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_ _ 28th of Maius, 8th year of Emperor Festavious

_ What depths shall we delve in the search for our own truth? What hells shall we endure in the hope that the flames will cleanse us of our failures? Severus; the path that has brought me here has been arduous and paved with trials you would have found trivial. I walk it now with the remnants of your troops, their unease at my command is overshadowed by their love for you, but I worry that even this has begun to wane._

_ What little loyalty I command from them was hard-won shortly after your capture. What sane warrior would entrust themselves to their former commander's slave-boy? Perhaps one day I will be free to share how I achieved this with you in person. Perhaps. Still, I am a fox; I am not of your world, but of the world that we now intrude upon. The forest's plutonian darkness has drained us, but we press on. Even beneath the pallid sunless sky we follow the tracks our prey have left. Broken branches, campfires, and trail markers more sordid than I care to share in these pages fan the glowing hope we hold in our hearts; it is our only defense against hopelessness._

_ The scouts have reported nothing of interest to us, but each day I send them ahead of our meager column of 130 wolves. Each night, they return to me downtrodden and fatigued, but each morning they disappear into the brush without complaint._

_ I hear them now._

_ May the Gods hold you as dear as I do, Severus, lest I turn my attention to their downfall in the wake of your death._

_ ~Ionius Severus_

"Sir." The single word prevented the betrayal of the contemptuous thoughts the wolf's face laid bare. Like many of the wolves the patience they had borne for Ionius, the Commander's fuck-boy, was wearing thin. Rumblings about the circumstances that had led to the fox's surprising elevation circulated in the column, and opinion was turning to it having been a mistake to trust the fox's promises; Ionius had paid it little mind, what else could he do?

"What have you found?" Ionius glanced up from the flame-lit pages of his journal. The cramped tent he had claimed as his own was packed with what little belongings the wolves had brought with them, including their food stores. Shadows slid along the rippling canvas walls, as though the air itself were attempting to sneak in to hear the conversation.

"Campfires, sir."

"And you felt this was impor--"

" Burning fires, sir." The wolf's tone grew pointed in its emphasis.

"Gods... we've found them?"

"As you say."

Ionius rose from his chair. The somber entry in his journal was forgotten, and the fox's mind turned quickly to the possibilities which lay before him. Had they found the main force? Was Severus truly to be saved this night? The wind howled its plaintive answer, branches little more than wavering shadows against the tent's walls, as though celebrating the news with some cryptic dance only they understood.

"Wake the men. Arm them. You have given me the honour of leading you, and now I will give you the honour of battle and victory." The fox looked up into the eyes of the larger male and noticed the change in them. Where had lain contempt and mistrust now burned eager flames. There would be battle this night; nay, there would be slaughter!

"Ad honorem." The wolf's stoic response preceded his rapid departure, and Ionius trembled as he watched the scout hurry to fulfill the vulpine's command. He could feel the familiar fear of combat boiling in his belly like the swill they had been serving as stew for the last few days; food was running low, but victory tonight may serve to sate that need as well as others.

Ionius donned his hauberk, fashioned from the stripped down remnants of a fallen wolf's armour. They had lost many to the tribes who lived in these woods, but there was a chance they would be reclaimed as well. The armour was ill-fitting--resized to fit the fox's smaller frame--but he wore it as best he could. Like his troops, the fox wore nothing to hide his lower-half, balls and sheath bare to the elements as he strode from the tent. The camp was in the throes of its own miserable awakening. Troops who knew only that they had been roused from their beds grumbled miserably, morale more scarce than fresh meat had become.

"Captains, to me!" Ionius held his voice as firmly as he could, unused to issuing commands and even less so in such circumstances. His nerves were buzzing, and his mind was swimming, but as he strode forward, even the hardiest of wolves made note of his apparent composure and straightened their own backs. Still, their eyes betrayed their doubts as surely as the scout's had, and Ionius was not blind to it. "We have found him!" There was no need to state who the fox referred to; blood boiled and wolves grinned viciously. Their beds, though warm, were now the last place they wished to be.

