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For Royalty A crisp chill hung in the air as the remaining flints of night were pushed back in the sky. Bird song called out across the camp, reaching a young mutt's ears as he sat atop the branches of a withered oak tree. Sighing, he took another wet bite of the apple in one paw as he steadied himself against the great trunk, a half-empty water canteen slung by his hip. A quiver was strapped to his back, a bow held between his arm and torso, the wood weathered but tough. He chewed slowly, savouring the taste of what would have to suffice as his breakfast, knowing that not only did morning bring the cresting sun but also his daily chores.                 The young boy tossed the remains of the apple into the air, whipping out the bow, arming it and pulling it back, keeping his sights level as he waited for the moment of release. The apple sailed high above, tumbling over itself as the boy kept his eye fixed on it. He inhaled, held his breath and let his fingers go lax, letting the bow twang sharply. The arrow shot out, barely caught within the blink of an eye as the apple splintered and was blown apart, the core ripped to pieces. The boy took only a moment to watch the fragments fall to the ground with dulled thuds before, with practised agility, he swung himself down to the ground, landing softly onto his footpaws.                 The mutt that stood in the meadow was of an average height - neither tall nor short. He did however have a regular build, caught yet again between the two as reasonable. His muscles were not defined, but neither was he scrawny. He held himself with a passive nature rather than standing boldly with his head held high or his chest puffed out. If anything he was quiet, plaintive. His eyes shone, though, with a slight mischievousness that came with youth. His chestnut mane hung over one eye, allowing only the other to be seen, the eye had a fleck of hazel streaking through his iris. His mane flowed down his back to his tail; the rest of his body covered in short, grey, fuzzy fur. His chest was smothered with an oval of creamy tan, socks of black covering his forelimbs, tipped with whitened fingers, all accompanied by the shaggy brown fur tufted from the very same forelimbs. The underside of his muzzle was the same lightened tan, striped with a ribbon of black across the topside over his nose. Dressed in simple archer's gear, he seemed quite small in the grassy expanse. He made his way towards camp, picking his way through the long stalks of grass sodden with dew. It wasn't that long a walk, but the boy knew he had time to spare. He'd gotten up extra early today to watch the sunrise; it was rumoured to be spectacular in this region. It was just a shame that the crusade had laid besiege to the meadows here or else he might have enjoyed the panorama better. Regardless, he took his time on the way back, letting his paws trail over the plant blades as they tickled his pads. It was a rare moment, but he soon found himself wagging his tail lazily behind him as he set foot back in camp, happily enjoying the fresh morning that was on offer.                 A few of the soldiers were up and about, most still groggy with sleep as they all trudged to the nearby stream to refill their canteens and wash whatever sweat and grime they could off. The mutt avoided most of them, keeping to the outskirts of the tents as he passed by, his grip tightening on the quiver's band. Not out of fear or caution, simply because he didn't want to have to interact with any of them. They were war-hardened veterans, and he was a naïve apprentice. They looked down on him. Not that they showed it, but it was still there. The sidelong glances at drill, the bitter stares from across the campfires; it was there all right.                 He finally reached his destination. A larger-than-normal, ornate looking tent stood rather humbly in amidst the rows. It was almost uncanny to the rest were it not for the coat of arms splayed across the fabric and the slightly better condition it was in. The boy pulled the entrance open and ducked inside, instantly hit with a heavy scent of sweat and roasted meat that the knave knew now so well. Off came the bow and quiver, set down on the ground and propped up against one of the bamboo poles that held the whole ensemble up. He carefully edged his way further into the tent, spying the shifting form of his mentor and master over to the side.                 Moving further round in an arc, the young mutt picked up pieces of discarded armour and clothing as quietly as he could, setting the armour in a neat pile on one side and placing the clothes into a wooden bucket that he'd already filled from last night. He turned his attention solely to them, making sure to have them thoroughly soaked before heaping them out of the bucket, wringing them. They were then taken outside where the boy hung them up on ropes that had been tied to posts hammered into the ground, draping them there to dry off in the morning sun. The apprentice was almost finished with the last tunic when a rustle from inside the tent caused one of his ears to perk up, flicking at the slight sound. Quickly followed by the shuffles inside, there came a yawn than a loud groan. The young boy knew what was next; he hung up the last article of clothing and made his way back inside, just as a wincing voice slurred out, "MARRUS!"                 