FSE

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It is morning. The sun begins to peek above the mountains to the east, and slowly stretches out a warm hand over the slumbering land. The radiant beams lance out, painting whatever they touch brilliant shades of red and yellow. First the tops of the trees are tipped with gold, and the mesa rimmed in bronze, then the trunks and tents glow with their own reflected shades. The great glowing ball of fire has its own palette of glorious color, and is generous with its broad brushstrokes.

Maranai found Darom standing on the edge of the mesa, facing the rising sun. Maranai went to stand by his side. The sun's warmth unfolded all around them, enrapturing.

They said not a word. In the midst of such beauty, there is no need for words.

Gradually, Mulgore awakened. Life began to stir. Plants stretched out their leaves. Insects chirruped and buzzed. Animals looked out from their dens to greet the new day. Somewhere, an early bird let forth its melodious call.

A grin crept across Darom's face. "Morning has broken, like the first morning."

Maranai smiled back. "Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird."

They lingered on the clifftop for a bit, though the spell was broken. The sun comes every morning, yes, but who knows if you will be there?

Finally the two had soaked enough, and turned to each other.

"So, what brings you here to me?" rumbled Darom.

Maranai explained her quest, to which the warrior consented. The wise elder's suggestions were not to be taken lightly. Besides, it would be a great way to spend some time with the lovely, mysterious druid beside him.

Maranai made preparations, and gathered her herb satchel. Darom armored himself only lightly, as he did not expect any trouble in the nearby woods, and left his sword in his tent.

Maranai had traded her druidic robe for a simple tunic and tight-fitting breeches. Darom found the change of wardrobe agreeable, for it showed well the beauty of her form. She knew it, too, and tossed the warrior a saucy wink over her shoulder before setting off. Descending from the mesa, they had a lovely view of the plains before them. The forest looked verdant and inviting, though a wisp of smoke rose from the south. Darom dismissed it as the campfire of some early hunter.

They traipsed toward the shelter of the trees. They made small talk, discussing the weather, the local game, and the adorable new child in the tribe. As they came closer, Maranai's spirits rose even more, and soon she was bouncing along. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and Darom could only grin. Finally they reached the tree line. Before them stood towering wooden sentinels, guarding verdant secrets unknown.

The two Tauren stood side by side, and their hands found each other.

Together they stepped into another world.

As Darom walked into the cool shadows of the trees, he felt a welcome breeze wash across his face. His nose took in the earthy smell of fallen leaves and the heady scent of flowers in bloom. His ears told him of countless little noises and sounds, pointing out the chirps of birds or the rustle of squirrels playing counterpoint to the wind softly sighing through leafy boughs. But most of all, his eyes saw.

Before him trees, hundreds of trees, stretched up to meet the sky. Trees were everywhere, trees of all kinds, large and small, old and new, twisted and straight, dark and light. Majestic oaks carried leafy crowns, and slender saplings sprung up between them. Birch and maple and holly, all sorts of trees Darom could only guess at, and many more he couldn't. They grew together, wide leaves branching out to form a thick canopy. Gaps in the verdant sea poured forth molten light in patches.

In the shelter of the trees, life thrived.

Darom turned to look at Marani. She smiled hesitantly at him. Darom looked back at the living glory all around him. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and a smile of wonder crept across his face. Seeing this, Maranai beamed radiantly, her face alight with joy. This was her place, her sanctuary, her home. Here in this pure natural world, she felt most comfortable. And here, as a druid, she learned of its mysteries and its power. She had taken a chance in bringing him here, in sharing with him the joy of her heart, for fear that where she saw life's beauty, he would see only green stuff. But no, he saw it. Though untrained, he too could see the heart of the woods, beating mysteriously as life flowed through everything in the forest, wrapping it all up in its own web, its own ecosystem of balance and glory.

They walked in a peaceful silence through the sun-dappled shadows. The woods closed behind them like a gentle embrace. Looking back, Darom could barely make out the outline of the mesa through the trees, though they had left it a short while ago. Around them, life bustled. Leaves rustled. Bright-winged avians darted from tree to tree, letting out ululating chirps and melodies. Squirrels and other small mammals scurried to and fro, collecting seeds or nuts and whisking them off to locales unknown. Insects buzzed contentedly around, colorful carapaces glittering. Hoots and calls echoed from deeper in the forest. Once or twice, Darom was fairly certain he even caught sight of a curious fox peeking out from the underbrush, watching them pass.

