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Chapter Nine – Ocean of Storms

And the river got frozen.

And the home got snowed in.

And the yellow moon glowed bright

'till the morning light.

~Fleet Foxes – Blue Ridge Mountains

Calvin set Flynn down and slammed the door behind him once they ran back to their stateroom. He didn't know where else to go. They'd escaped whatever trap Captain Mason had planned to snare them in during his farce of a dinner – just barely. But what now? They were still trapped on Sultana with no way to escape.

Calvin turned to Flynn. The same thoughts he'd had when he almost left Flynn in the tent in Chambersburg nearly two months ago flew through his mind. I've put him in so much danger, he thought, and for what? For me. For my selfishness. I don't deserve him and he doesn't deserve the hardship and danger and risk and pain I've brought into his life.

“It's me they want, Flynn! It's me! Not you! I can't swim but you can! You have to jump into the river! You have to save yourself!"

“Calvin, no! Stop!" Flynn yelled back at him. He knew this side of Calvin, the pit of doubt and anguished self-blame he could fall into, the effects of the Nostalgia. Flynn wouldn't let him.

“Stop it! What did you say right before we left this room, Calvin? Do you remember? 'Whatever happens, we have to stay together,' you said! 'You're all I have.' You said that! But did you stop to think that it's true for me, too? That you are all I have? What am I gonna do if I jump off this ship, Calvin? Where the fuck am I gonna go? I don't have a home to go back to, I don't have a family! The only person who gives a shit about me who isn't fucking dead now is you , Calvin! It's you! You're all I have, and I'm not leaving you!"

Calvin took a step toward Flynn, who was still wearing the bright blue dress Calvin had bought earlier that day. There was so much resolve and fire in those icy blue eyes, he thought, but so much pain and uncertainty in them too. So much life.

Their lips connected fervidly as Calvin wrapped his arms around Flynn. He felt Flynn's tongue in his mouth as he pressed his hands firmly into the dress Flynn was wearing and ran his fingers down deer's body, desperate to feel every inch of him. Flynn was doing the same, hands wrapped around Calvin, exploring his body with his hands as the kissed wildly.

Calvin felt Flynn quickly slide his hand around to his chest, hastily unbuttoning his suit jacket and prying it off needingly without breaking their frenzied kiss. He felt the tip of his canine cock emerging from his sheath, beginning to press against his pants. He wanted Flynn. He wanted him badly, he wanted him now, and Flynn was practically begging for him. But they were in danger. He couldn't let his passions blind him from the peril they were still in.

“Flynn… wait..." Calvin said, breaking their kiss and gently grabbing Flynn's hands.

Flynn saw Calvin divert his glance to the door. He knew why Calvin stopped him, and he knew it was the right decision. They couldn't be careless now. For all they knew Captain Mason and a dozen Union solders were walking down the hall towards their room at this very moment.

“Yeah… you're right," Flynn said, dropping his hands to his side. “We need to think."

“We need to buy some time," Calvin said. Flynn saw him quickly take the chair from the desk on the far side of the room and prop it underneath the doorknob. “That will slow them down at least, if they try to get in. They have a key."

“What will we do when they do get in?"

“I don't know. We could fight," Calvin said, feeling the weight of the revolver Flynn still didn't know he had stuck in his pants.

“No... Calvin, we can't fight them," Flynn replied, giving Calvin a look of disappointment, like a child he'd been teaching kept making the same mistake over and over again. “There's too many of them, and no matter what we're still stuck on this boat. We lose either way. It won't change anything."

Calvin knew that Flynn was right. He knew fighting was never really an option before he said it, but if he couldn't fight that only left one option. They'd have to run. And from where they were, running meant swimming.

“Okay..." he said, knowing what he had to say but dreading saying it. “Okay. We don't fight. We'll swim for it."

“Calvin, you can't..."

“I can float! You taught me how! I just have to do it. I just have to not fight the water, like you said. I just have to stop fighting."

Calvin walked to the door again, removing the chair he'd lodged underneath the doorknob only a minute prior.

“What are you doing?" Flynn asked.

“If we're going, we need to go now, before Mason figures out his next move!"

“Calvin, wait!"

Flynn was scared now, scared for the wolf he loved. Calvin had barely been able to keep it together without panicking when they were floating in the shallows of the river bank. If they jumped off the Sultana now they'd be in the middle of the Mississippi River, a quarter of a mile from shore at the minimum. What then?

Before Flynn could say anything more Calvin was opening the door. But nearly as quickly as he opened it he slammed it shut again, yelping audibly and panic written on his face as he scrambled to lock it back.

“Calvin!" Flynn pleaded again.

“There's four of them out there! There's four soldiers waiting outside the door!"

Calvin grabbed the chair he'd just moved and again wedged it so that the top of the seat was under the doorknob. But as soon as he did, he realized it would be no impediment to four men who wanted to break down the door. If they were trapped in the room, blocking the door wouldn't be enough – they had to barricade it.

He went for the desk that the chair had been at and started dragging it across the floor. It was solid oak, heavy, sturdy. Perfect.

“Come on, help me block the door. Use everything in the room," Calvin said to Flynn. Flynn nodded and went to the other side of the desk, pushing it to the door as Calvin pulled it.

After the desk blocked the door they began pulling everything in the room that wasn't nailed down. The chair, the dresser, the table along with the water pitcher and bowl, the bookcase along with all the books, even the lamps, paintings, and floor mirror Flynn had used to make sure he looked feminine were heaped in a pile in front of the door in minutes.

Finally, Calvin grabbed one of the four posts of their bed and tried to pull it. It barely budged.

“This bed has to weigh a thousand pounds!" he said, looking at the thick oak construction and noticing that the framing on the underside was solid wrought iron. His estimate may only have been a slight exaggeration.

“Good!" Flynn answered.

Slowly, arduously, with Calvin doing most of the work but Flynn helping as much as he could, they were able to move the bed itself to the door. They pushed it as hard as they could against the pile of furniture and miscellany, compressing it all tightly against the door. Finally, Flynn went to the window and tore down the curtain, twisting it into a kind of makeshift rope and looping it around the doorknob and the oaken leg of the bed, tying tight both ends.

Calvin took a step back admiring their handiwork for a moment.

“Now! Let's see them get through that before we can..." Calvin started, leaving it there for a moment.