Inside the tent, the hulking lump off to the side had moved, pulling away its covers and revealing the bulky form of Dova. The half dragon, half shark hybrid was another matter when compared to the young boy. Dova was much, much larger, with a muscled frame and a staggering height. He made a clear foot at least above the mutt, and probably had more pounds in muscle than him too. Two horns protruded through a mess of hair, pointed sharply at the tip. As well as these, two large, leathery wings were tucked and folded neatly behind the hybrid's back. Wearing nothing at all, the entirety of the hybrid's body was on show. The smooth skin that ran across the torso and most of the body was littered with scars from previous skirmishes. His forelimbs, unlike the mutt's, were covered with scales of crimson red, seemingly accentuated from the darkened grey-black of his body. A shark's tail trailed down from the bed, barely gracing the floor as it sat idly beside Dova. Marrus, the young mutt, paid little attention as the dragon-shark hybrid sat upright in bed, rubbing the side of his head with one paw. Instead, he went about his way and poured what was left of his water canteen into a mug for the knight to drink, heading then over to the trunk tucked away in the corner. "Marrus, what time is it?" Dova groaned squinting through dazed eyes as the boy went about his work. "The sun just rose, sir," he replied, unlatching the heavy lid and rummaging inside, taking out fresh garments for his mentor to wear, "A few of the men are up from what I've seen, so you haven't missed anything. I'll assume you'll be joining them as well for breakfast?" A sluggish grunt was all he got in response; that'll be a yes then. He laid the clothes out at the foot of the bed, and then made to go fetch the armour to be polished. A heavy paw landed on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. He cringed, wondering what he could have done wrong now. His body was pushed around, forced to face his mentor and master, "You know what I want... I only ask you to do once a day simply for protocol..." the hybrid rumbled, watching the mutt's eyes for any hint of hesitance. There was a slight flicker of mutiny, but Marrus sighed, kneeling down on his left knee, bringing his right arm across his chest, paw closed in a fist, "Hail, Sir Dova, Knight of Valour."                 The knight smiled patting the boy on the head, "Good, now up off that filthy floor. I only ask that you kneel, not that you stay there," he chuckled, helping the mutt to his footpaws. Dova picked up the preselected clothes, examining them if only for a moment to deem them satisfactory before donning them, haphazardly throwing them on. Marrus himself moved back to the armour, watching his mentor out of the corner of his eye, "Why do you ask me only to kneel once, sir?" A sigh came from the other side of the tent, "How many times have you asked me that question, kid?"  "Fifty seven."  "And why do you keep asking?"  "Because I want to see if your answer changes." Another sigh; this one more exasperated than the last, "I only ask you to kneel once as everyone else does. It is everyone's place under me. But you; you do not belong there. You belong by my side. Soon we will get you there and then no more kneeling for you. But for now, patience young one." That answer always sent chills down Marrus' spine. The way Dova said it, with such conviction and belief that Marrus almost kidded himself was true. But the knight had to be lying. A knight never grew attached to an apprentice. The apprenticeships were just petty royal schemes to make a few street urchins feel special and indoctrinate them into the army. It cleans the streets as well as giving a surplus of men to die for the King. Marrus himself was just an orphan, living on the streets after his family were killed in the Great Fire. He was picked out by Dova randomly in the street... almost kidnapped if one questioned the ethics of the guard. But here he was today, a year on and he could at least say with no doubt that he trusted the hybrid's word. He didn't believe it, mind, but he trusted it.                 