The Master of Legends
(Wry remark: enjoy the yiff, ignore the religious commentary.)
The Master of Legends
The young hyena finished his rations, just after sundown, feeling better after a week of GDF aid than he had felt in the last month. Ditaren had heard that the game was becoming quite thin for his tribe, and Aresuf said it would snow soon.
Ditaren was a rather unusual case. When he reached maturity one year ago in the fall, his father had taken the ritual step of disowning him, even though he could not complete the rite of passage to adulthood until next spring. He was not yet admitted as a member of the tribe, but no longer had child status either. He was expected to behave, but would not be given respect in return.
This position frustrated him greatly; and it was to Aresuf to whom he went to try and solve it. Despite being only twice Ditaren's age, and in the prime of his life, the shaman seemed decrepid. There he lay, on his side, legs folded halfway to his chest. He hid beneath the heavy woven blanket embroidered with all the symbols of the spirits. It was the pattern he saw: the great circle of history, of nature, and of events. The only trouble was that, and after many of his visions, this is how he ended up.
"Enough, Vachi," he whimpered without opening his eyes, "leave me be."
Presuming that it was his steps that made him react, Ditaren replied quietly, "no, Aresuf, it is Ditaren." He placed his hand on the hyena's shoulder.
Aresuf shiverred, and took it with his own from beneath him. "Ah," he sighed weakly, "the spirits have spoken."
Ditaren listened; not because he was taught to respect his elders, but because the wisdom Aresuf had applied so well to him most of the time.
"The cycle has come again. Jungar has been spited by Vachi, and he must make amends. And she is so angry... I can feel her anger..."
From having heard the story before, Ditaren knew what it was about. It was about the changing of the seasons -- winter was her cold ignoring of him, spring was their return to romance.
"But there is more," he continued, voice rising a little, "you come to me with a problem, and that is why she torments me. Vachi is upset with me for not telling you the wisdom of the land, for you are of age. It is knowledge that shall make you seen in the eyes of Jungar as an adult. You must show you are worthy of it, before she will let me alone."
"How shall I to do that?" he asked quietly, feeling as if talking too loud would disturb him in his state of weakness.
"Ask others who have tread the path before you. Tohar or Miryna should remember."
In this strange state between adult and child, Tohar -- his adopted brother -- was the only one who had treated him as an adult. Perhaps it was because he was the only one he told the moment he came of age.
"Just do so quickly," Aresuf continued, "she will not let me go..."
"Yes, Aresuf," Ditaren said with a bow, knowing he would get over his state, and exited the hut.
***
The next morning, he went to see Tohar at sunrise. Ditaren found the hyena two years his elder in his family's hut. Despite the fact that Ditaren's father had adopted Tohar, after his natural father died and mother left the tribe, Tohar still kept his own family's hut in good condition and slept in it.
"Tohar," Ditaren addressed in a moderately loud voice.
No response.
"Tohar," he repeated, shaking his arm this time.
"Mmm," he grunted without moving.
"Wake up, please. I have questions."
"Ditaren," he mumbled, "could you let me sleep?" He still did not move, but grew a smile in the corner of his mouth.
"Aresuf sent me," Ditaren insisted, "he wants me to obtain the secret of Jungar. Vachi will torment him until I get it."
This, at least, made Tohar sit up slowly. "Oh. I suppose you are old enough," he grunted, "I just always think of you as a pup."
He stretched and scratched, while Ditaren watched him. He was impatiently waiting for the thing that could make him an adult, at last.
Finally, Tohar suggested, "I would say you should talk to Mirya about that."
"C'mon," he whined, "why won't you tell me?"
"You like me, but you don't want to marry me, do you?"
Ditaren didn't see what the question had to do with it. "What?" he could only ask.
"The secret is the first part of the marriage cerimony. Since you have matured in the eyes of Vachi, Jungar will bind you in marriage, and you shall be an adult."
"But -- I don't want to get married," he answered.
"You won't have to. Aresuf will get Jungar's attention, you get his blessing, and then you are an adult. You don't have to follow through completely until you choose a wife."
Now Ditaren got nervous. "I still don't like it," was what he said.
"Why? Don't you ever want to marry someone -- I mean ever?"
Ditaren remained silent and looked everywhere but at Tohar.
"Don't be silly. Everyone wants to get married eventually. Think about how long the rest of your life is, and then tell me you want no wife or children."