“Jump," Flynn finished.

Flynn saw the worried expression on Calvin's face as he watched him walk to the window. Calvin looked out – nothing changed from when they looked out earlier except it was now nearly dark outside. The shore was far away and the paddlewheel churned relentlessly.

“What do you think will happen… when we do?" Calvin asked, turning to Flynn, who had followed him to the window and was now standing beside him looking out.

“We won't make it past the wheel. Well… I won't. I can't jump that far, not with my leg," Flynn said, thinking hard. “Do you think you can?"

“I don't know… maybe," Calvin answered. “If I plant my hindpaws up on the windowsill and kind of just, leap straight out… maybe. I might be able to clear it. What are you thinking?"

“If we don't make it past the wheel it'll pull us under. I'm not worried about me, I can swim up however far it shoots me down. I'm worried about you," Flynn said. “I got lucky with Jonathan. Really lucky. I don't want you to go any deeper than you have to. I don't want to have to find you..."

Calvin felt a shiver pass through him. There was so much that could go wrong, he tried to think of some alternative.

“What if you held on to me? Jump straight down, the paddles will drive us below but you can pull us both up, right?"

“I don't know," Flynn said. “I'm worried about the paddles. I think if I dive headfirst, straight down, I might be able to dive underneath the paddles, just too deep for them straight away. That is what I am thinking, anyway. I'm worried that if we jump together we won't go deep and the paddles will hit us. I don't know what that would do to us. Nothing good. The look awfully powerful. I'm just thinking if it hit my head it might knock me out cold. That could happen. If that happened we'd both drown."

Calvin leaned against the window. He hadn't thought of that. But as he looked at the immense connecting arm, a solid bar of steel relentlessly turning the paddlewheel, he knew that Flynn was right. Whatever those paddles hit was going to lose.

“So you dive down and I just jump as far as I can. That's the plan?" Calvin asked. He felt there should be more to it than that.

“Yeah, I guess so. Unless we think of a better one," Flynn said, realizing how dissuading and hollow it sounded immediately. “Before you jump just make sure you draw the biggest breath you ever have, fill up your lungs like they're going to burst. Then try to land as sprawled out as you can. Belly flop with your arms and legs spread out wide. It'll hurt but it'll prevent you from going any deeper than you have to."

Calvin nodded, trying to listen to Flynn to make sure he did everything exactly right, trying to concentrate on the specific tasks he had to do to distract him from his fear. But he couldn't help but think back to the day he met Flynn, hours before when he stood on the overlook and thought about jumping. For him, for someone who couldn't swim, jumping out that window and into the river seemed like it would kill him just as surely as jumping from that cliff would have.

Flynn was worried for Calvin too. For his part he knew he had to get under the paddlewheel and back to the surface as quickly as he could. But what if Calvin didn't float like they planned? What if he panicked? What if he couldn't find him? The thought of losing Calvin terrified him. He couldn't imagine how scared he must be.

“Talk to me, Calvin. What are you thinking, what are you feeling," Flynn said as he lowered his head low to squeeze under Calvin's arm without hitting his antler. He leaned on Calvin and put an arm around his back, the other on his chest.

“I'm afraid. I can't tell you I'm not, or pretend that I'm not. I am. I'm really scared," Calvin said, resting his head on top of Flynn's. Flynn could hear the fear in Calvin's voice.

The stump of Flynn's antler scratched at the short hair on Calvin's chin, but it felt good. Calvin rubbed his chin against it slowly several times.

“I have to do it though. I have to face my fear. It's the only way out of this room now."

Wordlessly he rubbed his head over Flynn's and felt Flynn's body with his hand. He wanted to savor this moment as long as possible. He didn't know if he'd ever get another like it.

“Well..." Calvin finally said with a sigh. “Are we ready?"

“What, now?" Flynn asked, turning up to look at Calvin.

“I guess," Calvin said, already feeling less confident after the slightest hesitation from Flynn.

“We don't have to jump now," Flynn said. “With all that junk in front of the door it'll take them forever to get in here, you know? You bought us time with that idea. We'll have plenty of warning if they try to get in. We'll hear them. And hey, we're getting closer to St. Louis every minute, right? The longer we wait the better."

“That's a good point… hmm. Yeah. We can just wait them out if it's gonna take them a long time to get in. That makes sense," Calvin said. He hadn't thought of that, either. Compared to how fast they were going on the flatboat they were absolutely flying now – the Sultana would be in St. Louis in less than two days. Flynn thinks of everything, Calvin thought. I don't know what I'd do without him.

“Maybe they won't even try it," Calvin mused, a smile returning to his face. “Mason's probably too embarrassed to try it again after what you did to him! Pow, right in the kisser! That was amazing, Flynn."

“He wasn't expecting it," Flynn said, laughing as he took a step back from Calvin. Flynn put a hand behind his head and the other on his hip, striking his best sultry feminine pose in the dress he was still wearing, “from such a beautiful, defenseless woman!"

Calvin smiled, putting his hand on his chin as he ogled Flynn.

“She's a lot tougher than she looks! Watch out boys, word is she hits like a man!"

“Word is she does some other things like a man. Has some things too, that's what I hear," Flynn said, biting his lips and sauntering back to Calvin.

Calvin grinned eagerly, eyelids half-closed as he wrapped his arms around Flynn's back and slid them down the dress.

“What a scandal," Calvin said with mock indignation, enjoying the little roleplay they'd started. “But can those rumors about her possibly be true?"

Flynn bit his lip, thinking about continuing what they'd started earlier. It was reckless, absolutely, in light of the trap they'd just escaped from and with the soldiers right outside the door. But if they were going to come straight for them they would have done it by now. Maybe Calvin was right and Mason was too humiliated to even try anything again. Even if they did, now that the door was barricaded they'd have plenty of time to escape no matter what they were in the middle of. Why not be in the middle of something fun...

Flynn tilted his head up so that his mouth was next to Calvin's ear. He nibbled on it enticingly.

“Why don't you take this dress off 'her' and find out," he whispered.

Calvin slid his hand down Flynn's body. Then up it. Then across his arm and up to his neck, then down again to his tail poking out of the hole widened by Captain Mason, feeling every curve and contour of the deer's body.

“Stop teasing me..." Flynn whispered.