A snapping of fingers roused Marrus from his daydream, "Kid! Come on, quit it!" Dova was dressed and stretching by the entrance, "I want that armour spotless by the time I get back; you've already eaten, as always, right?" Marrus nodded. Dova huffed, "I don't know why you don't eat with me and the other men..." "They unnerve me." "Well you need to grow a pair kid," the knight growled as he flexed his wings, "If you want to become a knight you can't just avoid things you don't like because they 'unnerve you'... You need to get into the thick of it. Mark my words; if you don't start to make yourself better known about camp then I'm going to tie you by your ankles to the nearest oak tree. Understand?" A second nod from Marrus; the boy didn't trust his voice under the pressure. "Good... now sorry to snap, still hung over from last night's celebrations of our victory in the meadows. I'll be back to my old self once I return," A claw was pointed at the splattered armour, "Clean; now."                  With the final two words being his command, Dova left the tent, allowing Marrus privacy. The mutt picked up the chest plate, feeling the heavy weight in his paws, wondering what kind of battering the armour had seen before his arrival. Dova was an infamous knight in the legion. His victories in battles were renowned; they were often the basis of fairy tales that children whispered about in the dark around a roaring fire. Marrus had heard of Dova's endeavours in far off lands, but he'd never have imagined of actually being there beside him, the urban legend.                 The only strange thing Marrus had to say upon his relationship with Dova was that it was... underwhelming. He had expected a strict knight, a roughened soldier who was chiselled to the bone with cold hearted ruthlessness. But no. When he met Dova for the first time, he was confronted with a plain, happy looking fur who welcomed the boy to come and sit with him at his bar table, dressed in ordinary folk clothes and chatting with working furs. That night, his first night spending time with Dova, had been full of drinking watered down ale, cheap food and hearty stories of steamy encounters. Marrus had been embarrassed that night so many times, but with Dova there slapping his shoulder when they were laughing raucously and including him in conversation eventually dulled his inhibitions. From that day onwards, whilst Dova had kept his distance for his student's sake, they had always been more open than any other knave and knight of the court.                 Marrus picked up a rag, soaking it in water before rubbing foul smelling oil into it, wrinkling his nose at the pungent aroma. He scrubbed at the metal, pressing into every edge and plate as the dirt fell away it dregs of flakes. Once the boy got used to the smell of rotting sap, cleaning the armour became a breeze. He took a more methodical approach to it, working away diligently at each piece of armour until he was certain they were polished to a shine. He move from the chest plate to the helmet, then to the one arm guard and then to the gauntlet. He was moving onto the leg plates when he heard voices from outside the tent's entrance, so he looked up, spotting the two shadows of two furs standing outside. One appeared to be heavily armoured, or incredibly muscled in their build, whilst the other had a similar look to Dova. When he heard that silhouette, Marrus knew it was indeed Dova, but he couldn't place the other voice, "Sir! I bring bad news from Sir Xitra; they've been forced to retreat from the southern embankment!" "Damn it, what time did my brother call the order?" "At moon's peak, sir! He lost half his battalion to the enemy..." "Then by that reckoning we barely have time to organise a decent defence...  They'll be on us in no time... Messenger; go to the captain on the eastern side of the camp, pass on my orders to mobilise all the soldiers immediately for heavy combat. We have no time to spare."                 Marrus listened quietly to all of this, his heart thumping in his ears, bile threatening to crawl up his throat. This is what he hated most; the unexpected bloodshed, the fighting and the death... He could do nothing but stand beside Dova as men and women died underneath the enemy's claws. Still to this day, a year on from first being assigned an apprenticeship, Marrus did not know how to carry a sword. He had so far avoided training to do so, finding time to perfect other skills such as aiding to Dova's needs, cooking, cleaning and repairing weapons and armour. He worried for the day when he would be told to take arms and fight against an opponent, even in training, to be taught how to cause harm and how to kill. The prospect made him disgust himself, shudder inwardly and depress him to his very core. Sure he would use a bow and arrow, but that was for hunting feral game, not actual thinking furs. That was his only exception. To use that method though for intentional killing of another fur like him was unthinkable.                 