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The tree was still there. Mottled by time, leaves mostly dead, and still alone but it was there. I don't know why I was so surprised. Perhaps I thought that it would have toppled over by now. It had been ancient when she first brought me, let alone now.

Maybe I had become jaded since I left and had been unconsciously bracing myself for its disappearance or the sight of a fallen corpse. And yet it felt terribly self-indulgent to allow myself a smile now that I had confirmed that it still stood.

A small segment of my sleepy youth trapped here. Partially protected by the ravages of the modern world.

But the tree was just a catalyst. An excuse, a meeting point, an opportunity for more. I gave myself a bemused chuckle as I approached on uneasy feet. Already my cynical inner voice was trying to dampen any bubbles of enthusiasm that I might have. Better to be disappointed now than later.

Desiccated overgrown grass whipped against my ankles, further confirming my suspicions that I was the first to be back in ages. I could almost hear my mind nodding an affirmation, that it had been right. That it had always been right. There was no reason for anyone else to be here, that I was on a fool's errand.

I traverse the rest of the copse anyways.

It's funny how my body and mind were at odds. My breathing is out of control, like a schoolboy on a first date. My eyes deceive me with hints of her shadow behind every object; ready to pounce and wrap her arms around me as I pass. My shoulders instinctively tense in anticipation for her weight that never comes, the tail that has yet to wrap itself around my knees.

Shaking the fantasies from my mind, I continue to press forward. I curse and wipe clammy hands on dusty pant legs. Despite the best efforts of my mind, the body continues to betray and urges me forward. It desperately wants a chance to make amends. A chance we both know we have long since squandered.

The tree looks smaller now. I legitimately cannot tell if it's because I stand taller now or because time has forced it to shrink. Dropping a hand to the bark, I allow calloused fingers to trace its gnarled exterior until they identify a single groove, and another, and another. They form initials that I know by heart and have haunted my dreams.

This discovery comes as a shock. I had feared and even expected that she would have scoured any physical embodiment of our past. Her claws had been readily utilized for lesser transgressions, meaning...

It means that she has never come back. Not once. Not ever. You ruined this place.

My mind whispers its theories to me, once again fabricating harsh and probable realities. It was doing its best to soothe my bruised ego with assurances that it had been right before. And today was no different than any other.

I succumb to its taunts, suddenly exhausted not only by the arduous hike, but also so many conflicting emotions. Slumped against the trunk of aged wood I allowed myself a moment of respite, to reminisce of simpler times.

Of her.

It had been her spot and she had been the one to bring me here. Sworn to secrecy, I had been dragged here one otherwise unmemorable summer evening. In my deepest dreams I can still see the bob of her pointed ears in the dim moonlight, the scent of her sweet strawberry mall perfume wafting off her neck as the tree popped into view.

She had never been able to control her tail and that night was no different. When it wasn't brushing against my abdomen, it snaked around my ankles. It was a poor attempt to conceal her excitement but it brought a smile to me all the same. Though to be fair, everything she did brought smiles and I always followed her on whatever schemes she concocted.

Eyes closed, I could picture the triumphant grin she gave, arms splayed out as she presented her treasure to me. She had timed it perfectly so that the moon was right behind, illuminating her lithe frame. The glisten in her eye the only words needed to convey that she knew that I was impressed.

There was a stream nearby that fed into a small but deep lake. She had always spoke animatedly about a hypothetical cave system beneath and made me promise that we'd explore them together one day. I agreed, if only to see her smile. I had no plans with which to follow through, or the finances to fund her lengthy hypothetical expedition.

Gripped by a sudden bout of curiosity I found myself standing and making my way towards the old lake. The tree was a focal point, yes, but it was everything else around that had made this place special. My sight was useless for this task as I bumbled around, craning my neck for a hint of running water.

Seconds later, I curse again as I step directly into the brook and shiver from the cold. I allow a small measure of congratulatory something to myself. At least I was on the right track and knew that the small lake probably still existed.

The thicket is dense here. And despite my best efforts my limbs are getting nicked in places I didn't even think was possible. Defending one part exposes another and soon I give up, allowing the vegetation to lacerate my body and clothing as it deems fit.

There's a sudden gap in the foliage and I take the opportunity to free myself from another branch to the face only to nearly stumble directly into open waters. The same boughs that seconds prior were threatening to blind me were firmly keeping me safe. The only things preventing an unwanted early bath.

Once I had calmed myself, it was an easy task to gingerly lower myself onto the loamy embankment. Most insects had frozen to death by now so I only had my haggard breathing and the whispers of the nearby stream for conversation.

The moon was approaching its zenith and would have been reflected perfectly over the sheen of the lake surface if I hadn't decided to poke at it with an outstretched limb. Despite the time of night and season the water was still surprisingly tepid and pleasant to the touch.

