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Tales Of Morveria: The Restless Priestess

A Sabaarii's Search for Happiness and Meaning Awakens the Darkness of Her Past.

By Mantrid Brizon

Part Six: The Priestess' Journey.

With a powerful shove from an unseen foe, the soldier drops the young Sabaarii cradled in his arms. The terrified girl falls to the ground only to feel her hands suddenly sticky. A strange fluid coats them. It reeks of iron. As the soldier fights back against the beast man, a torch passes overhead, thrown by an unseen warrior. The girl's eyes widen when she sees what it is that all but glues her little hands to the stone road.

Blood. Rivers of crimson flow from the warriors, the iron-clad humans and the powerful Sabaarii of her own kin. Why does she fear her kin? Why does she look for a human to save her? A shriek of pure terror escapes the girl's throat, and hands quickly scoop her up. Another soldier has come to her aid, and just in time for her to see the wounded warrior piercing the heart of the Sabaarii with his sword!

The writhing beast man flails atop the ground for a moment before falling still. He's dead, like so many others. The blood-soaked girl clings to this new warrior, who carries her away from the carnage and toward a hill. As they crest the hill, she sees many scores of human warriors and their support. Wagons stretch for miles, many with iron cages containing beast folk.

The girl sees the cages and tightens her grip. Why can't the beast folk ride with the humans? Where are they taking them?! Curiosity and fear get the better of her, and she cannot help but glance back at the place that was once her home. Her eyes bulge, nearly popping out of her head as another Sabaarii male leaps many feet toward the warrior who carries her.

“Shishaht Hakala'kata!" He roars, a bone-tipped spear raised above his head!

Jolted awake and bolting upright in bed, Nailah pants and gasps for air. Her sapphire eyes scan her surroundings and she discovers that she's safe in their room. It's the dead of night, and her beloved mate, Brevin, sleeps peacefully beside her, though he already begins to stir. How could he not? She can often be quite animate during these nightmares, whimpering and flailing about.

Though it often embarrasses her, Brevin has never complained about being awoken in the dead of night. He's always so concerned for her, so comforting and loving. For as much as she appreciates his affection, a part of her wishes he'd be more upset with her. Why doesn't he yell? Why doesn't he demand her obedience? His aggression often gives her a feeling of stability.

As she catches her breath, she reaches up and rests her hands on her head. Her long, slender fingers and sharp claws run through her ruby hair. She looks around the room a second time, reminding herself that she's no longer in the temple, or the town where she and her mate had spent the majority of their lives. They're not in Sloan anymore, either, though she was quite fond of that town.

Brevin didn't feel he'd put enough distance between them and The Order, not like he ever could, and so they've been perpetually moving, journeying southward. It's been five weeks since their escape, five weeks of travel, and though she should be at peace in her life, her mate always by her side, the nightmares have returned and they're more vivid than ever before.

What brings her such anxiety? Is it the uncertainty of their future, the insecurity of constantly traveling with no destination or end in sight, or is it that her monthly cycle hasn't yet begun? Nailah rests a hand on her belly, then looks to her mate as he pushes himself up. The bed tremors as he rises, the groggy Brevin rubbing the sleep from his tired eyes as he turns to the Sabaarii.

“What's wrong, my sweetroll?" He asks in a hoarse voice.

“I had [a] nightmare." She whimpers, her bottom lip quivering.

“These are happening more often..." He remarks with worry.

“I [can]not control it." She somberly replies, bowing her head in shame.

“I know. I'm not upset. I'm just worried for you."

Brevin slithers closer and rests a hand on her thigh, affectionately rubbing her smooth hide. He leans in and nuzzles her cheek. She can feel his hot breath on her face and neck as he kisses her several times, working his way down.

“I care for you. I care for you so much, Nailah. I don't want the mother of my children to be so distraught. You're far too beautiful. Far too sweet." He speaks between kisses, a hand caressing her side.

The nude Sabaarii trembles, feeling her mate's hands all over her. It's these moments of sensual comfort that make all of the pain and fear go away. If only they could last forever.

“You [are] very sweet. I love you. I love you very much." She says with a lustful huff, her lips curling into a toothy grin.

“And I love you even more, my sweetroll." He coos, nuzzling her cheek before giving her another kiss.

Their tongues entwine, wrestling for dominance. The Sabaarii can feel a heat building, a fire growing within her. Brevin is a good man but he's still a man, and he's never shy about revealing his desires. He has her body whenever he wishes, and he has it with considerable regularity. She's very thankful for that. It makes her feel so feminine.

Just as she begins to lie back, believing this to be a moment of nightly comfort, Brevin pulls their lips apart. He looms over her, like an Alpha, like her King, and gazes with longing. Normally, this makes her melt with desire, but there's a sorrow in his eyes. Something's amiss, and as his female, she must do whatever she can to comfort her protector and provider!

“These dreams... Do you know why they occur?" He finally asks.

“No..." She sighs, at once flattered and distraught that her plight causes him so much discomfort. “I wish I knew [the] cause of [my] nightmares."

“Don't you?" He speaks with stern suspicion.

Gazing upon her mate, she can see the concern written all over his face. He cares for her so much. She knows that if she were to lie to him to ease his mind, he would likely accept it. She could never do that. However accustomed she became to lying, those months when their relationship was still a secret, Brevin is her soulmate and The One hates liars.

They didn't partake in any rituals, nor did they bond themselves within a temple, but Nailah has still pledged her loyalty and devotion to him, that night before they left his family's home, and Brevin pledged in kind. As far as they and their god are concerned, they're now one flesh; Adonai commands that she spend the rest of her life with her husband, and she must follow the tenets of her faith, however difficult.

Seeing the dichotomy within her, Brevin caresses her cheek and gives her a much more tender and loving kiss. His touch cries out to her, tugging at her heartstrings.

“Please, Nailah, I'm your husband. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you." He says as soon as their lips part.

“Mmrrmm..." She whimpers, turning her head away and gripping tightly to the bedsheets. “May we please mate, instead? I always feel good when you [are] inside [of] me."

“Please, don't keep secrets from me." He speaks with a hefty bass in his voice.

“Mmrrmm! ... I... I truly [do] not know what cause[s] [my] nightmares but... But I find [that] I have more nightmares when I [am] anxious and afraid." She sheepishly admits.

“What?! Why are you anxious?! Why are you afraid?!" He asks, his eyes widening with surprise.

“I [am] sorry!" She pleads, pushing herself up and sitting beside him. “I [have] never run away from [the] temple! 'The Order' [is] all I have ever known! I... I love you and I trust you, but this [is] strange for me... We still [do] not have [a] home. We travel very much. Almost every night, our room [is] different. We live as tribals. I [am] nervous and afraid... I fear for our future. I [can]not help but fear. I [am] sorry." She explains, leaning into him.