The entrance was pulled open and a rather irritated looking Dova walked in, a paw rubbing the back of his head. Marrus finished up with the final piece of armour, dusting it clean before placing it with the others, completing his task. He sat there on the blanket of his bed observing his mentor and waiting for the inevitable words and orders to come. Pacing back and forth, Dova muttered and mumbled words, pausing mid-step only to continue again, snarling on the occasion something pestered his thoughts. All the while, Marrus kept on sitting silently, watching; waiting. That's all he could do; watch and wait.                 Then Dova stopped pacing.                 He turned to Marrus, a sad, pained look in his eyes, "Pass me my armour kid." "You're going to fight, sir?" Marrus inquired as he rose to his footpaws, collecting up the armour and bringing it to Dova's side. Some of the words had probably caught in his throat if he'd been honest with himself, but Dova made no mention of it. He simply snatched up the armour and began to put it on, strapping it to himself tightly, "I have to, kid," he grunted, tugging at a leather strap, "We'll need every man out there." "Do you want me to join you?" Marrus asked, swallowing the swelling bubble of fear and cowardliness. Dova stopped in his tracks, staring levelly at Marrus. The mutt shifted uncomfortably, panicking in his mind if the knight had noticed the terror. "I don't want you to fight at all... I would never want you to fight..." "Then why... why am I your apprentice?" Marrus was confused, it didn't make sense. Why take a child on then as a knave to train only to not want him to fight? Dova finished adjusting the last strap of his armour before he stood to his full, proud height. The armour glittered with the rays of light that bled through the tent, a swirling dragon-shark emblem creeping across the chest and around the back. "Because... because I couldn't stand to watch you suffer on the streets," Dova admitted with defeated resignation. This was a new answer, and Marrus was now much more than just scared, "I don't understand... what do you mean? What are you saying sir..."  "Just..." Shadows moved outside the tent. Men were calling for Dova. The knight sighed, hefting his sword out of its sheath, "Just don't follow me... Understand?"                 Marrus nodded, numbly taking in the command as with a quick turn Dova was gone. The entrance billowed briefly before settling shut again. Then Marrus was left alone in the tent, blankly staring at the thin air where his mentor had been mere moments ago. The sound of a battering trample against the ground reverberated all about Marrus, a loud roar accompanying it, carrying for miles and ringing in his ears.                 You must follow orders...                 The mutt's eyes slowly moved to the bow and quiver set by the entrance. There had to be a way out, some way around the order. A loophole... He just had to find one...                 Don't follow me...                 Just one little detail... Something to pick out from the rest that he could use; all he needed was one detail...                 Don't follow me...                 Marrus moved swiftly to the entry way, snatching up the bow and quiver and sliding them onto his shoulder. Don't go after sir, go after some other soldiers. He exited the tent and glanced left to right. The camp looked bare, trodden and barren, like vicious bandits had come and upturned the place. Food was left to burn on sticks over open fires, random pieces of armour left lying about, tents empty and silent; the only sound was the roar of war, emanating from over the hill.                  With wary footpaw-steps, Marrus clambered up the verge, reaching out a paw to steady himself as he came to the brink, finally coming face to face with the battle. He stumbled as he tried to keep his footing against the sheer rage coming from the warzone, a constant earthquake beneath his feet as soldiers waged metal to metal. Clouds of dust and heat swathed in the air, keeping a fine mist of destruction looming over the swarms of warriors in armour.  Then there was the noise, the loud, unbearable noise that shattered the skies and tore into the surroundings. Marrus had to flinch from it. The sight, the smell, the sound, all of it; this was war, and he hated it.                 But his opinion couldn't affect his judgement. He'd made the vow to stand beside his mentor, learn from him and become like him, so fight he must. He was about to set off down the hill to join the battle when Dova's words came startling back to him. That odd phrase... I would never want you to fight... What did he mean? It went against everything he'd been taught. It meant casting aside all the hard, tiring weeks - no, months even - of bitter work. How could he not fight now? What had it all been for, if not for war?                 