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The Highlands of Scotland had long been reputed to be harsh to man and beast alike. The rocky terrain and steep mountains made for dangerous footing while the ever present roll of fog and rain lashed the earth creating thick bogs and swamp like conditions. The few who chose to remain there were a tough lot that had been tested by the elements until they had been beaten and forged from the impurities and softness of those who dwelled within the lowlands. From the start they carved out their territories through war and small battles that amounted to little more than raids sanctioned by their own feelings of entitlement. Early on, the lesser species of mice, rabbits, weasels and polecats were banished away from the heights by some of the larger and more aggressive species. Of the herbivores, only the great red deer and the horses fought well enough to make keeps of their own, but it was the predators that truly populated the place.

Off the glittering edge of a lake that was cupped within the mountains like an oasis, one such keep had been bought dearly with blood and gold. The stone work had turned moss eaten and green with age, but it was well tended by those that kept it. It was the home of Lord Arton, a wolf hound who was descended from a line of hounds renowned for their ferocity in battle. His ancestors had single-handedly driven the wolves from the lands surrounding the keep and closed it off to them. The Lord was a proud hound with a beard of thickly curled fur along the underside of his jaw and just along the edge of his dark lips. His household was made up of a mix of his poorest relatives in exchange for shelter, food and some small amount of payment. The rest were hired hands that he carefully chose from stags, horses, and the smaller hounds that he could easily dominate. The only creature within the Keep that he could not dominate was a willful pup with more spark and fire than sense.

In Arton's twentieth year he had found himself enchanted with one of his distant cousins. She was a fine sweet lady whose willow frame and soft spoken voice charmed him. He had allowed himself to fall in love with her dark eyes and when the priest hesitantly pointed out the relationship, he had a ready excuse at hand. It had long been custom to overlook the relationships with a lover as long as it was a close enough one, so they had married. It was a short happy period in the Lord's life as his attractive bride had been as beguiled and enchanted with him as he was with her. He denied her nothing. The news of her pregnancy had come as a shock and welcome surprise to the residents of the keep and the couple had anticipated the longed-for children as much as the lowest peasant. Arton's mind was filled with images of strong young sons to take after him, but his vision was not to be.

The day after Flinne had been born, her mother had died along with her single litter mate. It had been a winter that had hounded the keep and prevented the healer from arriving to help with the birth. The priest had done his best but the toll of childbirth, the cold weather and her torn body had not been able to withstand the night long labor. He was left alone in halls that had once rung with laughter and life; alone save for a small infant who he had little idea on how to raise. She had started life unsteadily under her father's guiding paw which more often than not ended up in her being treated as an extension of him rather than a true individual. From her earliest days she had been willful. The spirit of the highlands was alive and well in her sharp words and quick wit. The only one in the keep that could control her found himself at a loss as she grew from an unsteady pup to a young teen.

Arton might have found a way to guide her still if she hadn't reminded him so forcefully of her mother. When she was quiet or still he saw the lithe grace that he had once adored in his cousin, yet it only took movement to shatter the illusion. The beauty that she was growing into was wrapped around an iron will and stubbornness that she could only have inherited from her father. Things started to reach a head in her thirteenth year as spring started to flourish and chase away the last of the snow. The winter had been harsh and several of his hirelings had either deserted them or been lost in one of the quick brutal storms that the mountains had become known for. The Lord had grudgingly realized he would be forced to go with his men to the lowlands to hire replacements as well as purchase grain for the few crops they could grow. He had believed the priest could contain his willful daughter for a few weeks; when he returned he found out just how wrong he had been.

"Nay daughter o' moine will be wearin' any such thing!" He bellowed down at Flinne the moment he had entered the castle.

She wore nothing that even resembled clothing of a young lady. Instead, her body was wrapped in fine wool that had once been her skirt but that she had butchered to make a pair of pants. They hugged against her legs and were tattered around the edges with stains showing where she had been wandering out along the Highlands alone. Her shirt was one of his older ones that she had dug out of his closet. It was loose, but it fit well enough to suit her. The spring air was sharp and sweet in her nose; it beckoned to her as sweetly as a siren to flee the bonds of the darkened castle and find her way into the light. However, she found her outing barricaded by the large, imposing form of her father whose wrath seemed to make him even larger than normal. Instead of cowing to him as others had, she tilted her head up and set her expression stubbornly.

