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Winter brandished harsh, charging blizzards in the Saramende Wilds. Days of sunless flurries pushed in quick as floodwaters until the long plains became a sea of snow. When those first storms of the season finally broke, a still blanket of frost left the plains locked in time. Aside from the nomadic Tibax and their elk herds, nothing crossed the long snow dunes except the shadows of Saram's mountaintops when the sun set.

Pavel crouched on a stump, legs a little stiff while his pointed ears twitched, changing slight directions while he listened. Beneath the wind rustling the arctic fox's fur, he listened for slight movement under the snow. He heard it ten feet to his left, and his lithe body sprung off the stump. He ploughed into the packed snow, fist punching into what felt like a hollow. Two, front teeth bit his paw, and Pavel cursed before he shook his prey off and grabbed it by its scruff. He yanked the animal from the snow and it came kicking and thrashing. It was called a jackdin and looked like a mix between a rabbit and squirrel. Pavel's stone knife waited in his other hand, and sliced the jackdin's throat. Steaming blood spilled onto silver snow.

Pavel sighed as the struggling stopped. He checked his paw and saw the bite did not go too deep. He licked some of his blood from a paw pad before he went to work digging out the jackdin's burrow. Inside he found a cache of nuts, which he scooped into a leather satchel slung around his back. He climbed out of the now waist deep snow with his catch and returned to the stump where his elk hide cloak rested nearby with his pack. He donned both and began padding across the icy crust of snow back to his village.

***

The village of Breedesh was one of dozens of Bree settlements scattered along the northwestern border of the Saramende Wilds. Just beyond the foothills of the Saram Mountains, the village of anthro vulpines built their homes beside a now frozen stream, with the dens half buried in the snow. The smattering of buildings were made of mud and timber taken from the foothills, and consisted of three levels: one permanently dug into the ground, one submerged in the snows come winter, and a top level that usually stayed above the snow and ice.

The snowfalls were so heavily packed that the fleet-footed foxes could easily paw across the surface once the snows settled into an icy crust. Pavel returned with his catch as the sun set, climbing through the open door his extended family claimed as their den. Their tribe slept twenty foxes to each building, so warmth was never an issue as their body heat kept dens warm and earth and snow insulated their homes.

A ring of holes built into the floor and ceiling of the den ventilated smoke for a fire pit at its base. From it, Pavel smelled fire and slaughtered goat roasting on a spit. Pavel returned expecting to see the friendly faces of his kin, but instead heard much talking, jeering, and shouting below. The young fox shut the entrance to the den and took the stairs down that wrapped around the structure. Each floor barely topped six feet, as most of the Bree were small in their size. Pavel himself was only 5'4", normal for a vulpine but short for an aspiring warrior. There were so many foxes crowded in the bottom floor that they climbed up the stair and Pavel could not actually go into the room, instead having to poke his head over a vixen's shoulder to see what was going on.

Adorned in dirty, white clothes sat a dark skinned human taller than any of the foxes in the room. The chief of their tribe, who Pavel picked out by the grey wolfskin pelt he wore, sat next to him, talking animatedly with the man. It was rare to see a human in the village. More rare, was the human spoke to the chief in Bree. He seemed to be sharing a story of his travels, but the general din of the room made it difficult to pick apart the details.

With a claw, he prodded the back of the vixen behind him and asked, “What's going on?"

The vixen turned and Pavel recognized by the black splotch on her cheek it was his cousin Kavatchka. Her muzzle split into a grin. “Oh Pavel! Thank goodness your home." She grabbed his wrist and called out to the room, “Pavel is home!"

Much to the young fox's chagrin, several vulpines in the room cheered at his arrival while Kavatchka dragged him down the stairs. Foxes parted, white coats pushing together while Pavel was brought before the fire, ears folded and tail wrapped around his front. The chief, Bastelle, pulled him down by the paw and soon he sat sheepishly on his knees beside the human. He glanced at the human and the human grinned. He had prickly black hairs lining the jawline of his strange, flat and round face.

Bastelle said, “This is my nephew, Pavel."

Other foxes in the crowded room called out their kinship ties to Pavel as well. Brothers, sisters, cousins, uncles and aunts, he thought he even heard his mother's voice. Just about half the room laid claim to him, which only made the fox more flustered.

The human bowed his head and offered the back of his hand. “It's an honor to meet you."

Pavel responded to the customary greeting by smelling the back of his palm. Though any scent of the human was totally lost by the proximity of the fire, the roasting goat, and the sharp smell of fox crowded into the hut.

“This is a human monk named Silas," Bastelle said. Silas, the name felt funny on Pavel's tongue.

“Well we are all named Silas," Silas explained.

“All humans are named Silas?" Bastelle shouted, “Must make it hard to tell you all apart!"

Yipping laughter filled the room.

Silas laughed along, too, but waved his hands and shook his head, “No! Not all humans, just the ones like me. The monks of my order."

“Why, though?" a young vixen with grey-tipped ears asked. “Don't you want your own names?"

“We do," Silas answered, and upon making eye-contact the vixen blushed and ducked back into the crowd. “But they are very special and we only share them with the people we trust most."

“Why not share it with our tribe then, Silas?" Bastelle asked. “You trust us, eh?"

Pavel was beginning to wonder why exactly he needed to be pulled into this nerve-wracking epicenter. He admired the human for being able to match the chief's boisterous confidence.

“It is for…" Silas thought about his answer for a moment, “Only for our wives."

“Ahhh, well you won't keep it a secret for long if that's who you trust."

More laughter. A vixen beside Bastelle, one of his wives, did huff until the chief ran an affectionate paw down her back.

Pavel was still working up the nerve to ask why they brought him here, but when he looked up he froze up as he met the Silas' orange eyes. He smiled again and said directly to Pavel, “I'm here to collect stories of your tribe. I'm hoping to accompany you on your rite, with your permission."

Pavel's jaw dropped a little. Even holding the human's gaze for a moment made him start rocking on the dirt.

“You have it!" Bastelle announced. “You'll have to forgive Pavel's rudeness. He is timid but a great hunter for the village. You will accompany him. I have already decided."

Pavel felt it coming. The noises and smells started to become too much. His vision started to go loose and he felt a familiar well of climbing panic. Last year he saved a bunch of kits from a savage bear, and in that desperate fight for his life he felt more at ease than he did at moments like this. All the talking descended into a muddy mess, and he desperately wanted to run out of the building.

Then a heavy hand rested on his shoulder. He yelped and snapped at it, teeth tearing the calloused fingers of the human.

An uproar followed. He remembered the blood of the human tasted… not right. But aside from that, he just remembered struggling. Paws clawing at him and him clawing and kicking back. He caught a fox in the muzzle, and then he was restrained and carried out of the building and thrown into the snow. His paws and legs had been hogtied, but out in the snow he stopped struggling. The cold felt good. He liked laying in snow. His racing heart started to calm down and the world started to come into focus. Some foxes watched over him, then he heard others walking through the snow.

Bastelle said behind him, “Our guest wishes to speak to him alone before he decides how we should punish him for his insolence."

More fox paws padding away, then a heavy crunch in the snow followed by a deep sigh. And when Pavel looked up the human sat in front of him. Silas whispered, “I will talk quietly because I do not wish for your tribe to listen."

Pavel blinked, surprised. Silas offered his hand again in a submissive gesture. There was a clear gash made by Pavel's teeth, and blood slowly leaked from it. Pavel licked the wound, tasting the strange blood of the human again. It was all wrong. It tasted like… burnt stone. Although, Pavel never once tasted the blood of a human, and so couldn't be certain they all tasted the same.

Silas said, “I'm sorry for provoking you. I could tell you were upset and was trying to check on you."

“Uh… mmm…" Pavel struggled for what to say to that. His bindings were beginning to make his legs sore. “I am the one who harmed a guest."

“My hand will be fine. See? The bleeding's stopped already." And it had, much faster than Pavel expected. “I wanted to ask you again, alone, are you okay with someone accompanying you on your long hunt? I do not wish to take from you a rite of passage meant to be solitary and spiritual simply because your chief wishes for you to take me along. I can always tell them I'm taking away the honor of my presence as punishment, if that's what you wish."

Pavel studied his legs, folded so he could sit before the fox on his belly. Now that they were outside, aside from the smell of crisp packed snow, he smelt human. It was a strange mixture of stinking wool from his clothes and salty pine from Silas' skin. The latter sort of felt soothing. It reminded Pavel of lone hunts during spring in the foothills of Saram.

“I…" Pavel did not really have an answer one way or another. He didn't mind the rite being interrupted, to him it was just another hunt, but he always preferred being alone. His kin just… they didn't seem able to understand him and he seemed unable to understand them. Pavel asked, “Why do you wish to come?"

The human said, “I am here to record the stories of your people so my order can preserve them. My journey is my own sacred rite. I wish to see firsthand your hunt so its story can be told to others."

Pavel's ears folded and he whined. “I don't like telling stories, though."

Silas chuckled. “No no, you won't have to tell anyone. I will be…" he seemed to search for the right words, “I will be doing the telling. I will be following you, keeping silent most of the time, and occasionally we may talk like this. Except without you tied up like you are."

Pavel thought about this, eyes scanning the white fabric of his outfit and the flecks of dirt buried in it. “Humans are strange…" Pavel said.

“Hehe, yes, we are. You don't have to give me an answer yet."

“You are not going to demand I be punished?"

“It was only a misunderstanding. I wish to only to be friends with you."

Pavel thought about this. He did not really have friends. Siblings he played with from time to time, his kin he could speak with. But a friend felt… well he knew how friendship was supposed to feel and it was not right for him. He did not think this human could be friends with him, either, but Pavel did owe Silas for biting him. The fox nodded what little he could with his muzzle flat to the snow and said, “You will go with me. That is how I will repay my debt for biting you."

“If getting bit is what it takes I will gladly let you bite me again."

“But I don't want to bite you again."

“Ah, sorry, I just meant it as—never mind. Shall I untie you?"

“Yes, but I'd like to not sit at the fire with you, if that is alright. It is too crowded for me in there."

Silas laughed a little. “Honestly Pavel? It's too crowded for my liking, too."

***

The night passed in a scene of revelry that they barred Pavel from even though it was meant for him. Silas told the chief he wished Pavel to spend the night entirely alone as “punishment." So the grateful arctic fox spent his time preparing his pack, checking the sharpness of his spear and knives, and going over these things again and again in ritualistic manner. The den he stayed in remained empty for most of the night, so Pavel slept by the coals of the fire pit, wrapped in heavy furs.

In the early dawn light, a village shaman came to retrieve him. The shaman was a taller, lanky fox who always had a raven familiar by his side. Pavel took his things with him and the shaman led him outside where the entire village, a little over one hundred foxes, had assembled. The ashes from last night's celebratory fire were mixed with water in a pot before the shaman painted them on his hide in the early morning light. The ruddy, uneven splotches stuck to his coat and quickly froze, making the little arctic fox shivered during the ceremony as they made his coat from a snowy white to a wolven grey. Silas stood at the edge of the assembly and observed all this with a journal in hand, writing with a piece of charcoal.

