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The wombat waited with the most infinite patience in all of Arcadia as her father continued to berate her, stopping every so often to shake a paw at her, which she truly loathed. She was 24 and hardly a child, yet sometimes she could hate her father for the way he treated her. She tore her eyes away to avoid the incessant and spiteful paw-shaking, glancing out of the bedroom window and down to the courtyard, where a number of blue-and-white dressed guards stood watch over a giant iron gate rising up nearly as high as the second floor of the modest estate.

"Do you hear me, young lady?!" her father suddenly spoke up, and she was startled as if jolted from slumber, quickly focusing her attention on the elder white-furred wombat once more. That was bad. Causing her father to repeat himself would earn her no points in favor of her request.

"I...I am sorry, Father," she sighed and looked down glumly at her feet. "I was not listening."

He crossed his arms. "Of course not. I have made clear my feelings on the matter, so I shan't press the issue. You are forbidden to attend the banquet this evening." She started to say something else and he raised a paw. "I have told you, time and time again, we cannot take the risks of your being in large crowds, especially if we are together."

She bit at her lip sullenly, her green eyes flashing, and quietly replied, "Father, I know what you represent to Arcadia, and how important you are. But you are being stubborn. It is a masquerade banquet. Everyone will be masked, no one will know who anyone is and you are actually the host this time and-"

"Nemi, that is exactly why you cannot go," her father replied shortly, then turned around and headed for the door. "I will not be wearing a mask, as the nobles of Arcadia must know who each other are. Doubtless you are aware of the troubles we have had with the Wilfare family lately. We must be especially ever-vigilant against an uprising, a rush to sweep power from another family, perhaps even an assassination attempt." He paused at the door and looked at her. "I cannot let anything happen to you. You mean too much to me, and-"

"Oh, Father," Nemi started to say, coming towards him.

"...To my legacy and the name of the Vanders," he continued without missing a beat, "Without you, we would have nothing. Surely your future stepmother would take our hard-earned savings and marry another nobleman. You are the only one that can stand in her way. And you must prevail if I do not. You stand to inherit this castle and estate, and become the most powerful nobleman in all of Arcadia, paying homage to all the lords and acquiring more and more wealth and power. Remember, you are bound-"

"Bound by blood, yes, I know, Father." Nemi growled quietly, becoming more sullen by the moment. Her father cared nothing for her, which she knew all along, ever since he had betrothed himself to the upstart and resident whore Belinda Davenport. The wedding would follow the banquet a fortnight later, and word was King Windham himself was likely to attend. This was considered to be the highest honor in the kingdom, and Reginald Vanders took the acknowledgment very seriously.

He watched his daughter's face, and for a moment he could see her mother there. The girl was so much like her it was frightening. The same headstrong approach to life, without a thought for her own well-being. Green eyes that bore into the meek glances of the workers at the castle, demanding instant obedience. The way she would paw, in a bold manner of indifference, at a shock of light brown hair across her pointed ears whenever she was conversing. She was born into privilege and power, and knew hardly anything of the strife, toils and tribulations the people outside the gate endured daily - and the elder wombat aimed to keep it so.

"Now, prepare for your dinner. We shall speak no more about this." He slammed the thick oak door hard behind him, further establishing his point and sending a rush of air back to the girl.

Nemi flumped down at the foot of the four-poster bed, sighing deeply and looking at the vast array of fine arts that dotted the stone walls. The paintings, created with special inks and scrawled across parchment, depicted many grandiose landscapes; sunrises and sunsets above the ocean, towering cliffs that dwarfed teams of men and their horses battling their enemies in the valley; large, expanding fields of goldenrods harboring forest creatures, and even one showing the Vanders' castle, completely out of place floating on a large wispy cloud, surrounded by endless blue sky.

One painting, however, was the one she always looked at the longest. She got up from the bed and padded towards the wall, bringing a paw out to brush along the worn cotton parchment, staring at her picture. She had hesitated to paint herself in any of her works, partly because she did not want the rest of the castle's staff to think her vain, but this one was different. In it, she was in the spacious courtyard of the estate, dressed in a dark blue gown, the white bodice showing off impressive cleavage and a necklace of pearls and other precious stones. Moonlight rays reflected off golden and silver bangles on her wrists. Atop her head was a pointed black cap, the turned-up borders of which allowed her brown hair to cluster into thick curls on both sides of her face.

