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Snow. The soft crystals of ice began to fall from the heavens, the firmament above shrouded by thick grey clouds. Specks of frozen precipitation seemed to glow in bright contrast to the darkened skies above, twirling about as the winds drift caused them to flit about in a serene dance. For the sabertooth sitting high upon his stone perch, this was home, magnificently and beautiful. Looking across the vast expanse of mountains before him he felt quite at peace, bereft of any worry or care as his thoughts shunned these unpleasantries.

His lone place upon the mountain side was not for simple meditation, or out of the desire for solitude. It was a part of his duty, keeping guard of his tribes borders against the ever present threat of invasion. His species was in constant struggle with the dire wolves from the south, who were ever in pursuit to take the sabertooths lands which happened to be rich with natural resources, and abundant supply of food. Instead of sharing the land as had been offered by the sabertooths, the lupine's only wished to wrest control from them, consumed by their need for power and dominance. The sabertooths believed, that as their strength was show time again, the wolves would eventually withdraw their campaigns. Their home was easily defensible and the sabertooths rarely saw defeat in battle. It had been some time since the last attack, and all seemed safe for now, but they would not be fool hardy and betray themselves by lowering their guard.

Myre belonged to a tribe, who's territory controlled the vast southern edge of sabertooth's much larger domain, wedged between the center holds, and the dire wolves state. It was here most of the fighting took place, as any march to flank the sabertooths lands would exhaust the lupines greatly, leaving them travel weary and ill supplied when they were ready to attack. Myre's species was a breed of sabers much different from their kin dwelling upon the vast plains to the east. They had thicker coats to protect from the bone chilling cold, longer tails, and markings one would describe as broad hollow spots similar to a leopards. This was the likeness of Myer's coat held, rather than the traditional stripes worn by other saber breeds. Solid, unbroken pelts were also a fair norm, with a number of other accentual markings that varied between clans and families. Their way of life was simple and much harsher than the compared to their eastern kin. At an early age cubs were susceptible to the colds deadly embrace, the loss of a child not uncommon despite the measures taken to protect them. Even the mountains rugged terrain seemed to spite them as they traveled, perilous even in fair weather. Hidden away between the snow capped peaks dwelled a number of beasts that even the hardest of warriors grow wary. Still... it was a good life, fitting for Myre and he would have accepted it no differently.

In the darkness the sabertooth was only a silhouette against the night sky, leaving little to discern even with his lightened brown coat of fur. Myer's large hands held firm to a thick spear, fastened with a razor sharp blade of mammoths ivory lashed to the pronged tip. It was a weapon he had carried since reaching pubescence and had earned him his rights of passage wielding thus. His dress, naught but a simple loin cloth hung over a sturdy leather belt. Like most adults of his kind, he needed little else, even during the winter season. Looped to his belt Myre carried a sheath in which rested a large knife of flinted stone, useful when his spear was not a fit weapon.

It was true that his people were rather primitive compared to many other species, divided as tribal states and living quite simple lives. They endured in a world where politics had emerged, coming before family, clan and a tribes honour, a way unfamiliar to Myre. Many of the species advanced in what called technology, even finding ways to heat and mold metal, crafting them into wicked forms meant to hasten death. It was a fiendish plight upon the world, the first of these creations to been seen by the sabertooths being forged by the dire wolves deep within their hellish pits. Myre had witnessed what the wolves had done to the earth in their pursuit of power and conquest. While a part of a scouting party crossing over the vast expanses of forests mauled down to bare earth he realized the revolting deprivation of the lupines. It was discovered that tree's were used to feed the fires needed tomake the dire wolves weapons. It disgusted the saber that any race would go to such lengths in preparation for war, believing his teachings of a high respectf or nature and debt owed to it for his own survival.

However, Myre attempted not to dwell on the atrocities of his enemies as it would only spoil his good mood while upon the long rotations he spent guarding the reaches of his territory. It was the fourth night of his post, changes in the guard occurring every seven days. Being many miles from the village behind him, it was more convenient for the post to be re-manned after several days, rather than having the scouts trek the great distance every day. This was preferred by the sabertooth, who didn't mind the rest from the strenuous labor within the village. As it happened to be most days there was little sound to permeate the air save for the soft whispering of the wind, churning the atmosphere above.

