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Beneath Eucalypt's Embrace

© Cederwyn Whitefurr

1st February, 2024

All Rights Reserved.

In the heart of the sprawling Australian outback, where the sun painted the earth in hues of gold, Jack lived a simple life, as a simple man. In solitude, he lived within the confines of a one-room cottage, made by his great-great-grandfather. It stood as a testament to the will of one man, who'd carved his parcel of land out of the wild, feral scrub and built not only a home – but a family. Its split iron bark construction, shingled roof, and all-timber interior told tales of countless summer days, and cold, desolate winter nights – a true testament to time itself. Although it was a slightly sagging structure, it bore the weight of history and the Australian spirit of enduring and even prospering, under the merciless conditions – a silent witness to the harsh beauty of the land it found itself in.

One fateful day, as Jack sat eating his evening meal, a mixture of homegrown root vegetables and the scrawny hare he'd trapped the night before, Jack's weather-beaten face creased in a frown, as he heard the distinctive calls of the Dingoes.

“You fucking bastards - “ Jack snarled, his temper as hot as the fire in its fireplace. “you'll not take another sheep or lamb from me again..."

As he rose, his fork falling from his fingers, he snatched up his ex-World War II rifle and pulled the bolt back, watching and hearing as the nickel-plated round got chambered and then slid home. Quietly, his cracked leather boots moving across the dusty floor, he opened his cottage door and stepped out into the twilight.

Stealthily, he moved like the ex-military man he was, eyes alert, hearing as sharp as a knife, as he scanned the fields and forest edge. Moving towards his two remaining Ewes, whose sleepy bleats called out, he double-checked them. Both were lying down, seemingly undisturbed.

“Sorry girls," Jack murmured, as he moved away, the tension sliding from his body as he stood upright and tipped his Akubra hat back. “I must be hearing..."

He heard the triumphant cries, then a sound that sickened him to his very core – the final, primal shriek of a kangaroo's last moments...from near his cottage. Quickly, he ran towards the noise, drawn by the sounds of the dingoes fighting amongst themselves.

“Get off you fucking bastards!" Jack shrieked, before skidding to a halt and snapping his rifle up to his shoulder. “Leave it alone!"

Sighting down the iron sights, he lined up the largest, meanest of the wild dingoes – then with an ear-shattering boom – the rifle kicked like his late, lamented mare into his shoulder as he squeezed the trigger.

He didn't miss...

It dropped before it even knew what hit it, the other dingoes howling and scattering into the encroaching darkness, Jack lowered his rifle and sighed softly.

Walking over, he looked down at the dead dingo, its muzzle flecked with blood – and the kangaroo, that gazed up at him, eyes rolling in terror and agony, its chest heaving with the rapid rhythm of its pain and exhaustion. Its silvery-grey fur, once vibrant, now clung to its trembling form, stained by blood and soil it fought desperately to escape. Parts of its fur stood on end, a testament to the terror that had gripped it.

Dried leaves and twigs clung to its body, remnants of its futile struggle against the relentless pack of dingoes that'd brought it down. Its beating was short and labored, its legs a mess of pulsing blood and torn flesh, its feeble cries heartbreaking.

“You poor creature - “ Jack gasped, as he covered its head with his hat, then drew his knife from his belt sheath. “Rest now..."

He granted it a quick, and as painless end, as he could...

Wiping his knife clean, he picked up his hat and hung his head, sorrow etched in his face as he mourned the innocent life, taken in its prime, by the cruelty and violence of nature. As he rolled the kangaroo over, his eyes went wide as he saw the bulge in the pouch – and what was worse – it moved...

“A doe, a pregnant doe..." Jack whispered, as he crouched down, then placed a hand on the fully, heavy pouch. “Easy little one, I'll do for you, as I have done for your mother..."

With gentle hands, Jack carefully opened the deceased doe's pouch, revealing the tiny occupant within. The soft folds of the kangaroo's pouch parted, unveiling its hidden surprise. A barely furred joey, nestled inside, poked its head up from between its long feet, its ears only half erect, the upper halves folded over like delicate petals.

