FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

---

In ancient times, the Peninsula of Thetika was divided into city-states which fought for territory and influence. Among them, Aolia, the great city watched by the Goddess, was the most prosperous.

Aolia had not always been the leader it came to be known. Once, it had been the smallest of the more influential polis. It was after a conflict with one of its more troublesome neighbors that they gained dominion.

Lacking a proper army, the enemy overpowered them in weeks. When the situation turned most dire, the leader of their haphazard forces prayed to their guardian deity for salvation.

"Like a soldier wields a shield in one hand and a spear in another, wield experience of age and courage of youth," She replied.

And so they did it. Put together men of disparate ages, the older took the shields and swords while the younger bore a spear and a bow. That combination led to victory for Aolia; toppling the brute city meant they also gained newfound power.

To celebrate the glory, the older fighters gifted their younger companions bracelets made of shining stones found on the shores of that battlefield. The pebbles, molded into spheres by hand, the Goddess blessed in a new ritual. That troop became the first and most important branch of the Aolian army: The Band of the Sacred Beads.

For as long as Aolia stood triumphant, many young men tried to be selected by the seniors and join the prestigious division. The older members, Wards, could pick any youth they deemed worthy to be their counterpart, Lancers.

They made an annual event to celebrate the formation of the army: the Championship of the Beads. A grandiose competition to put a spotlight on the young men who wished to be selected.

A hundred years after that triumph, a jackal by the name of Alexios competed in the tournament. His efforts earned him only fifth place. His reason for participating was not the accolades the victory offered, nor a position in the Standing Army. For the first time, a new member would join the Band without inheriting a set of beads. A nobleman, trainer of fresh fighters, a wolf named Pyrrhos.

That man had been in Alexis' mind since he saw him in an exhibition match years prior. It was not his warrior prowess or his unusual red fur that had claimed most of the jackal's attention. The older wolf's charisma and fortitude, little things like his smile or the way he twitched his ears, his body, all of it allured the youth.

Those feelings were not forbidden, but for nobles like him, being unable to produce an heir was undesirable. He tried to curb those emotions, but Pyrrhos refused to leave his mind; the memory of his muscular body leading to many active nights for the jackal.

When they called the wolf to join the Band, it was the perfect opportunity to attempt a connection with him. Alas, neither Alexis' strapping physique nor the way he excelled at planning gave him the fame to be in his eyes. Pyrrhos had not picked his companion, but it was probably going to be one of the tournament's victors.

That did not make him any less of a fan of the wolf. He had gone to the arena to see his idol in a fight; he was yet to know, but that day would change his life forever.

---

Gennadius, son of the General questioned the admittance of a "bastard" into the Band, and so arranged the match. Pyrrhos was no newcomer to such accusations. Usually, he would just shrug it off, but rejecting a challenge by someone with such ties to that troop and to the Council that ran Aolia, could have its repercussions.

Despite its high stakes, barely anyone attended the fight; likely because they knew the outcome. To become a teacher like Pyrrhos was, one had to gain victories in wars and competitions; they valued his skill enough to be the first in a hundred years to join the elite ranking of soldiers. Gennadius' combat capabilities superseded many experienced warriors, but his pride and stubbornness weighed down his potential.

Alexis had learned all that. The fascination for observing the world around him, he knew not where the feeling came from, but accepted it as his greatest asset.

The jackal had barely made it in time to see the brawl. As soon as he sat down, the fighters entered the sand-covered ring. First, the wolf, the fighting oil that coated his red fur glistening in the mild sunlight of noon; like many times before, it took Alexis moments to divert his attention from Pyrrhos' perizoma and exposed body. From the opposite side came the black furred bear, his massive torso casting a deep shadow beneath him.

After the referee signaled the start of the match, they circled each other. Their eyes moved up and down the other's body as their legs performed a continuous dance. Alexis kept most of his attention on Gennadius as he knew Pyrrhos' techniques really well; getting to the point the jackal's breathing matched the fighters' steps.

Another three steps and the tension got thicker. Before Gennadius would complete his fourth, he returned his foot in a flash and lunged at the wolf. A brutal charge, anyone caught in that attack would suffer lasting damage. As powerful as the move was, it was predictable, Pyrrhos dodged with ease and the bear ran until he hit the wall of the arena.

Gennadius was quick to shrug the impact off, snapping his head to the canine who had since taken a defensive stance. The bear took no time to do another tackle, more restrained; also predictable. The red wolf did not need to avoid it. He held ground and clutched him with his arms. The struggle did not last; he threw the bear off balance and to the floor. The judge declared one point for Pyrrhos.

The meager audience cheered at the score unanimously. After he rose, Gennadius made his growl of disapproval known, snuffing any sound from the attendees. Through all that, silent Alexis' eyes locked on Pyrrhos, who repositioned himself for the next round.

The second round started. In a defensive stance, the combatants stood on opposite edges of the ring. Their serious faces studied the others' slightest movements. The wolf was the one to charge then; the jackal could imagine the smallest calculations that went through the wolf's head, the bear could not. He mimicked his opponent by trying to dodge the advance, something Pyrrhos already expected. At the last second, after passing by the bear, he used one of his legs to force his body in the contrary direction. He slammed against Gennadius. No struggle. His massive body fell to the sands, pinned from behind by the wolf.