Looking over the vast expanse before him Myre continued to gaze into the seeming black. Yet to him the night was as much alive in colour as it was during the day, his species being quite adept at seeing in the dark. His sharp, attuned eyes scanned the opposing mountainside, familiar with every detail laid before him as he had watched the motionless landscape many times before. Doing so once again Myre was drawn from his trance as he became aware of soft footsteps behind him, shortly followed by a familiar scent that forced small smile upon his lips. Turning to face the newcomer his lips were met with those of the other, soft hands clasping against his cheek and neck as a warm body pressed against his own, drawn into a tender embrace. The kiss lasted for several moments before it was broken, Myre looking into the silver eyes of his kin, who he knew quite well.

Standing before him was a female saberess covered in a coat of stark white fur, and spots of mottled grey and black. The absence of colour within her fur made the female glow in pearlescent vibrance as she was bathed in the moonlight that had begun to seep through the clouds. Propping his spear upon a nearby rock Myre stood, wrapping his arms around the female, embracing her tightly before his hold laxed, leaning away to speak to the female.

"Crisia! What are you doing here? Did something happen? I thought you were supposed to..." a pair of fingers firmly silenced his lips before he was drawn into another tender kiss calming his concern.

"Everything is fine, Myre. I'm sorry, I couldn't wait for you to come home! I missed you and decided I should travel to you..." Her smile faltered for a moment, softly clenched eyes seeking approval as the fear of disapproval to her unannounced appearance might follow. Myre was far from disappointed and pulled his lover close, melding their forms in attempt to stem her thoughts of any objection, simply enjoying the warmth of her body against his own. By comparison she was a fine example of a woman in form, lean muscle giving weight to her frame, accentuated by the supple, womanly curves that graced her body. It was no secret the love they shared, having professed their desires to be mated long before becoming of age. Inseparable during their youth their bonds grew with the years, and when not attending to their responsibilities they were found to be in close company.

"I'm glad you're here," the saber murred happily, "I missed you. Though I can't promise you any excitemeny upon the post..." he said softly, nuzzling the nape of her neck.

"Shhh," Crisia churred, "I'm with you. That's all I care about." Her arms clenched his waist, placing a fleeting kiss on his muzzle before releasing him. Lowering the satchel she had burdened she knelt and began removing its contents, "I brought some fresh food for you, I thought it the least I could do."

They set out to cook the meal, Myre collecting a faggot of sticks from along the treeline, he arranged the wood within the hallowed stone face lightning it where it would be shielded from unwanted eyes. He arranged the wood, building up the fire, idly conversing with Crisia about the going-ons of the village while she tended to the meat she had brought with her. A sweet, spicy aroma gave depth to the mixture of herbs and spices that were spread into the sinewy cut of meat. As expected all was well back home, as expected in his absence some of the other males had made attempts to woo the Saberess from him, seeking her hand in vain. Crisia was the daughter of the chieftain so it was not ucommon for others to darishly seek her hand. Even with the sabers blessings from her father and her commitment to Myre they pursued her. Both laughed about some of the foolish attempts the males had made and her responses to their advances in good humor while they attended their tasks. Ready, skewering the meat upon the spit Crisia he had made, she carefully set it over the fire which he tended. Joining Myre they sat against a smoothed boulder, in a light embrace. Hands slipping around his waist Crisia pressed herself firmly against him, resting her head upon his shoulder. "It's so nice out here, and quiet, I can see why you volunteer for this post." Crisia peered at her lover with a gleaming gaze as she spoke.

Nodding, giving a short dip of his muzzle he replied, "Aye." His hand caressed his love's waist pulling her to him, "Out here you almost feel... disconnected from the world. I almost forget this is a part of my duty to the tribe and that I am required to do it. It does pain me to say I enjoy some of the time I'm not with you." A soft chuckle escaped him, smirking under the dejected stare cast up at him.

A giggle softly escaped the saberess at his words digging her claws into his side, "That's not what you say when you return after these little trips, liar," she retorted in amusement. She pretended to be hurt before nuzzling his chest lovingly and kissing upon his sternum. A soft murr escaped Myre, who had been idly turning the meat upon the spit with his free hand, the meat glazing as the fire licked the present underside. The potent scent of the rub stained the air, fire hissing as juices leaked from the meat to splat across the burning branches. His nose twitched at the sharp tones pervading his senses an ear flicking lightly at the potent scent.

At first Myre payed the affectionate touches upon his body little mind but it was apparent the saberess had other intentions. Splaying her fingers she combed through the thickened fur upon his chest, kissing his pecs with tender caress. Lifting up the wirey fur she revealed his darkened nipple to her lips which suckled, and pursed over the nub, teasing the sensitive flesh. Tongue twirling sensually over the bud, expanding in radius of her tongues movement to include the small aureole lifting a sharp gasp from Myre murring roughly as she did this to the other nipple with her lips sweet caress as well.