There was a swimming pun somewhere here, I was sure of it. Like memories of her swam to me or something equally inane. She'd hated puns and this time I did allow myself a smile and reflexively braced for a playful swat that never came.

What did come to me was another fantasy. Of one of the many times she dragged me down here to escape the glare of the sun. Most of the time we'd just dip our paws in, or if things were really bad, she'd splash me and soon clothing clumped and stuck to our fur.

But one especially muggy evening she jumped in seemingly without warning but upon reflection everything was too convenient to have been spontaneous. She squealed at the unexpected chill and pouted when I laughed at her expense. But the laughing stopped as soon as she surfaced. Hormones have a way of shutting people up.

Her blouse had become sheer and when I remembered to breathe, it took me another moment to realize that she was still wearing a bra. But it was a lacy piece of nothing that failed to hide her glorious handfuls and through the rippling water I could see a pair of dark nipples poking through.

She knew I was staring. Neither of us cared. I continued to let my jaw hang and she looked emboldened by the newfound attention, doing nothing to hide herself or even berate me for my lustful eyes.

I'd be lying if I said this moment hadn't been the starting fantasy for many future lonely nights. Her giggles rattling between chilled exhales. Her half lidded eyes frozen onto my own bewildered ones. Even the drips of water running down her hair and over her exposed nape were perfectly recorded in my brain.

I don't stop her when she drags me into the frigid lake.

Our clothing billowed out like ghostly jellyfish and it was her turn to laugh as I yelped from the cold. Though I was partially grateful for the glacial exposure as it helped to keep certain bits under control.

Until she reached out and sent the blood rushing in even greater amounts.

I nearly drowned in that moment. Simultaneously freezing up yet leaning in to take more of her touch. I don't have an idea of what constitutes as large or impressive, but she's clearly surprised. Instead of a teasing comment or even giggling, all I get is:

"Oh."

We float there. Uncertain but hoping that the other will make the next move. While her grasp on my member is firm, she hasn't moved it yet. Not that I cared. Up until that point, no one else other than myself had touched me in such a way and I wasn't about to complain.

But I also didn't think it was fair that she was doing all the manhandling. As we awkwardly tread water mere breaths away from each other, I steeled myself and reached out. Her gaze darted down to my outstretched hand for a fraction of a second but she didn't respond or even relinquish her grip on my manhood.

I'm rewarded with another "oh" when I reach my prize.

It felt like it was made to fit into my hand, the way it molded itself into my palm. I knew she had always bitterly complained of their size but I had dreamed of this moment so many times before. To finally be able to knead them meant they were perfect to me. And it was definitely doing things to my heart rate and the uncomfortable pressure growing in my pants.

Her competitive nature resurfaced now that I had taken the next move. With a smirk on her face she squeezed my growing package that was quickly becoming too large for her own palm. Though it was nothing compared to her grin which grew larger to the point where the dying light of the day glinted off her exposed fang. Her breathing no longer only ragged due to the cold.

She pushes me towards the embankment, towards shallower waters so that we can stand on shaky ground and give our legs some respite. I'm pinned against the shores with damp sand caking my shirt and something sharp stabbing my thigh. I don't care.

I don't know what to do and as excited as I am, I'm equally terrified that my next action or lack of will cause an abrupt end to our impromptu session. Even back then my inner demons were fully mature and openly shrieking that at any moment she would flinch and stare back at me with disgust.

Hormones win out. I press my hips back into her fingers and my free arm burrows under her ruined shirt. Clumsily trying to get under her bra I debate between accepting being separated from her chest by a single layer of cotton as opposed to two, or continuing my inelegant assault to get even closer.

And then the unthinkable happens.

She pushes me away.

She heads back to deeper waters.

She whips a sodden garment in my head.

My heart stops and restarts several times as I struggle to unblind myself and reboot my brain at the same time. I can hear her giggling which has taken on a nervous tone. It sounds like she's closer. The splash of water laps against my shivering torso.

I end up pushing the blouse over my face and wearing it on my head like a makeshift hat. Ignoring the steady trickle of murky water across my nose and behold her sheepishly covering herself up as best she can.

When she gets close enough to reach, I make an attempt to pry her arms away only to get swatted with my own belt. To this day, I have no idea when or how she fumbled around my waistband but I back off all the same and nurse the bruise on my shoulder.

"You next."

I struggle to shuck the jeans off as fast as possible which is a blessing in some ways because it was getting uncomfortably tight. I trip and faceplant, nearly drowning in the process as I rise sputtering and coughing.

