FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Out by Mourner’s Hill

By Laz Briar

Rich woke, the dull chatter of crowd noise washing over him in a wave of airport sounds. He took a sharp breath, stretching, the fog of rest still heavy, clouding his thoughts. He was a dreaming. Dreaming damn fine things too by his weary recollection. Something with a beach, crisp and calm, overseen by gulls. The ocean long and mysterious, accented by a figure lying on the sand, a prone silhouette, a mare. Sierra, specifically.

He rubbed his eyelids with fingers, hoping to recount it. He was there too, in this dream, or so it felt that way. And Sierra? She was quite inviting, conveniently lacking any attire. He reached out, grasping at her, letting palm stride to her haunches and. . .

A headline distracted him. Oh, he was reading, that’s right. In his lap, on page three of the Global Reports column, a bold text snared his eyes: UPK Successfully Cripples Ussadish Regime. Hmph. Underneath the header was a rather self-congratulatory article detailing the exploits of UPK dispatch teams sent to clamp down on Ussad militants, minor combat cells funded by governing regimes – or so the story was. Pocket bands of Ajit-Kor resisted, of course, and humanized with only enough written efficiency to detail how imperative it was they were overthrown. Now, of course, peace could reign. And by peace, it meant third-party governments working on behalf of private interests, thanks to the diligent work of the UPK.

His stomach twisted, cold and sick. Rich glanced up from his reading, watching a family stroll by. He watched a woman sit down with a late evening coffee. He watched an elderly couple feud amongst themselves about the details of their tickets. Something about it was so detached, ignorant. They’d see this on the news today, a quick soundbite, a five-minute blurb from a dazzling show host, much to the adulation of an installed crowd. Told to believe in the good fortunes of the United Peace Keepers, an organization for global order.

God almighty, if only they knew. If only they knew how cheap “peace” was.

He folded the paper and stuffed it back into his coat, out of sight and mind. He’d have more of this red tape to deal with when he got home, he was sure. More meetings, more division of territory, more discussion of what resource to shell off to interested buyers. He was at this for years now, an aid to the devices of the UPK, much to his growing disgust.

That was the worst part. Didn’t matter how much he hated them, didn’t matter how often he scoffed and spat upon the organization. He was still a part of it, and willing or no, he was aiding them. Maybe he didn’t pull the trigger, but the blood sank into his hands, blood of strangers. How did Sierra do it? How did she go, day by day, working as an extension of the organization without a trace of guilt?

Maybe she just ignored it.

But like a lot of things, ignorance wasn’t a solution. How long was Rich going to continue working as a bootlick for this parasitical organization? How long was he going to tolerate helping their bottom line? Here he was, at the crossroads of the airport, observing the lives of others who were entirely unaware of how things really worked. And they didn’t know because of people like him, who kept the UPK’s dirty laundry nice and hidden.

Was he going to live the rest of his life this way, counting up the sins, drowning in the blood of people around the world? Was he going to let this keep happening?

He rubbed his head. He thought about his job and thought about Sierra. Thought about things he wanted to do, to create, especially with her. He had knowledge, she had combat expertise. Could they do something? If he truly believed the UPK was rotten from within, then he wanted to do something about it. Not alone. But with Sierra?

He was due for a flight in an hour, back to the UPK headquarters. Unless he did something. Unless he went somewhere else. Somewhere obscure, out of the way, in relative safety. The UPK didn’t take kindly to their crows leaving the nest unattended, surely they’d hunt him down if they thought he was up to something. But he knew them, knew their inner workings, procedures. He could stay a few steps ahead while setting up in the meantime.

Setting up? For what?

The very thing I need to do some good, thought Rich. It wasn’t enough to have disdain for the organization, he needed to be better, work against them, counter them. With Sierra? Anything was possible.

But where to begin? This feeling, this idea, it was abrupt but overwhelming. He realized now was the time to act while he still had the chance. Hmm. He stood, skirting through crowds to find a new flight schedule. Most were major city names too easy to recognize. He needed something smaller, local. Hell, the boonies if need be.

Huh. There was a late evening flight at seven to a place he’d never heard of before. Sherrith Airport, Shady Vale.

Shady Vale. . .

Something about the name was enchanting. Or perhaps that was his excitement and wanderlust kicking in. No time to think about it long, though, the flight was due to leave in an hour and a half. But it could work. No, not could, it had to.

Hmph. He traded in his ticket. He reassigned his path. He wasn’t going back to the UPK – never again. It was time for a change.

-*-

“You can’t be serious.”

It was a feat in itself to convince Sierra to come all this way on a whim. She was, after all, valuable UPK “property,” a hired trigger single handedly responsible for the success of numerous intercontinental sorties. One couldn’t just run off with someone like that and expect there to be no consequences. So, naturally, Rich ran off with her.

“Of course I am,” said Rich, staring at the motel ceiling. There was a particularly ugly stain of black on it, and he couldn’t help but muse over it like a shape.

“Counter operations are a big fucking deal, Richy boy,” his mutual shot back. Sierra was in the small king bed next to his, flicking over the local cable stations, in casual attire. Casual meaning a tee shirt that hardly fit and panties. She wasn’t much for prudence.

“I know,” he said. “I know that more than anyone. But I have to do this. I have to. It’s the right thing.”

Sierra shot him a look, stopping on a news station. “The right thing? Jee-zus, when did you get so uppity about that?”

He frowned. “Uppity?”

The mare huffed. “Yeah. Uppity. Awful big career change you have there. From dark money to self-proclaimed hero?”

He turned to look at her, the dull television light washing over her brown coat. “I never claimed to be a hero.”

“No, but you’re implying it.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

She shrugged. “It’s just unrealistic. How the hell do you think you’re gonna’ pull that off? You work for the UPK. You know how big they are. Going solo? Are you asking for a life sentence in some blackout prison?”

Rich wasn’t deterred. “I know the risks.”

Sierra tossed her head back with laugher. “They all say that shit until they have a carbon rod shoved up their ass.”

“Well, I’ve got something the UPK doesn’t.”

“A steel colon?”

Rich smirked. “Nope. You.”

Sierra looked at him again, a pregnant pause filling the air. The fuzzy, static-laden voice of a weather report echoed off the cheap motel walls as the mare considered, musing over the words.