“So funny thing is," Calvin said with a chuckle, “taking dresses off women isn't something I have a lot of experience with, believe it or not."

Flynn smiled, trying not to laugh. He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“It's really easy actually, just up and over. Sit down on the bed and this I'll show you," Flynn said. He could do it this way too, stripping off the dress while Calvin watched.

Flynn didn't wait for Calvin to sit, instead taking charge by pushing him down on to the bed. Calvin seemed to enjoy it more than Flynn thought he might. Flynn took a step back and started to lift up his dress, but it was now nearly totally dark outside and getting hard to see in the room.

“Actually, let's get some light in here first," Flynn said. He spotted the oil lamp that had been on the table, now carelessly tossed on the pile in front of the door. As he tried lighting in, Calvin took the opportunity to lean over the bed and grab the garment box that had all their belongings in it. He still had Thayer's revolver tucked into his waistband and, given that sex seemed imminent to him now, he needed to put it away. He also needed to get the nearly empty bottle of olive oil out of the box for the same reason.

With Flynn distracted by the lamp he carefully pulled the revolver from his waistband and put it in the box, wedging it underneath the extra sets of work clothes. He felt around inside the box and found the olive oil and set it on the bed, placing it under the pillow. As he did, Flynn managed to light the lamp and set it on the floor. The flame cast a warm, dancing orange glow throughout the room, bright enough to see but dim enough to entice.

Calvin leaned back on the bed and watched, eyes hungry with desire, as Flynn hiked up his dress and paced slowly, teasingly towards him.

“You just grab it right here..." Flynn said as he stood in front on Calvin, sliding his hands down his own body to his thighs, “and lift it, up and over."

Calvin licked his lips as Flynn started lifting the dress. Inch by inch Flynn raised it, revealing first his hooves, a sight Calvin was always happy to see. But as he raised it further, over his digitigrade heels and up his leg, Calvin saw that Flynn was wearing something underneath the dress.

“What are you wearing on your..."

“You have to watch the tail, it can be tricky," Flynn said, intentionally cutting him off. He'd been waiting for this moment, this surprise for Calvin, and he wanted to tease him as much as he could.

Flynn spun around, presenting his ass right in front of Calvin's face, his light blue and white tail raised high through the hole in the dress.

“Have to make sure it slides right out, don't want your tail to get caught in the fabric. So you have to just lift straight up. Kind of helps if you… bend over a little," Flynn said as he leaned forward, pushing his ass even closer to Calvin's face.

Flynn lifted up the blue dress, the ruffles catching the flickering lamplight as he did. Calvin watched wordlessly as the deer's tail disappeared through the hole and under the dress, then reappeared as Flynn pulled the fabric up to his waist and pushed his ass back even closer to Calvin's face. Flynn stopped there, looking over his shoulder, waiting for Calvin's reaction.

He didn't have to wait long. He felt Calvin's hands – both of them – on his ass, one on each cheek. Calvin slid his thumbs underneath the black silk panties Flynn was wearing, his hands tracing the stocking straps up to the garter belt.

“Oh my god, Flynn..." he heard Calvin say, the wolf's hands hungrily feeling their way down the straps to the black fishnet stockings Flynn was wearing. “Have you been wearing these the whole time?"

Flynn tried not to laugh as he pulled the dress over his head, fully removing it. What a silly question, he thought, but Calvin seemed to be enjoying it as he was enjoying wearing them.

“Picked them up at Arty's and threw them on the pile at the cash register while you weren't looking," Flynn said as he carefully folded the dress he'd just removed. “Figured if I was going to be playing the part of a lady I should go all the way, yeah?"

“Yeah..." Calvin whispered, still feeling Flynn's legs. He slid his hands back up to Flynn's butt as the deer leaned over to the stack of material next to the door and placed the folded blue dress on top of the dresser wedged against the door.

“Slight problem with the fit though," Flynn said, biting his lip as he slowly turned around. As he did Calvin could see that the front of the panties were doing a woefully inadequate job – they barely covered Flynn's balls, outlined clearly for Calvin to see behind the fabric. Flynn's sheath was totally exposed, jutting high out of the top of the silk undergarment with several inches of the pink tip of his cervine cock starting to emerge.

“Now that's not very ladylike..." Calvin said looking straight at Flynn's cock, reverting to the tone of mock indignation he'd used for their roleplay earlier.

Flynn snorted as he tried, unsuccessfully, to contain his laughter. It may have spoiled the mood a little, but Calvin didn't mind – he always loved seeing Flynn laugh.

Flynn, still laughing, leaned forward onto Calvin, gently pushing him down to the bed with his body weight. Calvin offered no resistance.

“You can be funny when you want to be, you know that Calvin?" Flynn said, now straddling Calvin on the bed, chest to chest, face to face, and still giggling.

“We're both a little funny," Calvin said with a grin, close enough for Flynn to feel the warmth of the wolf's breath on his nose. “And you can be a little assertive when you want to be, you know? Maybe even aggressive. Predatory. Pushing folks onto beds, slapping folks silly..."

Flynn started laughing again.

“I am not predatory, thank you very much!" Flynn said with a wide grin. Calvin grinned wide too, hearing the phrase that told him Flynn wanted to be poked, prodded, teased a bit. Calvin had more than that in mind; he had something special he'd been thinking of, and this seemed like the best time for it.

“Okay, sure, I believe you… but if you were, and I mean just if you were a predator, and I was your prey…" Calvin said before lowering his voice to a sultry whisper, “what would you tell me to do right now?"

Flynn leaned up, looking down at Calvin, seeing his wide grin. He wasn't sure what the wolf was up to, but he thought it would be fun to play along.

“Well… first thing I'd tell you is that you're entirely overdressed for this occasion," Flynn said. Calvin was still fully dressed in his suit.

Wordlessly, without breaking eyes with Flynn, Calvin leaned up slightly, gently urging Flynn off him for a moment and signaling his intent by unbuttoning his coat. Flynn shifted his weight to his knees to afford Calvin some room but he remained over the wolf, legs planted on either side of Calvin's hips. Still staring up at Flynn, Calvin started stripping off his clothes, item by item – first the coat, then the button-down shirt, then his undershirt so that he was bare-chested. Item by item he flung them away carelessly, contrasting so much with the way Flynn had gently folded his own dress.