Marrus shook his head, growling quietly to himself as he drew an arrow in the bow, aiming at a nearby enemy. He released, and blankly watched as the arrow shot between the plates on the behemoth's armour. With the most excruciating roar, the beast fell, collapsing to the ground and skidding to an eventual halt as it clutched at its side, blood already weeping between the metal. Marrus shook his head, keeping his eyes trained on the battle and away from his foe. No time to get squeamish, he had his duty to do. He took off with a sprint, drawing another arrow as he picked out his next target, firing off another volley of arrows taking down another three. He tripped and ran his way through the warzone, trying to blot out all the grim, terrifying thoughts and feelings that screamed in his chest. Swallowing nervously, he kept up the pace, keeping enemies at a distance. Someone slung a body to his footpaws, howling above him but he sidestepped the swings of an axe that came hurtling towards him. He reached back into his quiver, paws shaking as he snatched out another arrow, fumbling with the string and laying himself flat against some rock. The axe came back in his direction, the deadly edge slicing through the dust with a whistle. Marrus ducked, the blade embedding deep into rock, lodging there. He wasted no time in letting loose the arrow, wincing as he heard the yowl of pain. But it wasn't enough. The enemy reared back only momentarily, yanking the axe free with a clump of stones and shards. A quick footpaw was brought up and slammed into the leviathan's crotch, another muted wail of agony as the foe slumped to the ground, the axe clattering with a heavy thud beside him. Marrus couldn't help but chuckle slightly as the beast's paws nursed the tender groin as it whimpered on the ground. Underhand tactics, but the boy had no intention of getting killed today.                 He picked up the axe, something far too heavy for him to lift with a single arm, and swung it with both paws into another enemy. There was barely enough power or weight behind it to even pierce the armour, but it shook and confused the adversary long enough for his other opponent to swiftly finish him. Marrus was about to thank his aid, when his words suddenly caught in his throat. "S-...S-sir?!" he babbled, standing there numbly in the middle of battle. Before him stood Dova, tall and proud with his armour scratched and muddied but still retaining its perfect shape. A sword was clutched in one paw, the long, gleaming blade dazzling in the bare light. In his other was his shield, dented and battered but still intact carrying his coat of arms emblazoned on the surface. It took the knight a moment, but slow, horrified realisation came across his muzzle. "M-marrus?!" He practically shouted over the noise, "I thought I told you to... What the fuck are you doing here?!" "I came..." Marrus trailed off, looking over to his right, his eyes going wide. Another arrow flashed out, set in the bow and fired, bringing down a charging enemy. "I came to help!" "What?! NO!" Dova bellowed, throwing off an attacker with his shield before cutting him away with the sword, parrying with a series of crashing blows. Marrus whimpered as he not only heard but saw his mentor's wrath, shying away when the larger hybrid came close. The young mutt clenched his eyes shut, drowning out the fights going on around him as he awaited whatever punishment was in store for him. A backhanded slap, a deathly cut to the throat, who knows...                 Surprisingly, all he heard was the grating slide of metal as a sword was sheathed and footfalls heading towards him, "No..." Marrus trembled as he heard the one, soft word rumble down at him, a paw caressing the side of his face and brushing away his unruly mane. Carefully and timidly, Marrus opened his eyes, a shadow cast across his as the body of Dova blocked out the sun. The paw remained stroking his cheek and holding his head, the hybrid kneeling down so that he was level with the mutt, "No... I don't need help... What I need is for you to be safe and cared for..." "Sir... I don't-" He couldn't finish. He was cut off before he could as Dova shook his head and spoke over him, "No... I'm not 'sir' or 'master'... I'm... I'm..." The word was stuck in his throat, obviously carrying some emotional weight to it. Marrus could see his mentor struggling with it, and all he could do was watch as he tried forming the syllables.                 But Marrus never did hear what Dova said.                 He was sent sprawling as he flew through the air, having been brutally slammed aside by a giant war hammer. With a sickening crunch, he smashed into another rocky outcrop, his body falling limp and tumbling to the ground like a ragdoll. Dova drew back out his sword and fended off the attacker, keeping Marrus in the corner of his eye. The boy didn't get back up. Watching in fear, Dova saw a pool of red slowly form around Marrus, crawling out with tendrils of dark, oozing crimson that soaked the dirt it touched. With a deafening roar of pure rage, Dova abandoned his usual calm demeanour and went wild. His jabs and slices became ruthless and almost impossible to dodge, almost vicious and animalistic. He bared his teeth, leaving nothing left of the soldier who'd hurt Marrus but a heap on the ground.