“Pfft. So, what, I’m workin’ for you now?”

Rich blinked. “Uh. Hm. I guess.”

Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t entirely sure if Sierra really wanted to go along with all this. What was their relationship, anyway? Truly? He was, in a sense, her handler, responsible for organizing and directing missions on behalf of the UPK. She was a fighter, a killer, a soldier, a weapon. She took what she wanted and she didn’t like wasting time – that meant her approach to. relationships was rather forward, to put it mildly.

They were friends, he at least knew that. But to ask someone like her to leave the UPK was an immense thing. He was going his own way, risk and all. But her?

“Hah. And what kind of salary should I be expecting?”

Ah, well, of course. Money was the bottom line to things, wasn’t it? Rich coughed. “Er, well, initial investment may be sparse and I don’t expect as much as. . .”

Sierra raised a hand. “Relax, relax. I’m kidding.”

“Oh.”

Another pause. Sierra turned her attention back to the telly. The broadcast was fuzzy and the local temperature wasn’t encouraging either. This place, Shady Vale, was exactly what Rich needed for a convenient hiding place. The weather, though, wasn’t eager to make it easy for him. Mid-eighties to high nineties through the entire week with chances of heavy rain by Sunday. Humid. Loud, stifling cicadas. One town with only so much activity. A far cry from the city he worked at.

But it was a nice place, rustic and innocent. There was a sense of community here – and he guessed if the area wasn’t so big, everyone knew everybody else. Even the teller from when he rented the room had a familial feel to them, grumpy and old as they were. It all served as a reminder, a motivation for Rich, because god knew his actions indirectly caused the destruction of little homesteads like this – just in places he never saw.

“I guess it could be worse,” Sierra started again. “This is place is. . . okay.”

“What? The town?”

Sierra hopped up, going to one of the dismal tables inside the motel, ruffling through a bag of ‘groceries.’ In it was a can of ‘insta-ramen,’ the kind that auto-heated when it was pulled open.

“Yeah,” she said, pulling on the cup. “Never heard of this dink place. Shady Vale? What the shit? But, you know.”

Rich did his best to ignore the slope her rump which peaked out quite nicely from the grip of panties. He wasn’t as bashful these days about it, but, best not get distracted, even if Sierra made it a point to show it off.

As the cup steamed to life, she looked back to the television, which flickered to a commercial, some local thing about deals on TJ Tom’s Tallahassee Car Shop.

“It’s a lot like home,” she continued. “Quiet little place. Everyone knows everyone else. Nice community. Didn’t think towns like this even existed anymore.”

Rich blinked. This surprised him – he chose the location because of its obscurity, not necessarily for its rural roots. If Sierra took a shine to it, or at least sounded that way, all the better. “Same, same,” he offered.

“We wouldn’t have much,” he added. “But it’d be ours, at least.”

The cup finished steaming and Sierra grabbed a fork, shoving it into the soupy mass. “You talkin’ a home or a counter-operations outfit, Richy boy?”

A home? Rich cleared his throat. “Ah, well. Both, I guess.”

She smirked, fishing some of the noodles and shoving it into her maw. “Guess we can’t go back now anyway.”

Rich nodded. “Yeah. This is it Sierra. No changing minds now.”

No going back, he thought. Shit. He was really doing this, huh?

-*-

Morning came and Rich was eager to get to work, and by work, find a location suitable for his new operation. It wasn’t too hard – he asked around for properties either for sale or rent. Most of the townsfolk suggested apartments for newcomers (and it was exceedingly obvious Rich wasn’t from around the Vale) – but he needed something permanent. Fighting a massive military organization in a studio building wasn’t going to cut it.

One person pointed him to Morgan and Morgan Real Estate, a quaint little building in the middle of town with Jared Morgan and his wife, Audra Morgan, one a ram, the other a lamb. They had a tired enthusiasm to them, one that struggled to maintain itself, so to speak. Rich imagined business wasn’t booming when the younger generation couldn’t afford personal housing, so they clung to him like a leech.

“What are ya’ after, sonny?” Jared said.

“Professional? Cozy? Homey? Modern? Rustic? Rural?” Audra queried.

Rich was sure three of those were the same. But, he instructed them he needed something for two that was out of the way, preferably hard to find. It caused the two some pause. Jared dawned an expression of cautious concern, glancing to his wife. Desperation urged them on.

“Well. . .” the ram started, rubbing his head. “There’s this little fixer upper by Mourner’s Hill. Has a great view of Lake Perala.”

Rich paused. “Fixer upper?”

Audra erupted with nervous laughter. “Oh, nothing terrible! Just needs some elbow grease and love, hahaha!”

That sounded. . . promising? Well, he wasn’t going to complain. If it was private, that was all he needed. The two pointed it out on a map and sure enough, the cabin they referred to was surrounded by forest and at least five miles out of town. The lake offered quite a view too – something ideal for security. It wasn’t a modern apartment with the latest in smart-doors, but it was a place he could build on, a home, a headquarters.

“That’ll do,” Rich said. The two nearly collapsed, attempting to hide their immediate astonishment and relief.

“R-really? Oh, ahahah, of course yes, of course!” Jared exclaimed, clapping Rich on the shoulder. Hmm. Guess this place was a hard sell.

Rich wasn’t worried. He got through the rather brief paperwork and put down the entire payment. He was able to move most of his funds to a hidden account, though the rest of his UPK money was up for grabs soon. Couldn’t move too much or they’d get wise. The realtors, in the meantime, looked ready to explode. Once they realized Rich wasn’t joking, he could tell they were seconds from screaming in jubilation.

Sierra was waiting for him outside when he wrapped up, having picked up a rental jeep and – to his delight – new clothes. Lots of denim and a pair of shades, quite fitting for a wild mare like herself.

“Well?” she said as he came to her.

“I found a place,” he said, offering a weak smile. “It’s a um. Fixer upper.”

At once, the mare groaned. “A fixer. . . ugh, Rich, what the fuck did you do!?”

“Hey, hey! It’s a cabin by the lake! Perfect for what we need!”

She leaned on the vehicle and shook her head. “Rich. Rich. ‘Fixer upper’ is sleaze talk for pile of shit. Did you even look at the place?”