Flynn expected Calvin to stop and say something at some point but he didn't. He continued removing his clothing. He took off his pants, then his underwear and, before Flynn knew it, he was straddling a totally nude wolf on the bed in their stateroom.

“Then what would you tell your prey to do..." Calvin asked in a low whisper. In the dim lamplight Flynn could see that his slick canine manhood was already halfway exposed, peaking out of his sheath.

“I'd tell him…" Flynn started, looking up and down down Calvin's body ravenously. “I'd tell him to be a good boy while I suck his cock..."

“You could tell your prey to do that if you really wanted, but that's not very predatory," Calvin responded coyly. Flynn opened his mouth and gasped slightly as he put the pieces together before Calvin spelled it out, as he realized what Calvin was trying to do, what he wanted.

“Prey don't get their cocks sucked, you know? They do the sucking," Calvin whispered. “Predators do what they want to their prey. Take them by force, pin them down, have their way with them... they get controlled and dominated by predators. Predators like you, Flynn. Prey get fucked."

Flynn didn't know what to say. In all his dreams and fantasies he was always the one pinned underneath, the one getting controlled, dominated – the one getting fucked. He and Calvin had been having sex for more than a month by now, nearly every day, but the thought of switching positions with him hadn't crossed Flynn's mind. Still, if Calvin wanted to try it then he supposed he was game. And, as he thought about it, there was something strangely alluring about the thought of a big, strong predator submitting himself to a much smaller, weaker prey species – especially one wearing women's undergarments. This could be fun too.

Still, he wasn't sure.

“Calvin, I dunno… is that something you want to do?" Flynn asked. He knew his bluntness would break the mood, but he and Calvin had never talked about this before and he wanted to get a feel for where Calvin's head was.

“Well I mean…" Calvin said, his voice back to normal, “I just figured, I'm always the one doing it to you, you know? So maybe I should… I dunno, know what it's like? And you seem to like it…"

“I seem to like it?" Flynn said with a sassy smile.

“You seem to like it a lot! Maybe I'm missing out on something?" Calvin said playfully. “I just figured it would be good to try, you know? If I don't like it, or if you don't like it, or if neither of us like it, we don't ever have to do it again. But I figured we won't know unless we try."

Flynn thought for a second. No, he hadn't ever considered switching positions with Calvin, but so what? Calvin made a good point. Flynn tried to think of a reason to say no but he came up blank.

Okay, Flynn thought. Why not?

“All right. We can try it," Flynn said quietly. “But none of that predator and prey stuff, okay? Just me and you. We don't need to pretend anything. You're all I want."

Calvin looked up at Flynn, smiling sincerely as he looked deeply into Flynn's crystal blue eyes, flickering orange lamplight dimly shining on his face.

“How did I get so lucky? God, Flynn, you're perfect. What did I ever do to deserve you..."

Flynn didn't answer. Not verbally, anyway. He closed his eyes leaned down to the muzzle of the gray wolf he was straddling. Calvin closed his eyes as their lips met, moaning softly as he felt Flynn's tongue enter his mouth. It danced over his sharp canine teeth, lustfully tasting the tools evolution has sculpted to tear into the flesh of species like his own.

Calvin's hands trailed down Flynn's body, fur filling the space between his fingers. He slid his hand along the deer's chest, rubbing his soft pink nipples with his thumbs before wandering down to his lean stomach and further down to his sheath. He wrapped his hand around Flynn's growing erection; he felt it extending out of the cervine's sheath, unmistakably inching out as it slid across his palm. He stroked it several times as their tongues continued to dance before exploring further down to Flynn's balls, covered in the silk of the black lace panties he was still wearing.

Something about the fabric made it even more alluring for Calvin. He wrapped his other hand around Flynn's backside, squeezing the deer's silk-covered ass. He began to lean up as they kissed, instinctively seeking to take the dominant position, but Flynn moved his hands to the wolf's chest, pushing him back down onto the bed and halting his progress.

“Nuh-uh... you forget already? You're not in charge any more," Flynn said, smiling as he broke their kiss and opened his eyes.

“Sorry," Calvin said meekly.

“No sorries," Flynn whispered.

He paused for a moment. as he considered making another comment about predators and prey. But those weren't the words that came out.

“Flip over on your stomach for me, Calvin..."

It sounded blunt, almost forced when he heard himself say it, but he knew this had to be something Calvin let him do. Calvin could do what he did, lean up like he was about to and physically coerce Flynn into position. He'd stop if Flynn didn't want it, of course – he'd never make Flynn do anything he didn't want to do – but they both knew that Flynn could never physically stop Calvin. In all the actions of their lovemaking there was never any doubt who was stronger, who was dominating and who was being dominated. In the end Flynn liked it that way, and so did Calvin. But if they were going to try something new and switch roles Calvin still needed to be in charge, at least in one sense. He had to willfully relinquish control and give it to Flynn.

Calvin smiled up at Flynn for a moment before answering.

“Okay," was all he said.

Flynn felt Calvin's thighs flex against his own as the wolf began turning over underneath him. Flynn lifted himself slightly as Calvin slowly, deliberately, lifted his ass off the bed and turned over. He twisted his lower body first, prolonging his gaze as long as he could before his upper body followed.

He lowered himself back down on the bed and onto his stomach. Flynn watched as he he stretched one arm over his head and beneath a pillow. With the other he reached back to his own tail, pulling it up towards his head to free it from underneath Flynn. When it was free he looked back to see the expression on Flynn's face as he wagged his tail across the blue deer's chest teasingly several times before allowing it to rest on his shoulder.

Calvin smirked as he saw the face Flynn was making. Flynn's jaw was half-open, tongue at the cusp of his lower lip as he stared entranced at the nude wolf's ass. Calvin felt Flynn gently put his hands on each cheek; he slowly pushed back, lifting his waist a few inches off the bed to give Flynn a better view. Calvin felt his own erection slide backwards against the bed sheet, first the shaft, then only the tip, then just a thin string of his own precum as he inched his ass upwards.

At that moment a thousand thoughts were in Flynn's head. His mind went back to that moment in Pennsylvania just a month and a half ago. This is the same monster that I shot at and who shot back, the same one who shot my antler off, Flynn thought. This is the same beast that chased me in that field. He almost killed me. He could have.