                Dova huffed out ragged breaths as he staggered over to Marrus' broken body. He fell to his knees, his paws feeling for the damaged areas, his head clouded with unease and panic. It looked bad... very, very bad... Gingerly, he did his best to lift the wounded mutt up in his arms, cautious to his injuries. Nothing would stop him from saving him...  

                  With bleary blinks and a shuddering groan, Marrus awoke with a slow start. It took a few more blinks before he adjusted to the softened light, trying to prop himself up. As he moved his body, a jagged flash of faint pain shook through him, causing him to wince and growl at himself. How could he have been stupid enough to forget the battle...? Had he been killed?                 Marrus looked around the room - well, tent it would have seemed to him - that he was in. What had happened? Where was he now? The last thing he could recall was Dova trying to tell him something. He dearly hoped his mentor was okay, he didn't know what he'd do if something had happened to him. The tent was void of any other occupants, and seemed to be filled with a few trunks and sacks of whatever resources.  He wondered whose tent he was in because it certainly wasn't his and Dova's, nor did it look like any of the barrack tents.                 Most of his questions were answered simply by the arrival of two individuals. The first was a stout looking tiger who strode in with both purpose and arrogance. Strapped to his bicep was an off-white band with a bold red cross on it, signifying his rank as a medical officer.   Behind him though was an even more important fur. Dova stepped into the tent quietly, keeping his gaze fixed on Marrus who lay on the bed in the centre. He held himself air of wariness, but there was a hint of relief in his eyes as he watched the awake and dazed mutt.                 The tiger fussed over Marrus only for a moment, paws pressing and tapping at parts of his body, not caring to pay any heed to the boy's protests and whines. In under a minute the checking was done, and tiger made his way outside without so much as a glance to Marrus, having an appalling bedside manner. However, he did whisper something to Dova, who had to lean down to hear what was being said. He waited for the tiger to finish before nodding, allowing the medic to leave the two of the alone. An uncomfortable, awkward silence then fell between them both, and it carried on as Marrus fidgeted on the bed and Dova stared at him. It only broke when he finally spoke, "You died... twice..." Marrus was gobsmacked; rarely did anyone ever survive succumbing to death once, but twice was an impossible miracle... "The doctors and surgeons had to work tirelessly to save you. Right now you owe a lot of men and women your life." "I'm... I'm sorry?" The mutt hedged, unsure as to what to say. Silence came between them again, and each passing second drove Marrus further into insanity. What was going on? Again, it came down to Dova to break the quiet, "You're dismissed from duty."                 Marrus broke down into tears, "No! Please! Sir, I need this! I need you to train me!" He sobbed, fumbling to get up from the bed as his body refused to support his weight, "You can't dismiss me... Please! I'll do anything! Just don't throw me back out onto the streets..."                 Dova was by his side in an instant, covering the distance from the tent's entrance to the bedside in a flash, pushing Marrus back down onto the bed as he knelt beside him. Large paws pressed gently at the boy's chest, laying him back down and then stroking his head, soothing him, "I would never throw you back out... I couldn't... not ever..." He wiped away the tears on Marrus' cheeks, smiling kindly, "But it's against the terms of your apprenticeship to be adopted by a mentor..."                 It took a while for Dova's words to sink in, but when they did Marrus' face slowly lit up, a grin forming on his muzzle. Tears came still, but now they had changed from ones of fear and upset to those of joy and elation. He would have leapt up and hugged his mentor... no... his former mentor, his dad, then and there were it not for his weight keeping him down and lying flat in bed. "Thank you..." Marrus spluttered through happy tears, "Thank you so much!" He nuzzled Dova on impulse, but shied back, realising what he had done. Boundaries hadn't been set; maybe the older hybrid was unaccustomed to such affection of a physical level. Maybe he was against it...                 Much to Marrus surprise, Dova nuzzled back, kissing his forehead lovingly, "It should be me thanking you, kid... I get to have the honour of calling you 'my son'..." Marrus blushed, his eyes shifting bashfully avoiding contact with Dova's as he replied, "I love you... Dad..." Dova smiled, kissing his son again, "I love you too, kid."                 