Nemi smiled softly as she studied the painting closely, seeing the trimmed green garden fade out to white at one side, and the moonlit night sky only half sketched, a combination of blues and blacks. The wombat's arms were angled and stretched out in front of her, and her head was tilted to the side, smiling brightly as her green eyes looked up at the floating white, body-less face of the partner she was dancing with. She had never finished the painting. The wombat had considered putting her father in the picture some months ago, after the terrible carriage accident that had claimed her mother's and brothers' lives, but now she dreaded the thought.

She glanced out the window again and saw the guards starting to prepare the long stone pathway with floral arrangements and lighted candles. Downstairs she could already smell the permeating, succulent scent of fresh-cooked kill. The wombat wanted very much to attend the affair, which would include delegates and nobles from all over Arcadia, along with their sons and daughters, who would then systematically mingle and chat with one another in the hopes of making a match, and thus strengthening their respective families, or even perhaps creating a new power shift. Her father feared this most of all, that some handsome wombat might fancy Nemi, coming from a family like the Wilfares, with which they had had an ongoing feud, and take her away from the Vanders. Not only would he lose a daughter, but the last remnants of his true bloodline, and under feudal law, would have to give up his estate, his wealth and basically his whole life to another family, bound into servitude for the rest of his days.

And Reginald Vanders would never accept that.

She looked at the unfinished painting and sighed. Every so often she imagined stepping into the picture, becoming part of the two-dimensional world she knew so well. She thought of clasping the paws of her unseen dancing partner, and letting him lead her around the courtyard, swaying and twirling, while the moon and stars in the heavens shone down upon them, as though blessing their joyous union. Her eyes were drawn again to the white, empty face, floating like a strange spirit, looking so much like a mask...

The scents were becoming increasingly hard to ignore, and her mouth watered with hunger. She could not bear to be cooped up in her bedroom for the evening, eating leftover kill and water, while the guests in the courtyard and great hall feasted to bursting, listening and dancing to the sweet songs of lutes, dulcimers and lyras. Nemi sighed and retreated from the door as she heard the latch lifting up, and a female wombat stepped inside with a wooden tray filled with steaming food.

"Your father suggested you not starve in your quarters," she announced gruffly, waiting for the wombat to make herself comfortable at a table before approaching her and setting the tray down with a slap. Upon it, she saw cooked kill, a mash of fruits and dried oats, and a tall cup of what she could immediately smell was fresh mead with honey. She looked questioningly up at the elder, who shrugged. "Maybe he felt bad about yelling at you. But it seems like that is all he does anymore. You are such trouble sometimes."

Nemi frowned and looked at her food, avoiding her derisive expression. "Thank you...Ms. Davenport..."

Belinda growled softly and reached down to hold her chin, forcing her gaze. "It will be "Mother" soon enough. Perhaps you should at least try to get used to it..."

Nemi looked up at her violet eyes and nodded morosely. "Of course," and then swallowed hard, making a face, "Mother..."

The elder smiled tightly and then turned to leave. "I will certainly be glad to become a permanent member of this family, and you will finally show me the proper respect and manners I deserve, Nemi." She paused at the door. "The guests should be arriving soon. Your father insists you stay in this room but I will have someone bring more food later, if you behave yourself."

Nemi nodded wordlessly and began eating as the door slammed shut behind Belinda. When she heard her footsteps going back down the main stairs, she trained her ears then to her window, listening to the sounds of a few carriages riding up towards the main gate. She got up from the table and looked outside. As a carriage approached, one of the guards would stop it, inspect a parchment handed to them, and then allow them to enter the open gates. She could clearly see some of the arrivals as they stopped in front of the castle and were carefully and respectfully escorted from the carriage. Even at this distance, she could recognize a few of the other families, some very respectful and kind to the Vanders like the Gilmores, and others, like the Wilfares, families deeply rooted in greed, corruption and violence.