Tohar smiled, but Ditaren did not return it. "I don't want to get married for -- a very specific reason," Ditaren answered.
"Could you tell me what it is?" Tohar asked gently, putting his hand on his shoulder.
Ditaren was about to speak to his only confidant, when he felt that hand. It was nothing Tohar did, but what he was about to say that provided new meaning to the simple gesture. It made him hesitate.
Ditaren grit his teeth, and despite trying to force himself to speak, admitted, "I can't talk about it."
"Not even to me?" Tohar whispered, turning the pat into a rub slowly up and down his back.
"I'm sorry," Ditaren answered, afraid to show any of his complex mixture of feelings.
"Would you like to hear about my coming of age?" Tohar asked.
Ditaren didn't answer. Tohar took silence as assent.
"One day, just like you, Vachi told me I was an adult, the same way it happens to all males. Your father told me it was natural, and that I, too, should marry. But I didn't want to marry, either, and instead became a hunter for the tribe. Aresuf found this very unusual, but he had seen it before.
"He told me to become his pupil, and learn about the spirits. All I had to do, he said, was listen to stories, and help him to rest when he returned his vision hunts. And do you know what I saw?"
Ditaren wasn't really listening, until Tohar whispered directly into his ear, "I saw Aresuf naked."
Ditaren's shoulders trembled when he heard it. The image conjured up by the words was just in line with the daydreams he had; sometimes Aresuf, sometimes someone Tohar's age. The smell of their sweat, the softness of their fur, their strong embrace and passionate kisses -- all were indescribable.
Ditaren put his hands down on the bed so they wouldn't shake, and crossed his legs, for his leggings would not hide his growing erection. "What did you think of him?" was all he could manage to ask.
The answer came whispered in his ear, once again. "I thought he was beautiful."
Ditaren knew he couldn't hide anymore, and at last managed to stammer, "I-I-I agree."
"That's okay," Tohar answered with a smile, "would you like to see what he looks like? I can tell you just what to do. ..."
The same day, when Miryna asked after him, Ditaren asked her about the secret anyway. They then went to Aresuf, who cast the spell. Ditaren said the right words, making him an adult, who was about to get married -- but Aresuf didn't finish. The tribe was told, and began treating him differently immediately. Even the body language of the grizzliest elder changed. It was astonishing, and more than Ditaren had hoped for.
The next day, however, he followed Tohar's instructions to pursue the opposite goal. He found Aresuf; sitting up this time, and a complex robe of furs, feathers, and cloth patterns hiding the form of his body instead.
"Ditaren," he said, bowing to his equal.
But Ditaren bowed deeper, still showing respect. "I came to thank you for what you did yesterday," he said, managing to concentrate on the task at hand, and not get nervous.
"It was the least I could do. May I ask why your father kicked you out early?"
"I don't know," he replied honestly, "maybe because I was getting Tohar in trouble."
Aresuf chuckled. "Yes, I have heard about you and Tohar."
"But, I just have this feeling since the ritual," interrupted Ditaren, before he lost his nerve, "something seems -- wrong."
"Wrong?"
"The spirits bother me. Perhaps if I studied them, and learned about them, I could figure out what the problem was."
Ditaren waited with baited breath -- but Aresuf seemed to stare at him for a long moment. Finally, he raised one eyebrow, and repeated in a level voice, "study the spirits?"
"Yes," answered Ditaren, "since you cast that spell, I wonder if they are doing something else to me."
Silence followed. Ditaren began to think it wouldn't work; he had to find something to make it work.
As Aresuf gazed at him, as if divining some great secret, Ditaren was prodded to add, "Tohar suggested this when I talked to him yesterday."
The response was immediate, but contemplative. "I see," he replied, looking up at the ceiling. "If you came here with Miryna," he said without looking down, eyes seeming to gaze into the spirit world even now, "I would not suggest you follow the advice of Tohar."
Ditaren gulped. He couldn't tell Aresuf that he wanted to get out of it. He pushed, "things like that are why I wish to study with you. I really would like to know more about this, no matter what Miryna thinks."
Aresuf took his eyes down from the ceiling and once again began staring right through Ditaren's skull. Ditaren did his best to stare back, concentrating on the pupils he was locked with, trying to keep out the thoughts of his daydreams.
It seemed like a very long time that they stared; Ditaren focusing his mind, and Aresuf trying to read it. "You are very intent on this, aren't you?" Aresuf finally asked.