“I saw pictures.”

“Oh god.”

He raised a hand in reassurance. “It’ll be fine. Best I could do, everything else was too busy, too small, or too obvious.”

“Yeah, but. . .”

Rich was determined. The sooner they got started, the better. “Oh, come on, I thought you liked a little labor?”

She shot him a look. “Oh why, because I was a soldier? Ugh. You’re doing the heavy lifting, you know that?”

After a few more ‘grievances’ were discussed, the two hopped in the rental and made their way to the cabin. It wasn’t hard to find – Shady Vale was a clustered down, but kept together, small. You could see the old monastery from anywhere in town, sitting on its tall hill, while the streets were tight veins of small shops – all local. There wasn’t even an All Mart grocery. Every modern and general convenience experience by most of the States was absent here. Only thing was a fast food chain, of course.

It was. . . nice, if Rich was honest. A true escape. He was so used the whir-and-buzz of smartphone this and electronic that. His world was one of numbers and deals and money. It lacked understanding, empathy. The UPK was out of touch, a for-profit organization. But this place? There was a feeling to it, an underlying sense of compassion. An unspoken bond – a sensation absent considering his old work.

This idea solidified itself when the vision of the cabin swam up to him, down the path of a gravel-ridden trail, past a limp mailbox. Surrounded by trees, vines, and overgrowth was the location of choice, the “estate” where Rich and Sierra would begin fostering their plans and working against the UPK.

“Holy shit it’s a dump.”

Sierra gawked as she flicked off the rumbling jeep, flicking up her shades. Indeed, before them was a building one could only describe as ruinous. Building, too, was generous. The cabin was large enough for a pair like Rich and Sierra, but only that. Its windows were layered with dust, some cracked, and the wood was entangled with an invasive vine. The roof needed re-shingling and cleaning, and its smokestack was engulfed by the nest of a bird family. The door, painted an awful shade of green, was limp, ready to fall off at the slightest touch.

If it had one redeeming quality, it was the view. Past it, down a sloping hill, was the mentioned Lake Perala, a serene sheet of blue overseen by sentries of massive evergreens, undisturbed. On its opposite side there were a few more houses, and the monastery overlooked it with pious tranquility. At the least, doubtful the UPK would come sniffing around here.

“It’s not that bad,” said Rich as he stepped out of the jeep with Sierra. As he did, the door wheezed and whined, falling to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dirt.

“Hmm.”

Sierra grimaced, shaking head. “Are you kidding me with this?”

Rich blinked. “It just needs. . . a little love.”

“If I throw a rock at it, it’ll fall down.”

“So, a LOT of love.”

Sierra grunted, waltzing toward it, hands on hips. She went to the fallen door, kicking it aside with surprising strength, making a face. Rich couldn’t help but chuckle. He wasn’t sure why, but it amused him, this sight, to see a woman, a weapon like Sierra in an environment that wasn’t a warzone. He didn’t remember the last time he knew her like this.

She entered, and a series of yelps and curses echoed from the interior. Uh oh. Rich’s chuckles faded as he realized the daunting task ahead of him. Amusement aside, this really was a shitshack. The place was in disrepair and didn’t even look connected to a power line.

Gulping, he followed Sierra and went inside.

It was worse. The walls were worn by age and storm, cracked debris all along the floors, and a terrible musk stung the air. There were no working lights, or water, or anything. A gentle heat clung to the interior. Aw shit. How was he going to implement operations from this little dive without even a hint of power?

Sierra appeared in the ‘living room,’ which was a small quarters leading to a separate set of doors. She wore an annoyed frown, smacking the wall with a fist as fresh cracks splintered from the blow.

“Hmph.”

Rich wasn’t sure if that was a demonstration of her strength or a sign of how fragile this place really was. Probably both.

“Okay, look,” he started. “I know it seems rough. . .”

Sierra snorted. “Rough? Losing a bet is rough. Getting into bar fights is rough. Scuffing your knee is rough. This!?”

Despite everything, Rich wasn’t wouldn’t be deterred. “Bad. Yeah. But I’ll take this over what I had any day.”

“You won’t be saying that when you’re shitting in the woods.”

Rich shrugged. “Could be worse. Hey, come on, you said you liked this place.”

Sierra grumbled, shaking her head. “Yeah, and I closed out all the shit I didn’t want to remember.”

“Is this really that bad for you? Come on.”

“Hey.”

She pointed a threatening finger. “Remember, I gave up everything to join you on this little volunteer venture, numb nuts. Didn’t think I’d come back to goddamn Deliverance.”

Rich paused. True, she really did drop everything for him, didn’t she? With no promise of pay or anything beyond the notion they’d work together to fight the UPK. Rich didn’t know how specifically, didn’t know how he’d thwart such a massive entity of power and dark money. But he did know one thing, Sierra was with him.

“Well. . .” he said, rubbing his neck as a small insect scuttled across the dirty floor. “You don’t have to stay.”

Sierra stared at him, quirk a brow. “Really? Oh, lighten up Richy boy. This place is a dive. It’s worse than a dumpster. But if I didn’t want to stick around, I’d have left when the teller at the motel smiled with his fake teeth.”

Ghg. Rich tried not to remember – there were some things a man shouldn’t see.

“True,” he conceded. “Well. Thank you.”

She gave another mare-snort, hoofing at the floor. “Don’t thank me, just eventually pay me. And figure your shit out.”

She swaggered passed him, going to a light switch and flicking it. Nothing turned on, of course. When she went to the sink, same story: no running water.

“Fuck.”

The mare looked back to him. “Dump aside, we need to get busy quick. No power, no water, means we’re in survival mode until this wreck is fixed up.”

Rich blinked. She was right about that too. The realization that oh shit, we don’t have water crept up on him. Clean water, that is. And in that same moment of realization, Rich reflected he’d never gone without, really. Not in this kind of way. He was lost then – he’d never had to survive in such a particular way. He wasn’t helpless, but always there was the assumption he’d return to “normal living” if he was, say, out on a camping trip.

“What do we do?” he asked, honest. He was out of his depth here.

Sierra sighed, hands going to hips as she gazed around, taking stock of everything. “Guess we’re lucky there’s a lake.”