Another point for Pyrrhos. After the announcement from the referee, the canine stood up. The black bear growls turned to wrathful scream, even if there was no fanfare for him to silence.

Pyrrhos was on the way to positioning himself at the time the bear was standing up. Gennadius' legs went from raising his body off the ground, to propelling it towards the wolf.

He pinned the red canine, the fat yet muscular body of the bear straddling him down. Though the arbiter called them to break away, the raging bear only raised a fist while looking at his opponent with fury and disgust. It surprised even Alexis, running through the bleachers to get a better view.

"Disgusting bastard!"

The bear's punch flew towards Pyrrhos' face. Fortunately, he was quick enough to block it with his forearms. Many other punches followed. They were slow, but the impacts created a sound that echoed through the arena.

Once Alexis got to a good viewpoint, guards entered the sands and attempted to still the bear. His massive strength shrugged them off easily, their presence distracted him enough that the canine could fight back.

Barely hoisting his upper body, Pyrrhos performed a headbutt to Gennadius' stomach. A screech of pain and the bear was dazed. Then, one soldier could strike his muzzle; that knocked out the bear for good. The referee declared Gennadius had forfeited.

It took three muscular guards to carry the unconscious bear out of the ring, another to help the wolf up. The relieved young jackal sighed, seeing his idol moving unrestricted. Pyrrhos quit the arena without so much as a sign of victory; there was no pride in such a win.

The attendees left in a sea of murmurs except Alexis, who sat pondering for longer. The fight had not been interesting per se, but that final struggle, how easily the bear turned to breaking the rules, and the risk of actual injury to the older canine, all clouded his capacity to think clearly. When he came to, he was alone on the benches.

He made through the labyrinthine halls of the arena towards the exit. Perhaps the jackal's biggest shame as a fledgeling warrior was his poor sense of direction. Any logical attempt to follow the sound or the air current from outside, suppressed by the vertigo induced by repetitive walls.

He got to a larger room, a half wall obscuring much of it. Since that clearly was not the way out, Alexis sought to return to the halls. The call of a virile voice stopped his movement.

"Who goes there?"

The jackal quivered in silence. The idea of being reprimanded caused swirls in his mind. A glance at the endless corridors and he rationalized it was best to get help over remaining lost.

"A lost fool, sir," said Alexis finally.

"Lost? Come hither."

The statement sounded sympathetic enough to Alexis' pitiful plight, even though it carried a bit of judgement. The jackal obeyed the order, moving further into the room.

Passing the short barriers, the jackal finally got a good look at the chamber. At once he saw two long benches to his left and right side, both close to the walls. At the very back, wooden shelves, some completely vacant and others bursting with sacks and textiles. What lastly caught his eye, was the owner of the voice.

He sat hunch in the middle of the bench, illuminated by the sun coming through the top wall windows. A small piece of cloth hung around the neck of a muscular yet chubby body. The rays of light reflected the red-colored fur of the canine. The one who called him was none other than Pyrrhos.

Another daze hit Alexis. Abstracting the handsome body of his idol from the distant benches was one thing, but the wolf was so close to the youth his mind failed him. His figure, still slightly oily, filled the jackal's gaze entirely. Up-close, his muscles were divine. Every exposed piece of the wolf gained extra details Alexis would never dream of seeing. Pyrrhos' perizoma also particularly drew his attention; the jackal's imagination had created an image of what could lie underneath those undergarments, the close range seemed to prove some of his theories.

Unbeknownst to him, the jackal was also subject to some form of scrutiny.

"That belt," said the wolf. "Are you a member of the Youth Army?"

The wolf had noticed the Goblet of Youth, symbol of Alexis' place in the army. His deep and welcoming voice barely broke Alexis' trance.

"Yes, sir. Final year, sir."

"I see."

The older canine removed the cloth from his neck, the sound of him popping it caused the jackal to cringe. After muttering some minor obscenity, he again addressed the youth.

"Will you fetch me that bucket?"

He pointed to the half wall where a series of buckets lied. After a vocal confirmation, he obeyed. Alexis returned to the fighter who had adopted a more relaxed position, his head tilted back. The jackal checked the puffed muscles on the wolf's chest as he placed the bucket on the bench.

"Thank you." The wolf tossed the cloth in the water. "Alas, I have another request. You have seen the fight, correct? My arms took quite the beating."

"You handled it very well, sir!" Words the jackal just blurted out; the chance to personally compliment Pyrrhos, he would not let slip.

"Right. As you can see, I'm still covered in grease. I would like to avoid further pain. So..." The wolf's pause was brief, but noticeable. "Could you help me clean up?"

Alexis' bewilderment rose to his face, burning. Surely, that was a dream. The young jackal refused to recognize the reality in front of him. And yet, if he would look at the windows, the light would burn his eyes; if he curled up his toes, he would feel the leather of the sandals he wore; were he to inhale, he would pick up the nauseating but alluring odor of the wolf's musky sweat. That was reality, even if he doubted it.

"Sir?" That was all the youth uttered, the daze tempering with his ability to react.