He looked horribly tired. As if he'd not slept all night. Pavel would not have slept, too, which is why he was happy Silas banned him. He enjoyed sleeping much more than singing and dancing and chattering. Well, he actually really liked singing. But only when alone and away from the village.

When the shaman finished painting him, he lit a bundle of dried cedar and waved it around Pavel. The scent was pleasant and put Pavel at ease until the shaman yipped and shoved the smoldering bundle between his shoulder blades. Pavel yelped and all the gathered assembly began barking at him. He quickly grabbed his things and started running out of town at a light jog. The younger kits raced after him, nipping at his heels and chasing him well beyond the village's perimeter. The ones closest to becoming hunters themselves followed until the sloping dunes of packed snow began to fracture as they approached the foothills.

When all the foxes from his tribe turned back, he slowed to a walk, and heard labored breathing as someone chased far behind. It was the human, trudging through the snow, his boots occasionally falling through the crust and tripping him up. Pavel sat down and rested while he waited for Silas to reach him. By the time Pavel caught his breath, Silas fell into the snow in front of him.

Pavel said, “Now it is you who is on his belly."

Silas turned his head, his breath spiraling up from his mouth. “So… oof, it seems."

“We can take a break. I am in no hurry."

“Th… thank you."

Silas pulled off his hood and let the tangle of his thick, black hair loose in the open air. He wore it back in a bun, though some strands had fallen out and stuck to his sweaty face.

“Did the celebration wear you out?"

Breath caught, Silas rolled onto his back and said, “It ended late at night, but I promised, as a gift to the chief, to seed his fertile unwed daughters. I did not expect him to have so many."

Pavel snickered. “The chief has many wives but they only give him daughters."

Coughing, the Silas sat up and said, “So I learned."

“Are you ready?"

Silas grabbed his side. “Almost… got a cramp." The human got up with a great groan and hefted his own pack. He nodded to Pavel and told him, “Alright."

***

The Long Hunt was a pilgrimage all hunters made alone to the Valley of Wolves. The Bree considered wolves sacred kin, and each hunter only hunted one wolf in their lives. The hide they skinned and returned to the village became saved for ritual and sacred ceremonies. When the hunter returned, he took a fertile vixen as his wife and bedded her with both fox's family (typically half the village) in attendance. The mating was supposed to be a passionate claim of the strength the hunter displayed all throughout their journey as well as a marriage ceremony.

Silas knew all this, but suspected Pavel dreaded the conclusion to the hunt. He watched the arctic fox closely during their journey as they moved north along the Saram foothills. He was a sinewy little fox, easily as strong as the bigger human but smaller in every other seeming way. He only wore his cloak and a loincloth, and the only marking on his fur was the grey tip of his tail and single black toe on his left foot, which remained long after the ceremonial ash applied to his fur in village rubbed off. His hazel eyes were sharp and observant, though Pavel rarely gave Silas a chance to study them.

They barely exchanged words for the first week, and Pavel seemed pleased with this. Silas noticed the fox was curious about the human, and often went through his pack, smelling his things, and running his paws along the trinkets, journals, and metal equipment Silas carried with him. The fox did this when they camped at night. They shared a small hide tent they erected between trees before Pavel dug a burrow in the snow, and insist they slept bunched together. The nights stayed warm pressed to the arctic fox's fur, and Silas admitted those nights made for more comfortable sleeping than the trip to the village, crossing the Saramende Wilds with the help of a tribe of Tibax. The cat people were not quite as soft, or smelled quite as good. The Tibax smelled like the elk they herded. Pavel's vulpine scent was sharp in his nose as snow but with pleasant, earthy tones of maleness. The fox also seemed to enjoy cuddling up to Silas, worming his paws under his clothes to touch his skin. He liked running his paws along Silas' flesh, and typically wrapped around the man and rubbed up and down his back until he dozed off.

All of this, of course, stirred certain… desires in Silas, but Pavel seemed to not notice or mind when he felt something firm brush his hip or thigh. Silas didn't propose or press anything, either, not wanting to assume Pavel's preferences.

On their tenth day of travel they came across a dried out cave cropping out of a rocky slope where the hillside suddenly terminated into a ravine. Inside the cave was an old fire ring, with smoke staining the rocky ceiling. It was only noon when they reached it, but Pavel set down his pack and announced, “We will camp here today while I go hunting."

“Is it alright if I go with you?"

Pavel considered him for a moment, the fox's tail swishing behind him before it stopped and he said, “No. You are too loud and clumsy."

“Heh, fair enough. I'll gather firewood while you're out then."

“That is a good idea," Pavel said. “I will be back soon."

Pavel took his cloak and a few things with him before padding back out into snow strewn slopes. Silas watched him go, feeling an affection for his quiet traveling companion. The monk was used to those he travelled with talking to him incessantly, trying to get him to record every story of their lives so it would be added to the Grand Library in Dorek. He enjoyed being out in the world, getting to know the simple way Pavel walked. How the arctic fox enjoyed lying in the snow waving his limbs slowly about or singing under his breath while they trekked along.

Silas shook his head and got to work gathering fallen wood from the trees surrounding the foothills. Most of what Silas gathered was damp from the snow, but he managed to find enough dry wood that they could reasonably start a fire. He even managed to grab a few logs that might burn well once the fire dried them out some. He took all this back to the cave and found that after two hours of gathering wood he created quite a pile for the rest of the day. More than enough for the night, with anything left a gift for the next travelers.

Silas, however, did not have much luck with the flint and steel. After trying for twenty minutes to catch a spark, he cursed and paced back to the mouth of the cave. The shadows of Saram had overtaken their cave, and Silas had a clear view out into the Saramende Wilds: the broad, rolling plains of snow cast in yellow and gold from the sun while the shadows of the mountains drew deeper and deeper into the plains like the fingers of a massive hand. And in the shadow, he picked out the pinprick in the distance of moving white. His traveling companion, returning to the cave but a ways off yet.

Silas went back to the fire ring and sighed. It was embarrassing to resort to this, but there was no risk of discovery out here in the wilds with the only mortal far away. He just didn't want Pavel to think he was a completely worthless traveling companion. He stripped off his clothes, baring the brown skin of his body to the naked frost before a magical warmth overtook him and…

***

When Pavel returned, Silas sat by a lit, crackling fire. He smiled when he saw Pavel carried with him two jackdin and more nuts stuffed in his satchel. The thickly shelled vessels of protein would make excellent traveling food over the next couple of days, and it pleased him he had meat enough for two full bellies tonight. They ate light rations for most of the trip, but had depleted most of those, and filling up on meat would give their bodies the fat and protein they needed to endure the cold.

Pavel said, “I will go about prepping these. Thank you for taking care of the fire."

“It was no trouble."

Pavel skinned his prize and set both of them to roasting before either of them spoke again.

Silas asked him, “What are you feelings on the rite?"

“My… feelings?"

Silas nodded. “Do you like that you must do this?"

“Hmm, no one has ever asked me this, and if another Bree asked me I would be afraid to answer. But since it is you, no. I do not like it. It makes me very nervous."

“Which part?" Silas asked. He now had his journal out, charcoal in hand. Pavel felt strange at the way the human watched him: like Pavel was his quarry.

Pavel kept his gaze fixed to the fire as he said, “The hunt does not worry me. I am sad to kill a wolf, but we will honor his spirit. No, it is when I return. They throw furs over the campfire and I will be expected to take and seed a wife. I already told you how sitting by the fire with you overwhelmed me…" Pavel searched for the words, licking his chops for a moment, “This would, too, I think. I don't think I can do it, but the rite can't be completed without it. I also don't want to bring shame on any vixen by messing it up."

“Do you like vixens?" Silas asked.

Pavel glanced at him for a moment, but Silas' gaze made the fox turn back to the fire. “What do you mean?" Pavel asked.

“Do you prefer them or the company of males in your tribe?"

“Oh… oh…" Pavel got what the Silas asked. His ears flattened and he tucked his knees to his chest.

Silas, noticing his obvious discomfort, set down his journal and charcoal. He swore, “I won't write any of this down, no one will know but me."

Pavel's tail swiped back and forth. “Mrrr, then why do I have to tell you?"

He heard Silas sigh. “You don't, Pavel. I just… I sense your discomfort at this whole thing, and even though I am not supposed to intervene, I wish to help you through it."

“I…" Pavel chanced a glance at him again. This expression Pavel had more trouble reading. He seemed… sad. Pavel rocked back and forth for a moment, staring at the fire before he said, “I do not think it is a matter of preference."

“Hmm?"

“I do not mind either kinds of my tribe, and some hunters do take males on the night of their rite. I just… I have always been…" Pavel struggled for the words, “A stranger to my own tribe. Where they are loud I am quiet. Where they like to touch I only like it sometimes. I feel like they are always too much for me, and I feel like I am bad at being a Bree." As Pavel shared feelings he had for his whole life to a stranger, warm tears beaded the corner of his eyes. He rubbed his face and said, “I am sorry. That is probably not a good answer.

“No… Pavel I'm sorry you feel that way. I feel that way most of the time, too," Silas said this with such a soft grief Pavel looked across the fire at him in surprise. Silas watched the fire now, brow furrowed and frowning.

“You are… like me but with humans?"

Silas smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. “You might even say I am barely human."

Pavel nodded and spoke into the fire, “I understand. I barely feel like a Bree."

For a time all that sounded was the trees outside blowing in the wind, the fire crackling, and fat of the jackdin sizzling off the spit.

Pavel broke the silence after reflecting on it a great deal: “I am glad you came with me, Silas. We are alone out here, but I feel less alone with you than when I was around my kin back at my village."

“I am glad I came with you as well. I suspect that if I stayed, I wouldn't have made any real friends back at your village."

“Friends?"

“That is what we are, aren't we?"

He knew Silas watched him while Pavel mulled this over. His tail twitched, but he relaxed his knees and let his posture slacken as he let that offer sink in. Yes, he never felt this way about someone before. He liked being around the human. And the human liked being around him as well. Without meaning to, a smile broke across his face and his tail wagged a little before he nodded eagerly.

“Yes, Silas, we are friends."

***

Despite the heat of the fire, the two traveling companions still decided to sleep together. They made a bed of their shared cloaks along the rock and slept next to the log burning fire. Silas decided to take his shirt off, which Pavel seemed to relish. He spooned Silas, touching and prodding his skin all over. The arctic fox nuzzled into his nape and seemed to quake before whining and rubbing him some more.

Silas laughed gently and squeezed the fox's paw with his bigger hand. “You really like touching me."

“You're just so different and smooth. I like things that are smooth."

Silas glanced down at the thick patch of hair between his chest and his happy trail. “You are probably the first to call me smooth."

“Your skin is nice."

“Hehe, well, I like the way your fur feels."

“We should trade."