"Yes," answered Ditaren.
"Very well. To learn about the spirits, you must see them. When the moon is full, several nights from now, I shall teach you to vision hunt. Then we shall begin."
That was not the answer that he was told by Tohar to expect. Ditaren nodded, trying to hide his fear.
Ditaren bowed, and left, heart racing. Once outside, he immedately ran to Tohar, who was talking to his father, outside their hut.
"Tohar, I need to speak with you," he panted.
"I'll do it tomorrow," Tohar concluded, and walked away from Ditaren's father as soon as the grey hyena allowed him to. "What happened?" he asked, picking up immediately on the stress of Ditaren's voice.
Once they were out of earshot of most everyone, Ditaren told him. "He didn't tell me to take care of him, he's sending me on a vision hunt!"
"That's okay," answered Tohar, grabbing his shoulders. "He did the same thing for me after the month was up. First full moon, right?"
This made Tohar seem to know what he was talking about once again. "Yes," Ditaren replied anxiously, waiting to be told this was indeed alright.
Tohar smiled. "Oh, you'll enjoy it alright. But if you don't know what is going on, it can be very scary, believe me. If you want to know, then watch Aresuf's hut. He will prepare a night or two before, I would suppose. Then, follow him."
"On a vision hunt? He goes crazy, doesn't he?"
"I don't know, but it will show you what to expect."
***
The next night, as Tohar had predicted, out went Aresuf -- with no robe or hides, only a loin cloth. It was so late, almost everyone was asleep, and Ditaren thought he was the only one to see the shaman leave. He took a deep breath, let the hyena get some distance, and then began using the tracking skills his father taught him.
When Ditaren started following, however, he found Aresuf extremely difficult to track. His prints were so soft, they looked ages old. They were on common trails, which mixed well. But, after going down the only road out of their camp for a distance, they vanished. Fortunately, he heard splashing in the water, and so across the river he went, avoiding splashes by jumping across a series of stones.
Muddy prints soon returned. Around and around in circles the trail went, as if Aresuf was trying to confuse him. When he got closer, he heard Aresuf start laughing and shouting something; he had slowed down considerably. But Ditaren had to see what would happen, and kept going. The prints, which staggered occasionally as the mirth continued, wandered half a mile before Ditaren found himself overlooking brick bulding and a set of tents.
Aresuf crept up to the back door of the building, which Ditaren presumed was the GDF aid office, but did not knock. Ditaren crept as close as he dared, hiding in the last patch of grass that hadn't been clear-cut, 20 feet from the shaman. Aresuf stood outside the door for a moment, becoming almost wooden in an attempt to contain his mirth. When it spontaneously opened, out walked a jaguar in uniform.
He saw him, whispered something, and they hugged in the door -- for an unusually long time. Arm in arm, they walked straight for the underbrush, making Ditaren move to avoid being seen. He could barely hear them.
"-- so soon?" asked the jaguar, able to speak their native language with a bad accent.
"It's time for the costumes!" the shaman exclaimed when they had gotten far enough from the camp.
The jaguar's eyes lit up. "Again? Oh good! Who is it this time?"
"Just another young male who would enjoy the meeting," answered Aresuf with a giggle.
"What's funny?" the jaguar asked, voice becoming suddenly nervous.
"It will be a long winter this year!" Aresuf boldly exclaimed, "because Vachi is really mad!" More snorting and giggling.
"Oh?" the jaguar asked, voice now turning to concern.
"Do you know what she told Jungar!? Do you!?" he laughed. "She said: Eat My Shit!!"
The jaguar seemed to be disgusted, and Ditaren flinched at the most obscene suggestion available in his language. But Aresuf was rolling on the ground, completely overtaken by mirth.
"I guess I don't have to ask how you are doing," was the jaguar's dry reply.
It took quite some time for Aresuf to put a lid on his laughter, and stand up. But when he did, he seemed just as happy.
"I deserve this, dear friend," Aresuf replied with a contented sigh, "Vachi tortured me yesterday."
The jaguar nodded. "I probably should have asked you about the medicine yesterday, then. You might have taken it."
Aresurf giggled a little more, and wrapped his arm around the jaguar. "No medicine," he chastized with a big smile, as if talking to a child, "you don't get it. Feeling this way makes life worth living!