She noted off their necessities on fingers. “Power, food, water, for starters. It’s warm so we’re good on heat, for now. Means we need water filters, supplies, and a generator, at least until we fix this garbage heap.”

Sierra looked at him. “Hope you’re planning on emptying those pockets, smart guy. It’s gonna’ take a lot for repair.”

Rich shrugged. He didn’t care much at this point. Money was only needed for his work, but beyond that, he had accepted it was a thing of the past. He’d seen what it led to, what it accomplished. He wanted no part of that unless it was for stopping the UPK.

“It’ll be worth it,” he said. “Whatever we need.”

“Lucky I’m around,” Sierra shot back. “Betcha’ the carpenters in this town would charge a body’s worth of transplants to fix this place.”

She went back to the door. “But first, supplies.”

This translated to scoping out the exterior the cabin as Sierra made note of what they’d need. At the least, the earth around it was fertile – if overgrown by intrusive vines and plants. They could start a garden, gain some self-sufficiency, even make use of solar power if they cleared out some branches from opposing trees. It was a good start.

In the meantime, the pair returned to Shady Vale, visiting some of the local places. Sierra was quick to grab them an all-purpose generator which would serve as their “nerve cluster” until things were fixed up. Water filters, camping tents, and easy-make foods were next, along with ways to make food outdoors. They’d have to rely on this for a while – though Rich didn’t mind. In fact, he found it rather exciting, pitting himself against the elements, going without his usual comforts. Often, one couldn’t know themselves until they tested their mettle against nature and disorder. Just like he with the UPK.

Of course, Sierra was quick to pick herself up a small arsenal of weapons. A handgun, shotgun, and assault rifle were in order, along with enough rounds to knock down a small bunker. Naturally, she couldn’t bring along her military issue gear. Anti-material rifles with suppressors the size of an infants arm typically aroused alarm. By the time she was geared out, she could likely take on the town’s entire police force, and then some.

Oddly, nobody batted an eye when she made her purchases. In fact, the cashier seemed overjoyed to make the sale. That was as comforting as it was bothersome, but Rich shrugged it off. As long as nobody reported the duo or made a fuss about strangers buying a lot of guns, he was fine.

By the time they returned, it was late evening. The sun was gently hugging the horizon and the gentle hint of twilight drew across the sky. They didn’t have time to do any meaningful repairs, so, it was camping for the night.

It was also where Rich noted Sierra had bought one. Not that he had problems with sleeping with Sierra. Far from it. But he wasn’t sure about, well, them. Not entirely. They’d done things together, but were they just playful things? Friendly things? Sierra always was a straight shooter, Rich told himself. Easy to interpret her things as something else. But what if. . .

His thoughts were pulled aside by the crackle of fire.

“You can at least cook, right?”

Sierra had set up a few logs and made a small pit, a few unused skillets next to a bag of various foods. Her diet was quite specific, a high protein yield selection of vegetables and some local brand hay. Rich, of course, wasn’t exactly a vegetarian.

“I’m not that inept,” he said. He’d picked himself up a few cuts of sausage and potatoes, which would do him service for the night. There was a slab of butter he tossed in with the skillet, above the fire, skinning and cutting the potatoes until it reached a fine sizzle. Wasn’t much, but it would provide nutrition enough for the hard labor ahead – no doubt there was plenty to be spared.

Sierra fixed herself up and they ate in relative quiet. A different quiet. No matter where he was, Rich was used to the dull ambient background noises of something in the air. City arguments, chorus of car horns, cellphones ringing, endless chatter, even the dull humming lights of his business complex – it was always there. Always suffocating, dreary and heavy. But this?

Around them the forest came to life in an orchestra of chirps and twitters, little crickets married to the sight of pulsing fireflies and fluttering moths. Non-chimera bats took to flight, chasing down their nocturnal pray while the night sky was clear, sprinkled with glimmering stars. Not a skyscraper to be seen. Light poured from the fire, washing the pair with fading orange glows, cracking and hissing as it bathed them in generous heat. Peaceful, welcoming. This was nice.

Rich also realized he’d never seen Sierra like this. She ate through her food with methodic patience, none of it rushed. Normally, on the field there was little time to eat, but now? She looked reserved, laid back. Her frame didn’t carry the same locked tension she normally wore, where her ears always flagged, as if listening for the next threat. It was both her biology as a mare and experience as a soldier. All if it was gone now, all of the anxiety and concern.

It didn’t help she was quite pretty in the firelight. She was only in sports top and shorts, given the work the two had to do for the day, and it hugged her nicely. The delicate hint of chorded muscle branched through her frame, pushing through her brown coat, and if Rich paid attention her breasts heaved just so with every breath. Not that he was, or anything. Not at all.

After a while, Sierra set down her plate and sighed. “Welp. Should probably clean up.”

Rich, at first, assumed she meant the dishes they used. “Sure.”

It was when Sierra stood and started fussing with her top that he gawked, realizing she wasn’t talking about the dishes.

“You know, I actually checked the water earlier. Not too bad. No pollutants, no lake scum. Damn clean. Not that you’d want to know, drink it.”

“Uh. . .”

Rich blinked. He didn’t have long to process the what as Sierra slipped off her top, allowing her bosoms to bounce free. As usual, they were weighty things, heavy slopes about the size of his head, give or take. Military training aside, it took nothing away from her womanly assets, and she was equipped.

Sierra stretched a little, folding the top in her arm. She glanced to Rich, giving him an expected glance. “Well. You coming, or what? If you don’t bathe, you don’t sleep in the tent.”

Before, in the earliest days of their relationship, Rich might’ve chuckled and politely declined. He was always reserved and uncertain, but now? Who cared, really? He wasn’t at the UPK. Wasn’t necessary to keep up appearances anymore. Besides, he certainly liked her a whole lot, and having a chance at her nake frame was an offer too good to pass up.

I might be in a little bit, he thought, amused.

“Sheesh, you’re so pushy, Sierra. If you insist.”

Sierra scoffed and pointed. “Don’t get snappy. And grab the soap, would ya’?”

He nodded, playful. “Yes ma’am.”