"An' what do ye think Ah'll be wearin'? Ah'm no leetle pup tae be dressed up in lace an' such, Pater." Her accent matched his own in thickness, the inflections hard as they rolled off her tongue.

"Ye'll wear what Ah tell ye tae wear, Flinne!" He curled his lips back to flash the white of his teeth. "Ah'm not going tae be embarrassed by this!"

"Ah will not! Ah'm no lowland maid tae be hidden away, Ah'm going tae be takin' over after ye an' Ah should know the land!" She set her paws on her hips. Despite her snapping words her long, whip-like tail wagged slowly back and forth. It was no secret that she enjoyed tweaking her father's beard when she had the chance and today he was in a fine fettle.

"No. Yer mah daughter, an' ye'll act like it!" The larger hound reached out and gripped her ear firmly between his finger and thumb to drag her back. "If ye can't act like a lady, tae the stable wit' ye!"

The pup let out a yelp and then snarl of anger at the hold on her ear and moved her hands up to wrap around her father's wrist. Most of the Keep was well aware of the arguments that passed between father and daughter, but the servants and guards continued on their day with their eyes turned away. They didn't pay attention to the snarling youngster or the glowering father as she hauled her out towards the stables. The youngster didn't show the dignity or the refinement of a Lady of the blood. Instead, she showed the sharp spirit that any peasant child might have. Her father towered over her before she was given a final tug of the ear and pushed into the stable. The moment she stumbled into it, her nose wrinkled up at the sharp scents of hay and horse on the air. Leather and sweat also reached her keen muzzle until she tried to sneeze it back out again. Her angry glittering eyes looked up at the adult hound who turned his back and strode away without another word.

"Ye'd think ye'd know when tae stand doon, pup." The voice was harsh and grating as she tilted her head back to see a mutt of a dog leaning against a shovel. "Then again, iff ye did Ah'd not get a day off. Ye know what tae do. See that it's done well an' Ah'll not be turnin' ye in."

"Ah'm not gonnae give 'em the pleasure o' beatin' me." Flinne's voice came out sharp as she caught the shovel that was tossed towards her. The only response came in the soft laughter of the mottled brown and white groom as he walked out with a bounce to his step.

It wasn't the first time she'd found herself trapped into doing hard work in the stables. She didn't shirk from her duties. Instead, she cleverly found swifter ways of making sure that she could complete her work. Even with her own tricks she was exhausted by the end, a state her father would be pleased with, and dirty with sweat and the dust that had come up from working with the hay. She briefly considered going back to the keep and up to her room where she could soak in cool water as long as she was willing to keep her head down as if she had been punished. The idea of that grated against her rambunctious heart. Instead she climbed up into the highest point of the hay loft where the roof hung down low and the only light that filtered in came from the open portions in the floor that stable hands used to throw hay down. It was peaceful, slightly cool and relaxing as she stretched out in the softness of the hay.

Flinne allowed herself to stretch out and half dose so that she could drift into day dreams of things that might have been or could be. She fled into wild images of the Highlands and hidden places. She dreamt of thick fogs and legends of creatures that reputably hid in far away places. Her dream twisted and turned around until it seemed more real than the pace and boredom of the real world. Here she was a warrior, explorer and defender of her land despite her gentle gender. Had she only been born male she would have flourished in her life, but her sex left her sheltered and carefully caged in the Keep. Only in her dreams was she allowed to taste freedom. Her dreams, though, were interrupted by the sound of soft voices and laughter in the stall beneath her. She came awake with a start and readied herself to hear the booming call of her father demanding that she return to her room or to dinner.

The pup barely even allowed herself to breath as she heard the thud of a door and feminine giggles erupt from beneath her. The voice that answered was of lighter pitch then her father's and they certainly didn't seem to be bent on finding her. She inched ever so slowly towards the small portion of the floor that was cut away so that hay and straw could be tossed down. She was rewarded with the sight of movement and color as a winsome young Lady from her Father's keep. She knew Mera from the elegant curve of her muzzle and the rich silk that spilled over her form, yet she didn't know the Mera that looked rumpled and out of breath. Behind her, a young lad she knew well grinned and kicked the door of the stall closed. William, the bard and jester, had a smile on his face and a knowing gleam in his eyes as he tugged Mera in close and ran his long tongue along the curve of her neck.