A fine, gossamer-like fluff of fur adorned its miniature form, creating a portrait of innocence and vulnerability. Its wide, dark eyes, expressive and filled with a mixture of fear and curiosity, met Jack's gaze. In the depths of those eyes, Jack sensed a silent acknowledgment, a recognition of the stranger who stood before this scared, orphaned joey, as if it could see into his very soul and heart, seeing the kindness that dwelled within his rough, leathery exterior.

“Come on little one," Jack grunted, hardening his heart as he gripped her by the scruff and pulled her from her mother's pouch, eliciting a frightened series of coughs from the joey. “It'll be kinder too -"

It looked up at him, its eyes wide, muzzle slightly open, giving him a look of such piteous vulnerability and hopelessness, its frightened cries as it began to twitch and struggle, smelling the scent of its dead mother and the sharper, more frightening scent of her spilled blood. Jack felt his heart skip a beat, as she looked at him again – and in that moment – a bond that transcended the boundaries between species, was made. Jack, at that moment, became not just a man, but this orphaned, terrified, and hurting joeys, only hope.

Jack, having had a few over the years, quickly cut the dead does pouch away from her corpse, then like a bag, tumbled the joey back into it and picked it up, holding it against his chest. He knew the pouch would provide a semblance of comfort, and its smell, once he'd rubbed it all over and inside, a makeshift pouch, the joey would accept as being its mother due to her scent.

“Let's get you inside little one," Jack murmured, slinging the rifle up over one shoulder, as he held the trembling pouch close against his chest, letting his heartbeat simulate the dead mother.

*

A day after he rescued her, the joey now in an old jumper, snuggled in against a soft pillowcase, he drove the five hours into town, the haunting cries of the dingoes still echoed in his mind, as he navigated the dusty and dirty outback roads. His truck, a faithful companion held together by baling twine and sheer will, coughed and frequently expelled the strong, dark clouds of diesel and smoke out its exhaust, yet it faithfully carried him and his precious guest, ever onwards. At last, they made their way to town with a mix of determination and sheer willpower.

As fate would have it, managed to procure some replacement milk formula, some bottles, and latex teats of various sizes. The local veterinarian, a reassuring presence in this uncertain time, examined the joey, much to her displeasure, deeming her well enough despite her traumatic ordeal. A vitamin booster injection and electrolytes were administered, and with a newfound sense of responsibility, Jack headed back to the quiet solitude of his cottage.

On the drive back, the Vet's words hung heavy in Jack's heart. He didn't expect her to live, being so young – usually, they lasted the 'fabled three' as he recalled. Three days, three weeks, three months... Jack fought for her survival during those first few weeks, the young joey refusing the artificial milk and latex teat. With each bottle he did manage to get her to drink, however, a subtle transformation occurred, turning reluctance into acceptance.

She not only survived, but she also thrived...

*

Jack was amazed at her will to live, as she grew from a young, frightened orphan, into an adolescent, out of the pouch and still having the occasional bottle, she lay in his lap, happily suckling, as he lightly stroked her chest or belly. After she was finished, he gently wiped her muzzle with a wet rag, before she rolled over and hopped around his cottage, before clawing at the door. He rose stiffly before he opened it for her and she bounded outside – but always kept close to him, returning for a reassuring petting or even a gentle cuddle.

He watched her growing curiosity about the world around her, yet he feared for her future. In the weeks since he'd found her and him, she had bonded with him more and more. He knew it was wrong, she was at heart, a wild creature – who belonged out in the forests, to find a mate and raise joeys of her own amongst a mob of her kind.

Yet, as he witnessed her returning to him, gazing up with eyes filled with love and devotion, he realized he could never turn her away – and in his heart, he didn't want to. Despite his loneliness, whether she nestled with him before the fire or followed him to bed, resting her head on his forearm, every second with her was treasured. Even if she perhaps didn't comprehend his spoken words, the look in her eyes as he talked with her, seemed to make him question himself.

*

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. As the orphaned had grown into a full-grown doe, becoming a loyal, faithful and loving companion. Each morning, she waited for him, handling urgent business outside before she returned to his side once more. Rising on her toes, delicate paws outstretched, she awaited his crouch, taking her paws in his hands and enveloping her in a warm, gentle cuddle. In return, she expressed her affection by lifting her muzzle under his chin, tenderly licking his throat.