Flynn ran his hands down the beast's large, muscular ass. Everything about him is huge, Flynn thought. His arms are twice as big as mine at least, his thighs are nearly as big as my waist. His chest is nothing like mine, muscle stacked on bulging muscle, just like his ass. This ass…

Flynn's hands reached the base of Calvin's tail and settled on the rim of his tailhole. Even that is huge, Flynn found himself thinking for a moment as he spread it with his thumbs. But he's got more than a hundred pounds of solid muscle on me and he's nearly a foot taller, of course his is bigger than mine.

Flynn spread Calvin's cheeks wider and, without thinking, started sliding his right thumb into the wolf. But as he did he felt Calvin lower himself back down. He only lowered an inch or two, but it was enough for Flynn to realize his mistake.

“Ah, sorry. Did that hurt? I wasn't thinking, I..." Flynn started.

“No, it didn't. 'No sorries,' remember?" Calvin interrupted, still looking back at Flynn. “Just… I'm not used to that."

Flynn watched as Calvin reached under the pillow and pulled out the familiar bottle of olive oil.

“Use this," Calvin finished.

Flynn took the bottle, holding it in his hand for a moment. There was only a tiny bit left.

“Calvin," Flynn said, now looking past the bottle, past the wolf ass being presented to him and at Calvin's face, still looking over his shoulder. “Have you ever… practiced before?"

Calvin lowered himself fully back onto the bed. Flynn saw him look away, towards the lamp flickering on the ground.

“No," Calvin said in a tone that Flynn thought was almost that of shame. “It didn't hurt though. I just… wasn't expecting it, I guess."

“Do you want to stop? It's okay if you do." Flynn asked. Calvin had always been worried about hurting him, now he understood why. Despite his size and his strength, Calvin seemed vulnerable right now.

“No! No, I don't. I think maybe I just need some guidance. You're a good teacher, you taught me to swim."

“I taught you to float," Flynn corrected with a smile. “That's not the same thing. You still can't swim. I don't think that makes me a very good teacher."

“Well, if you didn't teach me to swim you still taught me not to be afraid of the water. And I've been afraid of the water my whole life. But I'm not afraid of this..."

Calvin lifted his ass back up off the bed. He did it quicker this time, and before Flynn knew it he'd lifted it further than it had been previously, up and into him. Calvin pressed firmly back into Flynn.

“So teaching me this will be easy for you."

Flynn looked away from Calvin's eyes and downward. His cervine cock was rock hard, fully emerged from his sheath and pointed upwards. Drops of precum dribbled from the tip down its length, glistening pink in the faint lamplight. Calvin had pushed back far enough that his shaft was now nestled firmly between the wolf's cheek, the base of his cock touching Calvin's tailhole.

Flynn placed his free hand on the top of Calvin's long tail. He felt the fur flowing between his fingers as he stroked it upwards, pressing it against his own chest. It was so soft, silky, fluffy – such a contrast between it and the solid, muscular body it was connected to.

“I don't think there's much to teach," Flynn said as he lowered his hand back down to Calvin's ass. “You just have to kind of relax, let it happen."

“That's pretty much the same thing you told me about swimming. I think I figured out your teaching style, give the same advice every time and hope for the best. One trick pony," Calvin said jokingly. He started gently rolling his hips against Flynn, teasing the deer's cock by sliding it between his cheeks and over his tailhole.

“Hey, if the same trick works for swimming as for taking cock, might as well use it, right? And I'm pretty good at both, thank you very much," Flynn said as he opened the nearly empty bottle of olive oil. “I do more than one trick though. Use more of this stuff than you think you'll need, for one. You already know that one."

Flynn poured a dab of olive oil into his palm. He pulled his own hips away from Calvin and slid his hand to Calvin's tailhole, covering it in the oil. As he rubbed it on he slowly, carefully began to push his middle finger into Calvin. This time there was no resistance.

“That one does seem to work well..." Calvin said, feeling comfortable as Flynn worked his finger in and out of him. “Got any more tips?"

“I might have one for you..." Flynn said as he slid his finger out of Calvin.

“Yeah?" Calvin replied with false surprise, wagging his ass and his tail as Flynn poured the very last drops of olive oil from the bottle into his hand.

“Yeah… Not as big as yours." Flynn answered as he coated the length of his slick, tapered deer cock.

“Longer than mine."

“That doesn't matter as much for this," Flynn said as he put the cork back on the now empty bottle and set it aside.

He leaned forward slightly, allowing the length of his cock to slide between Calvin's cheeks a few more times. The downward pointing chevron-patterned streaks of fur on his back seemed to be directing Flynn towards his tail, ass and tailhole, almost guiding him in.

“Are you ready?" Flynn asked. Despite Calvin's predator and prey banter, despite the fact that Flynn was behind the wolf with his cock gliding along his tailhole, Flynn still felt like Calvin was in charge. He still needed that unequivocal permission.

“Yes..." Calvin sighed, leaning back an inch more.

Flynn reached down to his own cock, long and slender and covered in oil. He stroked up once more to make sure every inch of it was slick, up to the tapered tip dripping precum on Calvin's ass, then back down to the medial ring. He wrapped two fingers underneath it with his thumb on top. His hips went backwards several inches, allowing him to align the tip of his cock to Calvin's waiting tailhole and, when it was, he slowly pushed forward.

Flynn's slow, methodical approach had given Calvin a chance to take the advice he'd been given. Calvin closed his eyes and tried to relax like Flynn had told him. Let go, he thought. For this moment, let go of the control, give it to Flynn. He loves you. He'll never hurt you. Trust him. Stop fighting, Calvin. Stop fighting and let Flynn take control. Let it happen.

“Mmmggh..." Calvin moaned as he felt Flynn enter him. There was no pain as he feared there would be. It was a strange feeling, one he had no frame of reference for, a deep fullness that he couldn't explain.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?" Flynn asked concerned, pausing, not sure if the noise Calvin made was from pleasure or pain.

“It doesn't hurt… don't stop..." Calvin whispered.

Warm. That was the thing Flynn thought as he slowly slid deeper into Calvin. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but the thought that it would be this warm hadn't crossed his mind. He wasn't sure why – of course it would be warm, why wouldn't it be? He just hadn't thought of it, and he wasn't expecting it to be such an intense, surrounding warmth enveloping his entire cock, so unlike his own hand or even Calvin's mouth. It felt so good.