The moon hung heavy, sinking towards the distant hills as though weighed down by the apprehension which assailed Ionius. He had gathered the men and marched, the heavier pieces of their armour left behind in exchange for speed and silence. Their greenstone weapons hung by their sides, or were clutched in their hands, glinting in the few streams of moonlight which still pierced the canopy of trees above. Ionius looked down from a ridge and curled his lips in a mirthless smile; the fires were still burning, taunting the wolves with their flagrant light.

"Take half the men. Circle around to the flank. They'll likely have the prisoners closer to the heart of the camp, so we'll need to pierce deep if we're to secure our comrades." Ionius' voice hid the nerves that clenched his belly, 'and lovers' _ _his mind added, though the fox kept this to himself. "Watch for sentries, they're savage but not stupid" he hissed to the nodding captain; the large wolf turned and made his way into the gloom of the dying night. Ionius attention returned to the camp. There were nearly two dozen campfires, and an untold number of barbarians hidden in the darkness; this could get messy.

Clutching his greenstone gladius in one paw, the other caressed the battered hilt of Severus' rudius. He had saved the wooden weapon from fetid bile filled gut of the feral tiger Severus had defeated, and he would not rest until Severus held it once more.

"ATTACK!"

The cry surprised even Ionius as it tore from his lips. The wolves answered with a cacophony of howls, which rippled through the air before being replaced by the heavy plodding steps of their charge. The rumble of the earth beneath them had roused those in the camp who had somehow missed the howling, and bleary eyed barbarians stumbled from their makeshift shelters. Garbled cries of surprise, and angry orders echoed in the night. By the time the charging wolves had reached the edge of the camps only a fraction of the disoriented foxes and badgers had managed to arm themselves, their crude weaponry raised towards the oncoming wolves.

When the two forces met the sound reverberated through the woods. Bodies collided with bodies. Weapons struck shields. Greenstone met yielding flesh. The shrieks and howls of warriors striking down their foes, and being struck down in turn, was all encompassing. Ionius allowed himself to be carried away by it. His balls bounced heavily as he danced around the clumsy slashes of barbarian fighters, his dexterity saving him several times within the first minute of battle. As scared as the young fox had been to lead his master's forces, he found it doubled now. Instinct alone drove his body, his vision filled with snarling faces and weapons.

A badger nearby clutched at a greenstone blade that had connected with his gut. The wolf who wielded it pressed forward, stepping into the shivering bulk of his large opponent fearlessly as he growled in the vanquished barbarians clenched features. The weapon did not cut, but it laid the male out nonetheless. The badger's cock erupted in a gush of cum that glistened in the fading moonlight even as the barbarian toppled into the mud and dirt beneath him. A wolf nearby howled as a stone weapon drove him to his knees, the blunt impact of the heavy club tenderizing his ribs and leaving him helpless as a fox finished him with a slash of a stolen greenstone dagger. The male's hips thrust forward, his eyes wide as a submissive howl erupted from his muzzle, matching the thick arc of musky cream that pumped from his engorged prick.

Ionius lunged towards a dirt-speckled fox. The slightly larger near-feral male vulpine growling at the pampered prissy-boy that was attacking him, but Ionius ignored it. The guttural "traitor" that caught his ears was harder to ignore. Their weapons clashed and Ionius' arm quivered at the impact, but Severus' training served the fox well and he maintained his focus. The rudius he held in his off-hand came up and clubbed the barbarian in the side of his skull, throwing him off balance and allowing Ionius' greenstone weapon to slide deftly across his victim's throat. Though not lethal, the weapons were still heavy, and the impact left the defeated fox choking for breath, grasping at his throat even as his cock bounced and bobbed before dribbling out a thin trail of watery pre-cum. Ionius was enthralled by the look on the beaten fox's features, the surprise in the other male's eyes almost intoxicating. When the barbarian came, Ionius felt as though he were about to empty his balls as well! Sticky jets of fox-cum splattered in a line through the mud, streaking across Ionius' leg even as his victim fell to his knees before flopping face down in the dirt.