The sight made Flinne's heart speed up as Mera neither protested nor tried to pull away from his touch. The familiar wandering of her paws seemed to hint that neither was a stranger to the other. She had seen many of those in the Keep wander off to much laughing and knowing leers of the guard, but this was the first she'd seen anything past a decorous kiss. William's paws traced along the silks and his head delved down to nuzzle the spread cleavage until she heard the soft gasp coming from the lady's throat. It seemed as if neither cared that they were in a stall as clothes were pulled away and stripped off. Her eyes briefly considered Mera's naked form first. She was heavier of breast and broader of hips then Flinne's own slight form. Her color was a pale cream that lightened to pink at the tips of her nipples and the bare of her folds.

William, however, made her freeze and her lips part slightly as his pants were slowly peeled away. He had always been handsome. He was a smooth coated hare with long aristocratic ears and the lean grace of a dancer rather than the bulk of a warrior.. His spade shaped tail curved along the expanse of his curved haunches, but what made her freeze was his loins. She drew in a sharp breath as she received her first full glimpse of a male's shaft. It was tapered and smooth at the tip, but rapidly thickened as it reached the base where a roll of fur hinted at a sheath. The balls were heavy and swollen, but weren't furred like the rest of him. The pale brown-grey color changed towards black here. Flinne's nostrils quivered as she drew in another breath and tasted thick male musk upon the air mingled with that of Mera's arousal. It was a potent combination that seemed to directly connect with the mixture of feelings pounding through her.

The young wolfhound was locked in voyeuristic fascination as William leaned Lady Mera against the edge of the feeding trough. His blunt claws drug along her outer thighs before he pushed her to sit against the hard wood and his lips trailed down between her thighs. The soft outer folds gleamed wetly in the light even before the tongue brushed over them. The Lady's moan came out immediately as she watched the muzzle nestle between the thighs as the pink tongue flashed each time it pushed in before drawing out again. One of William's hands trailed down so that Flinne had to shift her position to see it sliding between the thighs and brushing between the folds. Her movement made her aware that her heart was pounding and she could not only hear it pulsing in her ears, but feel it in a new place all together. The sound of Mera's cry and the finger sinking into her made the hound clench her legs together so that her inner thighs put pressure on her own virginal sex.

Nothing in her life had prepared her for the erotic feast she witnessed below. She was as much enraptured by the heaving breasts with their hardened nipples as she was with the hardened spire that let out thick drops of precum. William's muzzle worked and pushed between Mera's thighs attentively until one of her hands moved to hold behind his head and her hips rocked upwards. The finger slid slowly in and out so that the softness of the folds seemed to cling around the digit before being pushed back in. Without truly thinking about it, Flinne's hand slid down her body and then upwards between her legs to touch her own pants covered mound. She almost gave herself away completely with a cry at the shock of sensation her fingers caused grazing over her rousing body, but managed to stifle it. She brushed her fingers over again as a tremor trailed down her spine under her seeking out. Was this what the maids sought after so eagerly? The knowing grins of the guards?

Mera made the noises below that Flinne didn't dare give voice too. Breathy whimpers and muffled moans reached her ears as she let her fingers rub back and forth over her covered mons. She could feel the plump lips pushed firmly against the material of her pants while she rolled her hips forward and drew back. Her eyes never closed despite the effort it took to keep them open. She watched as the hare's head moved away and his tongue licked over his lips before he kissed his way up her stomach. Her mind swirled with images of what his lips must feel like. She had nothing she could compare it to, but she could find out what her fingers might feel like. The half formed thought became action swiftly as she pulled her shirt from her pants and wiggled from them. One of her elbows hit against the hay covered ground roughly enough she froze with her pants just around her hips. The lovers below seemed to take little notice of the noises above them as she watched William slide his fingers free of the Lady.