Tight. That was the second thing Flynn thought as he slowly sank further into Calvin, past the medial ring, until the entirety of his maleness was inside the wolf. Again, he wasn't sure why he was so surprised – of course it would be tight. But feeling it was something entirely different than imagining it.

Calvin felt Flynn enter him fully, felt Flynn pressing into him as far as he could. He felt Flynn's hips against him and the silk of the garter belt and panties he was still wearing. He slid his arms under the pillow his cheek was pressed against and once again closed his eyes as he felt Flynn slowly withdraw.

Calvin felt the ridge of Flynn's medial ring when Flynn had withdrawn about half his length. He felt it again when Flynn paused, then pressed back in, just as slowly and tentatively. He continued like this several more times, and each time Calvin could distinctly feel every inch of Flynn as he slid in and out.

Flynn had been worried that he'd hurt Calvin, but it was apparent to him now that even without practice that wasn't a concern. Whether it was the fact that Calvin was simply much larger than him or the fact that his cervine penis was so thin and smooth when compared to the canine's or something else entirely, he couldn't say. He just knew Calvin was ready.

Flynn placed his hands on Calvin's hips, grabbing tightly. He began to speed up, slowly at first to see if he met with any resistence, but progressive faster and harder, deeper and more powerfully with each thrust. Before he knew it he was no longer tentatively pressing into Calvin but now humping in earnest.

He looked down at the huge wolf he was riding and had the same thought as before. This is the beast that chased me in that field – held a bayonet over me ready to kill me, knocked me out with the butt of his rifle. But this is also Calvin, the wolf I've fallen in love with. Two months ago I didn't know him, and the first time I saw him I thought I was going to die. Now I can't imagine life without him.

Without pulling out of Calvin, Flynn shifted his weight to the left and lifted up his right leg, planting his hoof on the white bedsheet. He pushed up, lifting his other silk stocking-clad leg before setting his hoof down on the bed. Calvin wasn't so much larger than him that he had to standing up, but on his knees he was a little lower against Calvin than was ideal. In this squatting position, balanced with his weight on his hooves, Flynn was able to hold on to Calvin's hips for leverage. He pulled up on Calvin's tail to get a better view.

“Flynn what are you… Hnngh..." Calvin moaned as the blue deer thrust deeply into him.

Calvin bit the pillow he was holding onto as Flynn fucked him roughly. With each thrust Calvin could feel his body being pushed into the bed, with each one he heard the slapping of Flynn's hips on his ass, with each one he felt the entire length of Flynn's cock slide into him.

“Annhhh…" Calvin moaned again as Flynn humped faster and faster, in total control as he hammered him, plunging his dick into Calvin several times each second. He'd matched the speed of the paddlewheel outside their window, the faint chush-chush-chush-chush of the paddles churning the waters of the Mississippi being drowned out by the wet slapping sounds of sex.

Flynn bent forward, groping his hands through the fur on Calvin's heavily muscled back and up to his wide shoulders. One of his hooves dug into the bedsheet he was standing on top of. The sheet ripped loudly and Flynn's hoof slipped along the mattress, but even as he slipped he didn't stop pistoning Calvin's ass. He didn't slow down as his hoof found solid purchase on the bed once again, hunching down further to get a better grip on Calvin's shoulders with his silk-covered ass and flagging blue and white tail in the air. He felt himself getting close.

Calvin clutched the pillow tighter; this was so much different than being on the other end, he thought. Different, but not bad. Exciting in a totally different way. He found himself pushing back into Flynn each time he thrust, intensifying the noise they were making.

“Oh god, Flynn!" Calvin yelled, almost certainly loud enough for the soldiers waiting outside the room to hear.

“Calvin! I'm gonna cum!" Flynn cried out.

“Yes!" Calvin screamed.

“Calv… Ahhhnnnn!!"

Flynn slammed his hips forward into Calvin's ass as he reached orgasm. He held there as a thick jet of deer cum erupted out of the tip of his tapered cervine cock. Flynn's poured his seed deep inside the wolf almost twice his size, the predator who almost killed him.

“Ahhhh!" Flynn moaned as he pulled out slightly before thrusting back in with the second voluminous pulse. As he did he let his body fall onto Calvin's, pressing his chest tightly against Calvin's back and wrapping his arms around Calvin's chest, his snout and head pressed against the side of Calvin's neck. He was touching Calvin on every point of his body that he possibly could now, covering him as completely as he was able despite his smaller size, squeezing him tightly with his arms wrapped around him, breeding him.

“Hahhh..." he exhaled into Calvin's neck fur for the third pulse as he continued filling Calvin, the incredible quantity of cum he ejaculated with each pulse well known to both of them from previous experience. He thought of all the times he'd made Flynn cum before, the incredible amount of cum the deer always let loose, thick white jets that sprayed for yards and covered everything. He's doing that inside me now.

“Hahhhhhhh…" Calvin heard in his ear as Flynn unloaded his fourth torrent in him.

Calvin felt the warmth and the fullness spreading deep inside him as Flynn filled his ass with cum. He himself was fully erect now, canine cock completely unsheathed and dripping precum on the bed sheet. He was breathing heavily, panting, as Flynn's pulses subsided. He could hear that Flynn was too as he held in place for a moment. He could feel the deer's hot breath on him.

Calvin turned his head to Flynn's, still pressed against his neck as the deer stayed within him in post-coital bliss. He felt Flynn's tight grip around his chest loosen as he did, felt Flynn move his head slightly away. Then, in the flickering orange light, their eyes met.

No words were spoken before their kiss. Their tongues tangled in each other's mouths, Flynn's running over the wolf's predatory canines and Calvin's feeling the slight ridges on the deer's flat premolars evolved to feed on plants. Their anatomies were so different, their species so dissimilar, their histories and lives before they met so far apart. They'd almost killed each other when they'd first met, enemies on the battlefield – yet here they were. None of it made sense, but it didn't have to. They'd found each other. They were with each other. They knew what they had now, and that they could never live without it again. Nothing else mattered.