They came to a clearing where the ever-present trees parted to form a small circle of sun. Soft grass waved gently and, to one side, a small, clear stream flowed quietly. Maranai seemed to recognize this place, and dashed ahead to stand in the middle. Darom made as if to enter the clearing too, but she stopped him with an upraised hand. Maranai stood straight and stretched her arms upward, as if she, too were seeking the sun. She began to whisper strange liquid syllables that Darom couldn't quite make out, and the sunlight seemed to intensify until the clearing was bathed in a warm golden glow. Darom felt a tingle run across his skin, and knew that he, too, was affected. Maranai continued to soak and whisper prayers. Darom was struck again by her sheer beauty. Taut with effort, concentrating, almost in rapture, the young woman was stunning. After what seemed like an eternity, but was only a short while, Maranai let her arms fall to her sides and relaxed.

"The Earth Mother has given us her blessing," she stated.

Darom could only nod.

Maranai shifted, and Darom noted a mischievous glint in her eyes. She took him by the hand.

"Come."

Darom could only follow.

They spent the next few hours exploring the forest together. The herbs were quickly gathered up, and the rest of the time spent in innocent fun. They taught each another along the way. Maranai showed him some of the secrets of the forest. She taught him how to obtain honey without stirring up the hive, how to identify various plants and flowers. She showed him great sights, such as a once-great towering oak, that, now fallen, formed an ecosystem on its own. Darom, in his turn, showed her what he knew of woodcraft, how to cover the marks of one's passage, how to sneak up on a wary deer unsuspected. He taught her also the basics of self-defense. They mock-sparred with "staves" made of fallen saplings, and laughed uproariously when one managed to trip up the other. They walked this verdant wonderland in a companionable peace, never thinking but of the joy of the moment in the woods.

**********

They came to another clearing, this one smaller than before. The trees overhead blocked out nearly all of the light, and shadows slunk in on padded feet. Darom suddenly felt hemmed in, the dark outlines of trees standing forebodingly. The cloying scent of rotting vegetation hung thick in his nostrils and seemed to muffle sound. He turned to comment to Maranai, but she had vanished from sight. A chill snaked down his spine, but he remained calm. He called her name, but no response came to him. Darom went on alert. He tensed and stood warily, wishing for his trusty sword.

A low growl slashed through the silence, and he whirled. Yellow eyes glared out from a patch of deep shadow, and Darom thought he saw the glint of bared fangs. They stared at each other in a tense standoff, each waiting for the other to make a move. Behind him Darom heard a rustle of leaves and a whoosh, and knew in an instant he had been deceived. He knew he could not possibly defend himself in time from this unexpected threat, likely another of the pack leaping at his exposed back. He turned anyways, and tried to bring an arm up. He saw a great hunting cat flying through the air, straight towards him, toothy maw open hungrily. Darom knew he was in trouble. In the instant of frozen time before the impact, he noticed something strange, but by then it was too late. Some part of him wondered at it even as the rest of him watched his approaching death. The creature's claws were still sheathed.

And then it hit him, literally. The air whooshed out of him as the cat crashed into him, and Darom fell heavily onto the ground. He tried to push the creature off, but it batted his arms aside and pinned him. It reared up, poised to strike at his unprotected throat, and Darom knew he was doomed.

The hunting cat pounced.

And licked his face repeatedly. Darom lay there, stunned, as the cat's long broad tongue continued to assault him. Darom couldn't fathom it. Was it simply tasting before it ate him? The cat let out some short barks, and Darom got the distinct impression it was laughing at him. He took a closer look and noticed, for the first time, a pair of delicate-looking horns he was fairly certain he recognized, as well as some familiar tribal markings. Darom sighed and mentally placed his face in his palm. He seized the cat by the horns, wrestled her off of him and flipped their positions. By now, the cat's tongue was lolling in mirth as she continued to find humor in the situation. Darom tried to growl menacingly, but the sudden release of tension and the comic appearance of the mischievous druid were too much, and he threw back his head and let out a great laugh. Curious, he looked where he had seen the first cat and saw only a pair of yellow lightseeds. When he looked down again, Maranai the woman looked up at him once more. They took one look at each other, and dissolved again in laughter and giggles. In his great relief, Darom forgave Maranai her little trick. She read his forgiveness in his eyes, and smiled up at him.