“Are you sure? You would get very cold without your fur."

Pavel hugged him tight, his body quivering a little before he released him. “You will just have to keep me warm if we do."

***

The farther north the two friends traveled, the sharper winter's teeth became. This did not bother Pavel too much. And his friend surprised him with his resilience, too. They made good time, and Pavel took to singing songs as they travelled. Silas liked this, and encouraged him to sing more. He told Pavel his voice had a nice alto to it. Pavel did not know what alto was, but it was an open secret in his village that he had a good singing voice. Pavel made up songs as they travelled: songs about a gash in a mountainside, songs to frost-bowed birches, to all the different snow, and to Silas. The last of these always made Silas grin, though they were silly things. Pavel sang about Silas' funny hair, how flat his face was, how clumsy he could be in the snow, how good his skin felt, and how happy he made Pavel.

The night before the hunt they reached a trailhead that led down into the Valley of Wolves. There, another cave Bree had long since cut into the rock waited. It was a common stopping ground for hunters on their rite. There was firewood rested at the back of the cave, and the cave walls contained stone-scratched drawings and some paintings made from dyes, all of different scenes with wolves. There were wolves at play. Wolves gored at the end of spears. Wolves with their pups. Silas delighted at these drawing and seemed content to copy them in his journal while Pavel worked at getting the fire ready. They did not have time to hunt, but still had just enough rations to eek out one last meal. Tomorrow night, they would dine on wolf, bury the bones at the foot of the valley, and return with the hide to complete the rite.

Tonight they leaned against each other, Pavel's gaze flicking from the scratchings in Silas' journal to the fire. When the human closed the book, he wrapped a hand around Pavel and hugged the fox close. Pavel touched his bare hand and twined their digits together. When he glanced up, he saw the Silas looked warmly down at him. Pavel felt a flutter in his chest before flicking his gaze quickly back at the fire in front of them.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?" Silas asked.

Both watched the fire as Pavel answered, “No. Wolves are dangerous to hunt, but we should be fine."

“Will you will let me enter the valley with you? You've never let me go hunting with you before."

“The wolves will be out hunting, too. You will be safer with me."

“I'm touched you are so worried about me." Silas set his weight more against Pavel. It was heavy and firm and felt relaxing. He spent his whole life close to others, yet Silas was the first person he didn't feel worried about being overwhelmed by.

“Well you carry no weapons, and your teeth and claws are very dull. You also do not seem very strong for your size."

Silas shook with laughter beside him. “You don't hold anything back, do you?"

“Hold back…"

“You are just very honest. I appreciate it. It makes being with you very easy."

“Are you not as honest with me?"

“Mostly, but I do have secrets. Do you remember that night I first arrived at the village, about how Silas isn't my real name?"

“Oh, yes I do. That was about the last thing I remember before we talked outside."

Silas rubbed down Pavel's side, scratching through his fur affectionately. “I'm sorry that all happened."

“It is okay, Silas."

“Kalon."

“Hmm? What is Kalon?"

“It is me."

Pavel's hair stood on end. A pendulum swung through him as he felt heat rush to his cheeks and a pit open in his gut. Silas could not be—Kalon could not be…

The arctic fox did not notice his trembling until Kalon shifted a little and asked, “What's wrong, Pavel?"

“I… I… D-d-do you want me to be your…" he swallowed the knot in his throat and managed to force himself to look at Kalon, “wife?"

Kalon's orange eyes went wide. “What? Oh no! No, Pavel, no. It was just… you mean what I said at the village weeks ago? That was just… We… oh dear…" Kalon got up and started pacing. Pavel felt a little numb as Kalon kept talking, “We give our names to people very important to us… I just mean, you are very important to me. What I said at the campfire, it seemed the easiest way to explain it."

Pavel released a breath he didn't know he held. It cycled, he released one tension and another giddy one came surging in like the night they first called each other friends. He still sat on the ground, tucking his knees to him as he usually did in moments where he felt too much. He asked Kalon, “Am I as important to you as a wife would be?"

Kalon flinched. He said something in another tongue, before pressing his hand over his eyes. He'd stopped pacing and seemed to be thinking, but the longer he took with his answer the more Pavel's ears sank. Kalon released a breath, facing away from Pavel and toward the back of the cave; he said, “I do not know how to explain how I feel in your language."

“Oh…" that wave of giddiness collapsed into an avalanche of grief.

Kalon heard it in his voice. He faced the fox and said, “Pavel—"

“It is okay. You are human, I am Bree. We speak different tongues… perhaps we feel differently as well." Pavel stood and said, “I would like to spend some time with the snow."

“Alone?"

“Alone."

And Pavel stepped into the night.

***

Kalon listened to Pavel walk away, digitgrade feet pawing softly across packed snow and ice. He sighed and paced around the cave. He did not mean for this to happen. He wanted to give Pavel his name because, well, he felt more affection for the fox than he felt for anyone in… gods, how long had it been?

Kalon kicked his journal across the cave with a curse. He did not want to call it love. It felt young and foolish to say he loved someone he only knew for barely three weeks. But he knew what he felt would deepen with time: in their trip back, in his stay at the village through the remainder of the winter. If they could just stay this close, he knew these feelings might grow as glaciers did. Becoming something firm and massive. Centuries had passed since he last felt that way with someone. He had been content with his solitude and didn't expect to feel it again at all. But this strange, sweet young fox… Kalon did not even know how to broach the issue of his age with mortals anymore, but frankly no matter how big the glacier got he did not expect it to pull away his real identity. And that was fine, he was comfortable being a man.

But how did he tell Pavel what it was he wanted? A companion he trusted. Someone to sleep next to night after night. Someone who he could know and who could truly know him—

A wolf's keening howl made Kalon freeze mid-step. He turned from his pacing to their packs along the cave wall and sighed when he saw Pavel's spear nearby. The wolf sounded far off, so he probably didn't need to worry about it coming to the cave anyways—

But Pavel was out there alone and unarmed. Thinking only about the fox, he grabbed the spear, and ran into the frosty moonlight.

***

Pavel, without thinking much about it, chose to walk the path into the valley. The Valley of Wolves was deep, and took half a day to go down by the switchbacks lining the valley's entrance. He just took the path because it allowed him to follow a trail and not pay attention. He focused on his feelings instead.

In Bree tribes, there were foxes called white ravens because they had the spirits of tricksters. They kept their gender unclear and only revealed it to the mates they kept. Kalon felt like a white raven who shared his truth only to turn Pavel away. Was there something wrong with Pavel? Was his face not flat enough? His ears too big? Was it his fur? Pavel growled and an unconscious paw scratched into his side while he walked.

Nothing ever upset him in this way. With anger and grief stewing together. Usually he felt sad that he did not fit in or angry at others misunderstanding him or not listening to him when he asked they stop. He felt… Kalon felt like the first person who listened to him. He wanted the human around him, but did Kalon not want that as badly?

Did he feel they were just supposed to be friends but not mates?

Pavel shivered. The thought skipped across the surface of his mind like a stone and left ripples that reverberated through his body. He wanted Kalon to be his mate. Even if he was young and completely inexperienced in these matters, he knew he wanted Kalon. Kalon who traveled with him the whole rite. Kalon who Pavel wanted to complete the rite with.

It had not occurred to Pavel to choose Kalon until just then. Kalon in the center of a den, on soft furs and skin bare. It made his chest tight to think about. Pavel wasn't sure he could do it with another fox when half the village looked on, but Kalon… with his scent and smooth skin. His laughter and strong, heavy weight. Pavel could just focus on him and ignore any Bree in the room. Just Pavel and Kalon in the furs together…

These thoughts stirred Pavel up so much he did not notice the wolves until one made a call at the top of the valley's edge.

Up the side of the mountain, he spotted movement along the lip down into the valley. Pavel felt naked. He didn't even grab his cloak or a knife. He just wore his loincloth. He heard paws scattering snow in the night, paws bigger and heavier than his. Their muzzles big enough to tear open his throat in a single bite. Scanning the darkness, he caught movement among the bare trees dotting the snowy slope. He counted six loping figures of different sizes, but each wolf looked big enough to pin Pavel to the ground. And they were hunting him. The way they stalked down the hillside from different angles, weaving between trees. Their panting made looms of icy breath through the night, and their eyes glowed in the shadow of the trees.

Pavel had no choice, he could not get past them.

He turned and started running down into the valley. Not taking the switchback meant he had to constantly grab tree branches and dig his claws into trunks to keep from tumbling down the steep incline. The snow, so familiar on the pawpads of his feet, suddenly felt slippery and traitorous. He heard his ancestral kin coming for him and started taking broad, desperate strides. He practically leapt each time his feet left the ground, now slamming into trees and snapping branches to catch himself. The wolves followed him, and would have overtaken him had the slope not slowed their hunt, but there was only so much before the valley flattened into the field and frozen river at its base.

Pavel's instinct took over everything and it simply told him run. And so he flew down the hillside.

***

Aside from a narrow trail cutting through the trees, the slope into the valley was steep with no clear way down. Which, even with the cover of trees, made it easy to spot Pavel cutting a path down and half a dozen dark shapes giving chase. Kalon cursed. He was too late to help, even if he charged with all the speed this form could muster, he would never catch up to Pavel. As a Silas, he was not supposed to intervene in what happened. Simply watch and record.

But Kalon had already given Pavel his name, and he would intervene more. The instinct to protect what was his took over everything. And so he flew down the mountainside.

***

It occurred to Pavel, he might try climbing a tree. He could not get away, but perhaps Kalon might help him if he only just stayed alive until the human went looking for him. With only a quarter of the slope left to frantically traverse, Pavel leapt for firm branch in a tree downslope. He only needed to catch it and swing his way further up the tree and out of reach of the wolves.

But in the dark, Pavel did not see that the branch he leapt for was dried out and rotten. It snapped soon as Pavel's full weight fell on it, and the arctic fox yelped as his momentum pitched and he was thrown down the mountainside. He started spinning and rolling down the slope, his head knocked against a tree and left him dazed. He tumbled until the ground started to even out where he managed to get his paws under him. He ran a few feet more, but the world still spun and he quickly fell back over. Then he heard a snarl before a grey mass slammed into him. Teeth ripped into his shoulder and Pavel screamed.

A roar answered him.

The wolf had thrown Pavel on his back so he saw the blur of something red sweep overhead before a weight crashed into the snow beside him. He heard the beat of wings and a deep, guttural snarl. Wolves started barking and circling the newcomer and Pavel. The weighty beast stamped its feet before loosing another great roar, a terrible crashing sound like the cries of clashing warbands. Only this was thrown from one throat defiantly at the pack of wolves. It hurt Pavel's ears.

He struggled with all this sensory data on top of the pain from falling and the tear in his shoulder. But he heard the wolves start running, then the sound of something turn on four legs. Pavel managed to roll over on his side, panting when he heard a deep, grumbling voice whine: “Pavel!"