“It's alright." He coos, taking her into his arms and comforting her, a hand caressing her head, which she rests on his shoulder. “I know this is new to you. It's new to me, too. I've never done anything like this in my life, and it scares me. It scares me so much; I also fear for our future, but I love you, Nailah. I love you like no other, and I want us to have a good life."

Nailah lets out a delighted sigh, closing her eyes and enjoying the warmth of his embrace. However, the primal beast within her expresses revulsion at Brevin's kind and gentle nature. It growls at her for choosing a soft male; a mate without a proper plan to take care of her is no mate at all! It issues commands, suggesting awful and unkind things for her own personal benefit.

The primal creature doesn't care that she has yet to have her monthly bleed, or that Brevin is the only source for the seed that might be growing inside of her womb. The primal beast seeks only the strongest. Nailah forces the voice down, closing her eyes and focusing on the here and now. Her heart is so attached to the human; how could she ever listen to the savage voice and search for a better mate?!

Her love for him makes her trust, and she squeezes him tighter. Even her tail curls around the human, keeping him locked in their embrace. It's a considerable display for any female of the beast folk, to so envelope a male who could, at any moment, take advantage and dominate them. However, it only lasts for a fleeting moment. She cannot control the primal fear, the primitive voice that demands only the fittest survive.

As her frustrations mount, her arms weaken and her tail falls limp before rolling away from him under its own weight. Soon, it's only Brevin who holds her; she turns her head away, her arms hanging limply at her sides as she stares at the wall. The primal beast is gaining strength, and after weeks of battling it, fighting it into submission, she's beginning to lose the war!

“So long as we're together, we'll be alright." He continues.

“You [are] certain?" She pulls away, her voice taking a strangely cold tone.

“Well... Yes!"

The primal beast within her screams.

“See?! I tell you! He [does] not know what he [is] doing! See [the] look on his face?! Why [do] you risk giving your womb to this weakling?! He [is] not strong! He [does] not even have status! Pray you [do] not yet grow his babies inside [of] you! It would not be [a] pleasant moment when we abandon them in [the] forest! You should leave! He [does] not deserve your passion or your glorious body! You will find better! You must find better!!!"

Frustrated by these increasingly powerful thoughts, Nailah rolls out of bed and approaches a window, despite always sleeping naked. She's too eager for the fresh air to care about modesty. In fact, the longer she spends away from the rigidity of the temple, the less modesty matters to her at all, even on good days! It's as if it was never a part of her nature to begin with, and she's been feigning it all this time.

Nailah casually opens the shutters and leans against the windowsill, smelling the sweet jungle air before poking her head outside and peering down at the earthen street three-stories below. Her plump breasts rest atop the windowsill, pushed up by the varnished board. In five weeks of traveling, they've made it a considerable distance, heading south from the region of Vetosk and into Chumar, deep in the territory of the Kingdom of the Ilium Rose.

The changing scenery has been a wonderful distraction, morphing from a somewhat cool temperate forest of spruce, oak, birch and willow, to a lush and ancient jungle of old growth tree and vibrant ferns, all shrouded in a hotter and more humid air. It feels good to her dense, amphibious hide, but a fine locale isn't enough; her growing anxiety will no longer turn a blind eye and her nature is unwilling to compromise. She can feel it inside, like a dam about to burst.

Brevin isn't blind to his mate's gradual change. He knew when he took the Sabaarii female as his bride that this was a possibility. He's pledged his loyalty to her with full knowledge of how the beast folk think and oftentimes behave. After all, he was raised amongst many beast folk - all were owned by the family of childhood friends or neighbors - and he understands their nature.

He had hoped that the rigorous training of the temple would somehow stifle Nailah's primal behavior, silencing the savage beast within her. He had hoped he wouldn't be forced to tame her, but now he stands face-to-face with the truth. He's never been a very aggressive man, but if he doesn't do something, he risks losing the only woman he's ever cared for! He's already endured the side-effects of her growing dissatisfaction.

Sometimes, she snaps at him, and rarely does she follow him with unquestioning loyally; she walks beside or even slightly in front of him, and often questions his leadership, as she's just done. It's a subtle disrespect, but his lenience only sows the seeds of doubt in her mind. She also doesn't dote on him the way that she did when she was living in the temple.

She was eager to satisfy him then, and the whirlwind of passion thoroughly seduced him; it made him say and do many things that shocked him. He knows he has it within him. It's clear that he needs to maintain his dominance, or else... He rises from the bed, preparing himself for a situation he was hoping to avoid.

“Nailah..."

“Hmph..." She huffs.

“Nailah!"

“What?!" She snaps, glancing back with frustration.

Her sapphire eyes widen as he grabs hold of her upper arms. She gasps, her ample breasts jiggling as she's abruptly pulled away from the window, only to let out a frightened squeal as he pushes her against the wall!

“Eee!"

He stares daggers at her, looking deep into her vibrant pools. His hands scurry to her voluptuous body and grab hold of her feminine mounds, and with a breast in each hand, he gives them a firm but playful squeeze.

“B-Brevin?!" She whimpers, her face flushing.

“Don't use that tone with me, and never walk away from me... Not until I'm done talking to you..." He growls, fondling her chest.

“Brev-!"

He doesn't allow her to finish speaking, claiming a kiss with the confidence of a man twice his size. She feels his tongue wrestling with hers. It takes her by surprise. He hasn't been this rough since they were meeting in secret, when she still resided within the temple! Their lips part, and a string of saliva bridges the gap between them.

“And never stand in front of a window like that. Who are you to show yourself to the world?! Who are you to show your body to others?! It belongs to me!"

“B-but it [is] night! Th-there [is]no one to see me!" She tries to slink away, her head bowing and sinking toward her shoulders.

“Be quiet... You're my female! None may see your naked body except for me. It's mine..." He growls, already uncomfortable with himself for berating her so harshly.

“Ooh..." She coos, her blushing only deepening with her desire.

“These..." He squeezes her breasts. “These belong to me... And so does this..."

She gasps when she feels his hand betwixt her legs, his fingers teasing her in a manner she quite enjoys.

“Wha-... What [are] you doing? Why [did] you change?!" She asks, already huffing with desire and nibbling on her bottom lip.

“I never changed. I have simply been too lenient with you. Too lenient and far too patient..."

He continues to touch her while lying through his teeth. He never wanted to be this rough. It's hard to see her the same way when he's forced to subdue her, dominating her like a wild dog, but how else is he to make a beast woman submit?

“Y-you... Hhff! You [did] not change?!" She gasps, her mate still administering to her loins.

“No, I didn't... You changed." He replies, leaning in and kissing her neck.

“M-me?!" She gasps again, feeling a finger easing its way inside of her.

“Yes... You indulge your primitive nature. You're a savage. You disappoint me..." He continues, wiggling his finger about and sending shivers throughout her core. “It's clear that I cannot be so soft with you, anymore. You must learn your place..."

