Chapter 14 - Beyond the Distant Shore
#14 of A Distant Shore
The following is a work of fiction, copyright Radical Gopher. It may not be duplicated in whole or in part without the author's express permission. This story contains adult situations and or violence and cannot be read by anyone under the age of 18. No character depicted in this story is under the age of 18.
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A DISTANT SHORE - BEYOND THE DISTANT SHORE
It was a cool, autumn evening and the last rays of the western sun were slowly vanishing into the distant horizon. The serenity the Marshall felt was almost a physical thing.. This was becoming Gabe's favorite time of day, sitting on a boulder in front of his native built long house, sipping the last drops from a cup of coffee and smoking his native pipe.
Seven years had passed, flowing along much like the Great River itself, always the same, yet never the same. Many things had changed along the Western shore save one. The union between the tribes still held, as had the peace between the natives and the civilized furs of the Eastern shore. Most credited this to Marshall White Cloud, though the wolf would be the first to deny it. Gabe always insisted that the peace held because good furs on both sides of the river wanted it to hold
Following Collier's Expedition, the tribal leaders had met and decided that while civilized furs would still not be allowed to settle on the Western shore, save with rare exception, there was wisdom in allowing some contact and trade between the two peoples. Based on White Cloud's recommendation, they established a formal trading company and outpost on their side of the river. It was jointly owned by the tribal union which shared equally in its profits and was managed, quite ably, by Joshua Evans and his five native wives.
The trading post, now called Wyvern's Bluff, sat on a cliff about a hundred feet above the river bank. A series of tiny, natural caves along the cliff face was home to a small colony of the diminutive, dragon-like creatures. Where they had come from, no one knew, though many suspected that Snowbird with her empathy for nature was somehow responsible.
Sounds of laughter came from across the way and Gabe's eyes wandered casually across the compound to Evan's own long house. The former militia lieutenant was out in front, laughing and playing lacrosse with three of his children and two of his wives. Two others stood to one side, nursing their cubs while the eldest worked at her weaving. Since his adoption by the Chimney Rock tribe, the fennec had gone almost as completely native as a civilized fur could without surrendering his past.
Gabe's own two sons, Black Raven and Temple Collier sat reading stories from a picture book that the Marshall had brought back recently from one of his occasional trips across the river. Black Raven was half-wolf and half-fox with fur as black as midnight. Temple, a badger-coyote mix had tan and brown fur. The Marshall had adopted him about five years earlier, shortly after his mother had died in prison. Being so close in age, the two boys were as much brothers as they were friends.
Gabe finished his pipe then broke off a small twig from a nearby bush and used it to carefully scrape out the bowl. Then he tapped the pipe against the boulder to shake loose any remaining tobacco. As he finished a soft, white-furred hand settled itself on his shoulder. He looked up at his wife and smiled, noticing immediately that she was not wearing her dancer's mask.
"Is it time?" he asked, looking into both her eyes, one blue as ice and the other red as fire. She nodded, silently taking his hand. He leaned over and kissed her then stood. She led him down the gently sloping trail that went from the top of the bluff to the river's edge and along a quiet inlet. Riverboats occasionally landed here in order to exchange goods with the trading post.
Gabe noticed a native canoe beached at the landing. He recognized it as belonging to one of his Scouts, Running Bear of the White Claw. He was probably camped out somewhere nearby and would make a report sometime in the morning. This was yet another change to life on the Western shore. Following Collier's Expedition, the tribes had formed their own band of fifteen Hunter-Scouts to help keep the peace and strengthen the bonds that brought them together. Naturally, Marshall White Cloud had been named War Chief of this native "police:" force. Gabe chuckled at the thought. Civilization, whether they knew it or not, was subtly working its way into tribal life.
White Cloud and Snowbird walked along the river, hand in hand until they reached a secluded cove. Once there, the two furs began to slowly undress each other, carefully laying their belonging out on a pair of nearby rocks.
Snowbird removed a small, sealed earthen jar from the pouch she had carried. She opened it and dipped a finger into the blue dye within, then applied it to Gabe, scribing symbols of virility and potency across his back, thighs and chest. Following her directions, the Marshall did the same for Snowbird, ending with the symbol of the river spirits painted on her abdomen and a wavy arrow that pointed toward her sex.
Walking up to the water's edge, Snowbird knelt and began rubbing her hands together while chanting verses from an ancient, native language. She reached out and touched the surface of the water, which glowed briefly. Standing, she took Gabe by the hand and led him into the water until they were chest deep. It did not surprise the wolf at all that the water was now comfortably warm, despite the slight chill in the autumn night air.
They kissed, tongues intertwining as they gently explored each other's bodies. Seven years of married life meant they each knew how to pleasure the other and it wasn't long before they were both fully aroused. Gabe sensuously unbraided Snowbird's hair, allowing it to fan out behind her in the water. She in turn used her claws to gently knead at the wolf's back, massaging and ruffling his fur continuously.
Eventually they came together, the vixen lifting both her legs and wrapping them tightly around the Marshall's pelvis even as she slowly impaled herself on his shaft. She waited until she could feel his knot grow, then Snowbird thrust down, taking Gabe's full girth into herself. She gasped once in both pain and pleasure, then became quiet as she began massaging his length by contracting and relaxing her vaginal muscles. This obviated the need for either fur to thrust, so they remained perfectly still, standing in the water watching as the second night of the full moon passed over them.
Eventually the two furs silently climaxed together, breathing heavily but not disturbing the water around them in any way save for a strange, soft phosfuresent glow that seemed to suffuse the cove. The lovemaking did not end there. Gabriel White Cloud and Snowbird of the Chimney Rock tribe continued to make silent love throughout the night, each time causing the water around them and the symbols they wore to glow.
They finished as the first light of dawn began painting the eastern sky crimson. They walked back to their home carrying their clothes, naked save for their moccasins. The symbols they had painted on each other had completely vanished.
"Do you think it worked?" asked Gabe softly.
"Yes," the white vixen said, smiling. "I could feel the river spirit within you and within me at the last."
"Boy or girl?"
"She will be a beautiful daughter, strong as a wolf and graceful as a vixen. Wise as Father Rain, compassionate as you and more powerful than even I. She will know and give love, and will have two, strong brothers to guard and care for her until she finds her own soul mate... as have I." Snowbird chanted softly.
When they reached the long house, the wolf gently picked Snowbird up and carried her across the threshold, laying her on their furs before joining her in slumber. As he drifted off, Gabriel White Cloud marveled at the beauty of it all and said a silent prayer that such beauty would never leave the world.