Marrus blushed even harder, unable to stop a giggle from coming from his muzzle. He clamped his paws over his mouth, staring with wide eyes up at his father as though he had just said a bad word. Dova chuckled, stroking his mane once more out of his eyes, "You can act how you like around me, kid... I'm not longer your mentor or master." He nuzzled Marrus' cheek, "I want to see you being you, not the kid I found on the streets alone and cold..." "Is that why you took me as an apprentice, s-... Dad?" Marrus asked, his words disjointed somewhat as he got to grips with his newfound status. The knight nodded the affirmative, the silence speaking volumes where words could not. His hand lingered on Marrus' face, fingers running through the soft mane hair atop the mutt's head. Neither said anything more as the silence held the air between them, strangely comfortable for both. The tent was quiet and calm, Dova keeping his fingers playing through Marrus' mane, him finding the idle, gentle gesture to be soothing. He closed his eyes, leaning into his father's touch, murring softly.                 Dova saw his chance. It would be risky, absurd even to try, but he had made up his mind, set on the goal. Without a second to spare, he leant forwards, cupping Marrus' cheek and tilting his head upwards. He pressed his muzzle against the boy's, holding the touch, he himself closing his own eyes. Marrus, on the other hand, snapped his open wildly, a sudden panic filling his chest. His eyes darted from Dova's expression to the tip of his muzzle, very aware of the warmth, wet lips against his own, the other's tongue insistently pleading for entrance. This was the moment he had been waiting for, one single moment that Marrus had been longing for since coming under Dova's command. To be with the male, to touch him, feel himself close, bare bodies gracing one another's...                 It was decided; Marrus opened his muzzle slightly, parting his lips and feeling Dova delve inside. An unusual taste filled Marrus' maw, but it relished it, savoured it carefully as though each second would never last. He suckled on the tongue, the warm muscle exploring his maw as he murred into Dova's muzzle, his eyes sliding shut again in bliss. The paw cupping his face moved behind Marrus' head, continuing to brush through the mane only now moving the boy closer, deepening the kiss. The tongue pushed deeper, running over Marrus' own tongue, flicking it and wrestling until the mutt was left panting helplessly, his tail dragging in long wags across the bedding.                 The kiss was broken by Dova, who pulled away, feeling the heat of Marrus' breath on his muzzle. A smile played across his lips, caught between lust and happiness - an unusual mix of emotions, but he nevertheless revelled in it. The mutt blinked a few times, looking up at Dova with half-lidded cloudy eyes, a lopsided grin splayed across his face, "Dad..." He murmured, the word almost slurred as Marrus fought to keep control of himself. The older male widened his smile, a smirk toying at the corner as reached up with his free paw he lifted his tunic up and off his body, revealing the tightly packed muscle that Marrus rarely saw.  In the dulled light, Dova was lit up in a soft casting glow, each muscle defined with a thin border of shadow. "Please..." Marrus whimpered, giving in. That one word alone was enough to send Dova's thoughts toppling over the edge. The paw behind the boy's head pushed him downwards, the other tugging at the knot that held his bottoms up. The fabric fell away, and Marrus was forced to lower himself down onto all fours. With the paw pushing him forwards, his face was pressed against Dova's crotch, his huge balls and heavy cock hot against him. He inhaled on instinct, breathing in the scent as he rubbed himself against Dova's endowment. Above him cam a chuckle and a groan, "That's it sweetheart..." He shivered, blood beginning to pump into his length, his cock rising to salute. Marrus needed no invitation to open his maw and lap at the sensitive crimson flesh, sliding his tongue from the base to the tip before sealing his lips around the head. When he heard the emboldened groan come from Dova, he smiled inwardly, blushing and flattening his ears. Slowly but surely, he began to move himself down onto his father's cock, swirling his tongue around in teasing circles as inch after thick inch slipped into his muzzle. The taste of pre dribbled across his tongue, and Marrus made sure none went to waste, gulping it down along with a few inches of Dova's length. A bulge pressed out in his throat, and Dova rubbed the boy's head encouragingly, now buried to the hilt in the muzzle's wet warmth.                 Dova took control at that point. Leaving Marrus still buried on his length, he began to slide back out, grabbing the mutt's head in one paw and using it as leverage. He pulled just out to the tip before pushing back in, allowing himself to fuck the boy's mouth. To see Marrus moan and wag his tail in a blatant pleasure made his cock throb harder, earning another groan from the boy. He moved his other paw down the mutt's back, brushing through his mane until he reached the tail. Still thrusting his hips back and forth, he licked two fingers, giving them a generous glob of spit before moving them down and pressing against the boy's tight hole.                 