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Chapter 16: In the Forest

They left the day and entered the night, or so it seemed. The foliage was dense to the point that hardly much light penetrated the canopies. Few rays every so often, of course, streamed in, and they shown through like tiny lasers. It was enough for them to see, after their eyes had adjusted.

He did not know that such a place existed here. The grass was gone, instead of it was soil and dead branches and leaves, decomposing to give their nutrients to the surrounding life. He heard birds above him and all around. Aside from that, he did not hear or smell any other animals.

On occasion he found a piece of litter. It reminded him that they were not in a real forest, yet the further they went into it, the more it seemed like it. He commented on it, and the wolf agreed that it was unusual, if not the miniature forest, at least that they did not know of its existence.

They reached the edge, and it came up to a small concrete ledge. They could see the other side of the park and a road. The magic was ruined, so they turned back and delved into the forest.

They found a spot and sat down. The fox was first to sit against a tree, and he gave a soft, disheartened sigh as the wolf sat next to him, to his left. He had hoped perhaps that they would put a little bit of distance between themselves, if only for his own sake.

Yet part of him was a bit glad. He could feel the wolf to his side, his breaths in contrast to his own, his tactile senses enhanced by the reduced visibility that the environment created. There was little wind in the area, so he could only feel the things immediately around him.

He could smell Hunter. He could not earlier, and he just attributed it to his physical prowess which allowed him to perform like he did without exerting much effort. With almost no effort, of course, he would not have sweated, at least not as much as the fox did, yet it seemed he had a bit. It was faint, but it was there.

The fox welled up again, his emotions starting to emerge physically. He struggled against it, but finally decided to let it be, since it was dark and it would be concealed, if in visibility, then also in scent, since he already smelled of exertion, and it would mask his lust. However, he accidentally let out a low whimper, which he caught half-way. He hoped the wolf had not heard.

He did, however. Hunter turned his head to look over, but could barely catch an outline of the fox. He asked, "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Roger laughed awkwardly, placing his tail on his lap to conceal the evidence if there were any. He responded, "Ah, my arm is just sore, that's all. No big deal."

He could feel the wolf calm down from his words. Much of the wolf's feelings were betrayed by his motions, if not already obvious from his speech and tone. He did not seem to hide too much from anyone, or perhaps he just did not hide from the fox.

Roger played the idea through his head a few times, and then discarded it. All thoughts that floated around eventually lead to darker places, and thus he repressed them. He stretched his legs out in front of him, the slight movements he did causing him to brush up against the wolf's side. There was no reaction.

He stretched the arm he used to throw with, and indeed it was sore. He had used it as an excuse, but there was truth in it. He still had a shoulder against the wolf, so he could feel if he left.

He felt a sharp pain in his arm, though, as it cramped up. He winced and made a low noise of discomfort, which caused the wolf to react. He inquired about his condition again, to which the fox responded, "Just a cramp, it's nothing."

He heard movement to his side, then in front of him, and then to his other side. He saw a shadow moving about, and then felt his arm gripped gently, but firmly at the same time. There was pressure all around it, and his arm felt slightly better.

He let the wolf massage his arm and relaxed, sliding down slightly, yet still against the tree. He sighed and said, "Thanks."

Hunter spoke, while not ceasing his actions, "Don't want you to get hurt."

Roger closed his eyes. There was no purpose in keeping them open anyhow. The pain he felt in his arm was gone, and now it felt warm and somewhat numb. He liked it for the most part, but the absence of pain there only made him more aware of other feelings.

He extended his legs again, stretching them. They were not sore, but they felt slightly stiff. He was not out of shape by any means, but keeping up with the wolf was taxing on him, especially when he had longer legs for longer strides.

He felt a paw on his leg, and then two. His arm was to his side. He had not even realized the transition or his arm's placement from being distracted with the wolf's paw on his leg. He blushed heavily and opened his mouth to protest, but did not. He felt the pressure spread across his calf, squeezing it where it seemed to be needed, and the stiffness seemed to flee. His leg began to warm and ease, and then the wolf moved to the other leg.

Roger let out a breath and murred softly under his breath. He had never gotten a massage before, and now wished that he had. His limbs, aside from his non throwing arm, felt much better than they had in a long time. The wolf seemed to know what he was doing.

He felt a paw move to his thigh, and then the other paw was placed on the inside of it. It squeezed it gently, rubbing it softly in some places, firmly in others. The fox's attention snapped back to the situation, and he blushed furiously as a certain portion of him began to swell. He wanted to say something against it, but it would only incriminate him. He knew that the wolf had no ulterior motives, yet part of him hoped for them.

He unintentionally moved his legs apart, or at least he believed it to be unintentional. If the wolf knew of how the fox currently felt, he made no acknowledgment. He gave no hints, and as open as the wolf was, the fox trusted that he still did not know.

The wolf moved to the other leg and rubbed his thighs. Roger's mind began to fog, and he part of him wished to escape the situation, to run away from it. The other part of him, merely wished to escape his clothes.

He whimpered softly, beginning to feel desperate in his lust. The wolf reacted to the sound, withdrew, and responded, "I'm sorry, did it hurt? I didn't mean to hurt you...."

Roger's focus returned. "Ah, n-no, it's nothing. Just... the way I'm sitting, that's all."

He slid back up against the tree and hid behind his tail, yet it was merely from gesture and not practicality. The wolf moved back to his side and sat again, after clasping his shoulder and giving it a pat.

The fox sighed. It seemed the crisis had been inadvertently averted. Still, part of him that made itself so apparent to him wished that there had been a different outcome. He cast away the thought.

He stared into the darkness and focused. He realized he needed to get out of this place, lest he lose himself. If not to the forest, then to the wolf.