*

One morning, he gazed lovingly at her as she looked up, a mixture of vegetables and a few native grasses in a bowl before her. Her ears pricked forwards inquisitively as Jack approached, then crouched down, so he'd be eye to eye with her.

“I got to name you," Jack murmured, his fingers gently stroking her whiskered cheek.

The doe grunted, leaning into his kindly touch.

“How about... where I found you – beneath the Eucalypt – how's that for a lovely name, for a lovely doe?"

Now named, Eucalypt merely blinked, her ears alternating between forwards and backward. Jack, attempting to interpret the expression of her marsupial muzzle, wondered how she felt about her newfound name. A faint scent of the flowering Eucalyptus trees carried on the air, and Jack smiled at Eucalypt, who merely blinked and pricked her ears forward before she licked his forehead and returned to her breakfast.

“I guess that's settled then - “ Jack smiled, lightly ruffling her ears with his fingers.

*

As the days unfolded, Eucalypt integrated herself into Jack's routine. Like a loyal, faithful dog, she followed him around his small farm, occasionally exploring the forest, as her independence and curiosity grew by the day. He'd often sit under a tree, watching Eucalypt's nervous approach of some wild kangaroos – keeping her distance and remaining still and alert. Little by little, she began to assimilate into their mob, but she always returned just before nightfall, to Jack's comfort and his warm cottage.

Here, he would prepare a meal for her, then his own, before both kangaroo doe and human would just lay before the fire, Eucalypt slightly sitting up, one leg folded over the other, completely relaxed and at ease with his presence and touch.

“I see you've made some new friends," Jack whispered, as he stroked her flank, feeling the soft greyish-brown fur.

Eucalypt flicked an ear, as she seemed to gaze into the fire.

“I wish, in hindsight," come the thoughtful words of Jack. “I hadn't let you bond so close with me Eucalypt. I should have kept more distance, as I know you'll never truly return to your kind, I've..."

With a slight turn of her head, Eucalypt gave a quiet vocalization, as if she was trying to prompt him.

“You've become too bonded with me," Jack finished, as he resumed tenderly caressing her. “Look at us, laying before the fire, you completely relaxed and comfortable with me, my touch..."

Eucalypt's muzzle opened wide in a deep yawn, her soft tongue visible for a moment before she pulled herself up onto all fours and began crawling towards his bed.

“Alright, alright," Jack chuckled. “Your point is made, you want to go to bed."

Ignoring him, she crawled up onto his bed, scraping the blankets around a bit, before laying herself down, crossing her hind legs and forelegs, then sitting up and looking at him, before uttering a quiet cough sound. Jack smiled and stripped his clothes off, before he lay down behind her, then moved slightly forward, placing one arm across the bed and the other lightly over her ribs, so he could cuddle her tenderly. Eucalypt lay down, resting her head on his forearm, as she moved slightly, getting more comfortable before she almost instantly went straight to sleep, Jack's warm body against her back, the fireplace heating the cottage, and her trust in her adopted parent – absolute.

The next morning, Jack moaned and trembled in that hazy state between wakefulness and sleep. His mind was filled with dreams of a nature and urge, he'd not had in many years.

“Mmmph, no..." Jack gurgled, his hand fluttering over the bed like he was to ward off elusive sensations.

Once more, his mind spun, the sensations lingering. A comforting warmth, a delicate touch reminiscent of a reunion with a long lost love – their fingers oddly cool, yet their breath exuded a warmth that carried a touch of sensuality. Their tongue as it swirled and ran the length...

With a gasp, Jack's eyes slammed open and he pushed himself back against the wall with a moan and convulsive shudder.

No, no...no... Jack's mind reeled.

Eucalypt, with a startled snort and a cough of fright, fixated her gaze on Jack. In her innocent, deep brown eyes, confusion played out, and her ears subtly folded back. She slowly began to crouch down, a clear sign of her distress and bewilderment at his unexpected and frightening movements.