Though he struggles to be so aggressive, especially to a woman who has always appeared to be such a delicate flower, he cannot deny how she quivers, how she relishes this. If he were being honest with himself, so does he. He feels his manhood swelling, his aggression alone spurring his arousal. Nailah opens her eyes and looks down to see her mate's masculinity presenting itself. The primal beast within her speaks. It's no longer shouting but cooing.

“What happen[s] if you fight him? ... Not hard! Just enough to see what he [will] do! OH!!! Maybe he [will] hold us down?! That [would] feel good!"

These thoughts shock her, as she's never had them before. Even when she was enjoying the pleasures of the shadowy man from her lustful dreams, she never imagined herself ever wanting to be handled so strongly. As curious as she is, she cannot bring herself to fight him. How could she ever fight the male who has claimed her, the man who pledged himself as her husband and whom she loves so deeply?!

Rather than obey the primal voice and rebel against her mate, she merely pulls away. Seeing her reluctance, Brevin feels himself beginning to panic. He nearly falters, but his strength returns just when he needs it the most. With a mixture of fear and anger, he grabs her waist, pulls her closer and slams their bodies together. His manhood slips between her legs and her breasts smoosh against his chest.

She gasps, startled by his aggression. She leans back, her hands feebly pushing against his chest, and looks down at his hands clinging tightly to her broad hips.

“You aren't going anywhere! I'm not nearly through with you, my rebellious little mate!" He growls before picking her up off the ground.

“Eee! Brevin?!" She exclaims, her digitigrade feet and tail dangling as she grabs onto his shoulders, hanging over them like a sack of potatoes. “What [are] you doing?!"

“Ooh! This [is] good, too!" Her primal voice swoons.

“Now, get back into bed!" He growls, heaving her onto the bed. “I need to remind you who your mate is..."

“B-Brevin! Oof!" She lets out a puff of air as she lands on the mattress stuff with down feathers.

Climbing into bed with her, he makes his way closer. Nailah sits up and scoots away from him, whimpering as she stares at his masculine organ. It's already fully erect. He looks quite pleased with himself as he grabs her ankles and yanks her closer, pulling her onto her back and lifting her feet in the air. She gasps and whines as she wiggles her hips and gently pulls at her legs, but Brevin is in complete control.

Moving his hands from her ankles and placing them behind her knees, he spreads her legs and curls her body into a subtle crescent, presenting her loins to his manhood. Her tail wriggles but it's trapped between his kneecaps and shins, the former being pressed against her buttocks. He doesn't allow her to escape or even move, and with only her upper back, shoulders and head still on the bed, she uses her arms to brace herself.

Brevin moves fast. He forces his member inside of her with such confidence, such determination! It's heavenly! He grins and Nailah blushes as her slick, feminine juices all but ooze out of her. Clearly, she's enjoying his dominance more than she's letting on; her womanhood hasn't been this ready for sex since the night he whisked her away from the temple! She squeals loudly as he penetrates her, and he responds by grabbing her gaping maw and forcing her jaw closed.

He clings to her snout as he begins his work, and Nailah is left whimpering and puffing air from her nostrils and between his fingers as he uses her for his pleasure. She looks up at him with fearful eyes, moaning into her closed mouth. He thrusts into and out of her at his leisure, enjoying her flesh as a mate is entitled. What a brute! Why does it feel so right?!

She closes her eyes and arches her back as she writhes in ecstasy, her claws raking the thick sheets and heavy bedding. It's a carnal moment as powerful and passionate as those many rendezvous in her bed chamber at the temple, and even more pleasurable. If her orgasmic tremors and feeble squeals weren't proof of that, the showering of his manhood certainly is. Her reward for being a good mate is even better; Brevin ensures that not a drop of his seed was spilled.

“Oh, my! This [is] much better! Forget what I said! Brevin [is a] very good mate!" Her primal voice gleefully exclaims.

Brevin maintains his control over her, enduring her climaxes before releasing his seed with reckless abandon. Only when he feels the exhaustion overwhelming him does he finally release her snout and lie atop her. She clings to him, panting and whimpering, her hands pulling at his shoulder blades and her legs keeping him inside of her as she wishes for impregnation. What a good mate she has!

When the lust finally settles, she falls limp and her mate pulls himself from her loins only to roll her onto her side and hold her from behind. She has no choice in the matter, and that only makes her enjoy it more. They fall asleep and Nailah's nightmares do not return. When she awakens that following morning, she finds her mate already awake and watching her.

“Good morning."

“Good morning, husband." She gives him a shy smile, the blanket pulled up to her chin.

“I hope you learned something, last night." He says, his voice still stern and commanding.

“Yes..." She speaks softly, slowly nodding her head.

“Oh, we learn[ed] very much! What [a] good lesson!" Her primal voice chirps.

“Good. Now, then... These dreams of yours..." He begins, methodically pulling the covers away from her body, admiring her exquisite form. “Tell me about them."

“I [am] young. [A] s-small girl... Nnhh. I-I [am] carried to [a] place by [a] strange woman wh-who [is] killed in [the] battle. Hhff! I see many person[s] fighting. Many die. F-fire! NNHH! I [am] scared of [the] battle." She explains, softly panting and whimpering as she watches her mate playing with her body, teasing her. “I-I [do] n-not know, hhff, wh-what it mean!"

“That's the short version..." He says, suddenly pulling his hand away. “Tell me everything. Tell me, and I'll reward you."

Seeing the desire in her mate's eyes, Nailah grins. She obeys without question or hesitation. With a nod of her head and a nervous gulp, she shares the entirety of the dream that awoke her the night before. Brevin sits beside her and listens. He appears to be simultaneously enthralled and disinterested, nodding his head whilst she explains her dreams in graphic detail.

To her surprise and delight, when she finally finishes regaling him, he'd committed the entire dream to memory; he recites a synopsis to her, confirming any muddled details. When he's satisfied that he knows everything that troubles her, he rests his chin in a palm and hums quietly, deep in thought.

“What? What [is] wrong?!" Nailah scoots closer to him, eager for her reward.

“That dream doesn't sound like a dream at all. Dreams change, details are rearranged... No, that sounds like memories... Perhaps willfully ignored and forgotten memories, buried deep in a young mind." He replies.

“Wha-?! No." She closes her eyes and shakes her head.

“I have a memory of my own... When I was a small boy, a caravan came to the town. They went to see the both the men's and women's temples. They had beast folk with them. Children... Orphans... I saw many beast folk who now reside in the town. Yralissa, and a Sabaarii girl..."

“What?!" She gasps.

“I remembered Yralissa because she was the only zebra-kin. The Sabaarii had red skin, short ruby hair and big, blue eyes. I'd forgotten, but it wasn't until we met and became close that I remembered. I realized that you were the Sabaarii girl. You had reached priiznosta, the final stage of Sabaarii adulthood, and your colors changed. I almost didn't recognize you. Only when I looked into your eyes did I see who you were."

“No." Nailah shakes her head.

“Perhaps these dreams are actually recollections of your original home?" He suggests.