Crisia teased her lover like this for a moment before kissing his chest, and stomach, a subtle suggestive intent building her before a leg swung over his thighs as she straddled his waist. With this new advantage her kisses rose, pressing against his neck and throat with the soft pressure of her fangs pressing into his chest. The lick were accompanied by gentle licks that matted his fur with moisture, the tip of her tongue flicking against his skin. Placing more vigor into her teasing, Crisia's hips began to gyrate in his lap, grinding her weight down on his sheath swelling with arousal. Myre had allowed his head to sag, falling back, but Crisia gripped his fangs before his head rested against the rock pulling his gaze to hers before her arms around his neck with a firm kiss to his muzzle.

Their lips played against one another as only familiar lovers would, rasping their tongues together, pushing an pulling in intricate trance. As one they angled the posture of their necks, twisting slightly and their fangs locked together,drawing their muzzles even closer allowing their long, broad tongues to explore the others maw unrestrained. Fangs clicking softly at their movements their kiss deepened Crisia's hands groped at his body, clenching fur and muscle, scraping his skin. Sliding the heels of her hands against his chest the saberess kneaded her hands into his form. To other races the expression of love by locking fangs was described as looking, painful as their teeth would strain against each other but for a race that had fought and hunted mammoths for centuries, doing so with only fang and claw it brought the pair no discomfort. The Sabertooths prominent fangs were capable of enduring a great amount of stress and could easily support their entire weight if needed.

As they kissed Myres hand abandoned the spit to grip his lovers waist, claws pricking his lovers sides. Dragging the claws through her fur he elicited a sharp squeal from his love who giggled ecstatically into his muzzle. Kneading the flat of his palms against her sides, Myre laughed as well unclasping their fangs as his arms pushed her up straight. Shifting in his lap Crisia tossed her hair back with a quick flick of her neck the raven cascade pooling over his legs as she sought his eyes with a lusting gaze. Myer's hands slid upwards and beneath her mamillare, the braided band of leather that bound over her breasts, closing his fingers around the ample bosom of the saberess, causing her to gasp sharply. After claiming a soft moan from her, his fingertips closed upon her nipples, rolling them firmly between the rough pads of his his fore-finger and thumb. Crisia'a moan pitched in portamento, cresting with a sharp singsong cry a pleasure as he did this, biting her lip in lust muffling and pleasures moan.

Myre's lips soon met the breast of his lover, sucking the soft bud, growing pert beneath his lips stimulation. Crisia purred, nuzzling the top of his head as his attentions switched to her other breast, hands kneading her full tits. His tongues movements were slow and meticulous, raking her teat with the rough sandstone surface of his tongue before soothing her senses with the silky smooth underside. Eyes burning with desire Crisia used her strength to push Myre down, pinning him against the earth, tail flicking playfully behind her. The Saberess' entire body was writhing with anticipation. Her seductive smile a torment in itself as she eyed him hungrily, as if he were to be her next meal. Her maw parted as she her grinding against his sheath filled with earnest need, pressing her mound against his groin. Eliciting soft gasps from both lovers, her wetness causing her sensitive slit to send shivers through her body as cold air was breathed upon it. Seeking warmth for her sex, the saberess slipped down onto his legs and using her thighs, pushed his loin cloth up so that she sat on the bare fur of his sheath, wedging it between the wet lips of her nethers. Her maw parted as she continued to stroke her self with his sheathed member, stimulating her senses upon him as her mound burned for satisfaction. Moans eased from both lovers as the reveled at the feeling of their bodies pressed together. Her wetness soaked into the fur upon his groin and the ambrosial aroma began to permeate the air, accompanied by musk of his peeking member as her movements slid it from his sheath..

"It's been so long we've been together like this. I was beginning to think you might have lost your... youthfulness." Crisia whispered into Myre's ear with an accentuated giggle, tracing her tongue upon around his ears brim.

Myre grunted with indignance, "But we were younger then and naive to The Way, you know we shouldn't..." the saber said firmly. While he said this, he admittedly had no desire to subdue the erotic nature of their embrace reminiscent of times shared before. Crisia flicked her ears in subtle annoyance, the motion escaping Myre's attention as he spoke of The Way. Within the fane their kind preached an abstinence that forbade unmated pairs from sexual relationships and mated couples from performing particular sexual acts. This had all but prevented the lovers for doing more than stress the allowances of their relationship.