"Don't you see?" the shaman called, probably loud enough for the GDF camp some distance behind to hear. "It is so wonderful! Look around you! Just see the trees! Breathe the air! All of it is alive and beautiful! And so are you, dear friend!" he proclaimed, squeezing the jaguar close to him.
"Vachi says all of it is to be enjoyed! My father lived for nearly 60 years, the most one can ask."
"And because he resisted the medicine, he spent the last year consumed by those spirits of yours."
"Then I'll start when I'm fifty nine!" Aresuf teased with a kiss on the cheek -- that to Ditaren was quite perplexing.
"How about when you turn 33?" retorted the jaguar.
"Please, dear friend, stop this," Aresuf sighed, mirth finally fading. "I need them. I need to hear the spirits, to know what I need to know."
They suddenly stopped walking as Aresuf slowed down, and his face looked like tears were coming.
"I'm sorry, dear friend, I can't do it. I don't want to end up like my father, but I just can't --"
"Okay," answered the jaguar, putting his hands on Aresuf's shouders, "it's okay."
Aresuf took a deep breath to steady himself, chest studdering on the inhale.
"So long as you call them spirits only to your people," reassured the jaguar, "you'll be okay."
Ditaren, however, was more shaken than Aresuf. He had dealt with the spirits many times, not the least of which was the spell just cast the day before yesterday. If Aresuf had been imagining them, was it all nonsense?
The moment he had the thought, his question was answered. "Sometimes, I wish I could teach -- who was it?"
"The human who wrote it down was called Epicurus."
"Yes. I have been trying to get the younger generation to ignore my spirits, but too many are taught by their parents."
Ditaren wanted to run up to them, and demand to know if it was true, and what this 'Epicurus' taught. Instead, he just stared in shock at his eyes threatened to tear up. He could barely stand to hear them, when they resumed talking after Aresuf managed to hold himself together for a quiet moment.
"Now," asked the jaguar gently, "are you feeling better?"
"I think so. I think it's over. Now, if we have another dance to do, shouldn't we practice it?"
"I suppose so," answered the jaguar with the first smile Ditaren had seem from him since their meeting.
"Do you remember your words?"
"Most of them. I wish you would write it down."
"Start out with what you remember and I'll fill in."
They took positions far distant from each other.
"Jungar," began the jaguar loudly, "why has Vacha spited you?"
"Vachi," corrected Aresuf. "This is a legend about marriage, remember? Otherwise, I would make it Vasha."
Ditaren's heart skipped. Vasha was the male form of the same name. He would make two males marry? Only now did Ditaren realize that Aresuf liked males: the affection for this one was not from dealing with a non-tribesman, but from genuine love.
It was enough to temper his anger at the shadowplay that now appeared before him.
"Why has Vachi spited you?" asked the jaguar, repeating his words.
"I have fallen in love."
"With whom, O Great One?"
"With Ditaren."
Ditaren's knees were now shaking. They never looked in his direction, yet his name appeared in a recitation that sounded nothing like a spell.
"A mere mortal, O Great One? How could you descend so?"
"It is how I made them. I made them from my own heart, and so they are beautiful. As Vachi strikes me, so does rarely one of mortal strength."
The jaguar suddenly turned and pointed to a random tree to his left. "There he is!"
"Does he know of my love for him?"
"I shall ask."
The jaguar walked up to the tree, and pushed against it, as if grabbing an invisible creature and pinning it there. Ditaren presumed that was him, as his stomach knotted.
"Hear me mortal!" shouted the jaguar, making Ditaren jump, and even Aresuf flinch, "I am Thom, keeper of -- uh, what am I, again?" he asked, making Aresuf snort and chuckle -- but this time keep control of himself.
The emotion, inexplicably, was enough to make Ditaren smile along with them.
"You are Thom," recited Aresuf slowly, "brother of Jungar, keeper of Keinhal, and worshipped among his kind."
"Got it."
After clearing his throat, he roared again. "Hear me mortal! I am Thom, brother of Jungar, keeper of Keinhal, and worshipped among your kind! The mighty Jungar --"
"Great Jungar," corrected Aresuf.
"The Great Jungar!" continued the jaguar momentarily, "wishes to have your body! What say you!?"
Aresuf, in a voice higher-pitched than Ditaren thought was possible, answered, "Oh! Please give me to him! He can have me!"