“No! I was [an] orphan but my mother die[d] when I was born! Master could not care for me, and [so] she gave me to [the] temple! Gianna told me this!" Nailah proclaims.

“Are you certain?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Certain?" She cocks her head.

“Certain that she wasn't lying to you." He calmly elaborates.

“..."

“I'm only suggesting that we could investigate this stone city from your dreams. Perhaps there's also a meaning behind this word, “Hakala'kata"? I know Ancient Hitrosii and that word has no meaning. Perhaps it's a place? Maybe it's where you're from?" He suggests, hoping to intrigue her with the possibilities.

“Mmrrmm!" She whimpers with uncertainty, pulling in her legs, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin atop her knees. “I [do] not know..."

“What's the harm in seeking the truth?" He asks, walking his fingers up her leg and toward her cheek. “If it makes you better and takes away these dreams, then I think it's worth it." He says, lovingly caressing her.

“Mmrrmm..."

“Nailah..." He pulls his hand away again and lets out a heavy sigh. “I'm tired of waking up to your frightened cries. I will learn the truth, and you will be by my side, as my wife and the mother of my children." He says, unleashing his masculine dominance.

“As you wish, husband." She immediately agrees.

“Good! Now, for your reward..." He flashes a sinister grin.

“Ooh." She coos, lying back as he looms over her.

They share another moment of carnal passion, and Brevin gives her what she desires. Just as they're about to begin, he grabs her hips and rolls her over, lifting her buttocks while her head rests atop the pillows. She wonders why she enjoys this so much, facing away from him and feeling his belly and chest against the underside of her tail, but as she endures the pleasures and feels his seed flowing within her, she forgets why she was even questioning it.

After finishing and taking a moment to rest, they clean themselves, dress, and pack their things. Brevin makes an account of their currency as the Sabaarii chooses a dress to wear. He's been earning extra income with odd jobs, as well as drawing sketches, painting landscapes and repairing mosaics for wealthy individuals. It's only made it that much easier to travel far away from Nailah's temple.

To their shock, The Order never placed a bounty on Nailah, demanding her return as they have with other escapees. Wanted posters bear many faces, but not hers. Still, they've always maintained a low profile, and Nailah has never spoken in front of another human, to keep up the ruse of her being just an ordinary slave. Like a dutiful slave would, she follows her master downstairs where he orders breakfast from the innkeeper.

“A fine order, sir!" The innkeeper passes a note through a little window, handing it to the cook. “So, do you plan to make your way out of this accursed little town, or will you need to rest throughout the day?"

“No, we're probably-... What did you mean by that?" Brevin suddenly changes his tone, glaring at the innkeeper.

“Oh, nothing! It's just that someone kept me and my guests up last night, and this morning I heard a woman shrieking to beat the roosters. I assume it was her, since there are no other women staying here, at the moment." The innkeeper smirks.

“..."

“That is, with a slave that fine, I doubt any master could resist. Who among us hasn't wanted a little pleasure from the lesser races?"

“... Mind your business..." Brevin growls.

“My apologizes." The innkeeper remarks, raising his hands.

His cook whistles for him, and the innkeeper quickly passes two plates of steak and eggs to the couple. As they collect their utensils, he pours the couple two mugs of ale, which they hadn't ordered.

“On the house, for my rudeness."

“Thank you! ... This isn't wassail, is it?"

“After the racket you two made, would I question your manhood like that?!" The innkeeper laughs.

“I would hope not!" Brevin chuckles, taking a sip of his drink. “Ahh! ... Might I trouble you with a question?" He asks, leaning over the counter.

“Certainly, sir! What can I help you with?"

“Have you heard of “Hakala'kata" before?"

“Hmm..."

“It could be a region or perhaps a town."

“If it's a town you're looking for, you'll want to peruse our maps. We don't have much in this dreadful place, but we do have the finest collection in our library. A few knowledgeable sorts, too! They might know where that place is. But, uh... You'll have to forgive Derhei... He hasn't been right since the fever."

The innkeeper provides them with simple directions, earning a generous tip for his trouble. After hastily finishing their food and drinks, the pair collect their bags and take their leave. Brevin leads her through the strange town, a leather leash attached to her collar. She'd much prefer to tuck herself beneath his arm, or even something as simple as holding his hand, just to ease her discomfort, but he warned against it.

Though many might find pleasure in the beast folk, carnal or otherwise, to give one's heart to any of the lesser races would, in the eyes of many a human, be akin to falling in love with the family dog or the mule that pulls the farmer's wagon. It was clear from the innkeeper's remarks that he has no idea how deeply Brevin feels for the Sabaarii. If he had, who knows how he might've reacted.

Making their way through town, Nailah looks between the slightly crooked wooden buildings covered in overgrowth and vines. Even the rare stone structures seem bent at odd angles, as if a strong wind had pushed them over. Many of the inhabitants walk in a strange shamble, and those with more vigor look amongst the others as if any one of them could be a threat. Everyone is on edge or in a trance, and only the innkeeper seemed truly in control of his faculties, and at peace with himself.

For once, Nailah is grateful to be spending only two nights in the same place. Perhaps the next town will be more inviting? As they walk, she inches her way closer. With her head turned, she bumps into Brevin's side. She was too busy watching an old woman with a hunched back, who stares at her with one eye perpetually bulged and the other narrowed. With a gasp, she tumbles into his arms. Brevin has never failed to catch her, no matter how she stumbles.

“Are you alright?" He quietly asks, his arms wrapping around her.

“I [do] not like this place." She whispers, her snout hidden between the hem of his long coat.

“It's okay. Come on." He whispers, ignoring the stares of the sparse townsfolk.

To Nailah's delight, Brevin walks with his arm around her, ignoring the strangers who judge their connection. As if to placate them, he holds up the end of her leash with his other hand, using it to point the way. It isn't hard to find the public library, though it was a considerable walk. To their surprise, it's a rather large building. The wooden, two-story manor looks decidedly out of place, and yet it's disrepair and the creeping vines blend perfectly with the odd town.

As they climb the old, cobblestone steps, they find a wooden plaque near a decorative front gate. Nailah turns to Brevin, her eyes silently questioning its purpose.

“It tells the history of this place..." He quietly explains, as her sapphire eyes scan the ornately painted script that she can never comprehend. “It once belonged to the Krisvo family. I've never heard of them, but the must've been important around these parts. It seems one of their descendants donated this home to serve as a library and archive. Come on..."

They walk up the steps and stand on a rickety old porch. The wood is softer in certain places. It's clear that the old mansion has seen better days, the paint chipping and some of the wood rotting. Unfortunately for them, Brevin is no carpenter. Always a gentleman, Brevin grabs the tarnished brass door handle.

“Remember, my sweetroll, you cannot understand the human tongue." He says, preparing to open the door for her.

She nods and pantomimes locking her lips with a key only to hide it between her breasts. She goes so far as to tuck the pretend key under a specific breast, groping it as if to tease him. He softly chuckles and kisses her cheek when no one is looking, then opens the door and shows her inside.