As more carriages arrived, she became more curious as to the true complexity and size of the banquet, and could understand why it was such a momentous occasion for any nobleman. As her supper grew cold on the table, she watched as a smaller carriage approached. She could tell, for its size, obviously it was intended to transport one or two individuals at most.

The carriage stopped at the gate the same as the others, and a guard hurried over to speak to the occupant. As Nemi watched, the guard seemed to pause, staring strangely inside the carriage for what seemed a much longer time than normal. Then without taking any invitation at all, quickly motioned to the other guards to let the carriage through. As it stopped at the entrance, she saw a tall, dark figure emerge, wearing a dark coat over a festive white shirt and dark blue breeches. But what she noticed most of all was the blank, white and featureless mask he wore, covering most of his face.

She turned away from the window as a thought struck her, and looked back at the unfinished painting. Her eyes widened. She hurried over to the wall, staring hard at her work, and in particular, studied the solid white, featureless mask she had drawn on her unseen dance partner, and compared it to the one she had just seen on the stranger outside. They were quite identical; in fact to her, they appeared to be a match.

Quickly she ran to her wardrobe, rifling through several dresses before finally choosing a dark blue dress and laying it on her bed, then at the unfinished painting on the wall, showing her dancing in the glow of moonlight. It was not quite the right color, but close enough. She undressed in front of her mirror and gazed at her nude body, pawing slowly over her ripe breasts, the wide digits trapping her nipples between them. She began to churr softly, closing her eyes, dropping her paws down her form, caressing the thighs and hips. It was easy to see why her father wanted to protect her so. She would be a fine prize for any of the handsome, well-regarded wombats of the kingdom.

She turned and rummaged through a large oak chest at her bedside, opening compartments and drawers filled with trinkets and other odds and ends, before coming across a pair of bright silver ringlets. As she slipped them on over her wrists, she noticed a gleaming set of gold chains and pearls, and put those on as well. Nemi walked back to the unfinished painting and looked hard at it, then nodded in satisfaction before going back to the bed to dress.

When a younger chambermaid, wearing a black mask, arrived soon after with more food for her, Nemi looked positively stunning. Underneath the dark blue dress, a white embroidered, fleece bodice hugged just enough of her full breasts without allowing them to spill over. A feathered, black cap hid her long ears, and the sides of the cap were turned upwards, so luxurious light-brown hair could flow down her cheeks, becoming thick curls.

"Oh my goodness, Lady Nemi, you look just amazing," the chambermaid remarked, "But surely you cannot mean to attend the banquet. We have been given strict orders, you know."

Nemi sighed, "I must. Please...for just a little while. I just want to see the people, and perhaps one dance. I promise, no one needs to know I am gone, especially if you allow me to wear your mask for the time being. You can always get another..."

The young wombat frowned. "I do not know about this..." but reluctantly took off her mask and handed it to her.

Nemi grinned and slipped the silk covering over her face, her deep green eyes almost glittering from the two holes. "There. Now Father will not know me. As long as you stay quiet about this?" She ran a paw over her curls, looking smug. "After all, if he found out you disobeyed, you would likely be disciplined yourself."

The girl wombat looked sheepish. "I...I promise, m'lady." She steeled herself and added, "I will even keep him busy for you, with drinks and discussions when I can. But the affair ends at midnight. You must be back inside your bedroom before he comes upstairs to check on you before sleeping."

Nemi nodded as she sat on the bed and laced leather boots over her feet. "I will not forget." She stood up and glanced once more at the painting. "I would just like one dance...and then I can complete this painting..."

**

Veldazin Moore shuffled his feet back and forth on the herb-strewn wooden floor, watching silently as people milled about him in fancy dresses and accoutrements. Some spoke of families and trips to other countries, others laughed and remarked over occupational hazards and the many disadvantages of being wealthy.

The black jackal brushed aside someone about to enquire about the strange white porcelain mask that covered most of his face and snout, and moved swiftly to a large oak table, where drams of mead, ale and carefully-preserved wine were being served in gold chalices. He stopped after a few sips, reminding himself of his need to stay sober and steady for his appointed task, and glanced casually around the great hall, seeking his target.

