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Chapter 12: The Chosen

Young, skinny Tikka moved along with a switching tail, a basket of apples on her hip. Up in the foothills not far behind her, the rest of her tribe were coming down from the mountains to do the same thing: it was the yearly apple hunt! At the end of each year faithfully, the autumn wolves, in their land of nature's eternal slumber, would venture down from their caves in search of apples. These apples were not just any apples but were very special: they were rumored to add ten years to a wolf's life! Most moon wolves went for the story when staring in amazement at the pretty apples and their golden swirls when they were held up in the sunlight at market. But the autumn wolves knew the truth: they were nothing more than pretty apples. And the only reason moon wolves could not get the apples themselves was because no sane wolf would dare to enter the territory of the winged warriors. So the autumn wolves gladly collected the "magic" apples and gladly told their lie.

It was a dupe. And one way the autumn wolves survived. Though their tribe was mocked for living in caves like dimwitted bears, they were in fact the most cunning wolves on that side of the sea - or so they bragged to one another as they beat apples together to make fire. They were considered the ugliest of all the wolf tribes: hideously haggard, smelly, and covered in matted fur. The snooty and stunning moon wolves jerked their chins and sniffed to each other that it was the poor diet of those foolish autumn wolves, and with that, they vowed to never dare mix blood with "the cave kind."

As far as looks went, Tikka was no different than the rest of her tribe: short, thin and ugly, and covered in matted, funny-smelling, gray fur. Her tits were sharp and almost deflated, her high cheekbones fairly blared from her face, and her pale, colorless eyes and their white lashes were sunken. She was thin as a blade of grass and almost shapeless to boot. Yes, they were starving up in their damp, dreary caves, the autumn wolves, and were too damn stupid to realize. Their pups were born with deformities sometimes so hideous that their own mothers murdered them in the night. It was a barbaric place to live, and Tikka fancied herself the unhappiest of them all.

For, compared to the other ugly little females, Tikka was considered the prettiest. She was therefore used at leisure by whichever male wanted her. Day and night, they pulled her little hips to their hungry erections and rode her, sometimes on their knees, sometimes squatting as she - her small face flustered and alarmed - squirmed to escape them like a bird caught by the tail. Others laughed and watched her rape, munching on apples and yelling encouragement. When it was over, they held her down, and each took turns rolling an apple against her pussy, which they would then eat. Then they would forget her and fall to laughing and talking, and with her breathless body shivering, Tikka would crawl off to some corner and fall asleep.

Tikka had thought so many times of simply running away, but she felt too stupid to manage it. She had never been beyond the edge of their forest. She couldn't even tell a lost traveler which way the moon village was let alone how to find the sea. Running away meant being alone and lost and uncertain and open to any number of horrors. For though the males of her tribe used her like a toy, they had never once really done her body any harm. Just her weakly submissive soul . . .

No, Tikka knew if she ran away, there were males in the world who would hurt her very badly, punch her, cut her, even murder her when they had satisfied their lust. So she stayed where she felt safest, where she had friends and family, where there were many males to protect her from the more brutal of their sex. And she rolled over . . . and accepted her fate.

A slave. That's all she was. That's all she and many of the females were unless they had a male to speak up for them. What Tikka wouldn't give to fall in love, to have a male yell at the others and smack them off and horrify them with his fangs when they sought to rape her. . . . the way her father had before he died. This male would protect her and love her and . . .

Tikka squeezed her eyes shut and walked faster into the forest, pausing every now and then to reach for an apple and examine it. No, she must put such thoughts from her mind. The second she started dreaming and wishing was the second she would only increase her unhappiness. Swallowing hard, she placed the apple in her basket and bent for another one, singing in a low voice in some meager attempt to cheer herself,

"Had I eyes the purest blue, could you find it worth to love me true? And had I fur like feathery down, could you find it worth to love me now?"

"I find you intriguing nonetheless," said a voice. A strange voice. A deep voice. A male's voice!

Tikka gasped and dropped the apple. Her pale eyes darted between the trees. "Who's out there!" she demanded, her sharp little tits heaving. She looked back and forth, her feet taking a few frightened steps back. "I'll give the howl and my tribe will come running! All sixty-eight hundred of 'em!" she lied.

Laughter erupted somewhere behind Tikka and she spun around. The laughter continued, and as it grew louder, it seemed to come from all directions. Tikka dropped her basket and covered her ears.

"Stop it! Stop it! Where are you!"

"Where would you like me to be?"

Blinking and confused, Tikka dropped her paws to her sides. "What kind of question is that?"

"One you should think about answering . . . if you ever want out of the autumn village."

Tikka's ears pricked forward. "Um, okay . . ." she said uncertainly. "I - I want you to be . . . um, right where that apple is!" and she pointed at an apple on the path in front of her.