Something firm and warm touched his wounded shoulder, the muzzle of something. It licked the wound the wolf left. Its hot, large tongue tasting the blood marring Pavel's hide. Pavel gasped first in pain before that pain transformed to a buzzing warmth.

At the top of valley he heard a distant thunder-like rumble. He knew what it was, but he could not speak, he could barely move. He felt so overloaded and exhausted. He just wanted to be still in the snow.

The voice that spoke did not seem to notice the snow's tolling warning.

“Pavel, don't panic alright?" the voice said. “It's me Kalon."

Kalon? The voice was much too deep, but Pavel did smell Kalon's scent in the air.

The mountain rumbled again and the voice nudged him, “Pavel get up. We need to go. I think there might be…"

Something far above them cracked.

“Pavel!"

Pavel finally managed to look up. Standing over him, body about the size of a bison with a long neck and tail, was a four legged reptilian creature with wings. Their red scales glittered like snow in the moonlight. Sharp, dark horns sprouted above their brow and forked upward. They had a set of fins for their ears, and their muzzle seemed hard and plated. Between their horns and growing down the length of their spine was a shock of dark hair like Kalon's, only it stood on end and seemed sharper. Their eyes were a bright reptilian orange that glowed in the dark, and the scales of their underbelly were a soft orange that contrasted their brilliant red. They reminded Pavel of the sun rising over the plains. A strange, beautiful creature that heard the mountainside come crashing down while the arctic fox stayed stunned in the snow. The creature's gaze whipped up, then they snarled and pounced onto Pavel.

Pavel kicked and screamed, but the firm, large weight of beast pinned him to the snow. The creature did not hurt Pavel, just kept him pinned. Their scales were so warm it reminded Pavel of summer sun on his back, and now this close he knew the smell well. Sharp pine, like both trees in spring and the needles of a fallen branch burning in a campfire. And his nose told him with certainty this was Kalon.

All of these things: being smothered, struggling between scale and snow, the scent of his dear friend, made him oblivious to the crashing storm that rolled down the mountain until it slammed into them. Snow and ice and wood and rock crashed against something unyielding. Kalon whined and tensed against Pavel, but Pavel noticed the avalanche did not carry them away. They seemed resolutely in place. The swirl and crash of a whole mountainside ploughed around them, but Pavel was safe in the embrace of his friend, who seemed to erect something between them and the avalanche.

Pavel felt he should be panicking more. Hyperventilation and tremors, the need to bite and tear his skin, to rock and buzz. All those things felt suppressed by Kalon's weight on top of him. To be fair, his heart was racing and he still squirmed beneath the human's new form while the avalanche slowed. The snows spilled through the valley floor for several minutes before finally coming to an end.

And they were okay and safe. Kalon groaned and rolled over. Pavel quickly wriggled out from under him and crawled backwards until his back hit a firm wall of packed snow. In a cylinder, a nearly smooth wall of snow surrounded them both and climbed at least eight feet into the air.

“Wha-what did—"

Kalon's pained cough made Pavel's hair stand up. Blood dripped from Kalon's mouth, nearly black in the darkness, the moonlight now cast in shadow by the open pit of snow they sat in. Kalon said, “I… used my magic… to protect us…" Pavel watched his friend roll onto his side, limbs sprawled like a creature settling in to die. “I used… too much."

“Too much?" Pavel asked, feeling helpless and frozen.

“Need… rest," Kalon wheezed before his eyes flickered shut.

Pavel yipped and scrambled to his friend. At a touch he immediately noticed Kalon didn't feel as warm as before. He almost felt cold. Pavel whined and pressed his head to Kalon's chest. A slow, firm heartbeat told the worried fox his friend lived, but he was close to being too cold. Pavel backed away and stood up, looking his friend over. He was not exactly sure how much bigger than him Kalon was now, but his head was three times larger than Pavel's, at least. The wrists at Kalon's paws each seemed thick as Pavel's thigh. He wasn't sure if it would amount to anything given their differences in size, but he would try to share his body heat with his friend.

He slid in next to Kalon's chest, resting his head on one leg. The scales were firm, but yielded a little and the muscle beneath was actually comfy to rest on. The fox took the wrist of Kalon's other foreleg and pulled it down around Pavel's torso. Whining, Pavel pressed his back into Kalon's chest firmly enough to feel his friend's great heartbeat. That firm, reassuring rhythm lulled him to sleep faster than he expected.

***

The dragon woke to the smell of cooking meat and crackling fire. His whole body ached, and the last thing he remembered was putting up a large, magical ward to curve the avalanche around them. It took all of his energy to maintain the ward. He never once allowed himself to become so drained, and now he understood how dragons had died in the past from pushing their magic too far.

A weight leaned against his chest. Kalon heard humming. And then a song,

The snow's a home

The snow's a home

For my friend and meee

He's big and red

He's big and red

To him I'm tinyyy

He sleeps all day

He sleeps all day

Like snow he's lazyyy

Kalon groaned as he felt working past his pain a happiness at the sound of Pavel singing. The fox yipped and spun off him, and soon Kalon felt paws rubbing his face and Pavel asking, “Kalon? Kalon?"

He shook the dragon's muzzle and Kalon growled before he managed to open his eyes and say, “Stop it."

White fur blocked out his vision as Pavel hugged Kalon's head to his chest. The little fox quaked, the way he did when they lied together with skin on fur. Kalon did not protest the hug. The fox's fur was warm, and Kalon liked feeling his small friend's racing heart.

Pavel released him and announced, “You're awake!"

Grumbling, Kalon said, “I am."

“Does that mean we can go?"

“I… I am still very weak."

Looking around, Kalon saw that Pavel had made camp in their cave of snow: he dug out a fire pit, their packs and things from the cave had been brought here, and pinned with stones to the snow was the hide of a skinned wolf. Kalon said, “You completed the hunt without me."

Pavel glanced at the wolf skin. “Oh, well, not really. While I was out scavenging I found his paw exposed. The avalanche had taken him."

“Ah… how long was I asleep?"

“Three days."

Not as bad as Kalon expected. “And you've been with me the whole time?"

“Except when I needed to leave to get things, yes," Pavel said. The fox was beaming at him, his whole body seeming close to vibrating. He was so excited and Kalon wished he had the strength to match him.

The dragon offered a weak smile. “That explains it."

“Hmm?"

“My powers, they're restored by being around others."

The fox cocked his head. “Are all humans like this?" Despite himself, Kalon started laughing. He quickly stopped when pain lanced through his ribs. Pavel fixed him with a pout and said, “I do not understand what is so funny, Kalon."

Kalon asked him, “You think all humans are like me?"

“Well… I guess you said you were not like other humans."

“That's because I'm a dragon, Pavel."

“Oh…" The arctic fox nodded. “This makes more sense."

The fox seemed unperturbed by this revelation. Kalon managed to push himself up on shaky legs, turning himself so he sat on his haunches and looked down at the fox. He noticed the fox did not seem to have as much trouble looking him in the eyes now.

“Are you not surprised?"

“I was surprised when I first saw you, but I have had time to get used to you. Why did you keep this a secret, though?"

“You truly do not know, do you?"

“I would not ask questions I know the answer to," Pavel said, walking to one side of the fire and sitting across from Kalon. He had to arch his back and crane his neck a little to meet Kalon's gaze, but he did this with an ease, splaying his arms behind him so he could lean back.

Kalon explained, “The whole of my body courses with magic, and many many many people have tried to kill me or capture me so they could use it. Their greed is why there are so few dragons left, and why they are all in hiding like me. We take the forms of other creatures, and in those forms we can't access our magic and must submit ourselves to the needs of mortals, but we remain safe."

“The needs of mortals?"

Kalon gestured with his snout to what must have been a cut of wolf meat roasting on a stone in the fire pit. “Haven't you wondered why, after not eating for three days, I'm not absolutely famished right now?"

“Hmm… you do not eat what I eat," Pavel said. The fox studied the fire for a moment before he asked, “Do you still like to eat meat?"

“I can, yes."

“That is good, I would still like to share meals with you."

“You should save your meat for yourself, Pavel."

“Why?"

“Because even sitting and speaking with you is taking all my strength. It will take me another week, at least, until I'm strong enough to climb out of this valley."

***

That first day, Kalon only stayed awake a few hours before he drifted off to sleep again. This time he lied on his back, and Pavel lied on top of him, humming a Bree lullaby for his friend. He noticed that Kalon was warmer than he had been that first night, at least.

Mid-morning the next day, Pavel sat at the fire, poking at a strip of wolf meat he cut from the carcass buried in the wall of snow around them.

His tail swished in the snow while the dragon stirred. Kalon rolled onto his front and yawned.

Pavel trotted over and hugged his head and neck again. “I was worried you would sleep another three days."

“No no, I'm not quite that hurt. Mmm, you smell nice." Kalon nuzzled into Pavel's belly and the fox backed away giggling while the dragon inhaled his scent.

“With how much I've rubbed myself on you I just smell like you."

Kalon cocked his brow. “Rubbed?"

Pavel blushed and his gaze fell to the snow. “I really like the way your scales feel."

“They're smooth," Kalon said while he sat up on his haunches.

“Yes!" Pavel agreed, beaming up at his friend. “But bumpy also, and it feels nice. When I'm worried about you, rubbing your scales makes me feel better."

Kalon chuckled. “And it makes me feel better, too."

“You feel better when I touch you?"

“You touching me, talking to me, all of it helps restore the magic in my body."

Pavel laughed and pounced on Kalon. The dragon gasped when the fox thudded against his body, scrambling around to rest on the dragon's shoulders before lying flat across his back. Kalon's prickly hairs smelled thickly of those pine needles, and scratched at Pavel's hide in a way he found pleasant. Kalon sighed and lied back onto the ground, saying, “I don't think I invited you on top of me."

“I just want you to heal faster. I am your medicine," Pavel said, running his arms and legs up and down his neck and back.

Kalon said, “I suppose you can stay up there."

Pavel sat up and asked, “Do you want me off?"

“No no, I was being playful, dear."

“Oh, okay," and Pavel flopped back onto his friend. He nuzzled into the line of Kalon's hair before he looked up and said, “You called me dear."

Kalon grunted. “I did. You are dear to me."

“It is because I am your medicine."

“No, it is because you are my Pavel," the dragon corrected.

Pavel felt a rush of feeling surge through his chest and he hugged the dragon harder, joyful little whines muffled in the dragon's hair and scales.

Kalon craned his neck around to look at the arctic fox. “Is something the matter?"

“I am just very happy to be here with you, even if you are hurt."

“I am happy you are the one here with me." Pavel's tail waved in the air for a moment before he sat up and slid off Kalon. Pavel walked to a pathway in the pit he dug out to climb out, and Kalon asked him, “Are you going somewhere?"

“We need more firewood, and I would like to think about something before I ask you about it."

“Alright. Stay safe."