They both laughed. And then, as Aresuf advanced to have his way with the imaginary creature, he suddenly turned, and grabbed the jaguar in a lustful kiss instead. Their locked muzzles soon had wrapped arms added to them, stroking each other's bodies. They slowly dropped down to the ground, after which grunting, panting, and groaning began.
Ditaren dared not get closer, but did see their lustful play in his imagination, and couldn't resist using his own hand to best simulate what they must have been feeling. He completed his task with a suppressed whimper very close to the time Aresuf completed his with panting, followed by long grunting growl, and his partner with a long groan of pleasure.
They both seemed to just lay there for a long time, before the jaguar slowly got up.
"So," the jaguar asked, breathing now relaxed, "when is this going to happen?"
"Two days from now, when the moon is full. Do you think you can have the costumes ready by then?"
"Yes."
"Good. I'll send him out wandering this way, and we'll bump into him before too long."
"Okay. I'll see you then, dear friend."
"Until then."
***
The next two days of Ditaren's life were spent hiding at the edge of the camp, inconsolable. He ate nothing, and could face neither Aresuf nor Tohar after the trauma and the drama he saw that night. They were worthy of both his contempt for lying, and his love for their liking of males. He didn't know what to do, except hide from them and cry.
His attempt to get food on the second day, unfortunately, ended his hiding. He had returned to sitting dejectedly, when Tohar spotted him, came up to him, and put arm around him.
"Don't touch me!" he snapped, bringing up his head from between his knees to speak the words, and then returning it there again.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, and took his arm away.
The void against his fur that seemed to replace it was suddenly worse. "No," Ditaren said without raising his head, "touch me."
It reappeared, and the tears started to slow down.
"What did you see?" asked Tohar.
"Don't you know?" sobbed Diraten.
"I sent you because I knew he prepared. I never saw it myself."
"Then you have been spared the greatest, most terrible secret of them all," he whimpered.
"What is it?" Tohar asked, his voice rising.
"You don't want to know."
"Tell me. You can tell me anything. You know that."
It took Ditaren several tries to get it out. "There -- there are -- there are no spirits. Aresuf imagined them. He said so."
"But what of the trees? The birds? The game? The sky?"
"They are what they are," sighed Ditaren, talking more to himself than Tohar. "Spirits are all in his head. His visions are all lies. We hunt in summer, are fed by the GDF in winter, and that's all there is to life!"
His head sank between his knees again, but no more tears would come. "There are no spirits," he repeated, "there are no spirits. There are no spirits. You say you didn't know this."
"I had no idea," answered Tohar, only mildly surprised. "But perhaps there is good in it," he added, "for there is no magic for getting married."
That got Ditaren to sit up. "That's the last thing I want to think about," he growled.
"You should start, for that is probably what Aresuf will be thinking about on that vision hunt."
"I'm going to smother that fire quickly," declared Ditaren.
"But didn't you say you thought about him that way?"
"After what I saw last night, I don't know if I can think about him that way again."
"In that case, good luck. I have to fix a few things for your father."
He silently got up, and left. Ditaren didn't acknowledge his depature.
That night, Ditaren could barely face Aresuf. He walked in and bowed, but his body was wooden and his jaw clenched.
"Something troubles you?" asked Aresuf.
"Nothing more important than this," lied Ditaren.
"Are you truly sure you wish to do this?"
It was the last, honest chance to back out, and perhaps forget everything he had heard. But Ditaren took a deep breath, and decided to let it go by. "I am sure," he replied, doing his best to remain calm, in the face of what he knew would happen.
"In that case, drink this," Aresuf instructed, handing Ditaren a glass vial of opaque, yellowish fluid, probably from the GDF, "and go east into the forest. When moring comes, report to me what you have learned about the spirits."
Ditaren bowed, and left.
He spent quite a bit of time debating whether to actually drink it or not. The power of natural plants was one of the few things that Aresuf seemed to hold real power over, even if spirits didn't exist. Aresuf did not drink a mixture when he went vision hunting, but then his imagination did all the work for him. Deciding he could not execute his daring plan with its effects, whatever they were, he poured it into the garbage pit on his way into the fields.
Ditaren walked loudly through the grass, making his presence known for a distance. Going around long enough, he found the small clearing near the river where their footprints were in the soft dirt. And then, he heard a familiar voice.
"Jungar, why has Vachi spited you?" It seemed to be raised for the purpose of Diraten hearing it.
"I have fallen in love."
As the dialogue continued, the voices came closer.