Along with some towels, he followed the mare down to Perala Lake, which shivered like a quiet sheet of black against the night sky. Stars reflected in its dark water while dancing fireflies pulsed around its edges, offering an enticing view. Not as enticing as Sierra, of course. Certainly, it was hard not to stare. Every step she took forced a wobble through her mesmerizing front, hefty tits tossing and clapping together. Her hips swayed in gentle throws, accented by her short tail which wiggled at each movement. Rich felt himself grow hot, though he did his best to keep it under control. This was just a friendly wash, right?

Well, if you define washing a girl’s bust as friendly, then it’s real friendly, he thought.

At the edge, Sierra dipped a hoof in the water, nickering. “Hmph. A little cold.”

It didn’t deter her, as in the next moment her fingers went to sides, slipping her pants down along with panties, setting them aside in the grass. At once, dull moonlight caught her form, tickling coat with pale strokes of white rays. Rich cleared his throat, his chest hot, his blood rising.

“We’d better keep warm then,” he offered, suggestive. “Better stick close.”

Sierra looked over at him, surprised. Not a bad surprised – no. A smirk pulled at her lips, as if glad Rich finally started to get the idea. She was always the forward one. Not that Rich minded but, she was a mare, and it was important for her steed to take charge from time to time. He was technically her boss, after all.

“Well, now you’re getting the idea,” Sierra said, gesturing at him, turning slightly as her lofty front wiggled together.

“You planning on bathing in your clothes, smart guy?”

Rich blinked, realizing he was still clothed. For a moment, he hesitated. A small thought pecked at him – what if someone saw? Then another part challenged: who cares? It was as unlikely as it was foolish. They were secluded out here for the most part, barring some distant houses on the farthest side of the lake. Unless there was some vagrant scoping people out on Mourner’s Hill, it was hardly anything to be concerned with.

“Maybe I need help,” Rich added, ideas running through him. Sierra laughed.

“Get your ass over here, god.”

Ah well, maybe another time. But Rich was more than happy to oblige, stripping down and setting his attire aside next to Sierra’s pile. His flank stirred, of course, a man can’t ogle so much mare and not get bothered. She didn’t mind though, gesturing for him to come forward.

As he did, she caught him off guard. With surprising strength, Sierra yanked him by the wrist and pushed him into the water. Rich stumbled, falling into the rather cold water, gasping aloud as the black liquid consumed him. With a loud yelp, he gasped as his entire frame was consumed with icy dark.

“Holy SHIT!” he screamed, panting in the water, pushing himself upright. Sierra cackled.

“You almost dropped the soap,” she chided, hand to hip. Rich shot her an amused but annoyed grimace.

“Very funny,” Rich tossed, grumbling. Sierra sauntered forward, entering the water with him.

“It’s hilarious,” she said, snagging a bar of soap and tossing it between hands. As she waded through the water, she loomed over him. It was abundantly clear how much she had over him on size alone – not that Rich minded. Hell, his head came to her tits – hard to feel bothered about that.

She shoved the soap into his hands, Rich shivering from the water. “Well? Let’s clean up.”

The searing want flooding through Rich was enough to keep him warm. Sierra pressed herself close to him, proximity of her frame touching his skin. He shuddered again, but not from the cold water.

“If you say so,” he offered, taking the soap and working it into a lather. As instructed, he started to work and massage his hands into her coat, the delicate sinew of muscle meeting his fingers as he worked. Sierra hummed with approval while the soap found every corner and inch of her body – stomach, shoulders arms. . .

“Hah, pretty careful, aren’t we?” she challenged. Sierra grabbed his hand, forcing it upon one of her hefty breasts.

“Come on, stop fooling around. We both know what you want to do.”

Rich flushed. But, fuck, she was right. He laughed this time, squeezing her bosom. “If you say so.”

He was done feeling all bothered and reserved about his approach to Sierra. He certainly liked her in more ways than one, and damn, if she offered, he was taking. He lathered more soap, gripping the soft bosom and squeezing it, tossing it about. Sierra nickered in approval, tail swishing at his groping hands.

“There we go, g-get the assets nice and clean,” she encouraged, head arching. Rich’s blood went a temperature hotter, if that were even possible, his loins stirring to full mast as he toyed with each tit. He squeezed at her nips, pulling with digits, inciting a pleased grunt from the military mare.

Now, her frame was coating in a soapy lather, white foam clinging to her shapely curves. Rich’s chest heaved with heartbeats, a hammering drumbeat slamming his ribs as the proximity and temptation of the mare’s closeness got him worked up.

“Are we really here to bathe?” he said, finding the bar of soap in hand rather useless now.

Sierra chuckled. “Well, we were. Why? Oh, don’t tell me you want to get dirty, Rich.”

“It was your idea.”

Sierra smirked. “Mmf, you’re the one with your hand all over my tits, Richy boy.”

“You’re not stopping me.”

She shook her head. “Nope. In fact. . .”

An arm curled around his shoulder and pulled him between the apex of her cleavage. At once, Rich was engulfed by the weighty embrace of fat mare front, muffling him. Here he could draw in the scent of her wet coat, a mix of clean water and “hard day’s work.” It enticed him, and only urged his loins on.

“It’s about time, I say,” she said, looking down at his smothered formed. She wiggled a bit, wobbling Rich between her thick chest, where Rich was only too happy to oblige with more massaging, eager squeezes.

“Still, you need to wash me off, so.”

Sierra pushed him off before turning, rippling water as she did. She presented her backside, shapely rump hidden within the black waters and soapy foam. “Get to it.”

Oddly, Rich didn’t feel so cold anymore. Wordlessly, he pushed forward, hands going to her backside and rinsing off the clusters of lather on her body. Naturally, he didn’t only splash clear lakewater, he allowed his digits and palms some exploration, diving into the softness of her frame while also letting fingers dance across the definition of her muscle. Sierra hummed again with more sounds of approval, crossing arms so her slopes squished against the hold of arms.

Rich got closer, back to her chest, his eager, throbbing member quite hungry for attention too. “Hmm, do you need to work out more, Sierra?” he teased, squeezing her plump rear.

“H-huh!?” Sierra snorted. “The fuck did you say?”

“I dunno,” continued Rich, tossing her ass in hands. “Feel a little big down here.”