Don't scare her... Jack's mind screamed at her. She's a wild animal, she doesn't understand – what – she was doing was wrong, be gentle, soothe her, comfort her and reassure her it is alright, you're not angry with her, she – can – smell your scent, look how her nostrils are flared...

“Eucalypt..." Jack shuddered, then carefully petted the bed. “Come, come, please?"

Timidly, Eucalypt crawled back onto his bed, stretching her neck out and ever so brushing his chest with her nostrils, like she was seeking reassurance and comfort. Jack gently stroked her, then pat the bed again.

“It's...alright my girl, lay down, please?"

With a quiver, Eucalypt lay herself back down, her furred body rippling in fright. He carefully placed his hand on her chest, gently stroking and rubbing it, feeling her quickened heartbeat slowly begin to settle.

“I'm...sorry my love," Jack whispered, trying to put her at ease. “Let's... forget that happened, okay?"

Eucalypt quivered once more, before she exhaled and began to relax, just as quickly moving past the moment of awkwardness between them.

Admit it – Jack's mind chuckled. To be_ truthful, no woman has – ever -..._

Jack forcibly shut the thoughts down, thinking of anything other than what had happened, before Eucalypt grunted and placed her paws on his hands.

“You okay sweety?" Jack murmured, lightly nuzzling her ears, something he knew she loved.

His warmth spreading through Eucalypt's back, offering comfort and security in his gentle caresses and touches, Eucalypt slowly pushed his hands down to her belly. He obliged, tickling, lightly scratching and rubbing at it, feeling Eucalypt wriggle and utter quiet grunts and coughs, he assumed, showed her pleasure.

Absently, he rubbed and stroked her, then he gasped as he felt something slick and fur-less under his fingertips. Eucalypt gave a grunt and trembled, instinctively tightening her pouch muscles.

“Woah, easy girl - “ Jack hissed, lightly stroking her with his free hand. “Sorry, was accidental, I can only imagine..."

To his surprise, Eucalypt's tenseness flowed away like water off the cottage roof, and her tight pouch muscles relaxed, before she clasped his forearm between her paws and lightly pulled downwards.

“Wait...you want my hand in there? Aren't you..." He quivered, feeling the slick, fur-less walls, as Eucalypt pulled his hand further down.

Carefully, he tenderly explored her inner pouch, feeling the warmth, way warmer than her external body, the slickness of natural kangaroo oil, then his fingers ever so lightly touched the small teats and Eucalypt's grunts and quivers – this time – were unmistakable. Jack nervously smiled, ever so carefully caressing and rubbing her small teats as Eucalypt twitched and relaxed, her faith and trust in him almost unshakeable – her trust in him absolute.

It wasn't until mid-morning, that Eucalypt grew restless, and Jack carefully eased his fingers out, stroking her belly and working her way up to her chest, kissing the base of each of her ears and holding her close against his chest and belly, Eucalypt drawing love and warmth from their combined bodies.

*

Further bonds were made, their deepening relationship between rescuer and rescued, slowly evolving into something more – but less. Eucalypt came to actively seek out Jack's gentle touches and would lay sprawled, as he used his fingers and palms, to lightly massage and caress both externally, and internally, her warm, slick pouch. Her affections were cautious and curious – he innocence and naivety shown in her careful nuzzle and shy, almost furtive licks.

One morning, after breakfast, Jack crouched down and held her paws in his hands. Eucalypt placed her muzzle under his chin, tilting her head up and licking his throat in their combined and awkward way – showing their absolute trust in each other. Yet there was a restlessness within Eucalypt, a desire – that whilst what her carer did with her, under the quiet of the night – Eucalypt knew he couldn't truly scratch that itch deep within her...

*

Eucalypt vanished one day... leaving Jack at first frantic, as he searched long into the night, calling her name again and again – her evening meal sitting outside the cottage, untouched by morning.

He began to genuinely fear for her...

Eucalypt's absence weighed heavy on Jack's heart. His cottage, once his solitude and home – felt cold, austere, and empty – without her presence. Day after day, he searched, finding no trace of her – it was like she had vanished into thin air – a dream he had had for all those years...