“Hello. Could I trouble you for a moment?" Brevin asks the first scribe he sees.

“... Hmm? ... Oh, heLLo. i'M DerHEI..." The young man replies in a strangely disjointed timbre.

“... And I'm Brevin... Could you perhaps help me with something?"

“SomethIng... yEs..." The scribe says whilst slowly caressing his own cheek, his head tilted and eyes staring blankly at a corner of the ceiling. “I caN hELp..."

“... ... Are you well?"

“... Well? No, i'M DerHEI... anD yOu are BRevIN, yEs?"

“..." Brevin blinks, unsettled by the strange young scribe.

“How caN i Be oF ssssERvice?"

“... Uhh..." Brevin hesitates.

He politely questions Derhei about the town, but the young man has no idea what “Hakala'kata" is or where a stone city in a desert could be. It takes him over a minute just to begin finishing his sentence.

“And thE deSerT is a Very b-Big plACE. I THinK it wOUld taKe you tWO wHOle lifetImes tO searCH iT..."

“Uh-huh..." Brevin takes a step back from the odd young scribe.

“I Don'T REcaLL eVER heaRIng of Such a plACE..." Derhei continues.

Thankfully, an elderly scribe with a white beard that reaches to the middle of his chest overhears their conversation. He slowly approaches, taking feeble steps with the aid of a crooked cane which is shortened to accommodate his hunched back.

“And iF i hAve eVER HearD of iT beFoRe, thEn I caNNNNot bE ssss-"

“Derhei, shut up and find your book." The old man casually instructs with a deep and gravelly voice.

“mY bOOk... YesSSs..." The young man murmurs, shuffling off into another room.

“Forgive him. He's a little... ... Anyway! That word... Hakala'kata... It sounds familiar. Is it a place?" The old man asks.

“I don't know. I'm researching my slave's past and I'm told there was once a city in the desert. She's said that word before; I know Ancient Hitrosii as well as the next man, and that word has no meaning." He explains.

“You're right, it doesn't... Hmm... A city... A city in the... Des... Ert..."

The old man's milky eyes suddenly light up.

“Wait here! I'll be right back!"

The old man quickly hobbles away, aided by his cane. The younger scribe returns with a book in his hands. He motions to a wooden bench.

“If yOu wanT... I cOUld rEad To YoU..."

“Erm..." Brevin and Nailah both wince.

The couple reluctantly sit on the bench while Derhei begins to read painfully slowly from the book. It's a cookbook. It soon becomes apparent that he's too focused on the words to pay any attention to his audience. The couple soon turn to each other, ignoring the young scribe. At first, she merely leans against him, her head on his shoulder as she occasionally nuzzles him. They don't fear Derhei.

As the boredome sets in, they soon entertain each other. Nailah takes one of Brevin's hands, caressing it. She's soon playing with it, pressing her fingers and palm against his only to wiggle her fingers between his, pull them back, twist her wrist and do it again but between different fingers. It's a cute little dance as her fingers move about his.

Her little smile and the way she nuzzles him as she plays with him reveals the breadth of their relationship to anyone who spends more than a second looking at them. This, however, goes unnoticed, even when the old scribe returns, nearly an hour later.

“I'm terribly sorry!" The old scribe begins. “I was looking for a scroll but then I forgot what I was looking for and had to remember. Heh!"

“And thEn aDD A daSH of bLAck pepPER aND siMMer foR one hoUR..." Derhei continues to read in the background.

“That's alright. Derhei kept us busy." Brevin facetiously replies.

“Oh, good!" The old scribe seems to take him at his word.

“... So?"

“... ..." The old man stands in silence.

“Uh..."

“Hmm?" The old man leans closer and cups a hand over an ear.

“The scroll..." Brevin looks toward the roll of parchment in the old man's boney hand while Nailah subdues a giggle.

“What scroll? ... Oh!" The old man lifts the scroll. “Right! This scroll! Heh... Old age... Ahem... Come! I have something to show you!"

The old scribe slowly leads the pair to a large table where he unrolls the scroll, revealing an ancient map. It's been updated many times and there are faded outlines of kingdoms that no longer exist; they've been absorbed generations ago, in the War of Unification. The Kingdom of the Ilium Rose expanded its territory tremendously during that time, but it also tamed much of the wilderness surrounding it.

Even for those whose lives were forever changed by the war, it's still remembered as a remarkable achievement for all mankind. Many savage tribes were driven off and the others enslaved. In truth, beast folk of every race have prospered and multiplied many times over since their subjugation. There are more now than there ever were, and many common slaves live with more security and in better health than their untamed ancestors.

This is the greatest struggle for the rebellious tribals; convincing their kin to abandon lives of structure and support for a daily struggle in freedom is an all but impossible task. However, progress comes at a cost. For many, that cost is their heritage. Only the knowledgeable few, or the archives of the oldest cities and towns still remember those long-forgotten days. Men like the aged scribe are rare.

“That word, “Hakala'kata." I've heard it before, many years ago. Three score and five, in fact! I was just a young whipper snapper of twenty back then." The old man begins, revealing his age. “There were soldiers who'd heard that term. This building was still being renovated, after we were given it by the once prestigious Krisvo family. A man came in here to find an Ancient Hitrosii dictionary. He wanted the real thing, mind you, not one of ours.

I had to tell him that there are no books by the Hitrosii outside of their hideaways, assuming the even use books. I've heard they can fire lightning from their hands! Can you believe that?! Surely, a race with such magic wouldn't need to write things down with ink and parchment!" The old scribe goes off on a tangent.

“So, he was looking for Hakala'kata?" Brevin asks, trying to redirect the senile scribe.

“Right! I offered up one of our books. He looked for that word but couldn't find it. He told me that it was shouted by beast folk warriors... Sabaarii, in particular, now that I recall! What a coincidence!" He continues, glancing at Nailah.

“And is this connected? What's the purpose of this old map?"

“What map? ... Oh, right! Heh... The older I become the foggier my head is! Haha! Well, the soldier couldn't find the word, but months later he returned from a campaign. There were rumors from far away about a city of stone, an ancient city built by the beast folk, if you can believe that! Not huts made of sticks, mud bricks and animal hide, or repurposed caves, mind you. They said it was a city of real carved stones!"

Nailah's eyes begin to widen. She's forced to look away, for fear of revealing that she can understand them.

“The blocks were said to be massive, some as big as whole wagons! It was thought to be only a rumor, but when the War of Unification ended with a peace treaty, the soldiers resumed their other duties..." The old man explains, his aged eyes scouring the map.

“And then the soldier returned?" Brevin

“Hmm? What soldier? ... Oh, right! Er... Did he return?" The old man pauses to stroke his long, white beard. “No? Yes? No... Yes! Yes, he did! As I was saying... Uhm... What was I saying? ... ... Oh, right! So, the soldier returned and explained that he discovered the origin of the word. It was not a command or a long-forgotten word with some hidden meaning but was the name of that very city! Another battalion had found and destroyed it. What a pity..."

