The Runner- Ch. III Ch'athad
I was shivering. I bunched myself up as tight as I could, but the wind still found it's way through my jacket as I walked alongside Athad, who wore a heavy coat. "It's so cold." I hissed through chattering teeth. My thin fur was more accustomed to the wet heat of southern Cheerha. Surtha was nothing lIke Cheerha, the pine trees we're thickly barked and their branches grew all the way down to the ground. Even the cheetahs that lived here seemed to have thicker pelts. "You should have dressed heavier, jungle cat." Athad snickered. "If you think this is cold, then I'm afraid you are severely unprepared for Larxthara, my friend, and it seems it will begin snowing soon." He observed, looking up at the grey, overcast sky. I just popped up my hood over my flattened, icicled ears and huffed. I could see my breath billowing out in clouds. It was just past midday, and sidepaths were beginning to branch off of the road, leading to pine wood log houses. We were nearing the capital city, and I feared I may catch a cold. "Here." Athad spoke suddenly. I turned to see him holding his coat out toward me. "I have thicker fur anyway." I murmured my thanks, then slipped out of my jacket and held it toward him. "At least take my jacket, then." With a nod, he put it on, and I put on his coat, already feeling much warmer. Houses and shops lined the street, and the Surthan capitol was alive with activity, furrs comfortably standing out in the cold with little more than what Athad now wore, looking at merchandise and mingling. There were a few Surthans that I was familiar with, and I hoped to run into them. My favorite part of Surthan culture was greetings. The snow leopards of Surtha always greeted one another with a hug, and with their thicker, fluffier pelts, coupled with their naturally raised body temperature, made for the best hugs I've ever had. And sure, I guess I'm more of a touchy feely sort of guy anyway, but you couldn't blame me. I scanned the crowds of the market and softly mewed half to myself, "I wonder if he..." Athad looked over at me in interest, but before I could explain, I saw him, the white tiger wearing that same grey coat with the collar up and black scarf sitting against a wall at the opening of an alley, his head tilted back, he looked to be dozing. His ears perked up through their slits in his beret as I called his name and hastily made my way over to him, "Oi, Rishka!" Looking at me as I approached, he spoke disbelievingly in ancient Tiharan, "Clad, is that you? It has been far too long." Catching up, Athad stared back in equal disbelief. "A... Tiharan? No, it's impossible." His expression was one of utter bewilderment, but Rishka had already gotten to his paws and we hugged in greeting. I pressed myself into his warm embrace, stifling a small purr of delight as his arms wrapped around me. Then inevitably, he pulled away before my liking, but if he didn't, then we would probably stand there, hugging all day. Anyway, I figured I should go ahead and explain a bit to Athad. I spoke in Surthan, "This is Rishka. He is Tiharan, but he has white fur. Not many Tiharans survived the Great War centuries ago, and the few who did most likely did not survive the mass genocide that followed. It's remarkable that his ancestors survived." I travel a lot, and I have only seen a couple other tigers. Rishka was the only white tiger, though, and I recalled the sayings that the Tiharans wore war paint so often that it blended into their fur, giving them their markings, and that their fur was so often blood soaked that it too stained their fur orange. Tiharans aren't treated very well, either. I would think that most stayed out of civilization, but a few years ago I had bought Rishka that scarf, beret, and tail wrap to help conceal his stripes so that at first glance he appeared a snow leopard. Still looking bewildered, Ch'athad queried, "And you actually know Tiharan?" I figured he had probably never seen a Tiharan in his lifetime. "Yes, I do. I read a lot of books as a cub. I never thought I would use it, but I still read Tiharan books out of interest." Ch'athad looked impressed, and Rishka looked as though he was straining his ears. Resuming my chat with the white tiger, I remarked, "Still don't know Surthan, it seems." Rishka put one paw behind his head, "Aye, the pronunciation is very difficult for me, as well as the grammar. I would hire you to teach me if I had the muny and you had the time." I nodded in apprehension. "It's been a long time since I've had time off, but, you know, duty calls." Ch'athad, seeming to have grasped the concept of a living Tiharan, spoke up with undisguised curiosity, "Where in Akhara did he come from?" I answered, recalling the story Rishka had told me, "Rishka was found at a shipwreck in some shallows not far off of the coast of Larxthara, just a cub wrapped up in blankets with Tiharan designs. As