It was an eternity, to his broken, shattered heart. Days stretched into night, into weeks, into a month. He scoured the forest, the trails, familiar and not, ventured into thickets, and even sought help from neighboring farmers, but Eucalypt remained elusive. His routine that once echoed with the comforting presence of his marsupial companion now echoed with emptiness and loss.

In the silence of the cottage, Jack would sit by the fire, staring into its flickering dance, a profound ache settling into his heart. Eucalypt's absence weighed heavily, casting a shadow over the warm and comforting space they had shared, for all those years.

He found himself reminiscing about their shared moments, aching for her quiet companionship. Meals prepared for two – become one, the simple act of laying before the fire became a solitary endeavor, and the landscape outside, once explored together, now left a heaviness in his heart as a reminder of her absence.

Jack's worry at first, turned into sleepless nights, haunted by the fear that something terrible had befallen his beloved companion. He questioned himself, wondering if he'd failed in some way if he should have kept her at a safer distance, not allowed their mutual bond to grow so deep. Around him, the silence of the cottage mirrored the emptiness within him.

*

It was then, on a late, melancholic evening, when hope had nearly been extinguished within his heart, Jack heard a familiar sound – the distinct coughing and claws against the door. Leaping from his chair, he rushed to open it, hardly believing what he was hearing. Eucalypt, with her fur slightly disheveled and an air of exhaustion about her, had returned.

He wasn't sure who leaped into whose arms...

Eucalypt wrapped her paws around his neck, his legs on either side of his hips, as he held her under her furred hips, holding her tight as his tears streaked down his cheeks, Eucalypt making the frightened, joey-like chattering noises as she quivered and clutched him with a crushing embrace.

“Euc..." He began, his voice wracked with emotion before he awkwardly turned around and carried her inside, closing the door with his hip. “My love, I've been worried sick about you – are you alright? Easy, easy girl – you're shaking so hard, I might drop you..."

He carried her to his bed, laying down, as she continued to tremble and bombard him with licks, nuzzles, and more cries and grunts he couldn't make head nor tail of.

“You're okay, you're safe...come on, shhh, easy girl...easy..."

It was late into the night, by the time Eucalypt finally went limp, worn out from her anxiety, stress, and relief at being reunited. Jack gently stroked her, feeling her slick fur and the scent of her sweat that still lingered.

“Sleep my dear, sweet doe - “ Jack murmured, lightly kissing her between her ears. “You're home, and you're safe – that's all that matters..."

He tried to stay awake, his thoughts a turmoil of emotions and imagined reasons for her disappearance. Had she gotten lost? Had something he had done, frightened her? No... he could tell by her body language and her anxious cries, he'd not done anything like that. He hadn't heard the dingoes in months – years even...

Eucalypt's slow beating heart and quiet breathing, soon pulled him down into a deep, exhausted sleep, holding his beloved close.

*

One morning, a gentle breeze blew through the thin curtains, Jack's fingers splayed out on Eucalypt's flank, a gentle, tender moment – a part of the morning ritual they shared, and he slid his hand down towards her pouch. He expected the usual response – the trusting and familiar interaction they'd shared daily. However, this morning carried an unspoken – and unexpected – shift in the air, subtle but palpable.

Eucalypt, usually receptive to Jack's touch, tensed at the approach of his hand. Her ears, once perked forwards in eagerness, now subtly swished backward, and a low, warning series of grunts emitted from her throat. Her paws spread apart, the furred fingers locking as she displayed her claws in a warning gesture. Jack, momentarily taken aback, withdrew his hand, sensing an unusual resistance in his marsupial companion. Their warm connection they had shared, was suddenly and inexplicably, interrupted by her palpable aggression.

Confused, Jack slipped off the bed, watching as Eucalypt followed, then moved a distance away, her movements cautious and guarded, as she crouched and continued to stare at him – like a semi-wild kangaroo. Trust they had built over the years, seemed momentarily shaken almost to its foundations.

Her protective stance, not quite on all fours, but more prepared to fight if she must – an instinctual response that transcended their usual – and pleasurable – morning routine. Jack, thoroughly perplexed by this change in Eucalypt, recognized the need to maintain his distance and respect Eucalypt's boundaries. He paused, furtively glancing towards her, the air heavy with Eucalypt's short, quick breaths and the occasional grunt or twitch of her paws.