Crisia scoffed at him mentioning the oaths of their sexual restraint, but was not angered knowing that Myre was simply loyal to their elders their teachings, just as he was to her. Shaking her head the saberess looked into the eyes of her love giving him a disheartened smile but hadn't given up just yet. Sliding down his thighs Crisia's hands gently caressed Myre's sheath speaking softly as her hands stimulated the large organ within, tugging gently as she drew his member from the confines of his fleshy sleeve.

"Myre, when are you going to realize that The Way is just a lie... Have you ever wondered why we are not allowed to take part in the rituals atop the mountain? They do it to protect us until we become of age, preventing us from flaunting ourselves beneath our sexual urges so hastily."

An eyebrow quirked at her words, but Myre let her finish and thought for a moment watching her hands stroke his member, squeezing the head making his eyes flutter, "I've never questioned my elders teachings. Only sought to prove myself loyal to our tribe. You know this... Why do you speak of our elders as mere quim?"

Crisia lithe laugh soothed his hardening mood, something about her musical voice always mellowed his temper. "Oh Myre!" She laughed even more, "I have been to the top of then mountain... I've seen everything they've done, everything they told us not to do."

Drawing his entire length out, circling her forefinger and thumb at the tip of his member and unsheathing him completely. Crisia was lying down between his legs her eyes widening as she inspected his firmed organ. Myre was large even for a sabertooth and his member measured up to what was to be expected. He was nine and a quarter inches from the base to tip with proportional girth. Flaring at the head it came to a broad angular point, his shaft in rough resemblance to a canine, not that the two lovers knew of. The first six inches of his member remained very ridged and rough in texture before the base swelling much like a knot. This was not used to tie the lovers together when mating as it was not as grotesquely engorged when at full arousal, but as was common knowledge offered a pleasurable experience to both lovers.

Myre peered down at the Saberess with a smirk, chuckling softly, "So what is it that you've seen our elders do?" he queried raising an eyebrow, his blue eyes drifting over the sweeping curves of Crisia's outstretched form, admiring her attributes as he had done many times before.

Crisia giggled at his question, drawing her knees up beneath her for support, "Well... I think I'l just show you," she smirked wriggling her form between his legs.

"By all mea..." Myre couldn't finish speaking aa the females broad tongue extended from her maw, dragging the rough surface along the underside of his swollen sex tearing a sharp gasp from his lungs. "Gods...." he hissed, her tongue molding against the underside of his shaft. Her movements were tantalizingly slow, drawing the new sensation out until she reached the head of his member her tongue swirling around the rim in the most erotic fashion. There was no self-conscious reserve in their actions for in their hormonal youth had succumbed to the pleasures of the flesh, using their hands to tease each other to the brink of climax. But now instinct called for a deeper satisfaction in their passionate desires for one another.

Crisia teased Myre's length with her tongue, beads of pre cum beading from the tip of his shaft and trickling down its length. The saberess leaned down collect the dribble upon her tongue, drawing with inflected emphasis into her maw. "Hmm," she murred thoughtfully, as she acquainted her senses with his taste.

"What's it like?" Myre queried looking into the eyes of his lover, who flashed her gaze upwards in response.

Crisia smirked gathering another dollop before leaning forward and up against Myres chest in a sultry manner, pressing her muzzle against his. He allowed her tongue to slip past his lips, leaning into the kiss. Myre's tongue swept across hers taking his own essence into his muzzle raising his eyebrows. It was salty, with a musky aftertone that was not unpleasant, simply... different, and warranted getting used to.

After the saberess pulled away Myre spent a moment discerning what his opinion might be of his own flavr before feeling a sudden pressure on the head of his member. Looking down he witnessed Crisia'a lips closed aroundhis shaft sucking with an earnest vigor. "Ah..." he rasped, receiving a fleeting glance from his lovers eyes was clearly attempting to stifle a smirk that caused her teeth to scrape against his shaft. He baulked slightly but not enough to disrupt Crisia in her efforts, only encouraging sink down on him more slowly, getting used to the protrusion in her muzzle. Snorting sharply through her nose as the tip of his member pressed against the back of her throat she refused to reject his thick organ even as began to obstruct her breathing. In her determination she sucked rigorously upon Myre's throbbing shaft who exhorted a deep growl in response to her mouths caress. Rhe saberess murred spiritedly around his shaft, the harsh vibrations from her throat sending jolts through his loins causing him to squirm beneath her. A firm pressure gripped the base of his shaft, the saber helpless to withdraw as she grated her teeth admonishing his lack of restraint. Flushing as Crisia shook her head at him to be still pressed weight upon his legs, he settled in the new experience flexing his muscles to relax. Turning her attention to the engorged phallus within her mouth Crisia closed her eyes breathing shakily for a moment until her lungs were full. Swallowing as she sucked in with her cheeks and wriggling her tongue around his shaft as she continued her to take more of throbbing member. It was slow progress and a terrible challenge for Myre to remain still as Crisia used every trick she could imagine to take his entire cock. The titillating sensations of her probing wracked his entire form, his fingers lacing through her hair, gripping tightly.