Finally, the last part came as the voices were behind a tree 10 feet away. "There he is!"
"Does he know my love of him?"
"I shall ask."
What came around it was not recognizable as the jaguar, did Ditaren not know it was him. Thom was indeed a monstrosity. He was almost seven feet tall with shoulders three feet wide. His form was not quite clear, for aside from his muscular arms, a strange tunic of grass, rope, mud, and dirt hung from his shoulders, down to over-sized, pawed feet -- probably false, to create a greater height.
As he drew closer, Ditaren made out a final feature which made him shake, even though he knew it was not real: his face, except his eyes and snout, was hidden by the pure white skull of a hyena. He wore it more like a helmet than a mask, making Diraten realize step one of his plan would be difficult: expose his face.
Closer and closer, the avatar of Thom marched, as Ditaren could do nothing but watch. When it stood about 2 feet from him, out reached the arms, and using great might Ditaren could feel, he was picked up and pushed against the tree stiffly.
"I am Thom!" shouted the Avatar. "Brother of Jungar, keeper of Keinhaaaa!"
Unfortunately, Ditaren's attempt pull the skull off had apparently caught something inside of it, and that got him dropped to the ground.
Not expecting the fall, Ditaren landed on his tail, and yelled in pain, unable to get up. At least, he thought to himself, the jaguar was having more difficulty with the helmet and it's pains.
"The game is over, soldier!!" screamed Ditaren, voice elevated by pain and fear, "show your face!!"
The helmet was slowly taken off, and sure enough, there was a jaguar head beneath.
However, after nothing more than a growl, the hyena was once again forced against the tree with the giant foot being put on his chest. It was definitely fake, and quite heavy.
"He is ready and waiting, Jungar!" called the angry, dethroned Thom, "come fuck him until he bleeds!"
The vulgar words made Ditaren suddenly terrified, struggling harder against the superior weight holding him. If Aresuf had heard his plot a failure, what would he do? Would he still insist upon being Jungar, the Creator of Everything? Would he punish Ditaren in the terrible way the jaguar described?
All these questions were about to be answered as Ditaren heard another pair of foosteps walking with equally mightly strides toward him. Aresuf, too, had a hyena skull, but it was resting upon his shoulder, rather than covering his head. His costume of Jungar consisted of a halo of four-colored feathers covering his chest, in addition to grass and mud. But in spite of the costume Arestuf wore, his disguise seemed to emphasize his scent.
"Hello, Ditaren," stated his familiar voice calmly when he arrived, as Ditaren's eyes now focused on his unprotected 7-inch erection, "I'm surprised you came after learning that I have lied to you all your life about the spirits."
The fear only compounded; how did he know about that?
"I know you were watching us," he said, as if answering his question. "I saw where you had spilled your affection to me on the ground."
Ditaren's pain started to subside as he stared, his own erection starting to make his leg coverings uncomfortable.
Aresuf gently pushed the jaguar away, and helped Ditaren to his feet. He took Ditaren's chin gently, and turned it toward his face, making them lock eyes again. Aresuf's pupils seemed ethereal, thanks to a tiny dot of moonlight reflected in their corners.
"I'm sorry I lied to you," he said with sincerity, eyes softening almost to the point of tears, "I thought you would like this. All those males who end up taking this path like this."
But Ditaren wasn't really listening; he was thinking not about the costume or the spirits, but rather the body he had always wanted to see.
"May I -- touch you?" Ditaren whispered nervously.
Aresuf smiled. "Anywhere I may touch you," he replied softly, stroking Ditaren's cheek with the back of his hand, and making their furs tickle each other.
It sent a shiver down the spine of Ditaren, who immediately went for Aresuf's penis. All he wanted to do was touch it, feel it, get a sense of how big it was.
It made no sense to Ditaren, but all he knew was being able to touch and feel the skin and fur of the one whom he had daydreamed about was incredibly exciting. It was made even more exciting when Aresuf grabbed a tiny knife, less than two inches long, and cut the string on his feather halo, exposing his entire body to Ditaren. Then, ever so gingerly, he cut the thread of Ditaren's leggings, leaving him in the same state as Aresuf.
His raging hardon now made him want to do more than touch. He wrapped his arms ard Aresuf's tall shoulders, and rubbed their bodies together, as his muzzle begged the out-of-reach head for a kiss. The muzzle came down, and locked with his, at his request. That was when Ditaren's excitement seemed to plateau, but in a state of high stimulation he had never experienced. Without really thinking, as he rubbed the fur, he started sliding his body up and down against Aresuf's, feeling the wonderful fur against the sensitive skin of his penis.