As they broke their kiss Calvin felt Flynn slowly, smoothly, begin to pull out. He felt Flynn's medial ring pass his own ring. As it did a thick gush of cum squirted out, coating the base of Flynn's cock and splashing against the panties he was still wearing. It soaked into the fabric and dripped down the black silk covering his balls. He continued pulling out, slowly, until finally the last few tapered inches of his cum-drenched cock flopped heavily out of Calvin's tailhole. It was trailed by a wash of deer cum which flowed down the back of Calvin's furry balls and pooled underneath him on the bed.

“What a mess you've made..." Calvin said jokingly as he looked back after a few more moments of heavy breathing.

“Mm-hmm. Now you know how it feels..." Flynn said teasingly, still catching his breath as he lifted his hoof off the bed and set it down on the floor, looking for something to clean up with. “How was it? For you, I mean."

“Interesting," Calvin said as he lowered himself down onto his stomach. “Not bad. Just different. I think I like it the normal way better. Good to try new things though. What about you?"

“The 'normal' way?"

“You know what I mean."

“Yeah, I do. That was intense but... I kind of feel the same way. I think I like you on top of me better," Flynn said with a smirk as he pulled out one of the drawers of the dresser stacked against the door, looking for a spare towel – and a spare bedsheet. “We'll keep that one in mind if I'm ever feeling 'predatory' though."

“You've got a confused way of being predatory, next time give a guy some warning," Calvin said, a sly smirk on his face now too.

“Oh yeah? How do you figure? I told you when I was about to cum," Flynn answered as he turned to Calvin, smiling. He knew by now the ways Calvin ham-handedly set up his jokes, and he loved him for it.

“Yeah, but I never expected such a 'pretty lady' to do that when I started taking her dress off!"

Flynn snorted loudly again as he tried and failed to contain a surprised laugh before covering his mouth. Calvin smiled and rolled to his side, keeping his eyes on the laughing deer lit dimly by the lamplight.

“You can be real funny when you want to be..." Flynn said through his laughter, ignoring for now the task of cleaning up their mess.

“So I've been told," Calvin answered, looking now into Flynn's eyes. He saw the deer's blue eyes look down his naked body, down to the full erection he still had.

“I remember something else you were told, too. Did you forget, 'prey'?" Flynn said seductively.

“Something to do with this?" Calvin asked mischievously as he wrapped his hand around the base of his own erection, bobbing it up and down.

“Yeah, something to do with that," Flynn said as he fell back onto the bed. “Now be a good boy while I suck your cock."

---

I am ready to follow you, even though I don't know where.

I will wait in the night until you decide to take me there.

'Cause I know I don't want to stay here forever, it's time to be moving on.

I don't want to be the only one living when all of my friends are gone.

~Lord Huron – Frozen Pines

August 17, 1863

Mississippi River, Jefferson County, Missouri

It was three o'clock in the morning and Calvin hadn't slept for two nights. Since the moment Flynn had slapped Captain Mason and they'd run back to their stateroom Calvin had expected that, at any moment, the captain and a dozen soldiers would try to enter their room and arrest him.

But it hadn't happened. The first night when he saw the soldiers outside their room and barricaded their door he'd expected it would happen soon. When Flynn convinced him that they didn't have to jump immediately because the barricade would give them plenty of time, when they'd had sex, when Flynn fell asleep in his arms the first night it still hadn't happened. They spent the entire day of August 16th locked in their room with every item pushed against the door, talking, looking out the window, having sex, talking some more, having sex some more, waiting. The sun set and the moon rose, but no one ever came to their door.

And Calvin didn't sleep. No one had come to the door, but he knew they could at any time. So he remained vigilant. He had to. The naked deer sleeping peacefully, safe and warm in his arms was his whole world now. He would protect him no matter the cost. He'd pretended to go to sleep with Flynn both nights they were aboard Sultana, but he'd stayed awake through the night listening, waiting, ready to jump into action at any moment. He wouldn't let Captain Mason surprise them.

Now, deep into the second night aboard Sultana, they were almost in St. Louis. They'd arrive by daybreak. Maybe Flynn was right, he thought, as he listened to the wind howl and the rain outside lash against the blackness of the window. Maybe the captain had been so thoroughly humiliated that he decided not to pursue them any further. In just a few hours they'd be at their destination, in just a few days they'd be heading west away from all this and into the frontier. Maybe everything would work out after all.

Calvin was truly struggling to stay awake by this point. He hadn't slept since they left the flatboat before dawn two days ago. Forty-six hours, he thought, going back through the events of the past few days and tallying the hours in his mind. I've been awake for forty-six hours. I don't think I've ever stayed awake this long in my life. I don't know how much longer I can do this.

Maybe I can catch a few hours of sleep. It's been so long, they would have come by now if they were coming, right? This bed is so comfortable, and it's so warm underneath these covers with Flynn in my arms. I'll just rest my eyes. Just for a moment...

Calvin was drifting off when he heard it. It sounded like a faint scratching at the door, slow and deliberate, followed by the heavy turning of metal on metal as the door was unlocked from the outside.

Calvin's eyes shot open. He threw off the covers and sprang out of bed just as the door cracked open an inch before being blocked by the wall of furniture they'd pushed against it.

“Flynn! Wake up!!" Calvin yelled.

The door slammed loudly now into the pile of furniture, shaking the bed Flynn was still laying on. He opened his eyes to see Calvin shaking him.

“Get dressed! They've come for me!!" Calvin cried.

Flynn shook off the confusion of being woken in the middle of the night, quickly understanding what was happening and what they had to do.

“It's blocked! It won't open!" Flynn heard someone yell from the hallway outside their door as he rolled off the bed and planted his hooves on the floor. Calvin had grabbed the garment box that their spare clothes were in and pulled out Flynn's extra shirt and pair of pants, extending his hand for Flynn to grab them while pulling out his extra clothes with the other hand. The finely tailored suit, the beautiful blue dress – these would have to be abandoned along with almost everything else.

The door crashed brutally against the pile of furniture, shaking the entire room. Through the crack between the door and the frame, just an inch or two, light poured into the dark room for a moment before the door again crashed into the furniture. Someone was throwing themselves at it. They were trying to ram down the door.

For just a second Calvin thought he saw who it was. He couldn't tell for sure, but he thought it was the ox from the crew's lounge, the same one who had fallen on the floor laughing at the captain. And as he pulled away from the door Calvin saw, unmistakably, that there were at least eight, maybe ten Union soldiers in the hallway behind him waiting for him to knock down the door so they could rush into the room.