Taken by a sudden impulse, he bent his head and kissed her fiercely. Her lips were soft and inviting. She squeaked a bit and stiffened in surprise, but then she relaxed into the kiss. Her arms wound their way around his neck and held fast. Darom became excruciatingly aware of the warm body beneath him, all round curves and soft skin. He deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth over hers hotly. His beard tickled her chin, his lips hard and demanding. Maranai shuddered and shifted, realizing the latent power in the huge frame above her. She slipped a hand free and ran her fingers lightly over the expanse of his muscular chest, marveling at the interplay of his muscles and the hard lines of his body. The man was in top shape, and it showed. The arms supporting his weight on either side of her stood like rigid pillars, caging her in. Not that she wanted to escape. He held his strength in reserve, afraid to harm her. Her hand skimmed lower, over the taut muscle of his stomach, and she felt him tense. Her fingers played over the waistband of his breeches and teased lower, to the growing bulge trapped. Her eyes widened as his length continued to grow. He was well equipped indeed!

Darom shifted his weight and snatched her hand away. He broke the kiss and dragged his lips down her jawline to her throat, where her pulse pounded. She gasped and buried her fingers in his mane. He drank in her scent, her dark hair, her heavy breaths. She smelled good. Darom was reminded of the earth and of delectable berries and of a certain spice he couldn't quite identify. Her lustrous hair flowed freely around her shoulders. Darom slid his free hand down her side, wondering at her smooth lines and luscious curves. He lightly outlined the curve of her generous breasts, and downward, to her soft stomach and wide hips. Maranai arched her back at his hot touch.

With an effort of will, Darom tore himself away and looked down at the woman below him, a challenge and a question in his eyes. They were both panting, though the air was cool and crisp against their skin. In the primal forest, the beast did not lurk far beneath the surface. She was incredibly attractive, and her sly smile told him she knew it. She looked out at him from lowered lids and slowly licked her lips. No one was around......no one would know....the time was right....and....and....

And a loud crash echoed through the forest. The leaves shook with the impact, and birds exploded into the sky from the brush around them. Darom sprung up and swung his head around, trying to identify the sound.

"What was that?" asked Maranai, a tinge of fear in her voice.

Darom couldn't answer. Yet something niggled at the back of his mind. Something was wrong here.

Another crash ripped through the forest, far too close for comfort. Low grunts reached Darom's ears from the forest. Finally his fogged mind cleared, and things started to click into place. The smoke from earlier! The crashes were the unmistakable sounds of trees being felled. Yet the only ones who struck down trees without thought or care were....

The Quillboar.

Darom growled low in his throat, and took up a nearby dead branch, ready to defend his home and his woman. He did not stop to think about when Maranai and her forest became his. No spiny, overgrown cactus-eater was going to defile his ancestral lands! Rage filled his blood, and he wanted nothing more but to go smash some pig-snouted faces, but he kept himself in check. More thoughts clicked, and alarm spread. What were the Quillboar doing this far north? It could not bode well. The tribe had to be warned!

A wayward spore found its way into Darom's nostrils, and he sneezed. A split-second later, a barbed arrow whizzed through the space where his head had been. Darom swung his head around to track the archer, and caught only a glimpse of spines and garishly painted feathers as the thing fled. His suspicions confirmed, he turned to Maranai. He picked her up and looked intently at her.

"You must warn the tribe. Run back to the mesa. I will hold them off."

Maranai was still in shock, but she firmed her jaw and stood resolutely.

"I will stay and aid you. Together we can defeat them."

But Darom would brook no compromise. He had just found her, and could not bear the thought of losing her. He raised himself to his full height and towered over her. Maranai could not read his eyes, as hard as flint.