Bodies piled up quickly. A badger fell to a pair of wolves who had flanked the domineering mustelid. His paws swung uselessly towards the pair before one slid in to slash his weapon across the badgers ribs, and the other slammed his weapon into the large male's spine. More cum erupted in a violent torrent of humiliating submission, painting the bodies of the fallen until the badger joined them. A fox soon fell atop him, his cock still jutting upwards with cum oozing down its length; his dazed and expressionless eyes stared unseeingly towards the sky above.

Little by little the wolves pushed their poorly trained opponents back. For every wolf that fell, a dozen barbarians collapsed shrieking into the mud.

"GRAAAAAGH!" Another fox let out a helpless cry of lust and anger as he found his body locking up. The point of Ionius' weapon had been driven into the male's gut, and Ionius held it there. The struggling male growled and snapped at Ionius, but the smaller fox held his grip, his cock leaking pre-cum as he stared down the vanquished fighter. Finally, the beaten male came in a rush that filled Ionius with a power he'd never felt before. His foot came up, kicking the orgasming vulpine away to send him sprawling into the dirt with the others. Stepping over a deathly still badger, the fox looked for his next opponent.

A wolf nearby had fallen into the clutches of a particularly menacing looking badger, and even as the small fox watched, the struggling lupine was hoisted into the air and simply flung away, crashing to the earth awkwardly nearby. The badger scooped up a greenstone sword and turned his attention to Ionius. The wolves were spread out, and though they were gaining an advantage through their skill, their numbers didn't allow them to exert much pressure.

"SOUND THE CHARGE!" Ionius shouted over the din. A sharp earned wolf nearby heard the call and repeated it obediently, adding his deeper voice and larger lungs to the effort. The cry repeated several more times until it became the familiar sound of 90 pairs of feet crashing across open terrain. The sound bolstered the resolve of the remaining wolves, and shattered the remaining barbarian forces. The foxes were the first to falter, stepping away from the wolves who continued to press forward; a rout was brewing and the well-trained lupine forces could smell it. The reserve force struck like a thunderbolt, cutting into the wavering mass of unwashed bodies like a wave of resolute death. Foxes and badgers fell in droves, their shrieks melting into one another until there was only a single sound filling the ears of the survivors.

Ionius' attention was focused on the badger moving towards him. Too far from the flank to get much support from the fresh arrivals, Ionius prepared himself. Wolves caught up in their own little fights were ignored by the hulking brute; he had heard the small fox give the order that had brought the others, and though primitive, he was no fool. Ionius prepared himself, but was still caught by the crushing weight of a hairy arm as it swept towards the fox in an unexpectedly quick motion. Thrown backwards, the boy landed with a crash that left him gasping for breath. Mud splattered his bare legs and hips, his armor shining with the spent cum of those he'd struck down, and his own sweat. As he sought to right himself, the fox realized he'd dropped the rudius.

Above him stood the badger, hefting the greenstone weapon he'd taken from a fallen wolf and scowling down at his intended prey. The fox had been taken from the camps before he'd been old enough to learn much of the badger tribes' language, but even as the massive male growled out several short words at him, there was no need to translate the look of contempt in his eyes. The badger's heavy black-skinned cock hung heavily in the air, even erect it seemed almost weighed down by its own size, and the prospect of a final kill before he was forced to retreat seemed to excite the badger even further.

The weapon came down as surely as the moon would soon give way to the dawning sun, but despite his screaming mind and unresponsive limbs, the terrified fox avoided it. He rolled to the side, hearing the impact of the weapon in the mud beside him. Even if the weapons weren't lethal, the sheer strength behind that blow could have crippled the fox. He grasped for the handle of the rudius which lay nearby only to feel one of the badger's feet impact with his bare ass. Letting out a squawk of surprise, Ionius fell face-first into the muck. Embarrassment bloomed in his cheeks; the badger was playing with him!