“That was... A very long time ago." Brevin remarks, his brow furled in confusion.

“Yes, but I'd heard that place mentioned again! Perhaps some fifteen or twenty years ago, another battalion arrived. They traveled there for... Hmm... What did that soldier say? ... ... I don't remember anymore. Something about wild Sabaarii returning to the ruins."

Nailah's heart sinks. Could Brevin be right?! Are her nightmares not nightmares at all, but memories?! Is she remembering the soldiers kidnapping her and destroying her peaceful village?! It takes all the strength she has to maintain her calm composure, her jaw flexing as she clenches her teeth in a growing anger.

“Anyway, don't interrupt. I'm already struggling to recall this first story!"

“Sorry."

“... Drat! Where was I?" The old scribe asks the pair.

“The soldier returned, and-"

“Ah, yes! So, the soldier returned and explained the origin of Hakala'kata... He told me how he'd heard the story of the first attack from a soldier who was there, one of the few to survive uninjured. The soldier I spoke with then showed me where it was on this very map! I feared I might forget, so I marked the location with chalk..."

Nailah's mind reels from the many possibilities. She stares wide-eyed at the map, her mind racing and searching for any piece of new information that might help her return home. Meanwhile, the old scribe also scours the map, a boney finger running over the faded ink as he searches for the location of the ancient city.

“It was said to be built around a beautiful oasis, with a large aquifer of fresh drinking water. A perfect place to settle. Quiet, secluded. Tucked away in the land of mesas... I suppose I thought one day I would find the courage to travel there, but... Well, we know how that went, don't we? Haha! ... Huh... In all those years, I think the chalk has faded away!"

“What color was it."

“White. No! Black... Black? ... Yes? No! ... Yes... Yes, black!" The old man goes back and forth in his degraded memories.

Nailah stands as still as a statue while her superior eyes scour the map. She spots a very faint, white circle and gently nudges Brevin. He turns to her and she motions with her head and her eyes. He follows her gaze, leans closer and begins to make out the faint, almost invisible chalk marking. After nearly sixty-five-years, there's still something there! He rubs a finger over it, smearing white on the tip of his finger.

“I think this is it." He says, looking to the old man and presenting his fingertip.

“Oh, it was white!" The old scribe exclaims.

They examine the area where the marking was, and the old man retrieves a tiny inkwell and quill from a satchel he wears around his humble, dark gray robes. Moving very carefully and methodically, he draws a new circle around the faded chalk marks. Nailah can hardly contain her excitement as they look upon the old map. She turns to Brevin and pulls at his arm, desperate to leave so that she can speak but pauses when she sees the look on his face. He appears quite concerned!

“That's the region of Vokeem. That... Is very far away." Brevin remarks.

“Yes, it is. A vast and arid land, full of rocky deserts, jagged cliffs and mesas as far as the eye can see! It would take you many months, and who knows if you would ever find water out there... Now that I recall, I never traveled there myself because I was so fearful of drying out like an old sponge! It would seem fate has a sense of irony; at 85, I look as bad as I'd feared in my youth. Haha!"

Brevin reaches for his coin purse and begins rummaging through it.

“Might I buy this map from you?"

“This old thing?! Heh... It's only taking up space in the barrel with the other outdated maps. You know, my colleagues and I were joking about burning them in the fireplace this winter! Or were we joking about it last winter? ... The winter before last? ... Hmm... Wait... When did Arkvius die?!" The old scribe's mind wanders.

“Is that a 'yes?'"

“Is wha-? ... Oh! Keep it." The old scribe slides the map toward him.

“Are you sure?" Brevin presses him.

“I think it'll be far more useful to you. It'll simply sit here for another sixty-five years, gathering dust. By the time it sees daylight again, no one will remember why it was preserved at all. That's the sad truth of time, young man; everyone forgets." The old scribe laments, turning his head and looking directly at Nailah.

Is he speaking to her or did he mean that for her mate?! She hears the parchment roll and feels a hand taking hold of hers. She turns to Brevin, who motions with his head.

“Sa'diit." He speaks in Ancient Hitrosii, maintaining her cover. “Thank you, sir! You've been very helpful!"

“You're welcome." The old scribe waves with a shaky hand. “Helpful with what? Hmm..." He suddenly asks himself.

Nailah and Brevin leave the room, passing Derhei as he continues to read the cookbook in his painfully slow and disjointed speech, unaware that they've ever left. Once they step outside, Brevin quickly releases her hand, to her silent displeasure. She follows him outside and they walk a short distance, slipping into a vacant alley before Brevin opens the map and sets it atop a nearby barrel.

“What [do] you think, husband?" Nailah whispers, leaning against his side, eager to feel his warmth. “[Is] it too far [away]?"

“Don't be silly..." He replies, carefully folding the old map.

He grins as he slips the little square of parchment into a pouch on his belt, where he keeps other essential items. He turns to her, takes hold of both of her hands and takes a kiss. Nailah's cheeks flush as she looks into his eyes, his thumbs tenderly caressing the backs of her hands. She knows how this will look to his kin, and the fact that he's willing to risk it for their love is beyond heartwarming.

“I said we're going to discover the truth about your past. I keep my promises."

“Brevin!" She coos, overcome with joy.

“Does that mean you'd like to come along?" He teases.

“This [is] truly your mate! Take him, now! Give him your body, right here, in [the] middle of [the] street! Allow [the] others to see to whom you belong!" Her primal voice urges.

Nailah's cheeks flush as she envisions doing just that. She grabs her dress, one of the many given to her by Bascilia, but before she can expose her ample breasts to her mate, he pulls her into a warm embrace.

“This'll be an adventure. What do you say?" He asks, a hand petting the back of her head very softly.

“Yes, Brevin. I [am] your wife. Where you go, I go." She coos, nuzzling his cheek.

“Good. Let's take you home." He replies, giving her a tender kiss. “But first, we need to buy a few things."

“Things?" She asks, cocking her head.

Taking hold of her leash, he leads her as any master would, walking confidently through town. He never says where they're going, and he doesn't need to. She soon sees a sign above the door of a shop, a sign bearing a shield with a sword and pistol crossed in front of it. A man sits behind a counter, a ledger and lock box in front of him. He stares at the wall, waiting for the time to pass. Suddenly, the front door swings open, knocking a bell that hangs above the door.

“Hello, sir! How may I assist you and-..."

The shopkeeper jumps up from his seat to greet his potential customers but pauses as he glimpses the beautiful and voluptuous Sabaarii who follows the human inside. Unlike many who gaze upon her elegant form with silent desire, the man behind the counter narrows his eyes with suspicion.

“I'm afraid she'll have to wait outside."

“Huh?!" Brevin asks with a raised brow.

“Personal policy... No pets in the store."

“She's not a pet."

“Whatever. No slaves in the store, especially Sabaarii." The merchant reiterates. “I don't trust any Sabaarii..." The weapon merchant grumbles.