Marrus grunted around the cock, eyes once more wide as he felt a slick sensation as the two fingers entered him. The unexpected entry was sudden, but he let his eyes slide shut again, his blush intensifying as the two fingers jammed in and out of him like a piston, his muzzle numb from being open for so long and stretched around his father's girth.                 A third finger was added, and then the three spread apart, making Marrus gasp loudly as he was stretched from the other end. Dova growled quietly, pulling out of the maw quickly, gripping his cock and stroking the pre and slobber across his length. The mutt looked up with questioning eyes, wondering why the fun had been cut short, flinching slightly as the cock was slapped against his muzzle a few times. He shuddered when the fingers left his hole, leaving his ass feeling cold and empty.                  But what made Marrus even more perplexed was when Dova laid down on his back, his cock standing upright to attention, dripping with the boy's saliva. The older hybrid leered over at Marrus, nodding towards his dick, "Sit."                 Now it was Dova's turn to utter only one word. Marrus couldn't help himself; it had such a vivid effect on him. Unable to stop himself, he crawled over, straddling Dova's hips before lowering himself down, aiming the cock at his loosened hole. Despite the fingers, he was still incredibly tight, and Marrus whimpered when his hole attempted to wrap around the other's cock head. The sheer thickness made every little movement sensitive, and without even having a single inch inside him he was already moaning.                 Dova's patience was running thin though. He wanted to fuck, not tease. Bringing both his paws and placing them on Marrus' hips, he shoved the boy down, slamming in his length to half way, causing the boy to yelp, leaving his mouth open in an 'o' as his hole quivered and clenched around the manhood inside him. Dova allowed his son to get accustomed for a few seconds to the cock, giving them both chance to recover the abrupt penetration. The seconds passed far too quickly for Marrus, but Dova was waiting no longer. With his paws both still on the boy's sides, he took over, forcing Marrus down and letting more of his length slip into the boy's ass. He rumbled in approval as the warm hole swallowed the inches fed to it, until, eventually, the boy's own balls rested on Dova's abdomen, his cock jutting out of his sheathe and drooling pre. Marrus went to stroke himself, but Dova growled, claws digging into his son's thighs, "No touching yourself." Marrus whined, panting hard, "I want you to cum hands free."                 Dova lifted Marrus up, repeating what he did with the muzzle fuck, bringing himself out to the tip before dropping the boy back down hard onto him. Each time he hilted the younger male he was rewarded with a gasp and deafening moan that filled his ears. Sweat had beaded at both their foreheads, but neither cared as they rutted both wildly and lovingly. It was almost hypnotic to the older male to watch his cock disappear into the mutt only to slide back out so effortlessly, the tight feeling around him so perfect and hot. For Marrus, it was intoxicating to be so full, to feel every inch press out and drill him, moulding him to fit Dova entirely. Every ram tapped at his prostate, causing his cock to jump and throb, building to his peak. He couldn't last much longer at this rate, but whimpered as he realised he would be finished when Dova was finished.                 He came, more than a thousand times that night, he wasn't sure. Each time Dova would slur dirty words of encouragement, beckoning the mutt to cum again and again at his command. All the while, the dragon-shark hybrid never let up, shifting from position to position, changing the pace, all to drive the mutt over the edge again. It was possibly hours before Marrus began to see that Dova was struggling to contain himself, flattening his ears as his used ass was pounded harder than before. Darkness had almost fallen, and Dova let off a mighty roar that could be heard throughout all the camp as he came, shoving his entire length deep into Marrus. The mutt writhed and squirmed as hot seed gushed into him, bloating his gut with radiating heat. He could feel the course of cum slosh about him, and he moaned for the umpteenth time that night, cumming again over his already soaked chest. Panting breathlessly, he slumped on his back, Dova resting atop of him. His father kissed him lightly on the lips, staring down at the tired but content boy, keeping his cock buried in to the hilt as they calmed in the afterglow. "I love you son..." More to come?