She's gone when I finally wipe my bleary eyes clear and have my pants neatly around my ankles. Then I'm back into the water but this time I don't fight it. Something warm and soft is pressed into my back as I try to stand upright.

Cursing the fact that I'm still clothed above the waist, I waddle away; leaving behind my waterlogged pants. I wonder if I should also slip my boxers off but that becomes unnecessary. Her hands have returned and have snaked around inside. This time they have a much better angle with which to maneuver.

I didn't know what to do. I don't want to go any deeper into the cold waters, but I also don't want to back up and crush her against the shore. In the end, I opt to huddle where I am; not deep enough to swim but not shallow enough to bend my knees properly and shoulder the weight.

Raspy exhales rush over the damp fur sticking to my neck. Her fingers have gotten more inquisitive, more aggressive. She's working up a rhythm with one hand, coaxing me forward while the other is cradling and cupping. A familiar pressure approaches and despite the amateur performance I never want it to end.

Alas, we could have been in the Arctic and it still wouldn't have bought me any extra time. With an anticlimactic grunt, I explode underwater as she continues to milk me dry. Globs of white bubble up as she snickers and withdraws her arms.

"Ew."

But it's a playful "ew". Everything about her is playful. Even as she splashes her hands clean and wipes them on the driest part of my shirt. By the time I've cleared my mind, she's already bouncing back onto dry land, clearly satisfied with herself. I curse again, by the time I've crawled out she's properly covered herself back up.

My memory of what happened afterwards is fuzzy. There really was no tactful way to bring up what had just happened and we were both young and awkward. So it became our little secret but I became excited and hopeful each time she invited me to the tree, even making unsubtle suggestions that we should go back more frequently. And while we never did recreate the scene in the lake...

I stand up and brush away the sand at my ankles. There were other memories coming back. Yes, more youthful flirtations and minor teasing, Hell, simply being here was bringing back her muffled laughter on the wind. But there was the event I had been burying.

Climbing back up the slope, I try to triangulate where it happened. She claimed she stumbled upon a point of interest by accident but there is no such thing with her. Everything is meticulously planned whenever she's involved, even if she hid it poorly.

Mentally I'm kicking myself for not paying more attention to my surroundings yet I could hardly blame my younger counterpart. It was the last warm day of the summer and she had picked a skirt that barely covered her butt, giving me flashes of something pink and frilly underneath.

Up top she had some ridiculous tube top that kept sliding down and honestly was not doing her smaller chest any favours. Had I been braver I might have asked her to simply remove it but there was no way I could have mustered anywhere near enough charisma to make that work.

We arrive in another copse, this time with a half ring of various sized rocks. She skips ahead and as always, is proud of her discovery but it feels different this time. Or maybe I just want things to be different and special right now. There wasn't much time left and I want to make this trip last.

She clambered onto one of the rocks and balanced precariously on one foot. Whether or not the show was accidental, I took full advantage to tilt my head to get a better look at her panties.

There were none.

I distinctly remember gasping or wheezing. Some ungraceful combination that made her swivel around and smirk at my clearly shocked expression before hopping back down. This too had been planned, as always.

She saunters up to me and thanks to my locked legs, pushes me over with ease onto the dying grass. I don't know what she has planned for me and I don't care. Right then all I cared about was trying to get a better look as her legs loomed overhead.

I was disappointed when she squatted down, right over my chest, completely obscuring my view. My displeasure must have been apparent because immediately after, she cooed some sweet nothing and stroked the side of my maw.

The hem of her skirt brushed against my chin. Was she getting closer? Why was she inching up towards my face? My breath came out in shallower and shallower puffs as I fantasized about what was about to happen. What she could potentially be allowing me to do.

"Your turn."

My mind is overloaded as her hips descend over my face. It didn't help that I had become blind, forcing me to rely on my heightened remaining senses. The heady musk of her femininity filled my sinuses with every inhale, soft lips pressed against my own, and my hands blindly reached out to guide her waist into a more comfortable position.

Opening my mouth rewarded me with the first sticky strands. Sweet, slightly tangy, and waiting to be lapped up. I direct her accordingly as I become braver in my search for more.

If the claws digging into my forehead are any indication, she's having a good time which only pushes me to be more adventurous. I drag my tongue up towards her little nub and rest there for a moment, enjoying how it throbs and twitches but not letting her get too comfortable. By that point I've already returned down to enjoy more of her nectar.

It's inevitable that my muzzle becomes a viscous mess, especially when I'm actively exploring inside of her. Each time I venture in to get right at the source of her delicious juices she would rhythmically grind her crotch into me to get even deeper. My own crotch is protesting and wanting attention but it can wait, I have more important things to attend to right now.