Pavel climbed out of the pit and scampered around the valley for firewood. He did not pay much attention to what he grabbed. He just needed time alone to piece together how to say something to Kalon. He felt a little nervous, but Kalon calling him dear, saying Pavel was his. Those things reassured him. Pavel wanted Kalon to be his as well. And Kalon gave up a great secret to save Pavel. The young fox wanted to show how committed he was to his friend.

He returned to their camp dragging the limb of a downed tree. He planned to break it apart and just use it in pieces, something to replenish coals so Pavel might heat up frozen meat and melt snow when he needed water. The reminder of meat made him gasp, and he hurried back, tossing the limb down the pit and earning a surprised snarl from below. Kalon called up, “Careful!"

Pavel scrambled down and found the stone he cooked his breakfast on had been moved out of the fire. It cooled on a bit of muddy earth exposed from the fire and all the movement of the two. Pavel went to study the strip of muscle and fat taken from the wolf's shoulder and was pleased to see it did not dry out too much.

“It smelled like it was burning, so I got it out."

Pavel nodded. “Thank you."

“Did you think about what it was you wanted to ask?"

The dragon had gotten back onto his haunches.

“Yes, but I don't know if I can look at you while I say it," Pavel told him before turning his back.

“That's okay, dear."

Pavel's ears pinned to his head as he took a deep breath. He released the tension inside him and words spilled from his muzzle: “Kalon you are the closest I've been able to get to anyone. Even my kin think I'm too strange but you don't and I've never felt what it was like to be appreciated by someone for who I am and I just want…" Pavel tripped up on the words a moment, “I want…" he whined, fighting to say it, “I want you to be the one I complete the rite with. I don't care if you are human or dragon, I want it to be with you. I want the whole village to know how I feel about you. I want you to be mine!" He finished by stamping his foot. He shook a little while he listened for any kind of response. He heard Kalon shuffle toward him some, then hesitate.

“Can I touch you?" he asked gently.

Words were too hard now so he just nodded.

Kalon crossed the distance between them, sat down, and with a strong forepaw pulled the arctic fox close to him. There was a rumbling growl from the dragon that Pavel felt through his whole body. Kalon felt warm as he did when they lied together on their trip to the valley. The dragon said, “I want to be yours, too."

Pavel embraced the paw holding him and nuzzled against Kalon's arm, his back arching and shoulders rubbing Kalon's chest. Kalon nuzzled him and Pavel reached up and licked the dragon before he playfully chirred and licked Pavel back, long slimy tongue streaking across Pavel's muzzle and making the fox squeal.

Kalon murred and nipped Pavel shoulder. The fox gasped, paws running along the dragon's strong jawline before he said, “It-it is a shame… you cannot fit in a den like this."

“Hmm?"

“For the rite."

“Do you have a preference for me like this?" Kalon asked before nibbling on Pavel's shoulder some more.

“Hehe, yes. I like your scales more than your skin."

“It is just as well. I am not so certain it is a good idea for you to bed me in this form."

“What do you mean?"

“I…" Kalon hesitated, “I will tell you later. It is my turn to think what I wish to say. But either way," the fox yelped when Kalon fell backwards into the snow with Pavel still held against him. The fox wriggled around onto his belly while that forepaw the size of his head rubbed down his back. Kalon said, “I am looking forward to the rite. With sharing that with you."

“Could we share it now?" Pavel blurted the words out without thinking and quickly blushed and buried his face in Kalon's front.

Kalon laughed, but Pavel did not feel like the dragon laughed at him. “Not right now, I am still too weak. I would love it if you can sing for me, though."

Pavel beamed at him and without putting real thought into the words, started singing:

Pavel and Kalon

A fox and dragon

With nothing between them

But fur and scale and love…

***

Love… Pavel said it first in a song, and then again when he finished singing it. Directed at him, an “I love you" that Kalong returned with “I love you, too." And Kalon felt strange returning it. Not because he did not feel it. The fox's affections, his words and voice, his scent, and all his little touches stirred feelings long since dormant in Kalon. The word felt so old to him it might as well be new, freshly discovered with this playful, caring fox. But love… that reality scared him, too.

There was so much Pavel would have to give up if they were to stay together, and Kalon did not want to wish that pain on him, or make the fox choose between letting go of his entire world or this new bond they shared.

It troubled Kalon's thoughts while Pavel remained vibrant. Even a week after the avalanche, when clouds came into the valley and snowfall began to refresh the ruined slopes with new snow. The two companions sat together, Kalon on all fours with Pavel leaning against his side and a wing extended like tent canvas over the fox's head.

Pavel traced a paw along the membrane of his wing. “It feels very nice."

Kalon's wing flapped when Pavel's digits touched a particular spot. The fox started. Fresh snow scattered across the camp and Kalon said, “Sorry, I was ticklish right there."

“Oh, hehe, I like that. I've never tried tickling you before," and Pavel reached up to rub his wings more.

“Please do not," Kalon said, lifting his wing out of reach.

“Why not?"

“That time my wing flapped, what if I kicked out and hurt you?"

“Then you would have to take care of me for my foolishness instead."

Kalon fixed Pavel with a look. “Saving you from the wolves was foolish?"

“Causing an avalanche was," Pavel said, and at a huff from the dragon he added, “I'm happy we got to be stuck out here, though."

Kalon turned his head away and grumbled, “I was just trying to scare them off without hurting any of them. I didn't mean to cause an avalanche."

“Neither does the snow."

“Hmmph."

Pavel laughed and scratched the shoulder he leaned against. “You are playing with me."

Kalon chuckled. “I am. And I'm glad you are starting to see through me."

“Not through, just with."

For a while, the two stayed quiet while the snows fell. Kalon also appreciated the ease with which they shared silence. Kalon had lived so long he sometimes just needed to dwell in the world, pay keen attention to the senses and stirs of his body. He felt Pavel appreciated this, too. And Kalon lost track of how much time passed; his hide glistened wet from the melted snows while it piled on.

Then Pavel spoke up. “You said your body is made up of magic?"

“Yes, some people want to use my magic, but others would be just as happy cutting me up and using me as ingredients for potions and salves."

“Oh, what do they do with your parts?"

Kalon saw the fox only held curiosity in the perk of his ears and brightness of his hazel eyes. “You truly wish to know?"

Pavel sprung to his feet. “Yes! What do they do with these?" and he reached up and squeezed the base of Kalon's horns.

“Cook in a pot to make a stock. Helps harden your bones."

Pavel grinned and a paw tapped Kalon's muzzle. “Your teeth?"

“Smashed to powder and folded into metal blades."

“That is not a potion."

“But it is a very particular kind of poison."

Pavel giggled and reached around Kalon's neck to grab his hair. “This?"

“They swallow it for the runs."

“Grass seems like it could do that."

“That's what I told the apothecary."

“Your scales."

“Which ones?"

“Here," Pavel prodded his side.

“Swallow it to gain weight."

Pavel crawled farther down and touched his haunch. “Right here?"

“Swallow it to lose weight."

“You are just playing with me again."

“I promise this is what humans think!"

Pavel reached behind Kalon and the dragon grunted when he felt the fox heft his balls. “What about these?"

“Eh… Um… Pavel!" the dragon yelped when he felt a cold nose brush against his sack. He shifted a little and the fox followed.

“Mmm… you smell good Kalon."

“Pavel, stop," Kalon spun around and sat so his sheath and balls remained firmly in the snow. Facing the fox now, he saw his companion's tail wrapped around his stomach.

His paws ran through the tail and he mumbled at the snow, “I'm… I'm sorry. I just thought—"

Kalon's sigh interrupted him. “It's okay Pavel. My scales are scales, but there are parts of me, like my teeth and horns that are magical and… that part of me is also, well, potent."

“Oh…" Pavel said, a blush coming through his white muzzle. “What does it do?"

“Well, my bodily fluids conduct magic. It's why when I healed your bite, I licked you to do it. My, um, seed is potent in that way, too."

“It heals?"

“Sort of…" Kalon sighed and shook his head. “I need to ask you something, Pavel."

“What is it?"

“When the rite is over, I will stay in Breedesh for a time, but I will have to leave once the winter snows begin to thaw."

“Oh, um, I suppose I knew this… I just—it was hard to think about so I did not think about it," the fox said before he sat down in the snow. He tucked his knees to him as he often did when stressed and rocked a little.

“Pavel, I don't want to leave you."

The rocking stopped.

“But if I stay at your village, the longer I stay the more at risk your people will be. Trouble finds me when I stay somewhere too long, Pavel. It is why I spend so much of my time traveling alone, but now that we've met I don't want to spend that time alone. I want to spend it with you."

Pavel looked up at him, arms still wrapped around his knees. “What do you want to ask me, then?"

“Come with me when I go."

Saying it, finally asking it filled Kalon with a fluttering fear. Pavel had every right to tell him it wasn't possible, that Kalon needed to be willing to stay longer than he planned before Pavel would leave. Pavel didn't need to live a harsh life on the road with—

“Okay."

Kalon blinked. Pavel studied the snow very intently and didn't say anything else. “Pavel I… are you sure? I do not know the next time you will be able to go home."

Pavel stood and approached Kalon. “I have a home, but I do not fit in with them. I fit in with you, though." Pavel smiled sweetly and cupped Kalon's jaw with a paw, “So I think you should be my home. So I will go with you."

Crashing relief made Kalon tear up. “Pavel…" he nuzzled into the fox and Pavel squeezed his head close, a paw petting down Kalon's brow, between his horns, and to his nape.

They shared a moment before Pavel withdrew and asked, “What does this have to do with your balls, though?"

Kalon felt his earfrills flap with a strange embarrassment before he said, “Oh… there's, heh, a few thing. First of all, when I'm not careful the scent can be very potent and can make you hazy and easy to command."

“Oh."

“And, uh, if I fucked you and sowed my seed in you, you'd be linked to me somewhat permanently."

“Oooh."

“And whether you like it or not, it will also make you stop aging for a time. Which is what they use my balls for. As a love potion and a youth potion."

Pavel remained quiet after Kalon explained this. His tail twitched and ear flicked. Kalon quickly thought of something else to add into the silence.

“If you are bound to me, it will be like when a shaman of your tribe takes a familiar. We will be magically tied, and my energy and life will be able to sustain you, but you will have your free will still, and as long as we are willing to renew our connection every few decades the connection will remain."

“Kalon," Pavel's voice seemed far away, “How old are you?"

“I am, uh, I've lost count of the seasons, but over a millennia. I've been alive since before the Bree settled in the Saramende Wilds." Kalon said this with rising apprehension. This would do it. Pavel would see that their relationship was actually impossible. They were too different themselves to truly belong together. Pavel would need to change too much to—

“I will go for a walk."

“Pavel… I'm not asking you to—"

“I know you are not. I just wish to think," Pavel said evenly before he began to climb out of the pit.

Watching him go, Kalon felt horrified that the fox might choose not to come back.

***

The snows came in thick heavy powder while Pavel walked to the exposed trunk of a tree. He sat against it and faced the pit.