"At ease, soldier. It is no order, but a request. Do not feel obligated to-"

"It would be my pleasure, sir."

His mind had forsaken him. No longer was he only unable to control his words, but his rule over actions was gone too.

"Very well then," a fault in the wolf's voice. "You may start with my back."

Alexis did as told, moving to behind the bench, getting access to Pyrrhos' dorsal. He used the cloth from the pail for his work.

The youth had a good deal of experience analyzing the fighter's frame, but never with such intimacy. As the rag swabbed that body, new details came to light. The young jackal's eyes did not follow the cotton, the bulging back muscles hypnotized him plenty. It caused such a distraction, his movements became repetitive and unnecessary; the wolf was quick to reprimand him.

"Wring out the cloth now and then. Otherwise you will clean nothing."

"Ah! Forgive me, sir."

"At ease."

Alexis took his time drenching the textile and twisting it out. He returned to ridding his back of oil and sand with concentration. Paying attention meant doing a better job, but also taking in the features of the body. He never faltered in the cycle of rinsing and dousing the cloth, but his hands grew trembling and his breathing heavy as a realization hit him.

Though the wet rag separated them, he was narrowly touching and fondling the man that pervaded his more lustful thoughts. That noxious thought controlled his movements more than any other.

Regardless, he performed diligently. Reaching the end of the spine, another "problem" arose; he worked awfully close to the wolf's backside. The perizoma covered it, but the clear shape was there, a palm away from Alexis' snout. Eventually the youth just stopped moving the rag and stared there, taking in as much detail in a trance.

"Oh? Are you done back there? Good job."

The booming voice again broke the youth's hypnosis. He did not hide the haste with which he rose.

"Yes, sir!"

"You should work on my arms now. Beware, they are still quite tender."

By the way the wolf lifted his arm, it was clear how painful he felt. The fighter had put on an act. Just before he would start rinsing the limb, Alexis noticed how it trembled. Even if keeping it aloft was a struggle, the older canine displayed no other sign of pain.

Alexis automatically moved his hand to the man's wrist to support it.

"Be careful!"

His exclamation made the wolf's head face him.

"I can hold your arm steady, no need to lift it."

Shocked, only after a pause did Pyrrhos answer.

"Right. Thank you."

The young jackal had trouble holding the weight of the muscular limb after the wolf let go. Only when he started cleaning his arm did he register the situation that had passed.

His natural affinity for details made him a skilled tactician, in compensation, dealing with spur-of-the-moment settings often led to poor decisions. What had happened surprised even himself. In his exasperation to "protect" the man, he spoke without honorifics; the utmost disrespect according to the army. For whatever reason, Pyrrhos chose not to berate him, even thanked him instead.

Something else caught the youth's perception as the cloth traveled the red fur, scars hidden by his pelt. He seemed so fragile when hoisting his arm, but the wolf knew much more of pain than the lad could even imagine. He finished with one and continued to the other, finding it in a similar state.

His mind went from admiring the wolf's form, to reflection on his own actions. Joining the army was a perilous job. Even not being of the highest nobility, surely he could get a position that did not involve risking his life. Was it all to be like his idol? Was it even a sound choice? Thoughts of such caliber permeated his brain until he finished with the limbs.

"Shall I advance to your legs now, sir?"

Alexis' actions had become mechanical, his mind between pleasure and doubt.

"Indeed. You ought to fetch another bucket and rag, I fear."

For a third time did his voice stop the jackal from dazing. He noticed the cloth, the water in the pail, and even his hands had grown oily.

"You are correct, sir." The youth grabbed the pail with the fabric. "Allow me to retrieve it."

"Take your time. You can find larger ones at the end of the room."

He did as told and soon was kneeling in front of Pyrrhos. With the larger fabric, he swabbed much more of his body at once. He started at the feet; those were not as oily as they were full of sand.

The nails caught his attention. It was uncommon, even among nobles, to trim nails often. It is unlikely he snipped it himself, their shape was artistic; someone put care into making them look good.

The details, the little things that Alexis adored, he learned more about his idol with every move. Gradually, the real, soft man above him replaced the illusion of the stoic statue he had grown to admire.

Foolishly, he was back to admiring the canine body. The looks were not wholly lustful, he knew another chance like that would not come about and so focused on learning as much as he could. Desire still gripped the lad's mind; such is the curse and blessing of youth.

He worked on the calves next. Even with a larger cloth, he was still able to feel the body beneath. Though muscular, the wolf carried a good amount of fat which rarely manifested in his body, save for his protruding gut. There was a hardness to those leg muscles, such solidity was paired with a cushiness that made touching it very pleasurable.

He was finally at his thighs. He had performed with some restraint up to that point, but again being so close to those undergarments made his mind spin. Careful was he to douse those legs, even more careful to conceal his heavy breathing.

The towering wolf broke the jackal's struggle when he opened his legs. His intention was to make it easier for Alexis to clean, but another reaction occurred. He was hypnotized, his hands were working but the eyes stared only at the perizoma. There was no attempt to hide it either, if Pyrrhos looked down, he would find an aroused jackal gawking at his crotch. Even the masculine smell felt stronger where he was. A feast to all senses.