Her knees press into my temples as a gentle gush threatens to escape past the corners of my mouth. I can't get enough of her and she can't get enough of me. Her throbbing hasn't even stopped and she's already riding my face again, smothering my nose and mouth. I struggle to breathe, doing my best to time my breaths so I don't suffocate though all things considered, it's not a bad way to go.

The next wave comes even sooner, more violent. She's pulling at my hair, her thighs threaten to crush my head while the rational part of my mind panics at the possibility of blacking out. But hormones win again and so I focus on indulging in the sweetness flooding down my throat.

We stay like that for a little while. Connected and unmoving until finally she recovers enough strength to pry herself from my head and stand on wobbly knees. A comment is made about the dopey grin on my face as she bends over to help me off the ground.

I'm lightheaded too, having been deprived of oxygen for many minutes but it was worth it. Almost as worth it as the kiss she plants on the sloppiest side of my cheek. I can't tell if she's being affectionate or just curious as to why I liked her taste that much. But she seems to approve, if her licking her lips is indicative of anything.

And in my hazy mind, somehow I figured that now would be the best time to drop the bomb on her. Maybe it was the fact that we were so close, that I thought that after all we had done together it was a perfect moment. The words tumble forth and I watch her face expectantly.

I regret everything immediately. Her face shifts, no, distorts as a myriad of emotions run through. Her ears go rigid and then plaster themselves against the back of her head before she's gone. I make a half-hearted effort to chase after her but I have no chance of catching her in time. The flick of a tail is the last of her that I ever see.

No amount of calling will bring her back but I try anyways as I fight my way back. I don't know how long I ran nor do I know how I found my way back. The incoming days lead to me discovering all her social media deleted, number unresponsive, her friends refusing to acknowledge me.

With nothing left to lose, it was the perfect whirlwind of emotions that convinced me to accept an offer that sent me across the country. I tried to drown out the memory of her with work, drink, and random flings. But the effects were temporary at best, and the regrets afterwards never justified it.

A branch slaps me across the jaw as I'm knocked out of my mopey reminiscing. It's time to admit that I'm completely lost with no way of finding my way back out. Maybe I should just curl up into a ball and die where I stand.

I do end up squatting down to catch my breath and I've clearly been here too long. The moon is bright tonight and I use its light to help me pick a few burs clinging to my tail. What was I hoping for coming here? Even in the best case scenario there could not have been any satisfactory closure. A literal shot in the dark as I'd be reassigned to the adjacent town by the end of the week. A mere coincidence that Corporate had deployed me right where it all started.

My mind is already berating me again, smug and confident in its assertions that this had been a giant waste of time. But as I sink deeper into my depression a new sensation grips me; fear.

My ears perk up and pick out the distinct rustle of something, or someone moving about. It's not the wind, the wind blows trees and grass about as it pleases. This entity has purpose, and it's coming closer.

No longer wanting to die young, I lurch to my feet and run in the opposite direction. A dozen steps in, I slow down and feel extremely foolish. It was probably nothing. And even if it is, I'm a grown adult, what did I have to be afraid of?

The entity rustles next to me. In no time at all it's caught up and my tail reflexively darts between my legs, getting in the way as I scamper off in a random direction. Ducking, weaving, desperate to try and lose it. No one knows I'm here and who knows how long it'll be until someone realizes I'm gone, or finds my body, finds what's left of me...

It's in front, or more accurately, it dashes up and behind a series of trees. I can see its head poke out with a glimmer in what can only be its eyes. I never stood a chance. Whatever this thing is has been just toying with me the entire time. Can I fight it off? Maybe if I can just scare it off and buy some time before...

A set of pointed ears pop up and dip back behind a tree.

What? It's entirely plausible that I'm hallucinating. Maybe I nicked myself on some kind of poisonous plant earlier or I'm extremely fatigued and susceptible to an overly powerful imagination.

I take my chances and chase after it out of desperation. There's nothing to lose, and if I end up being mauled to death, at least I did so on my own terms. I'm an arm's length from its hiding place before it takes off.

The flicker of a tail disappears into the shrubbery.

I lunge after it and all attempts at calling out die in my throat. Even such a small burst of activity has left me utterly winded. I make a mental note to renew my gym membership so long as I can catch up. I need to. I have to.

My legs threaten to cramp up, my lungs are shrieking, my eyes bulge out in fear that I've lost track of where it's gone. Even my normally pessimistic mind has gone silent, possible because all the blood in my body has been reallocated to more important functions such as running like a maniac. But more likely in fear that for once, I might be right. That everything can be made right again.

I'm back. Back where I started. Where it all started. The decrepit old tree in the middle of it all with the moon shining down, illuminating the two of us. Except this time we're both staring up into the night sky.

"Hey."

She doesn't need to turn.