At that moment, the cottage, once filled with love and warmth, witness to their shared morning rituals – and nighttime pleasures – held an unfamiliar weight. The dynamics of their relationship had subtly changed, there was the passing of something, as Eucalypt had never shown aggression towards him – now – she was quivering and stressed...

He didn't understand why...

*

Days passed, Eucalypt remaining guarded and tense, no longer sharing his bed, sleeping alone on the old blankets he'd formed a crude bed for her, at the furthest corner of the cottage. Her once-eager response to his cuddles and affections had transformed into nervousness and guarded hesitation. Their mornings, once filled with trust and affection, now felt strained and distant.

Eucalypt, though physically close when she wished, seemed emotionally distant. Her protective instincts were on high alert, and any attempt by Jack to approach her – if she wasn't willing – was met with sharp grunts and warning gestures. The familiar warmth that used to envelop them during their morning ritual – and their shared nights – become a distant memory.

Jack soon understood, then respected Eucalypt's need for space, but he couldn't help shake the feeling of disconnection. He spent nights by the fire, wondering either silently – or out loud, about the nature of their strained relationship.

To his surprise, Eucalypt slowly relaxed her tense body posture, then crawled over to him and tenderly rested her chin on his thigh, gazing up into his eyes with a look he remembered well. Nervous, he reached out and placed a hand lightly on her forearm, giving a tentative touch of acceptance and acknowledgment. Eucalypt grunted, then flicked her ears, before she stood up and then stretched, before crouching and lightly scratching at her pouch.

Jack watched, as she gripped the edges, pulling it down and open, as she slightly stood – her expression looking from his eyes, down between her paws, then back at him – as if silently asking him to look. Carefully, he reached down, using his fingers to every so slightly open the pouch a little wider – before he drew a startled gasp, his eyes widening.

Nestled down near the bottom of her pouch, was a small, hairless, pink jelly-bean-like creature – a newborn joey, that was firmly affixed to one of Eucalypt's swollen teats. The sight was both astonishing and heartwarming. The small, undeveloped joey lay curled within Eucalypt's pouch, its tiny limbs barely perceivable. Jack marveled at the fragility of new life, and the trust Eucalypt had extended by allowing him to witness this intimate moment. At that very moment, the tension that had strained their relationship dissolved, replaced by a renewed sense of connection and understanding that came over him.

“Eucalypt..." Jack wheezed. “Is...you're pregnant?"

Eucalypt clucked and grunted, then scratched at his forearms lightly, before he released her and she re-tightened her pouch muscles.

He sat back, absorbing this revelation that struck him between the eyes like a kick from a cranky mare. Finally, he found the words that eluded him for so long.

“Oh, my sweet, gentle girl – no wonder you were so protective..."

Eucalypt had no idea what he said before she flicked her ears and tentatively nuzzled his shoulder, seeking reassurance and comfort again in his proximity and gentle caresses.

“It's alright my love," Jack murmured, gently stroking her back and kissing between her ears. “You had every right, to be defensive and aggressive – you've got a joey, growing inside your pouch, a wonderful...surprise."

Eucalypt lifted her head, once again resting her muzzle under his chin, as she tenderly licked him, reestablishing those bonds once more.

*

Jack was extremely careful, emotionally and physically, with his contact with Eucalypt, both during the day and especially during the early evening, until they both settled to sleep. As the weeks passed, Eucalypt's joey thrived – and within a few short months, her pouch heavy, Eucalypt grunted and crawled towards her breakfast, her finely furred and now-open-eyed joey, its feet sticking out of her pouch and inquisitive muzzle and eyes following, looked around, its ears folded over as it took its first, surprised look at its new world.

Eucalypt tightened the pouch muscles, much to her Joey's displeasure, her grunts and clucking sounds as she communicated with her offspring, warming Jack's heart.

“Eucalypt," He asked her one morning, as they shared a vegetarian breakfast. “Is it... your joey, is it a buck or a doe?"

With a blink of her eyes, Eucalypt flicked an ear, holding a piece of lettuce between her paws, her muzzle half open as she looked up at him.