Alexis was able to break the trance on his own and announced he had finished; his hope was that the wolf would close his legs so he could focus again.

"Very good. Only one place left," said the wolf.

The youth was still kneeling when, following the call, Pyrrhos' brawny hand caressed his gut. The image drove the jackal to the brink of insanity. He could not tell if he was being teased, not that it mattered, the result would be the same if he was not.

He rose, enthralled by the belly in front of him. Fat was mostly unwanted, as it would slow most warriors down. Pyrrhos always made sure to never let indulgences get in the way of his combat performance. Only the wolf knew his methods, but the most avid admirers were quite keen on trying to understand it.

He extended the fabric all over the red wolf's bulging stomach. Alexis had learned that softness existed in the fighter's body, but he had never felt it like he did there. It would make sense that the gut would be the most jiggly body part, but even the fur there had its own special softness.

No effort could hide the jackal's feelings now. His mouth was agape, and though he was mostly silent, the red wolf felt his breath beyond the cloth. His moves wavered from professional to loving and did so for the rest of his job on the wolf's body.

Finally, his pectorals. Definitely the canine's most toned part. There was much the youth could admire, alas, he covered the pecs with the fabric and got to work. His eyes had no access to the musculature, but his hands very well supplemented any need. The fur, a mixture of the soft, like the stomach, and tough, like most of his body. There was of course the nipples too; if the caressing the jackal performed was not obvious by then, it became so.

Just above him, he heard the voice again. He partially expected punishment, but words never came. Only the same two syllables came out; akin to gasping or moaning.

The youth raised his head, only to find their snouts inches away from each other. Shock would have consumed Alexis, if the scene did not enthrall him. Pyrrhos huffed like he did, and his eyes looked solely at the jackal's. A detail that the young man seldom thought about sprung at him.

Green. It was impossible, from the distances the jackal had seen the wolf, to learn his eye color. Those eyes shone green; not a feature that enhanced the admiration for the fighter, but special all the same. Few knew the closeness required to tell such information, and Alexis just became one of them.

The jackal gulped as his face heated in embarrassment. He wanted to break the situation up, but also did not.

"I..." Said Pyrrhos, paralyzed, like the boy.

Another pause. Their faces did not stay motionless. It was as if an invisible force dragged their muzzles together.

"I..." He finally closed his eyes and grunted. "I think you did a great job."

He pulled his head away with a heavy sigh. Alexis rose to his feet and sighed and spoke in a faulty voice.

"Thank you, sir."

"So... You said you were lost?"

The wolf stood from the bench and in a quick conversation he clarified the way out to the youth. They both spoke matter-of-factly, as if nothing had happened. Alexis thanked his superior and left for the door. A muscular hand grasped his wrist. A deep voice called him to wait. The jackal turned to face Pyrrhos again.

"Your name?"

Many thoughts popped in and out of the youth's mind. So many, he took seconds to answer the eager wolf.

"Alexis."

"Alexis..." The wolf's tone differed from many other times he spoke, almost whimsical. After a decent pause, he spoke again, releasing the lad. "I will see that you are rewarded properly."

"Thank you, sir."

The youth was quickly out of the room and, thanks to the instructions, out of the arena. Though the event weighed on his mind, especially the short aftermath, he finally had what he wanted: a connection.

Alexis could not have guessed where or when they would reunite following that day.

---

Soldiers of Aolia were called to combat; a smaller conflict to put out an insurgence on a village allied to the polis. Alexis had not seen a true fight, as only the members of the final year of the conscripted company assisted in war. For three years, no battle required the dispatch of the Youth Army; but those lads were not so lucky.

High-ranking captains of the Standing Army led each troop of youngsters. The jackal was at least happy enough to find his band led by the red wolf. The memory of the encounter was still fresh when he saw Pyrrhos in the distance as they instructed the young men before leaving Aolia.

Fitted with the inherited armor and blade of his family, Alexis marched west to Argyros, the city occupied by rebels. The youth, keenly aware of his shortcomings, spent most of the half-day planning. With the wolf a glance away from him, it was impossible that his mind could focus on strategies alone.

The men saw war before they made it to the rendezvous location on the outskirts of town. A singular arrow landed in the middle of the marching soldiers, injuring a young weasel. The lad fell to the ground as enemies rose in the surrounding hills. An ambush.

The captains were quick to rouse the warriors in defense formation, shields up to protect from further projectiles. With every scream, Alexis fought the reflex to turn to fallen allies. Few objects hit the youth's shield, and each time, he would cringe and flinch; but not waver.

After the deadly rain stopped, foes rose to circle the Aolian warriors. The captains shouted the only order they needed: the holy decree of the Goddess.

"Guard the man beside you, and you will be guarded!"

To forsake self preservation and blindly trust your fellow countrymen; a tough command to follow. To the Aolians, it was such a philosophy that had brought them victory so many other times.

Though his shield stopped several blows, his sword never met an enemy. For once in a long time, his thoughts belonged not to himself nor to the red wolf. "Protect this fox beside me," was his only task.

The Aolians emerged victorious. Rebels responsible for the ambush captive, fugitive or dead. Outside the early volley, they took no other Aolian life.