“But I have things I need to buy, and I won't be long. Please, she's a fine slave and very loyal, and-"

“A loyal Sabaarii?! Fhah!" The merchant scoffs.

“We're about to travel a considerable distance, and we need some things. It'll only take a moment." Brevin assures him, pulling up his coin purse and jingling it for him.

The coin purse isn't small, and it looks quite heavy. Like any true merchant, his eyes are drawn to it like a magnet. The soft jingling is music to his ears.

“Well... I suppose I can make an exception... But be quick!"

Brevin and an extremely uncomfortable Nailah approach the counter to deal with the man. As her husband peruses the merchant's selection of weapons, she cannot help but notice how he stares at her. There's a fire in his eyes. She's never experienced this before, and her primal instincts put her on the defensive. She takes a step back and behind her mate, putting Brevin between them. Brevin lifts his head and looks back at her, then at the merchant.

“I think you're making her uncomfortable, sir." He calmly and politely remarks.

“Me?! Fhah..."

“Is there a problem?"

He doesn't ask with aggression, nor does he challenge the weapon merchant; he merely wants to know.

“Not yet, and if you're quick, there needn't to be one."

“She's not a threat to you."

“She's a Sabaarii..." The merchant speaks in a dry and rather annoyed tone.

“She's good. Believe me."

“Sir..." The merchant lets out a frustrated sigh. “I'm not going to debate with you... Just know that when a boy sees his father buried missing a sizeable chunk of his neck, all because he fought with those untamed savages, it leaves a lasting impression."

“I'm sorry."

“Forget it... Let's just finish this, before I come to my senses." The merchant grumbles.

Moving past the awkward situation, Brevin browses the glass display cases. They're lined with firearms of all shapes, sizes and designs.

“What do you even need these for, anyway? Home defense?" The merchant suddenly asks.

“We're going on something of an expedition. We'll be passing through Kolia on our way to Vokeem. Might I see that one?" Brevin points to a firearm on the middle shelf.

“If this an expedition into the wilderness, wouldn't you rather browse my selection of rifles? After all, the mighty quill-bear, the fearsome shadow walkers and those towering beasts, the Toulpa, won't be stopped by handheld weapons; even the Drakozhai, the pack-hunting desert raptors, would laugh at the sight of these pistols, and you'll find all of them aplenty out in the wild! A good fifty-caliber rifle would be just the thing to protect you and your servant, and they have new models with doors at the breech for swift reloading!" The merchant cannot help but show off his knowledge.

“We just need something compact but powerful enough, for personal protection. We'll be in wagon trains most of the time, anyway." Brevin retorts.

“As you wish." The merchant shrugs his shoulders.

The weapon merchant opens the case and retrieves a strange looking weapon with multiple tubes forming overlapping circles.

“This is a popular option. Some call it a “pepper grinder" but the term I hear most often is “pepperbox." Eleven barrels gives you plenty of firepower, far more than the old single and double-shot weapons our fathers used to carry, and the longer barrels increase damage and accuracy! There are other models, some with more and some with less barrels, depending on what you require. Oh! And there's also this..."

The merchant pauses to retrieve an even more unusual looking weapon.

“I call this one a “block pistol." Look at this! This rectangular block is a reusable powder and shot magazine! It feeds through this slot here, and when it's empty, pops out the other side..." He continues, showing Brevin how to operate the pistol. “See?! Simple and easy! I can sell you multiple magazines, too! ... I suppose the better option depends on how much trouble you expect to get into." The merchant remarks, looking over both firearms.

“Oh, we don't expect any trouble." Brevin chuckles.

“No one expects trouble, sir..." The merchant's expression is as dry as his tone. “It still comes for us from time to time. It's a wise man who prepares for it."

“Good point." Brevin murmurs. “How should I choose?"

“The best advice I can give is to weigh the ease of use and practicality with your level of skill. Once that decision is made, choose whichever one fits your hand."

“That simple?"

The merchant smirks and nods.

“Aye. Can't get much simpler than that, sir!"

As Brevin makes his decision, Nailah begins to explore the shop. On the opposite side are racks and displays filled with all manner of melee weapons. Utility and hunting knives, daggers, cudgels and clubs, brass knuckles, spears, pikes and swords upon swords. The shopkeeper glances over to her, staring with suspicion.

“Ahem..."

Brevin clears his throat, drawing Nailah's attention to him. The shopkeeper turns to see his customer staring daggers at him.

“Can't ever be too careful..." The merchant murmurs, glancing at Nailah.

“They both fit my hand, but this one fits my hand very well..."

Brevin prepares to make his purchase, pulling many valuable zakians from his coin purse and revealing a few sen'kamen among them. The weapon merchant's eyes light up at the sight of the prized elven gems. As he counts the payment, Brevin suddenly pauses.

“Perhaps I should buy them both." He remarks, glancing at Nailah.

“... For her?!" The merchant gasps in horror.

“I have two hands." Brevin grumbles.

“I suppose you do..."

The tension is so thick you can cut it with a knife, but this doesn't stop the merchant's greed from getting the better of him. By the time they're finished, Brevin has purchased two pistols, ample powder and shot, spare magazines, a bullet mold and even a Zanzivarian saber. Even today, the carrying of a blade is a common practice, and the saber is a fine weapon.

The one-handed saber has a rather long and slender blade for a short sword. Its single edge is razor-sharp and quite straight, except for a gentle forward and then rearward curve that gives the blade a subtle S-shaped profile. The point is like a fine needle. The silver blade gleams in the light, and the red wooden grip panels and polished brass hilt and accents are easy on the eyes.

He initially chose it because the lovely colors caught his wife's eyes, and status symbols are important. With that, the couple depart the shop.

“I'm sorry about that..." Brevin whispers to his beloved Sabaarii. “Not all humans will be friendly."

“I understand." She quietly replies.

“I hope you do. Truly. This is why we mustn't reveal our relationship to the world, at least not here. Even the nice humans won't like us being together." He continues, leading her through a quiet alley.

“But [the] others mate with Vostii, Korutan and Sabaarii. How [is] that different?" She wonders, speaking more freely in the seclusion of the alley.

“It just is. Sex is one thing; many humans have sex with beast folk, but even those who do would likely deny it to friends and family. To fall in love with a beautiful priestess like you..." Brevin looks to her and smiles. “Well, that's something else entire-"

“Alright!"

A stranger's voice catches them off-guard. They stop in their tracks and turn back to find three men standing a few feet behind them! Two are carrying swords and one wields a cheap, single-shot pistol. How did she not notice them?! A quick whiff of the air reveals their scents. She was so focused on her mate that she simply ignored them, and her primal mind berates her for it.

The trio of miscreants looks the pair over, visibly surprised. The man in the middle, who wields the pistol, looks between their prospective victims.

“Now I know I 'eard 'er talkin'!" One thug speaks with a strange accent.