a cub, he lived in an orphanage, but ran away for... obvious reasons." Ch'athad seemed to understand. Larxthara was for the most part an isolationist country, and not exactly hospitable to outsiders. "He lived off the streets until he managed to scrounge up enough coin to pay for a boat ride onto the mainland." Ch'athad's expression told me that he had gained a new respect for the young Tiharan, who was patiently leaning against the wall of the alley, his eyes narrowed as he struggled to make out our Surthan words. "Was there anything else at the shipwreck?" He queried. I shook my head. "He has a necklace with an emblem on it made of bone that he's had since he can remember." I motioned to the bone charm threaded around Rishka's neck. "I've kept an eye out for that symbol but haven't seen it in any of my travels. No one even seemed to know what I was talking about had I mentioned it." Ch'athad looked down with a sympathetic murmur. Looking back at Rishka, I briefly hesitated before saying, "Well, as much as it pains me, I have an urgent job to run." Reluctance was evident both in my eyes and voice, and I could tell Rishka was sad to part ways so soon as well. I could only imagine the loneliness he has to go through. I was glad that Rishka's tone was understanding. "I see. There are things that must be done. Then, may our paths soon cross again."
I bowed down on the blue ornate rug, sweeping my tail over my feet in a polite and respectful manner to the king of Surtha, a snow leopard. My head remained down until I felt the light tip of his tail brush my shoulder. Only then did I look up at him. The sapphire gems embroidered on the royal silver circlet that sat upon his head matched his eyes equally in beauty and intensity. In the throne room of the palace at the center of the Surthan capitol, I knelt before him. Before entering, I had asked Ch'athad to remain outside and wait for me. There were plenty of guards, wearing metal plated armor with traditional carvings rivaling even Pantheran craftsmanship. His majesty spoke clearly and powerfully in response to my previous inquiry as to the lending of soldiers to Cheerah. "I am hesitant to comply. Under the usual circumstances, I would be glad to supply even a meager offering of Surthan warriors to our allies in Cheerha, but understand that there have been certain domestic issues that with even a slight fluxuation of our military force could insight further insurrections." "I assure you that you need not worry. This would be but a gesture of kindness to be completed at your convenience. There is not much urgency at all." The king, who had been pacing as he contemplated looked over his shoulder as he retorted, "If there truly was little urgency, then King Ferris would not have sent one of his best runners to perform such a mundane task." I tried not to flinch at his scalding tone as he turned to face me earnestly. "Stand, cheetah." I stood with my best posture. "There have been some disappearances occurring in the vicinity of the western bay. In addition, the Larxtharans have become increasingly hostile and suspicious. This leads me to believe that these abductions are being performed by the Lynx of Larxthara. However, action cannot be taken without the approval of the population, which I will not have gained without proper evidence. Do you follow?" "Of course, your highness." "Then would you tell me if there have been such reports in Cheerha?" "The Liharans have grudgingly admitted that there have been quite a few gone missing on their western border with the Gerrens. We also suspect there has been violence, but don't know for sure. Luckily though, there have not been any in Cheerha." The king just stared back at me for a long moment before turning away solemnly. "...So then, Clad, what was the real reason you were sent here?" His voice was monotone, not giving anything away. "I am to travel to Larxthara to observe their trade relationship with the Gerrens." The king let out a sigh. "Filthy dogs. Of course they have something to do with this. Very well, go then, and know that it would be greatly appreciated if you were to share any relevant information regarding the whereabouts of my citizens." "Of course, your majesty." I straightened myself and bowed at a ninety degree angle before padding down the center of the room and out of the front gates. Bowing was very important when speaking to authorities. It showed understanding and respect. Ch'athad had been awaiting me, sitting on a bench outside. When he inquired as to the status of our journey, I only replied that we were to continue on to Larxthara. He informed me that the boat ride took about a quarter day, and that we should travel west until sundown, then we would arrive at the docks and take a boat to arrive in Larxthara around midday. Following his advice, we slept at an inn just a few hours past sundown after making a bit of progress west.