The first taste of actual war embittered the young canine's mouth, tasked with retrieving a corpse, only worsened the situation. The body was yet to turn frigid.

He watched the funeral pyre beneath the standard of Aolia absorbed by the flames. He did not know, but behind him, the hesitating hand of a wolf failed to meet his shoulder to console him.

They got to the camp just outside Argyros. Even from their position, the massive valley of quarries drew attention. The late afternoon sky shone blue on the large pool in the middle, as mountains turned white from the intense mining. Its value only matched by the surreal beauty.

While the Captains and other members of the standing army assembled and planned, the youths took turns resting and helping around camp. Alexis rerely socialized, not for a lack of drive but for a lack of skill. That night, he remained entirely silent.

Soldiers were taught to sleep early, night had barely come when the lads laid in their makeshift barracks; Alexis alone didn't sleep. The only thought that eased the effect of what he had seen and done that day was the wolf. On many bad days, his imagination, and then memory, would by itself stray into Pyrrhos. Though he could not act on those feelings that night, their warmth would have to suffice.

Dawn and morning flashed before the young jackal's eyes. He was soon in the middle of the phalanx, being led by his captain among the other troops. There was no brilliant planning beyond a simple clash between the two factions. With the help of the Youth Army, victory was assured.

Soon, both parties met on the hill-laden road leading into the mining city. Intel had shown their numbers dimmed by the impromptu embargo that had been placed once the rebels got hold of the town. From his position, the jackal could not see it, but the Aolians dominated the insurgents' numbers.

They exchanged none of the usual pleasantries of organized war. With a piercing cry, the rebels charged, the captains slurred the holy decree and moved in as well. Those armies on the move, two large waves clashing.

After the crash, they turned into a stormy sea of dust. The once organized monster that was the phalanx was broken into a scramble. Metal clashed and ricocheted as men brawled for survival and victory.

Chaos reigned in the battlefield and in Alexis' mind. The spear they lent him, long lost; the shield and blade he bore trembling. He raised his guard valiantly enough that no weapon ever met his armor; but could do little else. All those strategies and plans served nothing to the untrained fighter.

Hiding behind a shield proved a good survival strategy, but war was about offense and defense.

Behind his shield, a force crushed the jackal to the floor. The enemy had him on the ground, one move of his sword, and the jackal's life would be over. He could try to move his shield, but knew he had no time. That was it. He closed his eyes.

A loud, metallic thud. The weight that fixed him to the damp ground was gone. A gust blew over the jackal. Eyes opened, another presence towered over him.

"Alexis!"

Once his eyes opened he saw him, the red wolf. His massive shield would cover them both as an arm extended to the immobilized youth.

"Get up!" Said Pyrrhos. "It is not your time yet, soldier!"

If anyone else called him that day, he would have remained dazed on the ground. But Pyrrhos' voice had become comfort, strength. He extended his hand to the wolf and grasped that brawny arm.

"Yes, Captain!"

He rushed behind his idol. The fear of war remained, but he relinquished such feelings as the wolf led him.

Cold water hit the canine's face. He shook his head as his senses returned. Boorish chanting and cheering of young men, foreign arms pulled him into a celebratory commotion. Slowly, he recalled the preceding events.

The Aolians crushed the rebel forces, as expected. Many wounded Aolians, that was inevitable, but no dead. They enslaved most rebels, gave the few dead proper burials; seldom did polis bother with such pleasantry with their enemies.

The time spent healing the wounded and assisting the people of Argyros was brief, and so before sundown the soldiers were left to celebrate before they would return home the following day.

Soldiers were officially disallowed from consuming alcohol; without the presence of the Council, the Standing Army, who knew the toughness of war, rarely took upon itself to enforce the rule. Alexis first tasted liquor that night.

Once he finally got himself away from the rowdy youths, he could think and understand the day that had passed. The young jackal went from trained fighter to warrior, life-taker. He indeed fought for his people, but a man's life forcefully ended. He shivered at the image, the power. He had not taken time to think about it, but that was war.

While daydreaming, the jackal felt a gentle weight on his shoulder. The hand that once had failed to reach him now beckoned the youth.

"Captain Pyrrhos," said Alexis.

In his surprise, he didn't address the wolf with proper etiquette and salute. He haphazardly corrected himself.

"At ease. You did well today, soldier."

"Forgive me, sir, for I cannot agree. I botched my performance in combat. Were it not for your help, sir, I would have perished."

His face and ears drooped as that phrase echoed endlessly in the halls of his mind. Yes, without his hero, he would have been the only casualty from that combat, he thought. If they remembered him, it would have been the only lost life in an easy conflict.

Like before, the older canine forced him back to reality. Manly hands on each of his shoulders.

"Well," said the wolf, "you are here now, Al- soldier. That is what matters."

Alexis raised his head and met again those green marbles. A warm smile beamed at him, at such a short distance too. The lives he had taken, the weight of war, all vanished with that red grin. Without noticing, he was smiling back.

The older canine had to break away before someone caught them. He cleared his throat and unhanded the jackal.

"At any rate," he said in a faulty voice, "great job, Ale- soldier."