But at this point, Aresuf stopped and held him away. "There are better ways to experience pleasure than that, Ditaren," he whispered, continuing to stroke and touch to indicate he was not withdrawing. "Lay down with me," he directed, getting to his knees, and gently guiding Ditaren to follow.
Together they got to their knees, then as Aresuf lay fully on his back, he pulled Ditaren gently up onto his stomach, so as not to further bother his sore tail. Their waists were fairly similar height, it was legs that made the difference, and so their crotches nearly rubbed as the gazed into each other's eyes.
This time, when they started kissing again, Aresuf's hands started specifically running down toward Ditaren's tail hole. But when his tail was touched, Ditaren suddenly went from passion into fear. For the first time, he imagined that it would be possible to put something a little bit lower, and the thought terrifed him.
"No," he whimpered, "don't --"
"Okay, I won't, I'm sorry," whispered Aresuf, "some males like it, some don't. It's okay."
The second guess, however, was much better; he rolled them both over, knelt with Ditaren between his legs, and after pulling his cock gently a few times, started kissing it. It wasn't long after those kisses turned into licks that Ditaren had too much. Thrusting a few times, and groaning in pleasure, he orgasmed, and up came his seed. Aresuf licked it all up, something Ditaren had never really thought about either, but in his state, simply trusted Aresuf as he watched him swallow.
After a little more cleaning, and pulling up the skin as his flesh returned to its normal size, Aresuf then lay down, and with his eyes, asked something to be done to him. Ditaren wasn't quite sure what he would do as he sat up. After petting Aresuf's belly and thighs for a while, he did the only thing he knew how: he took Aresuf's flesh in his hand, and started rubbing inner skin against outer skin.
Aresuf definitely liked it, though his full erection did leak precum for some time before he finally started thrusting, panting, and with a growl, achieved his own orgasm. Out it came, and in a mild panic, Ditaren did the best he could to try and catch it all in his hand. But it just kept squirting slowly out, with each clench of the muscles aresuf had deep inside. The result was that both of his hands, and the testes from which it came, all were a sticky mess when the fluid finally stopped.
As he was trying to figure out what to do about all this, the jaguar -- who he thought had left, given up, or otherwise become irrelevant -- knelt down on the other side, and started licking it up, starting with Ditaren's hands. He didn't ask permission, but Ditaren silently assented to being cleaned, as did Aresuf, or so his mumbles indicated. After the jaguar got up, and headed back toward the building, Aresuf got up, thanked Ditaren and returned to camp.
Ditaren was so fuzzy, he decided to stay right where he was, under the nearest tree, and sleep. After all, he was happy, and no one would miss him.
***
He was awoken, however, by Tohar, when it was light.
"Ditaren?" he asked.
The hyena, with such pleasant memories, did not open his eyes. "Yes, Tohar," he murmured slowly.
"Come, it is time you went hunting."
"Hunting?"
"It it almost mid-day. I have everyone else gathered."
Ditaren decided this was what Aresuf had told everyone Ditaren had chosen, and so managed to drag himself up.
"I take it last night went well," Tohar suggested with a smile.
Ditaren wondered if Tohar could smell how it went, but just said, "yes, it did." His smile, however, was one Tohar seemed to recognize.
"Then you will be pleased to meet the hunting party," he replied.
When they met up with a group of six, they all smiled the same smile, which made Ditaren nervous.
"It's okay," reassured Tohar, "they are all like us. All saw Aresuf, all understand this, none will marry. We have made a pact to simply stand by each other."
"You are one of us, brother," said the tallest one.
Each then walked up to Ditaren and embraced him briefly -- just long enough for him to feel their fur and smell their sweat. He was selected for the group that would actually go hunting, and came to understand what the other group was doing instead.
"I'm not sure if I'm ready for that," he hesitated.
"That's okay," replied Damar, "knowing each other as you and I have is fine. Besides, this way you are not chastized by your father for returning home empty handed."
Ditaren nodded with a smile.
In the end, it was for the best. Though he never did touch Aresuf again, he eventually did choose to explore the body of several new males. As members of the group joined and left, it was an adventure that Ditaren kept up well into old age.
The End.