It took some contortion to get her legs free of the pants, but as soon as they were off she became aware of the nose prickling tang of her own need. It blended and mingled richly with the male and female scents below until she felt intoxicated by them. Nothing was forbidden in her fogged mind, nothing could be withheld or denied with that scent riding the air. She let her fingers slid along her thighs and felt a shock as they connected against her soft young sex. Her folds were damp under her fingers gentle touch. She traced the line of her folds hesitantly at first from the back towards the front as the wetness gathered against the pad of her finger. It wasn't until she reached the very apex that she put a gentle pressure that spread the lips open and brushed a swollen nub that sent a thrumming of pleasure through her body.

She drew in a shivering breath as she rolled her finger tip back and forth over that spot. Beneath her William had exchanged positions with Mera, but instead of her head going down he had pulled her long legs up to either side of her as he leaned back. His cock formed an arch in the air that glistened while the Lady's paw moved down to wrap around the base as she sat up higher. Flinne found herself staring at the full feminine folds with her breath catching in her throat. The lips were partially splayed showing the hard nub of the clit and the snug opening. Wetness glistened from it while the fingers drew William's shaft backwards. She worked her fingers around her clit harder and bit her lower lip as her hips automatically tried to raise up into her touch. Her form was afire with a strange new need that was starting in her lower stomach.

Flinne couldn't stop the soft whimper that spilled from her lips as she watched Mera lower herself and the tip spread her folds open. It was larger than William's finger had been and the outer lips strained open as it impossibly started to sink inwards. The Lady's back arched as she let out a full throated cry and her hips rocked downwards before raising up again pulling some of that thickness out. William pushed his own hips out as the pup watched inch by thick inch penetrating the lovely Mera and the way her body reacted to him. Her fingers brushed back and forth over her clit faster as she tried to find the movement that brought the most pleasure. Each pounding of her heart was something she felt all along her body as her folds seemed so swollen and sensitive it was almost painful. Even that keen mixture of pleasure and pain didn't put a halt to her movements. She was chasing after something unnamable with an intensity that frightened and intrigued her.

William's hands moved up so she could watch them cup the full breasts of the woman on his lap. His fingers curled and kneaded them while her head tossed back and gave voice to a cry that made Flinne's hips buck upwards again. The pup parted her lips and started to pant shallowly as her fingers trailed down until she curled one inwards and felt it starting to spread her virgin folds. Her toes curled themselves and she let out a breathy whine as inch by inch her forefinger penetrated herself as she watched the full hips dropping down onto the hare's. She could hear the sound of flesh slapping against flesh as the heavy orbs clapped up against the curved rump cheeks before pulling back again. The deeper moan's of the lad came faster as his head lifted up to capture one of Mera's hard nipples between his lips and gave it a hot swift pull.

The young hound found herself lost in new sensations. It was as if electricity was sparking through her body and running down her spine. She moved her finger hesitantly in and out of her passage at first, but the first movement pulled it over a spot that made her flatten her ears and briefly close her eyes. It was clumsy at first, no where near as sure and confident as William had been with Mera, but she let her own sensations guide her. She could feel the wetness clinging around her digit as she pushed it in and moved it out. Her eyes locked on the pair of rapidly moving hips avidly. Her mind snatched at the movements to weave a fantasy of William being the one plunging into her body instead of her finger. She whimpered and slowly edged a second finger into herself to try and feel what it would be like to be spread so wide.

Her other paw reached down and hesitantly rubbed her covered breast as she rolled onto her side. Her muzzle peeped over the edge of the opening into the stall, but the rest of her was concerned with other things. Her breast barely fit in her paw, but as she gave a gentle squeeze she felt her nipple hardening against the palm of her hand. The combination of sensation in feeling her paw against her palm and her fingers steady movements sent her over the edge of an abyss she hadn't realized she could enter. Her body seized up until her jaws locked together when a sudden electric heat went over her. She had to stop moving her finger as her walls clamped down and started to pulse around her digits and she let out a breathy cry from between clenched teeth. She could only hope that it blended in with the frantic noises beneath her.