The killer was patient and calculating. For many years he had honed his skills with the blade, be they swords or daggers, in the deepest forests of Ardia. The fact that he had lived so long on his own, void of friends or even bare acquaintances for most of his life, allowed him to become indifferent, even desensitized to agonizing screams of pain and torture as he killed. There was indeed no one important in his life at all. He had grown up as an orphan, after his parents were killed senselessly in a brutal attack - while he himself lost his sight for most of his early childhood. However, through magic and the dark arts, he was able to see again, but with limitations.

His first act upon regaining his sight was to deal with those who had taken it and his parents away from him so young. That particular score was settled when he was hardly a teen. He had enjoyed seeing the other jackals' eyes filled with fear, pleading for their lives even as he brought down the blade upon them. It was not long after that he saw killing as much more than an act of vengeance. It was only natural that he become a hired killer; he was so good at it. If he took off his mask and allowed them to look into his eyes, they would become immediately afraid, or driven to the point of insanity. The kill was usually easy after that.

A few loud voices pulled him from his thoughts, and he saw the nobleman Reginald Vanders carousing boisterously with a small group of smartly-dressed female wombats, who pretended to cling to every word he said, giving him moony stares. A few feet away from him, Belinda Davenport folded her arms and scowled. Veldazin could not help but chuckle softly. The only thing those women wanted from the old wombat was his wealth. The jackal, of course, wanted something much more valuable to him. His paw dropped down, stroking through his breeches and feeling the comforting hardness of the iron blade tucked inside, and then caressed the small belt at his hip, holding at least a pound of gold in a small cotton bag. While he cared nothing for the Wilfare family, they were at least true to their word about payment upfront.

However, it did mean that failure in his task was not an option.

He watched the old wombat rubbing elbows and other body parts against his lovely companions, enjoying the last few scraps of his bachelorhood before the Davenport joining. The jackal turned away from the group and his eyes caught another lovely image. Against the far wall, there was a beautiful painting, at least three meters long, and splashed across the burlap canvas was a charming scene of a quaint countryside. Surrounded by the endless field of goldenrods, a large stone castle towered, its turrets stretching into the deep blue sky. Surrounding it was a large moat, with a bevy of birds and other exotic creatures flying above or diving into the clear water, some coming away with fish in their beaks.

"Do...do you like it?" He heard a soft voice close to him, and turned to see another wombat, dressed from head to toe in deep blues, wearing a black mask across her face, showing only glittering green eyes filled with warmth and eagerly seeking approval. At first, he noticed her shy away a step as he faced her, but then just as quickly it seemed she caught herself from looking too long at the shining white mask he wore, or the featureless eyes beneath it.

"I do..." he answered quietly, a little taken aback by the beauty of the young female. "Did you create this?"

The wombat's eyes quickly widened and she shook her head hard. "Oh no, no I did not. I just...I have been admiring it since I arrived. It reminds me of childhood dreams. Stories told to me by my mother, of faraway lands and magical places, filled with adventure. The castle there looks a lot like this one, as I am sure you agree. And I really love the way the water flows around it, as though to protect it, or to nourish it somehow, and keep it clean and pure..."

The jackal smiled, enjoying the young lady's quiet, almost whisper-soft tone. "Aye. I have had dreams of a castle like that myself." He looked at the painting again. "I am called Veldazin Moore."

"Nemi...er...Nemiah. Nemiah Pressman."

"You are here alone, Nemiah?"

The wombat bit at her lip. "I...I have a family...at home. Only I could come. They are ill."

Veldazin smiled and turned again to look at her. "And yet you are well. How fortuitous."

She toyed with a few curls against her cheek nervously. "Yes, I suppose my body is better prepared to fight against those sicknesses that befall my family."

Veldazin watched the wombat prim for him and nodded. "Then your family must know the Vanders," he pointed towards Reginald, "are the Pressmans close? Perhaps you should introduce yourself...?"