Kalon was so old. Pavel did not think about aging too often. Beyond hunting and trying his best to fit in with his village, he did not think much about things like the world outside or the future. He just thought he would hunt and provide for the foxes of Breedesh. It made him feel good to do that. Sure he didn't fit in very well with other Bree, but caring for those in the village made all those misunderstandings worth it. He knew his village saw that with him as well and did genuinely value him.

It wasn't until Kalon that Pavel put any thought into the outside world and now he had promised Kalon to join him there. Pavel did not regret that promise. But Kalon was so old. He thought of the way elders treated kits in the village: warmth and patience, but also patronizing them. He remembered too often being patted on the head and sent off with what he said being completely ignored. Would it be that way with Kalon? Would he always be a kit to him? Would it be, when Pavel aged and died, Kalon might feel like a mother losing one of her kits instead of losing her mate? Both might cause grief, but Pavel did not want to be Kalon's kit. Pavel wanted to be his equal.

Pavel sat so long that when he stood a layer of powdery snow scattered off him. He clambered back into the pit and felt Kalon's watching him before Pavel announced, “I would like it." He kept his voice steady and determined.

“Pavel… you can't mean—"

“I do. I want you to be your equal Kalon, and this is the only way."

“Pavel I thought of you as my equal since the moment I saw you," the dragon said but Pavel shook his head.

“No, I will age and you will not and I will die and you will not. If I am not your equal, Kalon, it will make us both very sad."

It was hard, but Pavel kept his gaze firmly locked to Kalon's fiery orange eyes. The dragon searched the fox for some ounce of doubt. Not because, Pavel realized, he wanted Pavel to be afraid, but because Kalon was afraid.

“Pavel… everyone you know will die while you remain young."

“Yes, but you will be with me, so I know it will be okay."

“We will be hunted by mages and dragon slayers alike. You will be hunted should anyone find out about our connection."

“As long as they are not wolves, I will be able to defend myself," Pavel said before he added, “Kalon, this is what I want. You are what I want."

Kalon growled, his tail whipped back and forth, kicking snow up behind him. He said, “If we do this, once we start you will not have the willpower to stop it."

“I will be okay, because it will be you and I trust you, Kalon," Pavel told him, and the dragon's stance softened a little. “If what you say is true, you could have simply forced me to, but you did not. This is why I know I can trust you."

Kalon relaxed finally. “It scared me to tell you that. I admit I've been attracted to you for some time but did not want to push anything."

“'Not push anything'?"

“I wanted you to be attracted to me and come to me."

“I asked you to complete the rite with me, didn't I?"

Kalon sighed, and great gust of hot breath washed over Pavel from where he stood. “You are right. I am being silly."

The fox smiled and told him. “I know, but it's okay. I am silly, too."

A grin broke Kalon's great muzzle before he leaned over and nuzzled the fox. Pavel returned the affection with a little growl, licking Kalon's brow before he admitted, “You know you will be my first."

Kalon murred and licked across his chest. “Would you want to… now?"

“Can you?"

“I can, and it will speed up my recovery."

Pavel huffed a little while Kalon rubbed into him a little more insistently. “I am supposed to be your medicine."

“Good," Kalon said, a dominant growl biting underneath it that made Pavel's scruff stand on end. “Stand by the fire for a moment."

Pavel nodded and watched as the dragon faced a side of their encampment and lashed his tail through the snow. He ploughed it aside and revealed the bare, sun starved grass beneath that was damp and cold. Then the dragon dug his claws into the grass and his wings extended, tail raised, and he went still. A wave of hot air rushed past Pavel, and water vapor quickly evaporate from the wet ground Kalon just exposed. When the dragon stepped back from the patch of dry, warm ground, he was panting.

Pavel whined a little. “You just used up some of your magic."

“I will be fine. I wanted this to be warm and dry. Now come sit over here."

Pavel did as told. The grass was soft and welcoming like furs back in the dens at the village. Kalon nuzzled him reassuringly and whispered, “Just lie back and I will take care of you."

Pavel was blushing as he did, snow still falling above them. Kalon rubbed his nose into Pavel's belly and took a deep inhale before the dragon licked across the fox's torso. Pavel gasped and shivered a little before the nosing went lower. With a surprising amount of dexterity, Kalon's forepaws loosened Pavel's loincloth and pulled it off. The fox's plump, already swollen sheath was, Kalon knew from past experience, big for a Bree, especially one as small as Pavel. The dragon licked along the fox's snowy thigh, relishing in how it made Pavel squirm. The little fox clawed at the grass while his mate took in his scent. Nuzzling against those balls, the sharp vulpine musk caused Kalon's own sheath to stir. Crouched before the fox, Kalon ran his tongue along Pavel's balls. The fox whimpered and rolled his hips when that tongue stroked up his sheath. Already, the tapered red tip of his cock began to peak from its home.

Even a taste of it got a rumbling murr from the dragon. He was no stranger to the pleasures of the flesh, but in this form all of those things became heightened as it both fed his magic and lusts. His heightened senses left him longing for more of the acrid vulpine musk. Pavel squirmed while Kalon's licking became more focused, long, dexterous tongue sliding up his taint, lifting his balls before slipping against his sheath and the cockflesh quickly exposing itself. Kalon's tongue was hot and wet, and in the winter air it left Pavel feeling cold for the few instants it left his body.

Most Pavel's cock now spilled from his sheath. The red organ throbbed against his downy white fur before Kalon's tongue wrapped around the shaft and tugged it into his mouth. When Pavel's tapered cock entered his mate's maw, Pavel moaned and sat up, scrambling to grab something, paws scratching a little at Kalon's head. He whined as the dragon growled, moving forward so Kalon could plant a firm, forepaw on Pavel's chest and push him back down. Being held down like that actually helped the panting fox relax. He did not expect it to feel so good or so much and it caught him by surprise. Kalon had stopped and let Pavel calm down, neither speaking and Kalon refusing to release Pavel's cock from the trap of his wet and hot mouth. It felt so good. That tongue wrapped around the meaty girth of fox cock, eight inches resting across the length of Kalon's muzzle. Pavel's hips twitched a little, and he managed to calm down. He liked this and wanted more. Pavel rubbed the paw on his chest and bucked his hips into Kalon's mouth.

When Kalon felt the fox respond positively he started sucking on his partner's cock. The dragon savored the taste of vulpine dick as he wrapped his tongue around it and sucked. His nose took another breath of his sheath. The dragon felt his cock start to drop from his sheath, and a new scent began to fill the encampment. A scent Kalon knew would quickly have an effect on them both. But it didn't matter—right now he wanted to relish in Pavel's pleasure. All the times the fox rubbed along Kalon's hide or savored his scent, all Pavel's little shudders and gasps and sighs, all of that told Kalon Pavel would be very fun to do this with. The submissive fox whined and scratched at Kalon's paw. His hips jerked forward and back, but Pavel couldn't quite bring himself to fuck Kalon's face. Kalon adored watching that pleasure crash through the fox's body. It made Kalon hot, too, to know he had this power over Pavel right now.

Kalon's mouth completely overwhelmed the poor, virginal fox. That tongue milked and squeezed him, and Pavel's legs began kicking as he felt a familiar tension coil in his balls and belly. He also smelt something now, too. It reminded him of Kalon's usual scent, but it was very male where the scent of his scales felt more neutral. Breathing it in both relaxed Pavel and made him more worked up. He started silently gasping, as that tongue clenched around his shaft in rhythmic sucks. His knot began to inflate around his partner's lips, and Kalon eagerly sucked it into his muzzle. Now the tip of Pavel's cock edged into Kalon's throat, and it only took wriggling his hips a few times before he came. The fox cried out weakly, the sound almost that of a pained animal. His cock ached and Kalon drew his muzzle back when that first string of seed fired inside his maw.

The thick, vulpine cum nearly made Kalon moan around the dick in his mouth. His eyes rolled up a little as he drew back his lips so the shaft stayed only halfway in his mouth, tongue snaking out to coil around Pavel's knot and tug on it more. This made the fox's yip and buck, knot smacking Kalon's snout while spunk fired into his mouth. The fox squirmed in the dragon's grip while Kalon held him down. The amount of cum the fox unloaded quickly exceeded Kalon's expectations as his mouth filled with so much fox cum he needed to swallow the bitter, salty mixture. He did moan then, the rumble from his throat working vibrations around Pavel's cock as those surprisingly productive vulpine balls unloaded nearly another mouthful into Kalon's mouth.

This time he did not swallow, but Kalon released the red prick, which flopped across his fox's white belly. His fox panted and stared blankly at the sky until Kalon pressed their muzzles together. Pavel understood and opened his lips and they joined in a mismatched kiss while Kalon shared his fox's cum. The dragon's bigger tongue shoved thick globs of seed into Pavel's muzzle while his fox whined and squirmed, eagerly receiving the kiss and licking and swallowing what Kalon messily deposited into his mouth. The smell of Kalon now affected both males, and despite cumming harder than ever before, Pavel was still hard and completely ready to service his mate.

Words seemed out of reach for both in the breathless moment of their kiss, but when Pavel's paws stroked Kalon's jaw the dragon understood and pulled away, sitting back to expose himself. Pavel sat up and gasped at the sight of Kalon's cock. It nearly hung down from the weight, about a foot of dark cockflesh resembling that of a horse's with a flat head and urethra so large Pavel could see it winking at him. A strand of pre cum dangled from the tip of the cock in a long, sticky string. Soon it was tangled in Pavel's paw, the fox having crawled over and now reaching for that impressive shaft. The big dragon shuddered when the soft paw pads on Pavel's digits closed around the shaft. It took both to circle the girth of that meaty, equine-like endowment. Pavel nuzzled the black spire, feeling the heat and heartbeat of his mate. And that scent. Kalon was right. Pavel did feel a fog falling over him, a numbing buzz of pleasure that made his cock throb and drip onto the grass. His musk, each breath made Pavel more compliant, easier to lead. To control.

Pavel giggled a little, leaning forward and pressing Kalon's dick to the dragon's soft underbelly. He rubbed his face against the breeding organ, that scent quickly burrowing into his fur. Kalon growled and a large forepaw pushed Pavel further down. His fox's nose returned to those scaly balls, the entire sack and scrotum nearly as big as Pavel's head. Cold nose twitched against Kalon's sack, then a long tongue started to lick there. Pavel moaned when he tasted the musky flavor of those scales. The natural heat of Kalon made the sack enticingly warm, and a sheen of salty, male flavor seemed to coat the fine orange scales of his sack. Pavel bowed before the dragon's sack like a peasant before a king, and quaked while he worshipped each nut. Each one was so heavy his tongue could not lift it, and Pavel needed to smother his white muzzle in the sack to move those orbs. He did not mind that though. It promised more of Kalon's scent. Pavel's cock now dripped consistent thick beads of pre, and he knew even a few touches to his red prick might send him over the edge. Pavel didn't dare, though. His paws hefted and cradled the dragon's magnificent balls to make sure Pavel licked across every part of them.