Anger flared and helped focus Ionius' thoughts. His muzzle lay inches from the mud-obscured hilt of the rudius and grabbing for it the fox pushed himself up to a half-crouch before pushing himself back towards the badger. He expected to be slammed back down into the mud immediately, but the badger's overconfidence had become as useful as the fury in Ionius' heart. The male's reaction came half a second too late to stop the mud-smeared rudius from slamming up between his thighs. The badger's balls erupted in a pain reserved for only the most deserving, and his face lost all colour beneath his bristling black and grey fur.

"ARRRRRYUUUUU!" The outright howl of the injured male shook several combatants nearby but Ionius didn't miss a step. Wrenching the weapon from the weakened grasp of the badger's paw, Ionius balked at its weight before throwing his whole body into a swing that smashed it into the side of the badger's skull. The badger's howl stopped immediately, and he seemed to lose all sense of where he was. Blood trickled from where the weapon had impacted and even as his body reacted in an orgasm that had Ionius covering his face, the badger collapsed. He fell limply into the muck like a barbell being dropped to the floor, heavily. Ionius stood over the body, panting for breath with the rich musk of fresh cum surrounding him. The badger's leg twitched once then fell still; if there was still life in the body, Ionius couldn't be bothered to find it.

Whatever fight remained in the remaining barbarians was as shattered as surely as the badger's skull had been. They turned and fled, the slower amongst them finding themselves cut down from behind by pursuing wolves. They had tasted blood and wanted to quench their thirst as deeply as they could before the fighting was finished. Ionius did not pursue with his troops, the boy instead fell to his ass in the mud and watched them chase the barbarians clear out of the camp before ceasing pursuit.

They had lost more than Ionius had hoped they would, but their losses were not permanent and some could be ready after only a short rest. Those who would only slow them down could easily be brought back to camp to recuperate; they had succeeded, they had saved the prisoners! All that remained now was to find Severus and return control to him. The impending reunion was all the motivation Ionius needed to rise back to his feet, looking towards the barbarian camp even as the first tendrils of the sun began to creep across it.

The prisoner paddock was a ramshackle box, staked into the muddy ground and bound by rope that seemed be made from the hair of the barbarians' beasts of burden. Inside sat the bedraggled remnants of once proud wolves. Though only a week had passed since their capture, the wolves bore the marks of whips and torture like the graffitied statues of the Imperial Capital. They lay, or kneeled, in typical haphazard positions of those resigned to their abuse, but as Ionius approached they rose. Looks of surprise were marred only by an underlying mistrust; what was this? A trick? The signs of oncoming madness? It was only when they recognized the mud-spackled frame of the bedraggled vulpine servant that excitement tinged their empty expressions.

"Severus?" Ionius wasted no time. His eyes jumped from one bruised face to the next until he had exhausted his options; Severus was not here.

"Gone. Taken ahead with some others." The raspy answer came from a lupine who was pressed against the bars, as though hoping to squeeze through them somehow. "They left yesterday." Ionius moved towards the wolf, his stride masking the disappointment that tore at his guts. He wanted to cry, but instead grew stern.

"Which way?"

"North." The answer was simple, but the wolf looked taken aback. Locked up with his comrades, the wolf had no way to know the changes that had overtaken his regiment within the last week, and being spoken to so pointedly by a slave was beyond the male's ken. Ionius eyed the male, who grew reproachful under the fox's stare. "Why do you stare, slave? Who leads my brothers now?" Ionius' gaze lingered a moment longer before turning to one of the soldiers behind him; he was far too weary to argue.

"Prepare the healthy. We march north. Have the wounded returned to camp and have this cage dismantled. Tend to these men before returning them to the camp with the others. Once finished, take any well enough to march and follow us. Leave a skeleton guard on the camp to ensure its safety." The soldier saluted, his fist hitting his chest with a solid thump before he turned and headed to relay the fox's orders.