“My, my! Looks like we got one of them Companions! ... Or did ya' swipe 'er from The Order?" The pistol-wielding thug smirks.

Brevin shifts his body, taking a bladed stance.

“Ah-ah! I wouldn't do that if I were you..." The leader warns, cocking the hammer of his little pistol. “You look smart 'nough to know what this is, don't 'e, boys?"

“Yeah, 'e sure does!" One thug agrees.

“A real genius, boss!" The other facetiously chirps.

“Now, 'and over yer coin purse and we'll be on our way..."

“Look at the big tits on that Sabaarii..." A thug suddenly remarks. “I'd love to raid her purse."

The crooks all chuckle and the leader suddenly adjusts his manhood.

“Aye... A sweet, pampered Companion might not put up much of a fight. Maybe we could get a look at 'er jewels, eh?" He smirks, taking two steps closer.

Nailah looks between her mate and the thugs, a fear unlike anything she's ever experienced welling up inside of her. The leader turns and points his pistol toward the Sabaarii.

“Once yer master 'ands over the goods, my boys will keep an eye on 'im..."

Nailah's fear begins to transform, consumed by the fires of anger. Her lips twitch, slowly peeling back as she silently snarls at the ne'er-do-wells.

“If you want 'im to live, then be a good girl... I want ya' to bend over that barrel, move that tail aside and take my co-"

Before he can even finish his sentence, Brevin strikes! He draws his saber and swings it with a loud swish! It's a clumsy and tactless move; it's obvious even to Nailah that he's never used a sword before. Still, one's lack of skill matters little with a blade, and the thug leader watches as his hand falls to the ground, still clutching his pistol. Seeing the stump squirting blood, he stumbles backward and falls onto his butt, choking out feeble protests.

Following her husband's lead, Nailah leaps into action, literally. She jumps several feet through the air, grabbing the remaining two thugs by their throats before they can even scream! As they fall to the ground, her weight shifts and she simultaneously crushes the larynx and snaps the spine of the man to her left. With him out of commission, she turns toward the other.

“They wanted to rape you! They [are] not worthy of life! Pluck out his eyes!" Her primal voice gleefully commands.

Nailah obeys and jams her razor-sharp claws into the stunned thug's eye sockets, covering his mouth just as he begins screaming in agony. Brevin stands like a statue, in as much shock as the thug leader, who sits quietly on the ground, clutching his bloody stump as he quickly succumbs to shock. With his eyeballs now little more than shredded lumps of flesh, Nailah straddles the flailing man who screams so pathetically into her palm.

“He [is] very loud. Silence him! Bite his throat!"

Nailah obliges the primal beast. With her hand over his mouth and a thumb beneath his chin, she cocks her head to the side and pushes his head back. With one bite, she severs multiple arteries and he begins to drown in his own blood. The man tremors as if enduring a seizure before falling limp. Nailah shakes her head from side-to-side like a vicious mongrel, tearing chunks of flesh. The sound of ripping skin makes Brevin wince and look away.

“Nailah... Nailah." He tries to get her attention.

“Rrrrr!!!"

“Come on. We need to leave."

Hearing footsteps behind her, the Sabaarii female, once a harmless priestess for The Order of The One, spits out a large chunk of the now deceased thug's throat as she looks back at a potential threat. Instead, she finds Brevin claiming the cheap little pistol from a severed hand, tossing the appendage aside with disgust before stowing the firearm in the satchel he carries.

Rising to her digitigrade feet, the lizard-like humanoid approaches her husband, blood running down her chin and tainting her white flesh. She reaches out for him, resting her hands on his upper arms as she leans in to nuzzle his face.

“[Are] you hurt?" She asks in the sweetest voice.

“No... Clean off the blood. We have to go."

Brevin's tone confuses her. Is he not pleased with her for helping protect them?! After all, she's his female, and though it's his duty to protect her and provide for her, that doesn't mean she can't help! If she's going to birth his young, they'll both need to contribute.

“Brevin? [Did] I not do good?" She asks with a little whimper.

Brevin tosses her a rag torn from the thug leader, who's since succumbed to blood loss. She turns to catch the rag and gets a glimpse of herself in and old, filmy window of an abandoned building. The gory sight causes her to gasp. She quickly cleans her face, neck and breasts, wiping up the blood that's begun to trickle into her cleavage. She even cleans the leash, wiping the rag along the length of the leather strap.

After cleaning up, she carelessly tosses the rag aside. Brevin glances back and the Sabaarii follows his gaze. She sees the bloody rag lying over a dead thug's crushed neck and partially covering his face. It strikes her that she feels absolutely nothing about what she's just done; she isn't happy or sad or even repulsed. They were threats and she acted, and that's that. Holding up her leash, she gives Brevin a smile as she presents it to him.

“Ready?" She asks in a sweet and innocent voice.

“Yeah... Let's go." He murmurs, taking hold of the leash.

They walk for a moment but Nailah senses something's amiss. Brevin appears distraught, though he's doing a good job of keeping it to himself. The curiosity cannot be contained, and she soon questions him.

“What [is] wrong?"

“Nothing..." He mutters.

“[Are] you upset? Was I bad?!" She begins to worry.

“No, I just-!" He pauses and sighs. “I never wanted to see that side... I didn't want this to happen." He remarks.

That side of what? Nailah cannot make heads or tails of his response. She presses him a final time, fearful that she's upset him, the only male she's every truly desired or cared for. He insists that he's not mad and proves it by giving her an embrace and a kiss. This satisfies her, and with their bags in-hand and the thugs lying dead in the alley behind them, they hastily make their way across town.

Upon arriving at the travel agency, Brevin discovers that he still has enough money to afford the next part of their journey; no agency will take them directly to their destination. It's simply too far. They'll need to find other companies willing to take them or attain transportation for themselves. However they do it, Brevin will need to work odd jobs to sustain them.

It'll be a long and arduous journey, but as he sits beside the Sabaarii, who looks to him with warmth and adoration, he's certain it'll be worth it. She leans against him and he takes her into his arms. She turns her sapphire orbs up to meet his gaze, and they share a loving kiss. The driver flicks the reins and the carriage begins to move, and as they lovers cuddle, safe and with a modicum of privacy, Brevin holds her close. She feels him tremble.

“Brevin? What [is] wrong?"

“Nothing..." He replies, doing his best to mask the stress of the past hour. “I'm just happy to be out of there."

“Oh. I [am] happy, too!" She chirps, the tip of her raptor-like tail flicking.

She gives his torso a squeeze, nuzzling him so affectionately. Brevin watches the scenery going by, but he cannot help but wonder. What will find out there? What will they uncover in the search for Nailah's past? How much more strife will they endure? Will it all be worth it in the end? Will his trust in the beast woman prove sound, or will his hopes for the future die like those thugs whom she so brutally killed?

“Brevin." Nailah's soft voice cuts through the ambiance.

“Yes, my sweetroll?"

“I love you."

“... I love you more." He softly replies, giving her a squeeze.