After a long moment of hesitance from Crisia stopping entirely to regain her composure, her tongue sliding around his shaft she let out as soft groan as she pushed forward and took the last inch of Myer's pulsing shaft. Her nose collided with Myre's groin, the saberess grimacing jerking her head on his cock as she struggled to breath. As Myre attempted to lift her off his shaft, she growled, glaring up at him venomously, clamping her teeth at the base of his shaft. A hand slipping around sac, squeezing slightly told him she wasn't giving up just yet. A rough chortle heaved from her chest as her eyes softened, and she began to alternate her position innhaling sharply. The musky aroma of his groin flooded Crisia's senses causing her eyes to flutter blissfully with a soft moan.

Lifting off of him the saberess coughed lightly as she drew in her first unrestricted breath of air, allowing it to fill her lungs, and exhaled before saying, "Wow, that was harder than I thought. The women made it look so~ easy, but... the elders don't quite have your... gift." Giving him a seductive smirk she cooed softly, "Now... let me try something else."

Her maw lowered around his shaft once more, causing him to groan rather than reply with words. Crisia's efforts were more ardent than before. Her lips pursing around his shaft like a lynch, tongue scraping along his sensitive flesh as she bobbed her head on his shaft. Myre's groans, coupled with the erotic murrs from his lover made his mind writhe in sensual agony. His eyes lolled and entire body clenched as Crisia created a new cascade of pleasures that sapped his body of his control.

"Mmmmf..." she moaned around his shaft as she slowed her movements, reaching the base of his cock. Finally she stopped, her powerful tongue squirming against his member with unknown purpose, but it wasn't long before he felt the results of her efforts as she inhaled sharply. Crisia had formed a channel with her tongue, and was now drawing cold air against his member before exhalin, releasing a torrent of warm air against it. She repeated this over and over again until Myre couldn't fight his building orgasm.

Ready to burst and release his seed he thought he was going to climac when Crisia began to pull off again. As she did so, she rolled her muzzle around his length, using her long fangs to create an even more unique sensation around his shaft as they pressed against his throbbing cock. Groaning lewdly as she withdrew, reaching the head of the phallus, suckling it firmly she sank down again, restarting the cycle. Myre didn't know hold many times she repeated her actions, losing himself in her efforts.

"That feels... " he muttered quaintly as she suckled his shaft, his utterance eliciting a soft muffled snicker from his lover. Crisia murred to his light mumblings, sucking up the copious pre cum filling around his shaft. A soft hand caresseing his sac coddling it gently, the other graspinh the base his organ, squeezing firmly.

It became too much for Myre, as she drew back with her muzzle, snaking her tongue against the underside of his throbbing erection. It happened so suddenly he was unable to conjour a warning, lost in euphoric zeal. His hips bucked into her muzzle as he released the first blast thick seed, coating the back of her throatand tongue. Crisia pressed firmly against his groin with her cold nose, closing her lips even harder around his shaft and eagerly attempted to swallow everything he offered, but was forced to pull off of him as unable to control the tide. Pulling him out of her maw she was greeted by roping blasts of cum against her cheek, neck and chest as she looked away. Cum spewed from his cock, splattering on the ground and across his lap before subsiding with a few quick spurts. Coughing, globs of his seed dribbled down her chin and onto her breast, stringy tendril dripping from the point of fang.

Panting heavily from his exertion, Myre hadn't anticipated the intensity of his orgasm, slumping against the rock as Crisia looked to him with a smile. She could only peek at him with one eys, the other side of her face draped a thinck string of cum. Her hands worked upon his cock a little longer, drawing the last beads of his seed from his shaft, which Crisia lapped up, before tending to the mess Myre had made of her fur. She seemed to enjoy making a show of swallowing his juices in front of him hooking the milky liquid onto her fingers and sucking in from the index. Myre smirked lightly as he watched her display, his eyes half lidded, feeling drowsy after his powerful release.

A few moments later the female crawled up to his side, nuzzling his cheek with a giggle. Planting sweet kisses upon his neck Crisia lowered her form against his. "How was that?" she murred softly, the answer writ in his expression.

Smiling, he licked her nose speaking between pants, "That was... exhilarating..." he whispered, closing his eyes. Bathing in the afterglow he grinned before sitting up in alarm, "What's burning?"