The sun had turned the muddy fields into a golden quagmire of dancing light as Ionius made his way towards the central tent of the encampment. Adorned with fur--taken from the pelts of fallen enemies no doubt--the tent bore a countenance which repulsed Ionius, but drew him into the shadowy confines of itself regardless. The smell of old meat, stale smoke, and sex greeted the fox's keen nose, and he choked on the smell briefly while waiting for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. A small fire smoldered in the corner, the tent itself protected by a barrier of stones that would have kept the controlled flames of the fire from burning it to the ground. A roll made of animal skins was heaped nearby, and as Ionius approached it, the smell of sex long since performed grew stronger; leadership had its benefits amongst the tribes it seemed.

"Where have you gone?" Ionius sighed out the question as he passively looked over the jumble of items which littered the floor. All of it was junk. As a breeze curled through the opening of the tent's entrance, shifting the stale air as it rolled its way through the tent, Ionius caught the flutter of parchment tucked amongst the animal skins the chief had used as a bed. Parchment? Here? Frowning, the boy plucked it up and marveled at the intricacy of the writing on it.

"Come home. Bring the leader. She demands it."

Home. That was what had drawn them north. Ionius' jaw tightened as he strode from the tent. If the barbarians were allowed to reach their home, Severus would be all but lost to the fox.

"We go north!" Ionius commanded loudly, his men already moving to follow the implied order within the simple statement. The wounded were being loaded onto carts the barbarians had been using to store their supplies, and Ionius felt a pang of jealousy that he could not go with them. There was more fighting to do, and while the thought screamed at him, he tried to stifle it lest he lose his nerve.

As the troops prepared for the coming march, already recovering from the rigors of the night's battle, Ionius found himself seated atop the ridge that he had been looking down at the camp from only several hours earlier. They would be ready to leave soon, and the fox absently watched his troops scurrying about the camp, securing supplies and forming into their ranks. The warm sun grappled with his weary mind, and the grass beneath him begged his head to rest upon it. This far north the winter still fought against the encroaching springtime, but today it wasn't putting up much of a fight. Birds trilled in the trees nearby and Ionius found himself lost in thought...

"What training do you possess, boy?"

Severus' voice floated into Ionius' ears, travelling along some invisible stream of time and space.

"I've been trained as an attendant, sir. I am to provide you with all luxuries befitting your station as a..."

His own voice joined it. And as if bidden by some subconscious magic, he could feel the slap on his cheek that had followed his younger-self's ill-advised answer.

"My station is of no concern to you, boy. Nor are the luxuries involved to be dictated to me by implication or otherwise. Now prepare my bath."

Ghosts five years dead haunted the fox's thoughts. When he had been sent to serve Severus as his personal attendant--eighteen at the time--the fox had been scared then too, but like now he saw little choice but to do as he'd been asked.

The steam is hot as the bath water slides into the basin. The fire several feet beneath the metal basin crackles. Ionius remembers his training when he had first been introduced to the idea of such a form of bathing. He had made a comment about soup and had been severely reprimanded for it; a mistake he had not made since. Now was no exception.

"It's prepared, sir!" He answers promptly upon the large wolf's entrance. A small glance from the bigger male was enough to silence the fox into sheepish subservience once more, and he backs away from the metal basin. The wolf strips his armour, revealing the powerful lines of his nude body. His balls hang heavy between his thighs, his cock half-erect with metal studs running along the underside as though a reminder of the rank and clout the lupine bore at all times.

"Strip, boy. Let me see what my accomplishments have earned me." His request is simple, and his intentions obvious. Ionius complies, his simple tunic pulled up over his head. He wears no loincloth beneath it, his own smaller prick rigid as though sensing that its time had finally come. His body is thin, almost girlish in contrast to the wolf's massive frame. "Good". The wolf's cock grows a little larger, a little firmer, a little hungrier. The male's eyes are on Ionius, he can feel them, and they grow stonier as the seconds pass. "Well? Did they lapse in their training of you? Or is there some reason why you just stand there."