“Oh, you better watch it, Richy boy,” challenged Sierra.

He snickered, spreading her, before releasing the cheeks with a ‘clap,’ rippling the water. “Or what?”

Sierra grunted, heat spiking through her. “Now when did you get all gung-ho? I like it. Taking what you want, huh?”

Well. Yes. The primal part of Rich’s mind, the animal instinct lurking within every living creature, that beast roused itself from slumber. It was always kept at bay by Rich’s reserved demeanor, shooed aside even when teased. But now, out here in all this? Maybe it was the closeness of nature, or the closeness of Sierra’s wide, thick rump and powerful figure. But whatever the reason, he wanted, and that was enough to change his approach, turn him into a lustful thing. And he liked it.

“You could say that,” he added, stretching Sierra’s rump apart once again, he cleft teased underneath the lake water.

“You know, I’ve been doing all the cleaning here,” he said. “But you haven’t helped me at all!”

“Uh huh,” Sierra said with a knowing snicker. “And somehow I doubt your definition of ‘clean’ is the same.”

“You don’t know that.”

Sierra laughed. “If your dick is any indication, yes, I do.”

Ah, well, he couldn’t help it. Rich was practically rutting into her, though the lake wasn’t such a great spot for. . . intimacy.

“Mind if we warm up back at the tent then?” Rich offered. “Maybe you can dry me off.”

Sierra turned, almost knocking Rich over with the size of her bust. “Do I get bonus pay?”

Rich laughed. “Hah, sure. We’ll call it uh, additional training.”

She snorted, taking the soap and leading Rich out of the cool waters. “Interesting training regimen you have there, Rich.”

They walked back to the cabin where the tent was erect, grabbing their clothes along the way. Of course, neither Sierra or Rich had any intention of putting them back on. Before Rich even processed getting back, the mare yanked him in the tent and pushed him onto one of the sleeping rolls. There was enough cushioning so he didn’t feel the ground, but he landed with an agitated ‘thud’ while the soldier descended upon him.

“Cleaning, huh?” Sierra chimed as she went to all fours, lips curled to a smile. Her mouth neared the erect flank, breathing on the crown as she teased it with the proximity of her tongue. Not touching, only hinting.

“Seems awfully similar to sucking your dick,” she continued, fat bosoms sliding over the root, embracing it with a hug of heavy breasts.

“I n-never said that,” Rich shuddered, watching as Sierra gripped him in an inescapable grasp of her tits. Again, she laughed.

“Rich, please. For once, I’d rather you do.”

He grunted. Damn, she was right. Always blunt, this woman. But again, her time on the field left room for uncertainty. Why dally around what was wanted when tomorrow was never guaranteed?

“Fine,” he conceded. “Then suck it, Sierra. I want to see you do it.”

Words Rich thought he’d never say, but, there they were. And he did. He groaned as Sierra shot back with a harsh squeeze of her front, her dark nips sliding across his erect flesh. The mare toyed with him, gripping the inches in palm, smacking against her weighty orbs, forcing rippling echoes through it as she swayed his cock about like a perverse metronome.

“That’s what I like to here,” Sierra intoned, planting a warm, loud kiss on his crown. “If you wanna’ be a boss, better start acting like it.”

Hmm, a boss, an interesting thought.

Rich didn’t have time to dwell, though, because in a smooth suckling motion, the mare wrapped herlips around his tip, tongue slipping free to swirl it against the head. He moaned out – not just from the sensation, but from the act, the concept of watching a mare like Sierra service his length. He clenched against the bedroll, observing as Sierra nuzzled his inches with her lips, sliding them upon the sides, letting her pink tongue slip free and lap at every bit, even his testes.

“Mhmhm, this might take a moment,” Sierra said as she wiggled her chest. A moment? Rich was fine with that – the longer the better.

Sierra squished her fat tits together, choking his rod her shapely front. She lifted them, tugging at his flesh with her busty vice grip, allowing them to fall. Their weight caused a loud, audible clap, thudding against Rich’s waist as she continued to slurp at his tip, causing it to glisten like a polished weapon.

“Keep going,” Rich commanded. “Take all of it.”

His flesh was hot. Boiling, even. And from this heat a stew of lewd ideas came forward – words and things he always wanted to say but never felt comfortable with. Well, that had changed, and he was happy for it. Sierra’s desire to take “orders” only encouraged Rich, and he was eager to see what his soldier girl would do for him.

“If you insist,” Sierra murmured with a pleased chuckle. But again, Rich felt like taking the reigns.

“That’s sir to you,” he said, finding comfort with his new station.

Sierra glanced at him, fascinated. “Oooh, listen to you. Well, sir yes sir.”

This was met with a flurry of suckles, an assault on cock with her practiced, tight mouth. Rich groaned so loud the crickets quieted, his pole engulfed by her sloppy, hot suckles. Each drag of lips pulled at him, almost lifting him off the bedroll as her lips mashed to the threshold of his cock, tongue slurping free to service the testes. In between her sliding, slick motions she jostled her weighty breasts, eclipsing them in a hold of silky flesh. Her hands massaged and throttled the pike, tossing them with quick rises and falls to coax the cock to life.

“Nnngod, Sierra,” mumbled Rich, somewhat in disbelief but mostly consumed by ecstasy. Sierra popped him free, a trail of saliva dripping from her glistening lips.

“Aye, captain?”

He almost glared at her, his throbbing mast dripping from her attention. “Well don’t stop!” he pleaded, eager for more.

She snickered. “Very well, sir.”

Once again the barrage of motions continued, Sierra engulfing Rich in her tight throat once more. It was easy for her, and she was quite good at it despite her background in the “peacekeeping” business. Rich wondered how, but at this point, who cared? He pet her ears as she worked, watching in amazement as those perfect, puffy lips kept him held, drawing him in, pushing him to an orgasm.

“Fuck, Sierra, can’t. . .”

Hold back, is what he meant. He could only sustain so much teasing and attention before losing it. In a burst of hot pleasure, his cock twitched to life and a rope of issue burst free, soaking the mare’s mouth as she yelped in surprise. She didn’t draw back, however, eyelids fluttering as she mashed her head down, taking in every drop of her “commander’s” issue. Rich wriggled and buckled, helplessly pumping himself into her as she licked him clean, gulping down his offering.