She swallowed hard and then shook her head quickly. "Oh no, I could not do that. I...um...he does not know me, really. He knows my, um, my father. Y-yes. I remember now. They do business together, mostly trading. Please forgive me. I do not get outside of the castle very often. I mean, the house." Inwardly Nemi face-pawed, wondering how much longer she could speak without revealing herself.

As if to save her from further embarrassment, the sounds of dulcimers and flutes soon filled the great hall, adding beautiful slow-moving music and bringing the rampant chatter to a halt. At once, people milled around, finding their partners, and began to dance.

Veldazin surprised himself by taking the wombat's paw gently. "If Lady Nemiah would be pleased, I too am alone here. I...would like very much to dance."

Nemi's heart pounded but she managed to maintain her composure, nodding and squeezing her digits around the jackal's. "I would be pleased, Lord Veldazin..."

The jackal smiled and led the wombat over towards the group, close to where her father and his female companions were taking turns to be led. "No," Nemi suddenly pulled, stopping the jackal. "Not...I mean...not so close to all these people, please?" Seeing his confused expression, she added hastily. "I am just over my illness, you see. It would be best if we danced...elsewhere." She turned towards the back of the great hall, leading to the spacious and open courtyard. "What about out there? It is a lovely evening. The moonlight is just right..."

Veldazin smiled. "As the lady wishes." As he led Nemi towards the open air, he chuckled, "You certainly know your way about the castle..."

Nemi blushed under her mask. "Oh, I have been here before. My...family is close to the Vanders, as I have said." She stepped past him onto a hard clay pathway leading to a stone dais and flowing fountain, and beyond that a large, spacious red-bricked area, surrounded by several small structures housing weapons, food and various supplies like wood for fires and fresh cotton for dress-making.

They were still within ear-shot of the soft music inside, and Nemi lifted her arms and clasps paws with the jackal's, allowing him to lead her in a dance, their bodies pressed close together and swaying back and forth. Even standing on her boot-tips, her head only came up to his chest, and so she nestled her muzzle there, brushing her cheek against the silk shirt he wore.

"And where is your family?" Nemi sighed softly, closing her eyes.

"I really do not have one. I grew up alone, in a village not far from here. Much of my days were spent in the nearby forest, learning to survive on my own."

Nemi lifted her head to gaze up at him. "Have you no one to call your own?"

"They were killed," came the reply, and his large paw came down to press against the small of her back. "But I made do. I am far from nobleman status but-"

Nemi interrupted with sweet laughter. "Oh, perish that thought. You do not want to be a nobleman."

"Oh?" The jackal looked down at her and smiled, showing gleaming white teeth. "And why not, lovely wombat?"

"Because," she slowly pulled away from him and smiled. "You would be bound by blood, as I have been. Your status and your wealth would supersede the love and care of your family. You would become cold, and heartless and...calculating..." Tears started to form in her eyes. "And...and very cruel to your children. You would wall them up inside their own rooms, powerless, without any chance at...at..."

The jackal walked slowly to her, sliding his arms around her back and nudging the top of her head until she gazed up at him again. "I would never do that," he spoke gently, stroking her back and getting her to churr again. "Least of all to someone like you..." He glanced back inside the castle, where one of the ladies near Reginald had convinced the old wombat to dance with her. "So...is your father like that now? Where you are from, I mean?"

"Yes," she whispered, pressing her nose to his chin to nuzzle. "He...he keeps me locked away. Unable to meet or greet any of our visitors. And when we actually step outside the castle gates, I am so surrounded by armed guards at times, it is near impossible to catch a breath of fresh air. All I truly have from the outside world are my paintings..."

The jackal looked down at her again, suddenly startled. "Paintings? Then...the one you were admiring in the hall. The field, the castle...?"

Nemi swallowed hard. "That is mine, yes. I...I painted it several months ago. My mother and father thought it was so beautiful. And then when she and my brothers died, my father became a tyrant, paranoid and angry."

Veldazin looked beside himself. "You...you are Nemi Vanders..."

The wombat smiled and got up to her toes again to brush her nose along his chin. "Our secret? My father would certainly kill me if he found out I was not in my bedroom." She took his paws again into hers and started swaying with the music once more. "I just wanted...well, it will sound quite silly to you..."