Ionius jolts, his muzzle opens to answer but he knows the answer his new master expects is not a verbal one. He glides forward on whispering footpads, his small pink cock bouncing slightly with each step as he approaches the formidable length jutting from the wolf's hips. He hesitates... "I, shall I..." another slap. There was no malice in it, and despite the impatience on the wolf's face his words are corrective, not abusive.

"Tend to it before I bathe, boy. I wish the easement of my spirit before the easement of my muscles." Mistakes would be tolerated. For a time.

Ionius needs no second reminder of his new duties. His soft manicured paws slide around the studded shaft of the great wolf. The flesh is hot, and for a second Ionius imagines it steaming like the water waiting behind them. Plush tail swaying, the boy attempts his most seductive looks--awkward as they may be in their inexperience--as he slowly caresses the meat of his owner. The smell of the wolf's lust is pungent and unexpected, but the virgin fox coaxes the demanding shaft regardless; he had learned to pleasure, but had been forbidden pleasure of his own. He was to place the needs of his owner first. Still, Ionius feels the same hormonal needs embrace his tender body, driving his cock to ache and throb.

The wolf's eyes are closed as Ionius slips to his knees and closes his mouth around the tip of the commander's prick. He allows himself the luxury of thinking the gentle sigh that escapes Severus' mouth is of pleasure, and the fox busies himself in trying to draw similar sounds from the rigid wolf-male. The boy's tongue curls around the other male's shaft, driving his muzzle down onto it, impaling his face on the lusty spike of fragrant wolf-meat like a martyr throwing himself on his own sword. The studs grate against his tongue and teeth, each thrust of his muzzle drawing a series of little clicks which seem to help focus the boy.

His paws slide up Severus' legs, cupping the lupine's balls in one hand and delicately jostling them even as the other hand moves to grip the wolf's tailbase. He uses his grip to help speed up his thrusts, knees spread to maintain his balance on the floor. The moments pass slowly, only the sounds of the wolf's heavy breathing and the saliva-slickened slurps--joining the click of the boy's teeth--of Ionius' attempts to ease his master's burdens permeating the steam-fogged air. Ionius' head bobs and swivels, dragging Severus' tip along the inside of his cheek and treating it to every delicate touch his tongue can manage.

Salty pre-cum soon gives way to something new, something fuller and rich with flavour. It trickles onto the boy's tongue before soon erupting in an unexpected gush of creamy seed that coats the boy's gullet with its sticky warmth. Gasping out, the fox nearly coughs it up, the hand on Severus' balls tightening ever so slightly and inadvertently drawing a throaty moan from the climaxing commander. Thinking this an intentional move on his slave's part to help exacerbate the pleasure of his orgasm, the commander's heavy paw drops, curling in Ionius' headfur as he drains his balls into the young fox's belly.

"Ionius, was it? We..."

_ _ A voice drew Ionius from his memory-tinted daydream.

"What was that?" The fox murmured groggily, as though he'd been sleeping. His cock was rock hard, sticking up from his thighs and resting heatedly against his lower belly.

"I said we're ready to march, sir." The wolf betrayed no emotion one way or the other. As he looks down at the addled fox, the soldier's eyes are passive, his own cock half-erect as though it sensed the sexual excitement bubbling in Ionius' belly.

"Er... ah... yes... okay." Ionius rose to his feet, his prick still at full attention as he turned to head down the ridge to join his troops. This time they would succeed, but there were still matters to attend to before they could leave.

The wolves stood in their ranks, armour still splotched with mud in many cases, with cum in others. They waited patiently, staring stoically towards the line of kneeling prisoners ahead of them. There was no sound as Ionius approached the captured barbarians; there were five of them still in any shape to answer the fox's questions, and he knew that meant he'd have to ask his questions carefully. There was no patience left in the young vulpine, however, and as he approached the first--a grey furred fox, older than Ionius by several summers--he nearly spat out his words.

"Where did they take him?"