"Thank you, sir."

"Have a good night."

"You too, sir."

The young jackal could only watch as his idol made it to the segregated area where the captains had their individual tents. Alexis turned back to the confusion created by his fellow youths before he went to the makeshift barracks. He was not looking forward to sharing a sleeping space with the drunks.

---

It was the middle of the night when the young men finally calmed down. It was then the jackal woke up. Nature called him.

For the people of Argyros, who treated the youngsters so well, Alexis found it impolite to follow the protocol of "do it in the first private enough spot you find," so he walked to a farther location. On his way, many fighters had passed out among the streets they saved, the jackal knew they would pay dearly the following morning. The stench was more than booze. It seemed few of his fellow soldiers bothered to adopt the simple formalities.

He was finally far enough. A small forest bounded the Valley of Argyros. The green was once the lifeline of that village; but that night it would be where Alexis would find privacy.

Mostly sleepy, the youth squatted and did his business empty-headed. The continuous stream below him only contributed to his drowsiness. As he stood, picked up another sound.

The noise filled his mind until he was wide awake. The jackal's long, furred ears took all his concentration. In time the whisper became clear. Among the leaves rustling in the meek wind, a man's voice, tired, almost exasperated. Confirmed the direction, the youth followed it.

He approached the source with stealth, dodging trees and breaking through bushes slowly. Once he was close enough, he could faintly hear:

"Alexis, Alexis..."

His name? Only someone from the army knew such information. A surprise attack? He picked up the pace. The voice grew distinct; deep and manly; filled with loud huffs.

He broke through one final shrub, and saw the beckoner. The pale light of the moon lit the red fur on the back of the canine. No doubt it was Pyrrhos. The wolf hunched, exhaling, stood supporting himself with an arm against a tree.

"He is hurt! And calling my name." The instant thought by the jackal made him jump out of the bushes. It was his turn to help.

"Captain Pyrrhos, are you hurt!"

The wolf, astonished, turned to him in a flash. Barely illuminated, he could only distinguish the youth by his voice.

"Alexis!" His voice charged with sighs and hesitation. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard you call my name, sir." The worried young man approached his superior. "Are you hurt? Do you need help?"

Alexis' eyes scrutinized the man for injuries; he was finally close enough to see it. Not a source of pain, but one of pleasure. Between his legs, it lifted the captain's chiton tunic, his shame. Darkness concealed most of its details. The way it glistened in the moonlight showed some wetness.

The wolf was quick to hide it. Shame flowed to his face; so did the jackal's gaze. Pyrrhos' thoughts turned chaotic, his mouth wordless; so was Alexis' snout, but his mind was busy. Understanding the situation took no effort; dealing with it would prove an endeavor.

Surprise, curiosity, lust, the jackal could not tell why, but limped towards the wolf. Their mouths quivered, but the wolf's "spoke" first.

"I... I..."

The reaction that day in the arena, the one earlier that night. The force acted again and soon the red wolf did nothing to hide anymore, welcoming the approaching man's reaction.

Inches away again, both canines knew the position well. The older's green met the youth's vivid brown. Nothing to stop them, only themselves. In fear, eyes closed on both sides.

The snouts made contact, the warmth of the other one's body was the only thing in their minds. The jackal's hands collided on those pectorals as the wolf hugged him. Soon the touch flourished into a kiss. Within and between those snouts, tongues danced. Like a trainer raising a young fighter, the wolf's tongue led the assault with strictness but not force. The younger let his idol lead him into pleasure.

The sweet embrace of their mouths had to end. Feelings became pyre inside the canines, their smoke coming out as sighs and slurred syllables. Still in his arms, the youth spoke first.

"Captain Pyrrhos..."

"I have thought about you since that day, Alexis."

Each of those words heated on the lad's snout. Searing punishment and comforting hearth. The youth had no comments to answer; for once, his actions would talk for him.

The jackal started the second kiss. His tongue pierced the wolf's fangs, danced and teased the other man's mouth and lips. His movements, as if to say "lead me." The captain obliged. The invading member turned into a beloved guest.

The longer, wetter embrace of the canines proceeded for minutes. Led by the hot, new feelings, the jackal's hand slid down the gut. The heat and softness were unmatched; that wet cloth hid the actual sensation.

He moved with one target, of course. What the wolf tried to conceal, what his imagination only conjured, was then in his range. He drew constantly closer, his own virility twitched inside his undergarments. At the first sign of contact, the young man could not contain himself and eagerly gripped the rod.

That made the larger canine moan, a sound few had ever heard. The way his deep voice reached a pitch that high, adding to the sensuality of the situation.

"Wait," said Pyrrhos.

He kept the jackal at arm's length. Alexis' mind would have fallen into confusion, but the wolf spoke again before that happened.

"Do you know the rumors? They are true."

He needed no further explanation. Stories of members of the Standing Army, especially high-ranking ones, abusing those of the Youth Army. Perpetrators of such actions rarely went punished, so the problem was widespread.

The thought of being targeted by such bad actors had crossed Alexis' mind. His ears and snout dropped.

Pyrrhos was there to stop it, however. He raised the lad's chin.