Everything felt as if it were afire as she rocked her hips up and pleasure rolled every worry from her mind. Nothing but this sensation mattered, nothing could compare to the pounding of her heart and the rush of intense relief. She closed her eyes to concentrate on nothing more than what she was experiencing at her peak. For a moment she could only savor the feel as the fingers inside of her grew slicker while she tried to move them. The dizzying orgasm didn't so much as stop as taper off into smaller aftershocks as she slowly opened her eyes to the sounds below her that were reaching a crescendo. Her tongue lolled out from her muzzle as she trembled all over and slowly pulled her fingers from her body so that she felt another tremor of pleasure trail down her spine. She felt satisfied, tired and light headed, yet she also felt hungry to chase after that sensation again.

A noise from below reminded Flinne of the cause of her exploration and she peered down to see Mera leaned over William's body and her hands gripping his shoulders. Her hips were moving so fast they were almost blurring while he lifted up to meet her. She expected to see his eyes closed and expression as lost as the Lady's was, instead she found his intense brown eyes staring straight up at her. His hips moved faster as he watched her watching them. He made no move to call out a warning or stop, instead she had the strange feeling he was flaunting his conquest for her to watch. The pup's ears flushed a deep red, but she didn't avert her eyes. The challenge in the minstrels demanded she meet it with his own and she wasn't going to show that she was ashamed of herself. She could admit a good portion of her bravado was the languid sense of well being that was leaving her limp and satisfied.

The staring contest only lasted a few heart beats before the hare's eyes closed and he lunged his hips up before letting out a ragged cry. Freed of his gaze she let her eyes travel downwards to see his balls tightening up against his body before Mera let out a similar sound. From her lofty heights of the hay loft she saw the woman go through the same tension and shuddering that she herself had just experienced. The flash of red cock flesh pulsed and she frowned to herself, what would it feel like? What did it feel like for Mera? The pair locked together in a coital embrace of sweat gleaming fur and quivering loins before William relaxed with a groan and Mera collapsed over his body panting heavily. One of his hands moved to cup against her rump cheeks to hold her in close to him before his eyes parted again to stare up at her.

There was no mistaking the smugness in his glance, the heat of his eyes as he searched her features. Did he only know that she had watched? Or had he been staring at her while her face contorted and twisted through her face orgasm? Had he in some way shared that young passion and rewarded her with allowing her to see the last of his enjoyment? She swallowed and stared right back until he let out a hiss and slowly guided Mera's hips up. She lost sight of his eyes as she watched inch by inch of softening flesh slide from the tight passage. When the tip pulled free it held a thin strand of semen that joined him to her folds for a moment before it parted and he flopped free back onto his chest. She glanced up to see him wink suggestively before flattening her ears and backing away from the opening she was peeping through.

Flinne returned to the Keep that night with her mind aflutter and her body thrumming with new knowledge. She managed to act meek to her Father as he asked her if she had learned her lesson. She told him she had thoroughly learned her lesson. An added spice to that conversation had been a newly dressed William nodding his head thoughtfully in agreement. She almost imagined she could still smell the thick sharp musk of his arousal on the air as he grinned at her from behind her father. It wasn't until she slipped into bed that night that she found the small cream colored paper tucked beneath her pillow. She frowned and stifled the urge to growl. If William was trying to buy his favor into the Keep by blackmail she'd throw him to wild Highlands to take care of. To her surprise the elegant script said nothing of the source.

"All young girls one day become ladies. I'm pleased you enjoyed your first lesson in becoming one, but watching will only bring you so far. I would be most honored if you would allow a humble minstrel and his friend to guide you on your way to becoming just that. The window is unlatched, we'll be waiting for you. -W"

They were the only words that needed to be written. There were no directions to where she should go or where he would wait for her. He didn't tell her to send a note if she agreed or give him a signal. There was only the calm assumption that she would indeed go to him and whoever his friend was. She licked her lips that suddenly felt dry. The offer couldn't have been more clear. She had the chance to learn exactly what Mera had experienced. She didn't bother slipping into her bed clothes as she tested the window latch and spread it open to the chill air. What need was there in directions? She could see the light in the stall glittering in the darkness. The stall she had spied upon earlier that day. This time, however, she would not indulge herself in simply watching. With her heart pounding and her body feeling flushed with excitement she took her first step on the window ledge. Who could resist such a tempting offer?

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