The jackal shook his head slowly, still a bit surprised. "By now, dear Lady Nemi, nothing would sound silly."

"Well," she sighed deeply, "there is an unfinished painting upstairs in my room. I painted myself dancing in the courtyard, much as we are now. And moonlight shines down on me, and I look so happy. I just...I never knew..." She ran her tongue across her lips. "I never really painted the one I was dancing with."

Veldazin began to laugh softly at first, and then it became louder, and Nemi had to quiet him finally with a paw against his mask, trying to keep from giggling as well. They did not speak for a while, but continued to dance as the moonlight above shone down on them.

Presently, the music stopped and everyone inside started to applaud. Nemi squeezed the jackal's paw gently. "We should go back inside, before we are missed. And...before my father decides to check on me. The banquet ends at midnight."

"If Lady Nemi would allow me, I can distract your father while you go upstairs. I have...business with him that I must attend to anyway..."

Nemi nodded. "Of course. That would be most kind."

"On one condition? I would like to see the unfinished painting..."

The wombat's eyes widened. "But...but how would you be able to-"

The jackal smiled. "Wait until midnight. I will knock at your door. Your father will allow me, I promise you."

Nemi looked uncertain but nodded slowly. "Alright, Veldazin. I trust you...for some reason. I will wait for you..."

The couple came into the great hall just as the music started up again. Veldazin gave the girl's paw one more squeeze before letting her go. "I will signal you when it is safe to go upstairs." He left her side, walking over to Reginald and quickly shaking his paw, turning the wombat so that his back was to Nemi. As he engaged in conversation with the nobleman, he glanced over at her and quickly nodded.

Nemi smiled gleefully and walked swiftly to the staircase, looking back over her shoulder at the jackal and winking as she went upstairs.

**

Nemi sat on the bed, trying to collect her thoughts. She had not bothered to undress, save for her boots, and realized how much her feet ached now. But the pain was welcome, almost a pleasure for her, because it meant that what had happened tonight was real. She got up from her bed, wringing her paws nervously, and looked across the room to the unfinished painting.

The recent memories of music, dancing and conversation all came at once, filling her with sudden desire she had never known before. As she stared at the unseen partner in the painting, she smiled brightly, suddenly excited, and hurried to the chest beside her bed, taking out several small vials of different colored inks.

As she spread the vials out before her and laid the unfinished painting down on the floor, she thought she heard a strangled cry in the distance and glanced outside her window. One of the guards was looking curiously back towards the castle, but made no move from his post. Convinced she and the guards had heard nothing, she sat down on the floor, crossing her legs. As the glow of moonlight stopped streaming from her window and left her room in total darkness, she lit a single candle, set it down next to her on the floor, and began to paint.

**

She was just about finished when she heard a soft knock come from her bedroom door, causing her to shift her legs and knock over the candle, extinguishing it. Blindly she got up from the floor, feeling her way across the bedroom and to the latched door. "F-father...?"

There was no answer.

She steeled herself and reached up, unlatching the door and allowing it to slowly creak open. Veldazin, his masked face lit by the small candle he held, smiled at her. "Lady Nemi, may I enter?"

The wombat's face lit up almost as brightly as the candle as she hugged around his waist tightly and nuzzled his chest. "Of course. But how did you ever-"

"Your father was very understanding and has gone to sleep. Ms. Davenport as well," he replied shortly and brushed past her, padding on bare feet to the far wall, marveling over the wombat's past work. "This is just exquisite, my dear Nemi. You should make this your profession."

Nemi smiled and sat on the edge of the bed, watching him. "Perhaps some day. When I am free of this place."

He finally stopped and knelt beside the painting on the floor, seeing a grand likeness of himself dancing with the wombat in the moonlit courtyard. "I am amazed and honored, Lady Nemi," he swallowed hard, gazing up at her before standing up to approach the bed, setting the candle down by her bed-side. "I...I could not wait to see you again..."

Nemi bit at her lip, and her green eyes were shining. "Nor...nor I..."