The grey fox's chest puffed out, looking up defiantly at his captor. "I no spe--" a nod from Ionius cut off the male's words, and a wolf positioned behind the prisoner drew a greenstone dagger across the male's throat.

"Grrrrak!" The fox's eyes widened, his words caught in his throat as he blew a magnificent load of musky cum into the mud in front of him. His cock barely had time to fully harden before it was gushing. Tongue pushing out from between his teeth, the male's hips bucked helplessly before he was shoved forward and left to topple face-down into his own puddle of impotently spent seed. The eyes of the remaining four prisoners followed Ionius intently now; their attention had been earned.

The next was a badger, and as Ionius approached him the large male tried to remain stone-faced. His shaft was half-erect, however, and as a wolf positioned himself behind the badger, that cock grew harder as though expecting the cool touch of green stone against him at any second. Tribal tattoos wound across the badger's bare chest, and his black prick oozed glistening pre-cum as Ionius considered him.

"Where did they take him?"

The badger hesitated. "East. To--" Ionius' foot shot out, slamming against the badger's rigid cock. The badger stifled a howl of pain as his hips pushed forward into the fox's bare footpaw, which ground against the larger male's unprotected length and balls. "North! North! To village!"

Ionius removed his foot, hiding the inward smirk he felt as he saw the badger was leaking pre-cum more liberally after that blow to his dick. He nodded to the wolf, and as the badger opened his mouth to beg for mercy he--like the fox before him--felt cold stone sliding against his unprotected throat. The male bucked frantically, his muzzle opening in a plaintive cry of humiliation as he found himself unable to stop from spraying a thick wad of cream into the air in front of him. Shot after shot of the fragrant liquid splattered into the mud, before the badger joined the fox as another unmoving lump facedown in the dirt.

A red fox trembled as Ionius stepped over the body of the badger and moved towards him. The boy was young, closer to Ionius' age than any of the others; that this had likely been his first taste of battle had Ionius' heart swelling with pity.

"Please! Mercy!" The boy was well endowed, adrenaline pumping through his veins and providing an erection that had the fox's cock sticking straight up against his white-furred belly. "I help! I help!" Heavy balls jostling with the frightened youth's movements, the fox looked to Ionius with wide eyes brimming with frantic near-panic.

Ionius wasted no time with this one. Though he could forgive the other's fear, he knew that fear was a poor foundation for loyalty... or trust. The wolf slit the boy's throat with the greenstone dagger and Ionius did not slow his pace as he passed the fox. Behind him he could hear the gurgling cry of the youth as he blew his load in a single glistening string of cum that painted his bellyfur and chest before he toppled to lay in the mud with his brothers.

The final two prisoners were badgers. The first three had been used as examples, and it would be with these two that the fox would rest his hopes with now.

"Which of you will take me north to the village?" Standing before them the fox found his voice did not tremble in the least; perhaps it was the fatigue, perhaps it was simple acceptance of his situation, but fear was no longer a factor in the boy's thoughts. His eyes jumped from one to the other, and they in turn looked to each other as though gauging what the other's response would be; submission or defiance? Whatever they saw in each other's faces, one of them clearly didn't like it.

"I will!" Seeing a chance to escape his situation, the burly badger jumped at the opportunity to ingratiate himself to his captors, if only to find opportunity later. The other badger snarled, "brathadair!" shouted before he was dispatched by the wolf standing behind him. His anger escaped in a throaty roar, his muscles spasming as the lust bestowed by the greenstone overtook him. He held on as long as he could, snarling and snapping before even the mighty warrior found himself helpless to stop the magnificent release of his potent cum. It pooled in front of him, running down the underside of his prick as his climax tapered off and he was thrown down into the mud.

"Take the prisoner and ensure he is well guarded." Gesturing to the four discarded prisoners, the fox added a simple, "Have the rear guard clean this up."

As the wolves moved to follow his orders, Ionius looked north towards the sun-dappled treeline. What lay behind paled to what lay ahead, and Ionius smiled despite himself. What a story all of this would make for Severus when he held his master in his arms once again.

"March!"