I stood awkwardly, trying not to shiver even with Ch'athad's heavy coat, as he and another lynx spoke in Larxtharan. It sounded like water dripping off of ice, if that even makes sense. Smooth and... fluid? Regardless, we stood at the edge of a dock in front of a moderately sized boat with a few other Larxtharan passengers who had already boarded. It was taking a long time for Ch'athad to negotiate, and I assumed the captain was hesitant to let a Cheerhan into Larxthara, let alone board his ship. Then, finally, the captain hissed and yanked the pouch of coins mercilessly from Ch'athad's open paw. He motioned for me to follow and I stepped onto the deck dismayed. He had taken ALL of my saved up muny! I had given the pouch to Ch'athad because it would be easier for him to pay, but I hadn't expected that the captain would take it all. Ch'athad led the way down to the lower deck and to our room, which really was just an empty storage compartment with a small, sealed window. "We should be thankful he let us on at all. At least all of that muny paid for a trip back, too. He's going to come back for another shipment at sunrise in two days. He said we could take his ship back, but if we're not on time he'll leave without us." He explained. In other words I have the rest of today and tomorrow. I growled brusquely and plunged my muzzle into the soft warmth of Ch'athad's coat. I would have to explain to King Ferris that he underestimated the cost of such a voyage. If I was lucky I may get some extra compensation or an easy job for some nobleman that payed well, but I really doubted it. The voyage was short, honestly only three or four hours. I took the time to take inventory of my messenger bag, stretch, and rest. Following Ch'athad into the city past a couple of glaring Larxtharan guards who stood in front of the gate through the towering outer walls, I saw that the stonework of the buildings was simplistic, but gothic in nature, and the guards' armor was sparing but effective. I supposed the Larxtharans were a practical race. "This is Port Town." Ch'athad explained, already with a notably heavier accent. "I'm afraid that if we were to travel to the capitol, by the time we'd arrive, we would need to double back to get to the ship in time." I nodded with a murmur of acknowledgement. I could not allow us to be stranded here. "However," He began again, and I perked my ears. "If we head along the coast then we should be able to get to the south western docks where most of the Gerren trade takes place." Now that was something I could work with. "Then lead the way." We were met with hostility, caution, and even fear as we headed deeper into Larxthara. Lynx beckoned their cubs closer at my sight, and many narrowed their eyes before sharply turning their backs. Snow began to fall steadily from the clouds, but luckily it wasn't too windy. It was obvious we weren't welcome here, and I was surprised to see huskies, natives of Hurshken, and the Gerrens of Gerr-Shtefen, but they were only much more hostile. There were about as many Surthans here as there are Cheerhans in Carghara. That is to say, not very many at all. There was a lot of commerce at the docks here, and the canines were relatively friendly towards the Lynx. The main language being spoken was Gerren, though, and my Gerren was pretty rusty, only my Hurshken was worse. Even so, there didn't seem to be anything suspicious being traded, just typical supplies, though there was a fairly decent amount of unloaded, guarded cargo, and the guards wouldn't let me get near. When it had begun getting dark, we headed back into the town to find an inn. The inn keeper didn't seem happy at all to have us, even after I had reluctantly offered to pay extra. After a short time of attempted negotiation, she ultimately commanded us to leave immediately or she would call the guards. We wasted no time in complying. "This is bad, this is very bad." Ch'athad began. "A night in the open after a snow in Larxthara..." My ears were still flattened back when we came to a sequestered allyway and huddled together against a corner. "We just need to stay warm." I mewed, pressing closer to Ch'athad. My yellow spotted fur was dappled with snowflakes. In the darkness, we shared eachother's warmth as we tried to sleep, but though Ch'athad had fallen into a light doze, I still struggled to find rest, afraid of the possibility of ambush, that the