In one slow, tedious motion, she drew back with another ‘pop,’ wiping her mouth. Rich heaved, sweat dappling his form. So much for getting clean.

Sierra licked her lips again, pushing off the young man’s frame. “Hmm, not bad boss.”

Her palm went to Rich’s root, which in post-orgasm, began to soften. But Sierra wasn’t keen on letting Rich settle down that easy. “Oh, but hang on, I bet there’s more ammo in the bunker, eh?”

Rich forced a chuckle. “God, Sierra, please, no puns.”

“That’s not a pun, smart guy.”

Rich wanted to retort, but was cut off by the smooth sensation of her practiced palm stroking him back to life. As the buzz of first orgasm settled, Rich’s cock sprung to hardness once more.

“So, orders boss?”

“Orders?” It was rhetorical, of course he wanted more. But with the first climax fizzling out, the venom was drained out, so to speak. He could think now, thoughts cleared. They were still drowning in want for the mare, but in a different sort of way.

“Sierra. . .” he muttered.

Something clicked. All this time, all this way the mare was with him. He was taking an enormous risk, a huge gamble, a bet on his own life against an organization as sizeable as the UPK. An enterprise with their resources was likely insurmountable as a foe, and yet, Sierra was with him. Sure, she groused and pointed out numerous problems and poked holes, yet despite the odds, she never left. Huh. A warmth spilled into his chest, a different kind, a yearning kind. He didn’t like Sierra just as a friend he could fuck, he. . . felt more.

“Come here,” he said, beckoning for her. She tilted her head, curious, but obliged. The soldier mare rose and sat herself atop his waist, his cock nestled between the immense split of her peach.

“Ugh,” Rich grunted. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

Was she? Yes, yes she was. He was seeing it now, like it was the first time his eyes observed her body. Years ago their first meet was quite formal – a stiff handshake and an awkward cough. Now? So close and intimate. Rich wanted more – but not only what the mare could do for him sexually. He wanted her as more than a friend, a partner, someone at his side. This was. . . an interesting new feeling.

“Am I?” said Sierra with a head tilt. “Cute.”

Cute huh? Guess that was fine. He was happy to be ‘cute’ for her, or whatever she needed. Right now, though, his hunger for her mare frame ignited once again, hot and lustful. His hands clasped her hips and she felt him wiggle against him, jostling her rump, toying with his length. He grunted – she was a heavy thing, a creature of dense muscle and generous assets. Hopefully she didn’t break him in half, much less ruin the tent.

Sierra leaned, granting bess on his forehead, kissing softly. “Guess you’re not too bad looking either, Richy boy.”

Well, any compliment from her was worth its weight in gold. He chuckled, but was cut off as Sierra lifted her hips, her sodden cleft suckling his tip. The dark snatch was like hot, wet silk, a slick fire embracing him in a cushion of inviting softness. She sank, he moaned aloud, she nickered with approval.

As lovers do, Sierra rose and fell with gentle bounces. Each rise and fall forced a wobble through her thick bust as Rich allowed his hands to explore her frame, touching every sinew and dive of her shapely body. He could feel the flex and tone of muscle combined with the supple weight of her chest, thick claps emanating from their coupling as she smacked herself on him. The deep, hot wetness stroked and throttled his cock, and the previous orgasm allowed for generous lubrication as she rode him. It only encouraged his actions, touching and tasting her with his fingers, striding across her rump and bust, pinching at nips, taking whatever he could with his hands.

Sierra, in turn, pinned him with a single arm, pressing into Rich’s shoulder as her hips rose and fell in swifter strikes. Each bounce only hastened, until a vigorous raucous of clapping cheeks slapped against waist, intermixed with the groaning duet of lovers.

“Nnngh, f-fuck yes, that’s my stallion!”

A wave of heat hit Rich like a train, prompting him to thrust upward in a battery of excited motions. Stallion? Him? He didn’t think so, but if Sierra said it, it only prompted him to act the part. Oh yes, he’d be her stallion, and she could ride him as long as she wanted!

Lucky they were so isolated. Around them, the songs of insects and frogs silenced, overwhelmed by the music of intercourse pouring from the duo’s tent. Perhaps in awe or in amazement. No doubt their moans echoed aloud – but it was fine. Rich didn’t care. In fact, he hoped someone heard them. He hoped the whole damn town knew this was his mare, and he was her stallion, and she was riding the fuck out of him.

Rich couldn’t hold on as long as he wanted, though. Assaulted by so much beautiful mare, both figuratively and literally, the dams broke. Another burst of seed erupted from his pike, soaking Sierra’s tunnel. In unison, her fingers slipped to clitoral nub, rubbing it with hungry motions, squeezing at her breast to bring herself to orgasm. Soon, the two were a flooded mess, a small pool of them forming on the bedroll.

In time, their breaths and motions settled. Though, Rich was more out of breath than his counterpart. She was a soldier, after all, no doubt used to things one might label as exhausting. After a while, though, both quieted, the tent warm from their coupling.

Rich chuckled, a dampness smearing his loins. “Well. . . guess we’ll need another dip in the lake.”

Sierras snorted. “Maybe you, but I’m as clean as a fuckin’ spring flower. This was your bright idea, man-in-charge.”

“Well,” he conceded. “Guess I prefer being dirty then.”

Another snicker from the mare. “Oh, you big idiot.”

She fell on him, wrapping an arm around his frame, pull him close. The bedroll provided sufficient space for them both – not like Rich wanted his own at this point.

“Hey, give me some credit,” he tossed back. “I got us out here.”

She nosed his cheek, blowing a huff of hot air against him. “Exactly.”

“Who’s dumb enough to take on something like the UPK?” she continued. “You, apparently.”

Rich frowned. “You don’t approve?”

“Richard, we just fucked. You think I’d follow your ass if I didn’t think there was a chance we’d make it?”

A pause. Rich mused over her words, rather humbled. “You think that, huh?”

“What?”

“That we’ll succeed.”

The mare gave a sleep shrug. “Only if you don’t play your cards like a moron. Thus far, you’re doing all right. Just, fuck, don’t get us killed, okay?”