Only then did Kalon lift the forepaw on his fox's nape. Whimpering, Pavel nuzzled back up to the dragon's cock, which had been matting the fox's back with pre cum. That oily equine cock made Pavel groan when his tongue tasted it. An explosion of masculine flavor left him rooted in place, tail twitching while his brain tried to process an intense wave of pleasure. He still did not cum, but Pavel felt dangerously close to an addiction. He began lapping up that shaft while pre seminal fluid dripped down to his muzzle and tongue. That slimy mixture of salt and draconic male quickly coated Pavel's tongue. When the arctic fox reached the head, he lapped around those wide glans before tonguing the urethra, the pointed tip of his tongue dipping inside that cock for a moment. This made Kalon snarl and buck. The force of his thrust shoved his fox away, and before he could come running back Kalon growled, “On your knees."

His fox complied, panting while as his ass raised and his tail swished in the air behind him. Kalon growled and licked his chops. Pavel lived the life of a hunter, and his lithe little body was tightly muscled. His ass Kalon took notice of early on their journey. A plump tush of white fur with the promising bright pink flesh of his unused rim. Kalon's forepaws wrapped around his fox's hips, claws gently digging into Pavel's thighs while Kalon's thumbs rubbed into the flesh of that firmly muscled rear. Nice and supple. He spread his fox's ass and Pavel wriggled in his grip. But most of his fox's usual squirming had been completely quelled by the smothering pheromones of Kalon's musk.

The dragon rubbed his muzzle into his fox's ass, needing to be forceful to spread those cheeks around his snout. His nostrils filled with the rich scent of Pavel's earthier musk. On the exhale, warm breath washed across that hole and tantalized it before Kalon's tongue dropped from his muzzle again. This time it licked the still wet fur of Pavel's balls and trailed upward, pushing against the fox's taint before a slimy trail of spit lined the curve of his backside, teased the flesh of his rim, and ending right underneath his tail. His fox shook when Kalon snarled and began licking more firmly against his mate. Pavel gasped when tongue pierced his entrance. The first entry of his life and the pleasant burn around his asshole made the fox wonder why he'd not tried this sooner.

Kalon murred when penetration brought the sudden taste of Pavel's interior. More of that great tongue pushed inside the fox, who groaned upon feeling full for the first time. Pavel's tail flagged and his hips pushed back. Kalon opened his maw, and drool spilled on Pavel's rear, his tail pushed forward as Kalon's jaw moved to push more tongue deeper into the fox. Till that pink rim was coated in spit and yawning from a slick muscle nearly as thick at its base as Pavel's wrist. The poor fox mewled when that tongue undulated inside him. Kalon held him in place and the fox would have been thrashing had the dragon's scent not made him more complacent. That tongue slaked the pleasurable itch around his asshole, and a fullness lined his hips and lower belly as it lapped inside him. Great globs of spit were shoved into Pavel's interior, making his hole slick and tender. The rim flushed and puffed up a little from the abuse. And still, despite this, Pavel could not cum. The fox felt maddeningly close, but it was like he could not without his mate's permission.

Kalon's tongue slurped free from Pavel's ass. The dragon yanked his fox backwards, getting a yelp from Pavel before his fox felt hot cock grind against his messy ass. The fox scrambled to get back on his hands and knees while Kalon adjusted his position, one forepaw planted over Pavel's shoulder, crouching under his fox. That bushy tail tickled Kalon's belly while his other forepaw reached down to guide his equine shaft. Both mates shuddered when that fat head pushed against Pavel's rump. His fox whined and ground backwards, and Kalon was all too happy to oblige him.

A forward thrust and Pavel felt his ass cave inward to his mate's great cock. It almost felt like getting punched there. If not for the pheromones and the preparation of Kalon's tongue, Pavel might have screamed in pain. The burning spread of that cockhead did hurt, but even that pain felt dizzying and pleasurable. For Kalon, the yielding warmth of those slick, tight walls forced him to pause. He savored the way that ruined ring of muscle clenched and squeezed. The pink rim of flesh twitching around his dark equine cock. Kalon grunted and one of his forepaws wrapped around Pavel's chest. In the dragon's tight grip, when his hips rolled forward more of that cock sunk inside his fox. He felt his little fox's heart racing while he whined and struggled to accept the breeding he was receiving.

Kalon only needed a few pumps before that supple ass took him to his medial ring. Pavel struggled to breathe. But a delightful pressure and tension played through his core down to his thighs. His legs wobbled a little, and his cock fired occasional shots of pre across the grass, leaving dark streaks there. Snow still fell onto the dragon over Pavel, melting instantly at contact with his warm scales and dripping down that great, scaled body like sweat. Kalon's grip on Pavel tightened to the point his claws almost sliced open the fox's flesh, and both mate's moaned when Kalon started drawing his cock back. The swollen, half-flared head tugged at Pavel's entrance, his rim refusing to release it before the dragon slammed forward.

The ecstatic shock of pleasure when that medial ring burst past his entrance and rubbed against his prostate finally made Pavel cum. The fox yipped while his cock swung forward and slapped his belly. His engorged knot throbbed and ached as that first rope of cum fired up against the fox's fur. Soon seed began spilling across the grass in waves. Kalon now pulled back more quickly, and when he ploughed inward again, Pavel was filled to the point of nearly being knocked breathless. The dragon's pendulous balls swung around and smacked Pavel's thighs, his cock slapped his belly again and another splattering of cum coated his belly, which, Pavel finally noticed, had distended some around that equine shaft.

Kalon snarled while his fox's walls spasmed through orgasm. The dragon ignored it, instinct to breed and tie this fox to him taking over any other thought. He would claim Pavel. The arctic fox might break from the spell of his pheromones and beg Kalon not to and it would not matter. The dragon was too far gone to care about anything but spilling his seed into the fox and magically binding them together with it.

If Kalon became reckless and headless with his thrusting, hips punishing the poor fox's ass, draconic cock destroying his asshole, Pavel did not seem to mind. The fog over the fox made all of this one long numbing burst of pleasure. The ecstacy of his orgasm drawn out by Kalon's rough fucking. The dragon's cock glistened when he pulled out, and when he pushed in pre cum and spit pushed out of Pavel's stirred up asshole. Meanwhile, the fox couldn't stop leaking seed onto the grass and his belly, his red vulpine dick swinging back and forth. He did not shoot thick strings of fox spunk anymore, but his cock still dripped it in heavy pearls.

As the dragon's climax started to draw near, Kalon's scales began to glow. He felt a familiar tension in his balls while his dick pounded Kalon's ass into a slick, sloppy mess. Smoke-like wisps of orange and red light began appearing in the air. Pavel felt himself begin to burn up all over. Like fire consumed him, and that extreme sensation made him groan, but it did not hurt. In his vision, he saw wafting embers, like from the coals of an open fire scattered by wind. It swirled in front of him and then Pavel heard Kalon roar over him, loud enough to threaten another avalanche. The dragon hilted himself inside Pavel and pitched backwards onto his haunches, forepaw yanking Pavel up with him. Pavel now sat on the cock that finally seeded him.

That first burning rush of seed blew out Pavel's senses. Thick spunk flooded his core with heat and a strange pleasure, like his whole body was being stimulated in such a way that made the fox feel he might lose his mind. Streams of cum made his stomach feel full, his distended belly swelling while those heavy balls clenched and churned against him. Pavel's eyes stayed wide open in shock as those embers swirled faster and faster, more and more filling his vision. The wisps of light in the campfire suddenly went still, then they surged forward into Pavel's body and a spark of lancing pleasure made the fox cry out. A spray of cum, sudden and strong as a fountain, sprayed from his aching vulpine cock while the embers completely filled his vision in fiery light. The fox's eyes, once hazel and round, became orange, reptilian slits that matched Kalon's in their fiery intensity. Kalon felt an immense release as the bond was sealed, his cock aching and seed now overflowing from the fox, running down his balls and into the grass in thick streams. His newly bonded mate panted weakly, his eyes beautiful and bright as they looked up at Kalon. The dragon nuzzled his fox's shoulder, his back quivering against Kalon's chest. The dragon licked his mate as his balls finally stopped stirring and he quietly whispered, “Mine."

Pavel reached up with trembling paws and grabbed Kalon's horns, holding the dragon close to him while he panted. His body felt warm like Kalon's did, and his eyes felt… sharper. The details in the snow seemed easier to pick out, and he felt lighter than before, but otherwise… otherwise he was simply full of pleasure and warmth. A giddy grin broke his muzzle and he giggled before nuzzling into Kalon's neck. Pavel sealed the promise with a single, joyous word: “Yours."

***

A Bree scout spotted them both as they traipsed out of the foothills side by side. Kalon now walked in his human form again, dressed in the plain white robes of the order of monks he hid within. Pavel's eyes remained the bright orange of Kalon's draconic form, the only tell of their connection. By the time the two reached the edge of the village, a whole crowd of arctic foxes waited for them both. The chief stood at the front of the crowd with several other elders. The shaman with his raven perched on the fox's shoulder was to the chief's left. Pavel noted the corvid with a strange appreciation for the bond the bird shared with the shaman.

Pavel approached with the wolf pelt and set it down at the chief's feet. He announced for the assembly, “For my tribe, the sacred pelt of my kin."

The arctic fox flinched when the crowd cheered. Despite all that changed in their journey, he still did not like sudden, loud bursts of noise.

The shaman took the wolf skin from the snow and went to return it to one of the dens where it would be woven with beads and prayed to for protection before he returned it to Pavel's family.

Bastelle raised his hands and hugged Pavel, the bigger, older arctic fox making Pavel grunt when he was squeezed tight. Bastelle released him and yelled over his noisy tribe, “Well done, nephew! Your rite is nearly complete. You have honored our tribe with a wolf's pelt, now we reward you by letting you choose your first mate. Have you considered your reward on your journey?"

“Yes, chief," Pavel answered. He'd seen this ritual many times. Typically a fox knew before the rite even began who they would select, and so that lucky vulpine waited at the front of the attending crowd. But Pavel had not made any preferences known, so the foxes in the assembly all watched him curiously.

“Then who do you honor with your selection?" Bastelle asked.

Pavel turned his back on the foxes to face his mate with a beaming smile. He lifted a paw and pointed at the human, who blushed but could not withhold his own grin. “I choose Silas, whose true name is Kalon, to be my mate."

Kalon approached and took in his hand the paw Pavel had raised. Kalon kissed it, and, the two locking gazes, Kalon repeated the ritual words of acceptance for the assembly, “I am honored, and accept this honor for the spirit you've brought here to claim this right." He kissed Pavel on the muzzle before pulling the shorter fox's head against his chest.

Pavel felt such a rush of fluttering giddy, joy, he almost didn't hear the chief say, “But who will represent the family of the human's?"

Pavel stayed nuzzled against Kalon's chest, relishing his familiar scent and listening to the gentle beat of his mate's heart. Kalon answered Bastelle, “It has been nearly two months, do the ten daughters I seeded show signs they carry my blood? Surely that would suffice as a kinship connection."

