like an eternity in heaven just admiring his face, I felt his slippery dick slide back. Its tip passed over my balls, and down towards my hole. Just before entering, he broke our silence, with and eager, breathy voice:

"Want to begin... The ritual?"

I took a grip of the rock altar below me best I could, took a deep breath, and responded in an equally breathy, eager voice:

"Begin, Father..."

I felt a pressure at my hole. A pressure that grew, gradually. He was entering slowly, letting me get familiar to the feeling. I felt every moment of him going deeper into me, until finally, I felt his hip touch me. He had gone all the way now, and I lifted myself a little to feel his dick going up and down inside me. He took notice of his, and repositioned himself, taking a stronger grip of me. And then he began sliding his dick out. It left an empty feeling in me, until he was almost out. He started pounding me, cautiously at first. Each push into me felt better than the previous, filling me with warmth. I felt our bodies hit when he got all the way in, and I heard the smacking sound of it. And the smacking sound got stronger, gradually, as Father pounded me harder.

I felt hot, I felt like in heat, sweat building up on my back. All the world, all the things I saw in my surroundings, all that was gone from my vision. I saw only him, his eyes, and a blue tint to his being thanks to the herbs. I worked my part too, I pushed back on him when he went in, and moaned for him to hear my enjoyment. His breathing grew heavy, with grunts sprinkled in too. He had now his head up in pleasure, as overwhelmed by the sensations as I was. I wasn't satisfied at that, however, and carefully lifted one arm. After confirming I wouldn't slide off the altar with this action, I grabbed Father's beard. He kept a patch growing under his chin, long enough for him to tie a band to it. And it was good to get a grip on, and pull his head down to face me again. His warm breaths in my face weren't enough now, however, and I pulled him yet closer, till our lips met. We grunted and moaned as we kissed, deeply, our tongues twisting around one another, spit spilling as we broke the kiss, only to sink into another, all the while his pounds were getting more and more intense.

I could feel his knot starting to swell as he fucked me, and I could feel myself nearing the edge too. His final pounds were heavy, and he rested his big, sweaty body against me, keeping me down on the altar, as he made the final push. His knot barely fit in, but I felt a give, knowing it went inside. That sensation alone was enough to send me into orgasm, and I coated our bodies, resting together, with my seed, while Father's seed filled my insides. We were still in a kiss when we shot, and moaned intensely into each others' maws. I couldn't but open my eyes to look at him. His eyes were closed, with his forehead and brows wrinkled in pleasure, his ears folded back. He had enjoyed it as much as I had. I wrapped my arms around him, caressing his back, while still kissing deeply.

Some time later, his knot loosened, and the glow in his eyes had faded a bit. He lifted his torso to see that my seed had splattered all over our chests and stomachs. He tugged at my hole to get his knot out, and I pulled back to help him. Slowly, he slid it out, and his warm seed flowed out of me. He stood over me, still panting a bit, until he spoke:

"Son... You're mine now. You belong to me."

"Yes, Father. I belong to you.", I whimpered. "Do to me... What you wish."

"What's mine is mine... And others need to know that.", he told me. "And I need to mark you as mine."

"Please, mark me yours, Father...", I begged him. "Coat me in your scent..."

Father grabbed his dick, and leaned back over me. "One more time...", he teased me.

"Please... Make me yours, and yours only.", I begged, louder.

Having said that, I felt Father's warm urine on me. He pissed on my chest, my stomach. He marked my manhood and my hole as his, and he pushed a stream to cover my face in his scent. I licked my lips, tasting it eagerly, the smell already having entered my nose, making his scent the only thing I could smell, the only thing that mattered to me. As he finished, his stream passed over my stomach and manhood one more time before it ended. I was his now, owned and marked. I was overwhelmed by feelings, making me whimper again, until I managed to say "Father... I love you."

"I love you too.", he replied calmly, leaning over to kiss me once more. As our lips parted, the whispers were back. Father's eyes had returned to normal, but the world was still verdant and intense. The herbs hadn't worn off quite yet.

"Four... Sacrifices...", the spirits whispered, before going into a chant:

"First one... Sweat upon the altar... From the warmth... Between father and son..."

"Second one... Spit upon the altar... From the love... Between father and son..."

"Third one... Seed upon the altar... From the lust... Between father and son..."

"Fourth one... Scent upon the altar... From the bond... Between father and son..."

"Your sacrifices are welcome."

"May that what you seek on your journey... Be found in each other..."

"Fathers and sons... Have come to our altar... Across hundreds of years..."

"You are lucky to be among them..."

The herbs' effect faded almost immediately after. Yet Father and I lingered in our positions, him over me, me smelling of him.

"I've waited for something like this to happen to us.", I confessed, to break the silence.

Father stood silent for a moment. "Me too...", he then replied.

"Seems we pleased the spirits."

"And each other too."

I looked around the spot we were at, and noticed that the sun had passed its peak.

"This took half the day, I see.", I noted.

"Really?", Father said in surprise, before looking for himself.

"I guess we should go back to camp to... deal with what we left undone from the morning.", I said, as I stood up and picked up my clothing. Walking felt a bit strange, though for good reason.

We made our way back, and set about with the day's tasks. The sun sank lower in the sky, until at last, we were ready with our duties a little before sundown. The day had gone by fast enough even after our... ritual. We gave each other eager glances all the while, but restrained ourselves till we were done. After dinner, our conversation finally returned to the day's main event.

"Did... Did the spirits set this in motion? I noticed... Something about you even before the herbs.", I wondered.

"They can't begin something that doesn't exist. You've thought of something like this before, they noticed that and reminded you."

"So... You've also..?"

"Yes."

"What did you see after I brought you to the woods?", I asked.

"I think I saw quite the same as you. Something about you first seemed off. Then there came the strange haze or smoke. And then it became clearer that I saw... Your beatiful body, in a strange new light. And a shine to your eyes."

"Yes. Exactly the same. And it got really intense after the herbs."

"That might be because one of the ingredients we use, one to help us get into trance, also works as an aphrodisiac. I didn't pay it much mind because there's not much of it but...", Father informed.

"The spirits helped us with that."

"Probably."

"I'm grateful they did."

"....me too."

After a moment of silence, I decided to get up.

"So... Busy day, we barely had time for a break with all the things left to be done. So only now do I have time to go wash myself.", I explained.

"My scent's not coming off too easily, son.", Father snickered at me.

"I still want to clean myself off a bit, before going to sleep.", I continued. "You want to help me out?"

"Gladly."

Needless to say, we... adapted the ritual for our purposes, and performed it often. And we still had almost all of the journey ahead of us, just by ourselves...