“Your...joey - “ Jack whispered, pointing down at the restless joey, that tumbled and kicked Eucalypt's pouch, making her shudder and grunt in displeasure.

To his surprise, as the joey tumbled and kicked again, Eucalypt's patience wore out, and she crouched and dumped the joey headfirst onto the floor, before he looked down at it, and to Jack's ears, really chewed it out. Eucalypt's grunts, clucks, and growls left the barely furred joey quivering, as it chattered and clawed at the tightly bound pouch, trying to get back in.

Eucalypt refused her offspring entrance, breaking Jack's heart, until he looked down at the youngster, reminded of Eucalypt when she was that young and helpless.

“Eucalypt, please – let it back in, it's scared..." Jack pleaded with her.

Eucalypt snorted, then finally relent, crouching down and relaxing her pouch, before her eager joey clambered inside, turning nose over tail and immediately settling, its head and feet and the tip of its tail poking out her pouch.

To Jack's surprise, Eucalypt looked up at him, before she coughed, grunted, and did the strangest thing he'd ever seen or heard her do... Eucalypt crouched down, her claws scrabbling at her furred cloaca, then touched her pouch-bound joey, before uttering a series of clicks, grunts, and coughs.

“Eucalypt, my sweet – I don't... understand kangaroo. What are you trying to tell me?"

Again, she repeated the gesture, then slammed a long foot on the timber floor, as if exasperated or perhaps, annoyed with him. A third time, this was repeated, before Eucalypt visibly quivered, pulling her joey out of her pouch and once more dropping it on the floor – this time – to his surprise, she held it down on its back as she looked up at him.

“Oh...oh..." Jack laughed nervously, realization spreading across his face. “A girl, a beautiful baby girl – a doe, just like you..."

Quickly, Eucalypt crouched and let the scared, confused Joey back into her pouch again, then nuzzled Jack with warmth and affection. He smiled, tenderly stroking her ears, as he laughed quietly, sharing a heartwarming moment, as once more, Eucalypt pressed her nose and muzzle up under his chin, giving that quiet grunting as she slipped her paws into his waiting hands.

“She's beautiful Eucalypt," Jack's love flowed for them both, as he gently enfolded her, holding Eucalypt in a warm, gentle hug. “She'll grow up big and strong, just like her mother..."

Eucalypt grunted then coughed softly, slightly pulling back as she lowered her head and looked at him through the top of her eyes, her long eyelashes twitching.

“Not...exactly... like you my love," Jack nervously swallowed then hugged her again. “You're... one of a kind my dear, sweet doe. I never imagined I... we...would share a bond such as we do, its..."

His words trailed away, as Eucalypt grunted, then licked his nose in a meaningful, and playful way.

“Up?" Jack laughed, holding his hands out.

Eucalypt grunted and stepped up onto her toes, letting Jack gently slip his hands under her rump and lift her, sliding her long legs on either side of his upper hips, Eucalypt gripping him tight around the neck, her nose brushing against hers.

“Oof," Jack grunted, bending his knees slightly. “You're getting heavy my love..."

Eucalypt blinked, then grunted something, before she turned her head, looking at the warm, soft bed, then back at him, her eyes widening slightly before she licked his nose again. As he carefully lay himself and her down, mindful of the Joey in her pouch, he tenderly brushed his lips against her furred ones, gazing deeply into Eucalypt's eyes.

“I love you, more than you know – then again – you probably do know...don't you?" Jack's heartfelt breath fluttered the fine hairs on Eucalypt's pricked-up ears.

Eucalypt blinked twice before she grunted and licked his forehead in a long, affectionate swipe with her supple tongue.

“I love you too..." Jack murmured before he reached over and turned out the kerosene lamp on the bedside table.

Eucalypt didn't understand his words – but his touch and his love for her – told her more than words ever would. As he moved behind her, one arm under her back, the other resting on her flank, Eucalypt quivered and twisted her head almost 180 degrees, gazing back at him, an unmistakable look in her warm, soulful eyes.

Eucalypt may have mated with a wild, feral buck – but this buck – was her one true mate.

Eucalypt was assured of that...

END