Kalon admitted the children might be magically imbued and carry the same eyes as Pavel, but the kits would otherwise be normal. His draconic seed was noticeably less potent in a human form. Still, it was potent.

Bastelle began a barking laugh the assembly chorused. It made Pavel wince and squeeze Kalon closer. “So they are!" Bastelle answered. “And so my family and Pavel's shall observe you complete the rite tonight."

Reluctantly, Pavel released his mate and they locked eyes once more before Kalon kissed him again and turned to the chief. “I am ready for your family to prepare me."

Bastelle nodded, and several vixens, most of a height or taller than Pavel, came and led Kalon away. Pavel felt a little flutter of anxiety as his mate was taken from him, but he knew it would be okay. They would see each other again at sunset.

Pavel turned to the chief and said, “I wish to meditate alone in the snows. I will return when it is time to claim my mate." Truly, Pavel would not have minded waiting around in the village, but he knew he would be the center of everyone's attention, which was the last thing the young arctic fox wanted.

“Very well," Bastelle said. “Blessing to you, for the gift of the wolf, and the gift of new kin to my family, Pavel."

***

They washed Kalon's body with rags in the den that housed most of Bastelle's large family. Giggling vixens, some the daughters he bedded with slight swells in their bellies, ran their paws over his body. They rubbed ceremonial oils into his skin. From there, the shaman who received the pelt earlier returned and blessed Kalon. Kalon knew the magics the Bree used were ancient and powerful, and so Kalon respectfully bowed his head while ash streaks were drawn onto his face. The old fox teased him with a gentle, “You are so round and flat, it is more difficult to mark you than a ticklish vixen."

Kalon smiled and gently waited while wards were painted onto his face. He was then given a sparing meal to eat. They cleared the bottom floor of the den with Bastelle's family, roughly thirty foxes, crowding into one side of the floor. The furs of wolves slain by Bastelle's kin were laid over the firepit, and the shaman directed Kalon to sit atop them, facing the family of arctic foxes who watched him.

From the outside of the structure, Pavel waited with his family beside him. Two dozen foxes all quiet for the ceremony, some holding various earthenware bowls in their hands with dyes of different colors. The shaman climbed out of the den and told Pavel's family to join Bastelle's. While they filed away, the old arctic fox approached Pavel. He wore the wolfskin pelt he himself hunted for his rite, and his fur smelt of cedar. Pavel wore nothing, just like Kalon did in the fire pit.

“Your eyes have changed. A new spirit lies within you," the shaman said it without a hint of a question. “I sensed the same spirit when I prepared your mate."

Pavel nodded quietly. “We are bonded, yes."

“You will be bonded more once this rite is over. You know this, yes?"

Pavel's ear twitched and he looked past the shaman to the den. “What do you mean?"

“All rites end with a bonding. I do not know what will happen when these two magics meet. I expect your mate does not know, either. Are you prepared for that?"

Pavel grinned and met the shaman's gaze. “Eager, elder."

A soft smile. “So you should be. When it is finished, both of you come to my den. Your mate is not human, and you will have to entertain this elder with the story of your rite if you wish to keep his old muzzle shut."

Pavel nodded and walked past the elder. Inside Bastelle's den, from the top floor he smelled the rich scent of the foxes crowding the lower room. He took a deep breath and began walking down the stairs.

Kalon was surprised how much he blushed and how nervous he felt. His heart seemed to beat in his throat and his skin broke out in a sweat from the sheer amount of foxes pressed into the room. The borders between the two families had blurred as they circled around the room and crowded right up to the fire pit. Kalon kept his gaze forward as instructed, watching Bastelle as Bastelle watched him. The cheerful chief set his face in an impassive gaze for the ceremony. Bastelle's ear twitched and then Kalon, too, heard his mate walking downstairs. The soft padding of paws on soft, packed dirt. Foxes moved aside as Pavel approached his mate from behind.

Kalon shuddered when a warm paw touched his shoulder. Pavel knelt behind him, and said for the room. “I have come to claim you, Kalon. As is my right, I will have you as my mate."

Kalon did not speak, but Bastelle did. “You who have proven yourself in the long hunt, you honor us by claiming one of our kin. We have prepared him, and wish for you to receive him with all the love our family can muster."

The rest of Bastelle's family chorused this with, “The love of our ancestors."

Then Pavel's slightly smaller family responded with, “May love join our families as one till we too are ancestors."

At the completion of the prayer, Kalon finally faced him. Pavel felt nervous, knowing the entire room watched him, but when Kalon met his now orange gaze and whispered, “You're beautiful," the rest of the room fell away. Pavel kissed him with an urgency they had practiced many nights on their return to the village. Their lips met and their tongues entangled. Pavel's paw pads stroked the larger human's front, grazing a sensitive nipple. Kalon moaned sweetly into the kiss. Pavel kneaded down his side, paws squeezing into his yielding, sweating flesh. The heat of the room made Pavel pant, but against the sharp smell of the surrounding vulpines, he smelled the oils on his mate's skin, and beneath that the distant scent of pine.

Pavel whined and broke the kiss to lick at his human's jaw. Kalon quaked a little against him as Pavel nipped his throat. His sharp canines teased Kalon's delicate brown skin. With his nerves gone, Pavel felt his cock begin to push from his sheath. When he reached down, he felt that his human was already hard. The now strange human cock throbbed in Pavel's paw as he squeezed it. He gently rolled back the foreskin while Kalon lied back on the furs. Pavel followed, lying on top of him and licking along Kalon's collarbone. He growled a little and bit Kalon's clavicle. His cock now spilled on top of the human's endowment. Despite being bigger in size, Pavel's vulpine dick was bigger than Kalon's. Pavel rubbed his shaft against his human. The fluids from his sheath made the rubbing oily and slick.

Normally they would spend time relishing each other's bodies, but with the duties of the ritual, and with the audience, Pavel wanted to waste no time. They could finish here, then travel back outside of the village later in the night where the fox could ride a dragon instead.

Pavel pulled up Kalon's legs, pushing them spread eagle. The short fox now at his human's chest while he lined up his cock to Kalon's rim. He'd already fucked his human before, and with the oils spread across Kalon's body, the entry was easy for his pointed tip. Both mates gasped before the panting fox pushed. His human clamped around his length: the warm, pliable interior yielding to Pavel's dick as it had done so many times before on the journey home. Kalon arched his back and released a long moan. The familiar fullness of Pavel's shaft always left Kalon with a fluttering warmth. The pleasant burn around his rim a welcome embrace. Kalon grabbed his legs and kept them pulled back while his mate hilted in Kalon. He could feel the heartbeat of the fox through his shaft. And Pavel felt Kalon's as well, both mates falling into a synchronous rhythm together. One heart, two bodies entangled in the furs.

Pavel planted a paw on Kalon's front and started working his hips in earnest. His red cock plunged in and out of his mate's ass, white fur sticking a little to brown skin. The fox grabbed his mate's cock and started pumping it. Pre spilled from foreskin and made Pavel's pawpads slick. Kalon grunted and wrestled with the sensation of being stirred up so roughly and quickly. Pavel's grip on his cock was driving him a little wild, too. He was embarrassed how fast he was going to cum. But even being watched by a room of foxes excited Kalon. Pavel, meanwhile, kept his gaze firmly locked on his human's face, worried if he remembered the others in the room he might stop. He wanted this so badly. To deepen their bond even more, as the shaman had said. Pavel would. Kalon would be his just as much as Pavel was Kalon's.

The human felt his orgasm approach first. The slick paw on his cock matched the pace of the tapered dick making a mess of his insides. And eventually Pavel managed to thrust up against his prostate. Kalon screamed when it happened. That first burst of pleasure almost sending him over the edge before the second rub on his prostate did. Pavel battered cum out of his human by stroking his nut. White strands of cum fired across Kalon's brown torso, getting slick with sweat. Kalon's hands roamed across his flat stomach and chest, rubbing his seed into his skin while he rode this out in a broken moan. Pavel whimpered and growled, his thrusting growing more erratic while the base of his cock inflated.

Kalon gasped and begged, “Pavel! Please… tie me."

The white fox, hearing the urges of his human, sent him over the edge. One final thrust popped in his knot just as it finished swelling, that abused rim sealing around the red bulb of flesh. Fuzzy white balls churned against Kalon's ass. Pavel snarled and pushed the human nearly into a C shape to reach up and bite his shoulder in a mating bite. Kalon moaned weakly while fox cum spilled inside him. The virile young fox filled his human with hot spunk, the warmth expanding and blooming outwards from Kalon's core. Pavel breathed furiously through his nose as seed pumped inside his mate, his dick throbbing against Kalon's walls. Cum pressed up against the seal of his tie but stayed. Built up inside his mate. The unknown mixture of magics making Pavel's seed take unexpected root inside Kalon.

The foxes on Pavel's side of the room watched his balls twitch and churn for several minutes while the two partners writhed together, but when they noticed that flow slow they all yipped. The room filled with celebratory calls before the bowls of dye both families prepared were dipped passed around and paws dipped inside them. Paws from Bastelle's family pressed in and rubbed bright red, blues, and ashy grey pawprints across Pavel's fur. The same, in orange, dark green, and black were planted on Kalon's skin. The touch of all these paws combined with the yipping and yowling made Pavel whine a little, but through it all Kalon stroked down his nape and whispered in Pavel's ear, “You did it… I'm yours now Pavel… I'm so happy… I'm proud of you and love you…"

And Pavel loved him, too.

***

The shaman did not lie. After the rite was completed, both mates shared dreams. They began to be able to sense each other's feelings even when they weren't together. Not that they spent most of that winter apart. Except when Pavel needed to hunt (Kalon still was too clumsy to be of any help). Often they spent clear winter days away from the village, as fox and dragon—privately relishing each other's company and renewing their bond. Kalon recorded countless stories of the village, participated in ceremonies, and shared an, albeit amended, version of their story where Pavel saved Kalon from the wolves and helped him recover after the attack.

Pavel felt safer and more confident after the rite as well. He began to sing and dance at ceremonies. He stayed at the edges of the rooms still, and Bree knew the only attention he liked was Kalon's, but he joined in with his tribe like he'd never before.

And through the winter, life swelled in Kalon's belly. Neither knew what to expect of their offspring, but both felt joyous in the promise of its arrival.

When spring came, it did in the usual fashion. As quick as the snows came, warm winds from the south stripped the plains of any trace of frost. Soon as the first bright orange flowers came into bloom, the two chose to leave. They would travel back to Dorek, where other dragons also hid with the monks and they could raise their child in safety. The entire village gathered to watch them go, Bastelle forcing Kalon to promise to return so he could meet the kits he had seeded, and so the village could welcome the child Kalon carried, as well.

They left in each other's arms, both brightly filling the verdant plains with song:

Pavel and Kalon

A fox and a dragon

With nothing between them

But fur and scale and love

Nothing ahead of them

But the dawn sun above