A figure manifested there almost at once, and Tikka was so shocked that she tripped backward and merely stood, staring and mouthing silent words. He was a very handsome male, tall and dashing, with a gentle look and an endearing smile. He stood with one arm bent behind his back, the other bent before him as if he was holding an invisible towel. His body was predominantly a rusty red in color, like the leaves that constantly fell in the lands of the autumn tribe! But his paws and mane were black, and covering his front from his chest all the way to his - Tikka blushed - was a sheath of soft white fur. Tikka had never seen such soft fur in her life. No wolf in her tribe had it. But what was most peculiar about the stranger was his number of tails. Instead of one rusty tail tipped black, he seemed to possess about twenty, all floating upright behind him like the tail feathers of a peacock. Tikka stood drinking in the handsome stranger and completely forgot herself. He smiled at her shock, and bending down, he picked up the apple and offered it to her.

"Does this belong to you?"

"Y-Yes," answered the girl breathlessly and moved forward to take it.

Had Tikka been a bit wiser, she would have realized the stranger was offering the apple in order to draw her near. But Tikka was not wise. And what was more, she was too preoccupied with the strange pulsing going on below her waist. Something was happening to her. For the first time in her life . . . she was getting wet. She blushed scarlet when the stranger's nostrils flared to take in the scent of her pussy. As if under his spell, she closed her paw over the offered apple and shivered when their fingers brushed. Without warning, he locked his paw over hers and yanked her near. She started to scream, but he covered her mouth in an instant and said gently, "I'm not going to hurt you, Tikka. Understand? I just want to touch you. That's all I'm going to do."

Tikka nodded mutely behind his paw and was glad when he took it away. His paw traveled down her back, smoothed over the shape of her ass, then cupped under. Tikka gasped when he pushed her flickering tail aside, and after spreading her pussy lips with two fingers, he sank a third sharply up and in. She blushed and squirmed as she felt him pushing around inside. After a moment of feeling and caressing, he brought his fingers to his face and she felt her cheeks get so hot that she knew must've looked like a plum: his finger was covered in her shiny juices. God, it was more than obvious that she wanted him now! She couldn't believe it when he brought his wet fingers close to his nose and sniffed. He grinned at her.

"You smell like the apples."

Tikka looked down, wanting to sink into the ground when he slowly pressed his fingers into his lips and added, "Mmm. You taste like them too."

"How - how do you know my n-name?" she stammered, all aflutter as his paws began exploring her.

His fingers roamed up and down her body, touching her in ways that the males back at home had never: as if she was actually appealing! For there were plenty of handsome young males in the autumn village. But the females were usually very ugly, and it was normally some pretty moon wolf that a male was thinking of when he lay with an autumn female. But this stranger . . . Tikka could tell he was thinking about her. Her body. Her smell. Her taste.

He suddenly kissed her, and she had never been kissed before, so she froze. He cupped the back of her head, a silent encouragement, and she timidly kissed him back - then more fervently as she realized just how good it felt and just how good he tasted.

"I know everything about you, Tikka," he said as he paused to squeeze one of her little tits. "I know you've given birth three times, and that three times, the males of the autumn tribe killed your deformed children. They soothed you later, didn't they? They told you the pups wouldn't have survived. "

Tikka's colorless eyes blinked out tears, but she could not stop looking at the stranger as he continued.

"I know that your father died when you were very young. He was very old, and it had taken a long time for him to seed a child that would outlive infancy. Compared to most autumn pups, you were healthy and strong and stubborn. Even when your mother had died, you kept trying to nurse from her. They gave you to another nursing mother, and thus you survived."

Tikka gazed at him with trembling lips, caught somewhere between terror and wonder.

"I know that in your father's eternal absence, the other males now rape you several times a day. I know you think of running away but are too frightened. I know that when you sing, the damned trees draw near, it's so beautiful. And I know that right now . . . you want nothing more than for me to be inside of you."

Tikka smiled through her tears and felt so happy and safe when he closed his arms around her. It was almost like having her father back, like being a child again to feel those kisses in her mane - only no child had ever wanted their father the way she wanted this handsome, tall male to touch her. She felt ashamed of her lust. And embarrassed. In the autumn village, females were not to possess desire. Desire aroused the jealousy of the males, made them brawl and even kill and tore them apart. But should a female want no male in particular, it made primitive life in the autumn village run much more as it should: primitively.

"If you come with me, Tikka, I can give you everything you ever wanted. You want love? I already love you. I've loved you since the moment I first saw you exactly one year ago. You want a child? You will certainly get a child with me, one that will live for hundreds of years. You want physical beauty to match that charming soul you already possess? It's yours."

So saying, the stranger backed away, his deep and darkly erotic gaze fixed upon her. He reached behind him, aiming his paw low at the ground, and when he came to a stop, Tikka saw a small pool of water take form near his feet. Instantly drawn to it, she took several steps toward the pool and gasped at what she saw in her reflection: she was beautiful! Her limp and ragged mane was full and bouncy, her gray and matted fur had become white and fluffy, and her once flat, colorless eyes were now the most striking shade of blue. Her lashes were long and thick, her nose pink like her nipples, her breasts bigger, higher, firmer. She gasped at her reflection, staring like one in a trance. But the stranger closed his paw into a sudden fist, and the pool of water sucked into itself and vanished. Tikka looked up at him breathlessly.

"You can look that way," the stranger said, "if you come away with me."

Tikka stared at him. "What is your name?"

He grinned. "I was waiting for you to ask that."

She stood frozen as he approached her, and taking her in his arms, he whispered, "Dyzere, son of the son of the king of foxes."