Larxtharans bore such a hatred for my kind that they would try to murder me. It was irrational to a point, but still, I got up and took of the coat, draping it over Ch'athad. I would just be gone for a little while. I quickly made my way, running, to the docks. If there was a transaction to be made in secret, then why not under the cover of night? I was getting very, very cold, and my eyes started to water and my nose began to run. Approaching my destination, I peeked out from behind the corner of a tavern to see if there was any activity. Sure enough, there was a lone group of about three Lynx and three Gerrens facing eachother, flanked by maybe four guards. One of the Gerrens had just pried open a wooden cargo container, allowing whatever was inside to fall out. A lynx bent down and seemed to be examining it. I strained my eyes but couldn't make out the object in the darkness and snow. My paws were beginning to go numb and my throat stung from breathing the icy air. I headed back the way I came, fruitless in my efforts. Seeming to be in a deeper sleep now, Ch'athad was still where I left him, sitting against the wall of the corner of the alley. I carefully but eagerly coiled myself up under the coat, yet refrained from pressing against him immediately; the shock from my colder body may awaken him, and I didn't want to answer any awkward questions. It wasn't long before I gave in to the temptation, though, and almost hugged him. I was so cold that he felt hot, and though he fidgeted, he didn't wake. Laying my head on his shoulder, I realized how tired I was, and gradually fell into sleep.
Luckily enough, we weren't awakened by angry Lynx, instead leaving us to awaken ourselves in a rather... intimate position. It was very awkward when I blearily opened my eyes to find that we were now laying across the gound, Ch'athad on his back and me laying over him, my forepaws on his shoulders and head on his chest so that I could hear his heartbeat. My legs were parted and the crotches of our pants were pressed together. What's worse is that I felt my penis actually sticking partially out of my sheath, a small drop of pre wetting the tip, and I felt a warm bulge in Ch'athad's pants as well. Then, I sat up, still on top of him, and that's when he woke up. I blushed uncontrollably as we just stared back at eachother, trying to comprehend the situation, my green eyes wide. Slowly, he pulled himself out from under me to sit back against the wall. I couldn't bring myself to look directly at him. My member, though not fully erect, was throbbing, and all I could scent was the smell of our arousal. It smelled delicious, and by the way Ch'athad's nostrils flared, I could tell he thought so too. But it would be wrong. I was a virgin, and he was mated. "I, uh..." He started, as I was lost for words. In Cheerha, it was acceptable to have a mate of each sex. In Surtha, it was acceptable to have a mate of either sex. In Lihara, it was only acceptable to have mates of the opposite sex, males could have many, and females only one, but I wasn't sure how things were anywhere else. Neither of us said anything and I just huddled myself next to him, but not touching. My tail twitched back and forth as I allowed my cock to slowly, gradually slide back inside me. Eventually, I stood up, having recovered, and nervously said, "I should get to work." Ch'athad grunted his agreement and I was off. I was distracted, of course, and really didn't figure out anything new other than that there is something strange in those guarded boxes that I had seen last night but still didn't know what. When I got back to the alley the smell made it obvious that Ch'athad must have masturbated while I was gone. Maybe he was too used to regular sex with his mate that he couldn't go more than a few days without releasing himself. He had my sympathy. I, however, was more accustomed to going a week or two between sessions. Anyway, we asked around for the rest of the day. Pissing off a lot of Lynx and dogs, and still to no avail. The next night we just slept back to back, and, thank God, we didn't wake up like we did the other morning. We made it to the ship on time and the captain was, needless to say, unenthusiastic to see us. As much as I resented not having much information to report, I wasn't sad to be leaving. The awkwardness only faded when we had made it back to Surtha. I wondered how Shane was doing.