He slowly unbuttoned his chemise, and unbuckled his breeches, watching the wombat the whole time, as Nemi got up from the bed and started to undress as well. Her paws shook quite badly as she started to undo her bodice, and the jackal pressed against her, easing her fears at once with a soft kiss. "Nemi...I..."

She shushed him with a paw to his mouth and smiled, reaching up to remove the last of the jackal's clothes, the white porcelain mask that covered his face. For a moment, she was frightened, seeing the black, empty eyes that looked back at her, but as he smiled at her, she churred and smiled back, brushing her nose against his chin. "I am...I mean, I have never..."

And then he was lowering her carefully onto her bed, covering her with his body, kissing her mouth deeply for several sweet moments, enjoying the taste of her. Her legs hugged around his waist, suddenly needing, eager for his heat, but he relented in his desire to keep her wanting. He bent his head down, taking slow, careful licks across her aroused pink nipples, surrounding them with his lips and then his teeth, nibbling and tugging until she was moaning.

"V-Vel..." she whispered, and her ankles crossed around his firm buttocks, trying to trap his tail. Her paws clung to his back, the sharp claws digging into his black fur. He lifted his head to kiss her again, bringing his paw down between her legs, and she felt the warmth and softness of his digits as they explored her cunny. "Ohh...yes..."

In time, the wombat was ready, her sex glistening, almost dripping with the permeating scent of pheromones, rivulets of her juices dribbling into her netherfur. His digits pushed once more into her, ignoring her startled cry as blood slowly seeped from her, her hymen broken, allowing the deepest penetration she had ever experienced.

Veldazin withdrew his digits from her, kissing her with demand and fervor as he hiked himself up atop of her again, his thick, hard shaft brushing across her thigh, the sheath throbbing and testicles swollen. Nemi bit at her lip against the pain as the jackal pushed slowly into her, her eyes widening and then closing tightly as more and more of his length settled into her. Instinctively, she squeezed, wet, hot cunny muscles clenching and releasing in succession, in perfect rhythm with her hot and heavy breath against his neck.

The jackal thrust himself against her, pounding his flaring tip upwards and forwards, his sex exploring her newly-opened depths, filling her completely. His full testicles constantly mashed against her cunny, becoming hotter with each contact. It took scarcely another moment before the wombat climaxed, hugging her legs tightly around the jackal, riding his waist through one orgasm after another, each one causing her whole body to shudder uncontrollably beneath his. By the time she reached her peak of lust and pleasure, she was screaming his name.

"Ohhh..." she churred deeply, still trembling around his body, "Vel...Vel...that was...nothing like I had thought, not...ever..." She felt his length slowly pull from inside of her, titillating her clit as the swollen knob brushed across the sensitive flesh. "Mm...oh...I must release you..." She unhooked her legs from around him and rolled to her side, kneeling up on the bed and kissing the jackal passionately as she pushed him down onto his back and nestled into his lap.

"Nemi..." the jackal whispered, feeling the wombat slowly rubbing her wet folds across his member in several firm strokes. "I need...to...tell..."

"Shush, my love," she whispered, stopping his words with another sweet kiss. She lifted her hips slowly, working his member easily into her body, and then sat down upon him, crying out as new pain washed over her. As it subsided and faded, she knew only exquisite pleasure next, and bobbed her hips, bracing her toes on the bed and following his upward thrusts. They panted against one another, trading kisses, as she slid her warm, tight cunny up and down across his rigid shaft, agitating the hard flesh into a throbbing, spasming shaft aching for release.

The jackal's paws came around her hips, trying to guide her, but she slapped them away, bringing her own paws up to his shoulders to squeeze as she bounced harder and faster on his sex. "Almost...ohh...just...a bit more...ohh, Nemi..." His encouraging words were music to the wombat's ears, and she stepped up her pace, her breasts bouncing against his muzzle, getting a few quick tongue-licks and kisses.

Suddenly the jackal let go of her hips and fell back onto the bed, moaning loudly, and Nemi pressed her paws against his chest as she let out a loud scream of pleasure, cumming wildly over her lover's sex, drenching it in fresh juices. Veldazin had just enough time to feel the trickle of heat against his loins until he too lost control of his senses and climaxed hard, spurting a few quick jerks and then several long streams of his seed upwards and deep into her body.