"No. You must go. I cannot protect you here, and I would only slow you down."

"B-But.."

"GO!" he shouted, and gently pushed her out of the clearing. She stumbled away, tears forming in her chocolate brown eyes.

Darom took up his branch and set himself. The scout would bring reinforcements. He hefted the branch. It was solid ironwood, and would serve him well. Sure enough, he soon saw movement in the trees, Quillboar advancing with all the stealth of a kodo in heat. Darom snorted. He took a deep breath, and bellowed out a challenge that shook the trees.

Maranai, some distance away, looked back at her beloved warrior. He stood grimly in the center of the clearing, branch at the ready. Her heart went out to him. He turned and saw her looking.

"RUN!!" he roared.

Sobbing, she could only obey.

She ran. She ran for her life. She ran for his life. She ran for the life of the forest and of the tribe. She ran as fast as she could, breath coming in ragged gasps and chest heaving. Her legs ached, her feet throbbed, and her soul cried out, but still she ran. She ran under boughs and over roots, around bushes and through gullies. She had explored the forest freely as a child, and she summoned every ounce of knowledge, of woodcraft, of guile she could bring to bear. She dared not look back, lest she see her pursuers, or worse, lest she see her love fall. She didn't know how long she ran; only that she had to keep moving. Pounding on through the woods, she saw what she desperately hoped was the outline of the mesa appearing through the trees, and her heart leapt. She ducked a branch that narrowly missed clocking her and stumbled out of the forest.

The Quillboar closed in. Darom greeted them with a cold grin. They encircled the clearing, snorting and snuffling, calling out jests in their strange guttural tongue. Darom let them, giving them only his granite-faced visage to study, until they had surrounded him in a ring of spines and steel. Darom gripped his branch tightly. It seemed to meld itself to his hand, and he knew it would not slip. Darom gathered himself, his calm, and found his center. He waited.

The Quillboar did not disappoint. As Darom had expected, the first attack came from behind. A vicious little beast with a disfiguring snarl leapt forward and attempted to bury his rusted blade in Darom's side.

Darom turned, swung his branch in a great arc, and struck the little fiend such a mighty blow it actually left the ground and flew off into the woods, screaming.

The remaining Quillboar watched their hapless comrade fly by with various expressions on their faces.

Darom grinned. He had struck first, and struck well. The Quillboar had come expecting a single, scared Tauren.

They had not expected a warrior.

His assailants still stood stunned, and Darom dared to let himself hope they would break and run.

Then one nasty-faced pig sneered at him, and he knew he was in for a fight.

Emboldened by their numbers, the spiny beasts pressed the attack. Darom crushed the first few who came into his range, and then they were upon him.

The clearing exploded in a flurry of motion. Thorns and daggers pricked Darom, who did his best to duck and dodge, but there were too many. A leaping Quillboar crashed into his back and tried to garrote him. Darom reached back, and heedless of the spiny quills, plucked the screeching creature from his shoulders and launched him into his fellows. Darom swung his impromptu mace in great arcs, obliterating any unfortunate enough to be in the way. He smashed one after another, but for every one he dispatched, he received two new wounds. He felt himself weakening. He knew he had to do something, something to fight the inevitable outcome.

Summoning his remaining strength, he let forth a great bellow and brought his branch down upon the ground with all his might. The impact shuddered through the clearing, and his attackers were left stunned. Darom heaved a ragged breath, and began to whirl his mace around him, holding back the tide. Darom picked up speed and was transformed into a whirlwind of muscle and pain. The mace whistled around the clearing, smashing indiscriminately through branches and Quillboar alike. His world narrowed to a bloodshot tunnel filled with snarling faces and glinting steel. He lost all semblance of calm or control, and the beast roared.

The Quillboar could not stop it, could not survive it. They broke and ran in the face of the howling demon they had angered. Those too slow or too foolish became intimately acquainted with the business end of the wood.

When finally no enemy remained to be smashed, when at last no one dare oppose him, the beast slowed. Darom staggered under the weight of his many injuries. His limbs were molten blocks of lead, and his chest rose and fell irregularly. He collapsed against a nearby rock and lay panting.

He looked up at the sky, and thought of Maranai.

**********