"I do not want that."

He spoke again matter-of-factly. Like nothing before that had ever happened between the two. The serious look, the facade, returned. The quick switch was scary, but the trembling palms on the youth's shoulders revealed the feelings underneath it.

"Do you understand?"

"I do, Captain Pyrrhos."

With a sigh, the grip completely steadied. A genuine smile formed in the red man's mouth. The back of the brawny hand caressed the jackal's muzzle. The young man just gave in, nuzzling against it; no punishment, only comfort. Alexis could finally beam in return.

"Alexis..."

Pyrrhos moved his hands again, to the jackal's back. The youth braced himself for another kiss; the wolf surprised him. The larger canine's head flew past his own and landed at his shoulder.

"Call me Pyrrhos."

The warmest embrace. The chill wind had no effect on the couple. The previously drooped arms of the jackal move to mimic the wolf's.

"Yes... Pyrrhos."

There they remained, nestled in each other, eyes closed.

Through the thick of the green, through the sleeping streets of the silver town, and to the sea of tents for the captains, the young man felt none of that. The warmth of the wolf alone dominated his senses.

His body gently put down against the straw bedding on the tent's floor. The situation hitting him as the warm touch faded. He was where only his dreams took him before. Just ahead of him, unfortunately coated in darkness, his idol stripped; for him.

The older canine, completely exposed, straddled the lying youth. Pyrrhos' frame towered over him, but weighed on him none. The wolf was careful to put all his heaviness on his own thighs, conscious of the lad's position.

Their snouts were again touching. While Alexis' face heated with a mix of embarrassment and elation, the red-furred hands probed the jackal's chest. By then, the youth had become somewhat intimate with the wolf, but the older man was yet to see his body beyond what the tunic covered.

He was quick to undo the buttons holding the youth's tunic, and so exposed the fit pecs. No way Alexis could match the development of the wolf's body, but his build more than satisfied the older canine. Brawny hands circled and groped that chest. The young man softly moaned and gasped; no one had touched him like that before, and to Pyrrhos it was obvious.

"Handsome..."

His curious face plunged to meet the pectorals. The youth's nose advanced to the brownish hair of the older man, as the wolf's own nostrils scrutinized the golden fur. The jackal thanked the wolf by constantly rubbing those meaty thighs by him.

Face pulled back, the red wolf knew he had to go deeper. The canine's fingers dug through the straw and undid the straps that held the youth's leather belt. Somehow, to Alexis, everything before that point could have been a very vivid wet dream. But how hands caressed his tunic, and then how he was free from clothing himself, was the ultimate proof. That was happening for real. Alexis had not brought a proper perizoma to war, so his barely contained erection hid behind a thin piece of cloth. The wolf caressed it for a bit before undoing its meek cage. The jackal moaned as the point of climax steadily approached. Their virilities finally touched, nothing in between the other's heat.

Pyrrhos advanced into Alexis one last time to address him.

"Are you ready?"

He was; for anything. His idol, the man he had admired and dreamed of for ages, his first. He would take all that manhood, lose his chastity to his hero.

"Yes," he finally answered in a faulty voice. "Take me, Pyrrhos. Make me yours."

The eager answer genuinely surprised the wolf. To the point, his astonishment turned into a light chuckle. Not out of mockery, but of sheer disbelief that such words could come out of the young man beneath him like those did.

"No, Alexis. We will take it slow tonight."

He kissed the man again before the jackal could respond or get embarrassed. As their tongues and penises wrestled, the wolf's hand grabbed both members. They broke the kiss by moaning.

"You are going to enjoy this way more," said Pyrrhos.

A slow start. The older wolf knew exactly how men liked it. The lad was too fresh, too sensitive; starting with anything stronger than that might have actually hurt him. They moaned into each other. The youth's hands had moved to taking the towering canine by the waist.

"How... How are you holding up?" The wolf said between damp gasps.

"Good... Feels so good."

"Great... Let us go a bit faster, alright?"

And so he did. The manly hand picked up its pace, some wetness from both rods easing the movements. The increment also raised the volume of the lad's moans. In desperation, Pyrrhos shut the lad by putting his palm over that mouth.

"We must be quiet! The other captains are close." Noticing the abrasiveness of his action, he moved to amend his mistake, "Ah! Forgive me..."

Before he took the hand completely from the jackal's snout, the young man nibbled at the tip of two fingers. Was that acceptable? Was that hot? The youth did not know, but was sucking on those digits with a naughty grin.

"You like that?" Said Pyrrhos with a chuckle. "Very well. Enjoy it."

He inserted more of his fingers in, Alexis responded by suckling it with energy. His mouth was being pleasured, even the wolf's carefully trimmed nails he enjoyed. It assisted with the sound too, grunts and moans doused by the canine's hand.

One moan was louder than the rest; the youngster was on the edge of overflowing.

"You are close, aren't you? Don't hold back."

The older man went for the deathblow. He stilled his hand on both cocks and performed pelvic thrusts instead. It was too much for the young jackal.

He came, as he never had. The wolf watched in awe as the unique virility of youth afforded him with powerful and far-reaching shots. The white liquid glistened as it flew to its sender's body and face. After the blasts ended, the older canine removed his hand from the joint crotches.