Nemi felt that heat and gripped hard at his chest-fur, riding his orgasm slowly, milking every drop as it spattered, wetting her fully. Finally, she collapsed against his chest, breathing heavily. "Vel...Vel...oh...ohhh... I am completely drained...I..." She nuzzled his broad pectorals, giving them each a few kisses. "Ohh...I just know my father will be here any moment...and..."

"Nemi," Veldazin replied softly, still panting, "Please...l-listen to me..." He waited until she moved her head up to look at his face. "Your father...he will not come..."

Nemi blinked a few times. "What do you mean?"

"He is dead. I stabbed him, and Ms. Davenport as well. The guards will not find them until morning." Quickly he continued, reaching for her paw as she shook her head slowly in disbelief. "I was sent here by the Wilfare household. They ordered me to make an example of the Vanders family. To destroy the very essence of their estate, every last shred of any semblance of family." He swallowed hard, looking into her eyes. "They wanted me to kill-"

"No," Nemi gasped, trying to pull away. "It cannot be true. Why my father? He is no threat to anyone! He-"

"Not your father," Veldazin sighed, and touched noses with her. "You, Nemi. I...I was sent here...to kill you." As the wombat stayed speechless, he added hastily, "With your death, the last of the Vanders' family would fall into ruin. Reginald Vanders would be forced from his estate, and under law, could not marry into the Davenports' family. He would be...nothing. Nothing but a servant to the household who offered the highest bid, for the rest of his life."

"But you killed him instead..."

The jackal looked hurt as his black eyes slowly leaked tears. "Yes...because I fell in love with you tonight. When I found out who you truly were, I was completely beside myself, fighting with so many emotions. And then, when you told me about the painting, the one you had not finished, and described it so vividly to me, I saw it as a sign that this was somehow our destiny..."

The wombat pursed her lips as she sat up on the bed, looking at him not too unkindly. "Perhaps we were. But that still does not give you the right to end my father's life."

"Yes," the jackal looked steadily at her. "I have done an evil deed. Nemi, the guards are just there, outside your window. You may call to them, and have them come for me. I will not put up a fight, and no one else will be hurt. Your father is not the first of my victims, but you can see to it personally that his is the last life I ever take."

Nemi got up slowly from the bed and looked up at the wall, where her finished painting now hung, awash in the waning glow of the candlelight. Veldazin's porcelain mask seemed to glow from it, offering a delightful contrast to her dark blue dress as the couple enjoyed a romantic dance under the watchful eyes of the heavens. They looked so happy together.

She turned from the wall and padded naked slowly to the bed, standing before him like a vision. "It is...six hours until the sun rises," she said quietly, folding her paws in front of her. "How far may we travel?"

Veldazin stared at her stupidly. "I...we?"

And then Nemi smiled softly, kneeling beside him on the bed. "Get your clothes. Let me just put a few things in a chest, and we can get past the guards. I will simply say you are a straggler from the banquet, having just found your sobriety. And then..."

The wombat stopped, thinking about the life she could have with the jackal, always running, never staying in the same place, fugitives from justice. The thought terrified her, and yet, excited her. For the first time, she had a chance to look at the world through more than her imaginative two-dimensional view. There was a chance now to see everything she had painted, to see them before her very eyes, to be able to reach out and actually touch the crystal blue ocean, to smell the luxurious scents of the goldenrods and flowers in the fields, to see herself inside a beautiful, spacious castle of her very own, looking upon the babbling river surrounding it, watching her young at play.

"Nemi?" Veldazin held her paw and then kissed her softly.

She smiled, shaking her head. "Let us be on our way, jackal. We have one more stop to make before we leave Arcadia behind us forever..." She got up from the bed and started to dress quickly.

"Where is that, my love?"

Nemi's green eyes suddenly turned dark. "Why, to the Wilfares, of course. I would like you to personally...thank them...for my new-found freedom..." She picked up the candle and blew it out.

Veldazin looked at her fondly, and in the darkness their cold smiles glowed.

END