He kissed her nose. “Shouldn’t I be telling you that? You’re the one with all the guns.”

“I’m not aiming them at a military organization, genius.”

Rich wrapped his arms around her waist. He squeezed her rump, rather harsh. “Hey, I got it covered. You’ve got your orders, so follow them.”

She chuckled. “God, listen to you. One blowjob and you’re acting like a commander.”

“Should I not?”

Sierra rest her head against Rich’s chin. “Nah. Keep it up. Just don’t expect me to like, wiggle my ass for you or something.”

“. . . don’t give me ideas.”

His eyelids closed, heavy with the weight of slumber. Or maybe do, he thought before the embrace of sleep took him.

-*-

Rich woke to an empty tent. A calm chill filled the air and he wrapped himself in bedroll with a long yawn, eyelids fluttering open and shut. Dull sunlight sprinkled in through the tent’s canopy while his ears tickled at the distant sound of waking birds. Early, very early. He was remiss to realize Sierra wasn’t there with him, and in a state of concerned yearning, he pushed himself up, rubbing head.

He felt rested. Incredibly so. Hell, that might’ve been the best goddamn rest he’d had in. . . years. Escaping all the electronic lights and constant hum of city noise did wonders for him. Better yet, there was no unpleasant business to face down. No meetings to attend discussing the fate of foreign nations, no dark money, just a new day.

He was, however, more interested in finding out where Sierra had gone. He didn’t have to look far though. After he threw on his clothes from last night, he pushed out of the tent as the cool morning embraced him. Sierra was near their pit fire, brewing something. He went to her immediately, filled with an invigorated sense of enthusiasm. It was different now, this thing he had with Sierra. It drove him forward, helped him focus, gave purpose to his action, like this was all going to work out.

Maybe it was.

Sierra cast him a quick glance. She was stirring a kettle of food, having fashioned a makeshift spit, axe at her side. She quickly gestured to a pair of foam cups nestled in the ground, balance together.

“Coffee,” she said, before Rich could speak. “Got some. Went and bought a few more things.”

Rich was grateful, taking a seat next to her and grabbing one of the cups. “Thanks.”

Even through the foam, he could tell it was hot, so he didn’t down it at once. “You got up early, huh?”

She shrugged. “I don’t sleep much. You, however.”

Rich chuckled. “Did I snore?”

“Oh, no. You wouldn’t have woken up if you did.”

Rich wasn’t sure how serious she was, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He sipped at the coffee, the hot bitterness warming him, jolt of caffeine slowly taking effect.

“I did more exploring while you were out,” Sierra went on, stirring her food. She pulled out a spoon, a thick layer of viscous grits falling from it before she tossed in some salt and pepper.

“This whole area is a forest. Hardly anything but woods for miles. There’s a few houses around but nothing else, save for that. . . church thing up by the hill.”

Rich listened. It was important to know the place – Shady Vale would be their home for the foreseeable future, after all.

“What else?”

Sierra sampled the grits, blowing off the heated food, making a face. She added more salt before letting the food sit for longer.

“Lake is clean. Probably can fish there, assuming we don’t need a license. Which we probably do. And the land is fertile enough. How many acres did you buy for anyway?”

Rich blinked. “Hmm. About ten, at least.”

Sierra gawked. “Well. Shit. All right. We can work with that.”

She gestured back at the cabin, grabbing her coffee for a long swig. “That, on the other hand. . .”

The mare’s eyes went to the cabin. “Bad wiring. Every window is broken. Dirty. Pest ridden. Some of the wood is mold ridden and might have termites. The only thing that literal shitshack had was good plumbing, if you can believe it. But there’s no running water.”

Rich was surprised too. “It has a pipe to the town?”

“Believe it or not. And a cellar, but it’s crowded with vermin. It’s gonna’ take a lot of work, is what I’m saying.”

Rich paused, considering. She wasn’t wrong – but then again, he expected all that.

“It’s okay,” he said. “We’ll make it work.”

Sierra grumbled. “I’m not even getting into the defenses, Rich.”

“Defenses?”

Sierra stared at him like Rich was growing a second head. “Yes, defenses. Rich, we can’t rely on obscurity alone. The UPK has money. A lot of money. Eventually someone might come snooping around, and we need to be ready. Tripwires, cameras, surveillance, EMPs, a bunker, supplies. . .”

Rich blinked. “Damn, Sierra, we’re not fighting a war.”

“Yes, yes we are. You need to expect the worst, Rich. The only reason they won’t carpet bomb this place is because it’d be a PR nightmare.”

Rich took another sip of coffee before setting it aside. “Oh come on, Sierra, you’re exaggerating. I’m not worth that much trouble.”

She shook her head. “Rich. You should know better. You had eyes on their secrets, and that’s trouble enough.”

“I know, I know it carries some risk, but I sincerely doubt they’d go to extreme lengths.”

Sierra grunted. “Don’t be naïve.”

Rich wasn’t convinced. “Look, if we start acting like people expecting the end of the world, someone’s gonna’ get suspicious. We can’t just put a minefield out in the lawn.”

Sierra stirred the pot again before spooning herself a helping of grits. “Why not?”

“Sierra.”

“You’re really bothered by keeping your ass covered?”

Rich sighed. “We don’t need a machine gun in the mailbox. Look, let’s just take it one step at a time, all right? I don’t even have a setup yet. We have to get electricity, net, everything.”

Sierra didn’t look satisfied. “Hmph.” She gulped down a serving of grits, while Rich joined her. They remained quiet for the rest of the chilly morning, thinking over how best to handle their new arrangement.

There was no easy answer, though. This was the new reality, the new life Rich had entered with his partner. His friend. No. . . his lover. That’s how he felt, anyway. But those feelings aside, there was a different world ahead. Shady Vale was a rural place, its populace ignorant to the likes of what he and Sierra were tangled up in. The last thing he wanted was for them to get caught up in his mess.

When the two finished, they went back to the cabin. Or rather, stood in front of it. As they did, the front door wheezed and collapsed, some of the shingles slipped off, and there was an ominous crack audible from its interior. Rich sighed.

“Well. Guess we better get started.”

This was there home now, out here. Out by Mourner’s Hill.