"Beautiful..." He said and then brought the hand to his face, licking it clean of seed. "Tasty too."

Alexis was in an afterglow. But before he could relinquish himself to sleep, he had one last move to perform. In an abrupt shift, his hand went from the canine's waist to his cock. Unlike the wolf who acted with cadence, the jackal jerked with strength and energy.

"Oh! Alexis!"

The youth gave his superior no quarter. Even when his saliva-covered digits moved to support the wolf on the young man's chest and sigh heavily over him did he slow down.

The wolf threw his body back and surrendered to pleasure and hit an orgasm. In power, his shots overshadowed his younger counterpart. Alexis let his hero's sperm coat him, aiming the cock to his mouth agape.

Once the red wolf ceased, both satisfied, he joined the golden jackal on the bedding. His muscular yet chubby body fitting neatly beside him.

"So," the man drew his finger over the mixture of spunk covering the lad's chest, "how did you like it?"

"It was great, Pyrrhos."

"Good, I enjoyed it too."

The captain hugged his soldier, letting the blend of sperm soil his own body. Pyrrhos put Alexis' head on his chest and covered the combined bodies in a cloth.

"Rest, Alexis. You did wonderfully."

The wolf's heartbeat, a lullaby that led Alexis to sleep.

---

The earliest bits of sunrise broke through the tent's material, waking the jackal immediately. Took him a while to tell that he was lying naked beneath the sheets in a captain's tent. His superior was not beside him, however. The wolf was getting presentable when he noticed the jackal awake.

"Ah! Good morning, Alexis. I was about to rouse you."

Everything had happened in reality. The events of the previous night played and replayed in the sleepy man's head. Barely, he could discern what Pyrrhos had told him.

"Alexis," he said while squatting by the jackal. "Listen, I must leave now. The captains are preparing for the departure. Join the other soldiers, alright?"

"Yes, Captain Pyrrhos..."

His face dropped. Like after his past encounters, once all done, outside that tent, everything became the same. Speaking matter-of-factly, using salutes and honorifics, only watching from afar.

"Listen, I know what kinds of thoughts are going through that head right now." He put one of his hands on the jackal's shoulder, which prompted the youth to face him. "Do not worry, we will meet again. It's a promise."

The wolf placed another kiss on the young man; that time on his forehead. That awarded him with a smile from the jackal. Though not wholly false, both knew the sentiments behind it were incomplete.

The wolf was about to leave when he remembered something important.

"Before you leave, soldier," he said, flushed, "you should use that bucket and cloth I fetched. Get yourself cleaned up."

The events of that morning had distracted him from himself. Two sniffs and he could tell the distinct smell of dry manhood on him. Upon that realization, he turned, embarrassed.

"Yes! Thank you, sir!"

The day proceeded as normal, no one noticed, or bothered to mention, the couple's actions from the earlier night. The army, except a handful of Standing Army troops, returned to the city-state of Aolia before noon, arriving at the polis late into the night.

To the jackal, following days dragged. But not uneventfully. For their bravery in the Battle of Argyros, the Council graduated participant members of the Youth Army. Many proceeded to a position in the Standing Army, but not Alexis.

He felt ill suited for war and hurt for the mysterious absence of the wolf. And yet neither truly left his mind. Those words, that promise, he wanted to believe them, but the distance and the silence became pain.

A public announcement said that the newest member of the Band of the Sacred Beads had chosen his companion. Pyrrhos would give the news in the arena. Alexis went, of course. Even if distant, he thought, he could admire the wolf as the idol he had always been.

Alexis never saw the square so full. Civilians packed the bleachers, cheering, waiting to see the newest members of their prestigious army. They filled so much of the space, soldiers and the recently graduated would stand within the sandy area. The young army men, unlike the crowd, erect in anxious silence. Deep down, all men held the chance to become the red wolf's aide.

The youths circled a small podium where the General and Pyrrhos stood; so did the tournament's first, second and third place combatants. With a motion from the leader of the army, the whole place turned quiet.

"People of Aolia," bellowed the General, "we stand here for the Goddess blessed us with a new warrior that shall hold Her wishes in combat! Pyrrhos Adamos holds Her blessed beads and shall give them to his companion, as did the soldier of old!"

He put attention on the red wolf who held the beads aloft. Most attendants praised the man with prominent voices. Once they settled, he raised his own tone.

"I come bearing the gift of the Goddess! She has accepted my decision as I have taken Her blessings! Oh, guide me, Aolia Victoria!"

He brought his hand to his chest. After a pause, a silent prayer and a deep sigh, he moved to his choice.

He passed the victors, gave them little attention. Descended from the elevated wooden floor and dove into the crowd of young men that circled him. Pyrrhos made a beeline to his squire effortlessly.

He did not want to believe it. A dream born from his stupid feelings and longing for the wolf. And yet, the morning light above him burned his eyes, his curled up toes felt the leather beneath, and the massive red body stood in front of him, hand extended.

The combination of blue and green stones on his hands shone with the sun. Alexis heard the deep voice speak, under the illusion of detachment, full of emotion.

"Will you be my Lancer?"