Calvin and Flynn hastily threw on their spare work clothes as the ox again threw himself once more at the door. The violent impact sent the water pitcher and bowl tumbling from atop the pile down to the floor.

“Won't budge! They got all kind of shit stacked against the door!" the ox yelled from the hallway after his final attempt to ram it down.

“Well don't just stand there, push it out of the way!" Another voice replied. For both Flynn and Calvin that voice was unmistakable. It was Captain James Cass Mason.

Calvin knew what came next. He and Flynn were about to have to set their last desperate plan in motion, leaping from the window down to the black waters below, into the violent churn of the paddlewheels. There was no alternative now.

Flynn was opening the window now. Calvin just had one last thing to do, one item he absolutely had to take with them on their journey. He dug through the garment box looking for the cigar case; they needed that money to pay for their passage on a wagon train out of St. Louis, along with months of supplies they'd need for the journey.

Where was it? Calvin frantically but fruitlessly tore through the box. He picked up the box and dumped its contents on the floor, tearing through the extra food and clothes looking for the one item that was so crucial to their escape. But it wasn't there. The cigar case with all their money – nearly two-hundred dollars still left even after they bought the clothes and the steamboat tickets, more than a year's wages from his time in the army – was gone.

Flynn opened the window, sliding the pane as far as it would go. As he did, the heavy rain that had been lashing against the window while the storm outside raged began blowing into the stateroom, drenching Flynn and the carpet next to the window. The deafening noise of the paddlewheels just outside filled the room, bolstered by the howling wind and the sound of rolling thunder.

“Calvin! We have to go! Now!" Flynn yelled as loud as he could.

“It's gone! The cigar case, all our money is gone!" Calvin yelled, the anguish in his voice apparent. “Mason stole it! He must have! God damn him, he must have sent someone into our room while we were away and stole it!"

“We don't have time! We'll think of something!" Flynn screamed. “We have to jump!"

But Calvin couldn't let it go. What would they do now? Even if they made it out of this room alive and made it to the riverbank, without any money they'd never be able to make it west. He felt the rage at Captain Mason building inside of him, the same rage he felt when he saw him groping Flynn.

Among the scattered contents of the garment box Calvin saw the protruding handle of the revolver. I'll kill him, Calvin thought again, blinded by anger. I'll kill him. He's ruined everything, he's ruined everything for us. I'll fucking kill him.

Calvin picked up the revolver and tucked it into his pants. As he stood, he looked towards the door and saw fingers prying through the small gap between it and the doorframe. They were trying to untie the curtain from around the doorknob, the one Flynn had tied as an extra safeguard. Calvin recognized those fingers – they belonged to an enormous elk. They were the same ones that had slid underneath Flynn's dress. Captain Mason.

Calvin's lips curled into a snarl, baring his sharp canine teeth. He screamed with rage as he lunged at the door.

“Calvin! No! You can't fight! They'll kill you!" Flynn screamed from beside the window, lashed with rain as he watched the enraged wolf leap on the pile of furniture and savagely slam the door with his fist, crushing the fingers and hand prying through between the door and its frame.

“ Gyahhhhh! My hand!!" Flynn heard Mason scream over the churn of the paddlewheels and the storm. “My fucking hand! You broke my fucking hand, you son of a bitch! Grahhhhh!!"

At that moment a lightning bolt streaked down from the sky, striking the river only a few hundred feet away from Sultana. The entire room flashed in blinding white light for a split-second before the ear-splitting crack of thunder exploded like a gunshot into the room.

“Calvin!" Flynn screamed again as he watched Calvin stumble backwards. He could still hear Mason wailing in the hallway as he saw Calvin's legs falter and fail him. He collapsed onto the floor, curling himself into a fetal position with his hands pressed tightly against his ears and his eyes shut tight, the knuckles on the hand he'd used to hit the door now bloody. It was the Nostalgia, Flynn knew. A flashback. He was having an episode.

The screaming, the lightning, the violence, his own rage and the pain of hitting the door triggered Calvin, sent him back to the war. Visions of death and carnage raced in front of his eyes as his mind collapsed in on itself. He was trembling, whimpering and scared with his head in his hands on the floor, reliving the horrors he experienced as a soldier. Cowering behind a flimsy wooden fence at the Battle of Second Mannasas, blood spattering on his face as a cannonball eviscerated the soldier beside him. Shattered men dying in a field, crying for help or their mothers or water as he ran in retreat from the victorious Confederates, bullets whizzing by him. The stench of rotting corpses. The badger. The face of the badger he murdered, blood pouring from his mouth.

“Calvin!" Flynn screamed again as he rushed to his side. He shook Calvin as he crouched down on his knees beside the wolf.

“Calvin! Calvin, come back to me!"

The howling wind outside continued to blow rain into the room through the open window. It blew against Flynn's back as he desperately shook Calvin.

“Calvin! Come back! Please come back to me! Not now, not now, not now! We have to go! We have to go!"

Flynn grabbed Calvin's wrists, trying to pry his hands from over his ears. But he couldn't. Calvin was too strong. He tried shaking him more, anything to snap him out of it, but the pained grimace on his face and the whimpering continued. It would have to run its course, it would take however long it took; there was nothing he could do to bring Calvin back.

“Calvin please! Please, Calvin, please! Come back! Come back to me!" He cried, a tear falling from his eye and mixing with the pelting rain.

The storm in Calvin's mind swirled, but there was a break in the clouds, a window for him to jump through to come back. Flynn's pained cries might have opened it, or maybe his experience with prior flashbacks. Maybe just time. Whatever it was, it allowed a tiny part of his conscious brain to wrest back enough control to crack one eyelid open.

He saw Flynn above him, crying. Hurting. It was the one thing he swore he'd never do to him again. It snapped him, immediately, out of the flashback and back to the present reality.

“Flynn!" he yelled as he brought his hands away from his ears to Flynn's face, cradling his cheeks and looking into his teary eyes. He leaned up. He kissed him.

Flynn felt the electric tingle, the same one he felt the first time they kissed. He felt the rain lashing his back, the same as it had fallen on Calvin's back the first time they'd made love beside that creek in the Pennsylvania woods. He's come back, Flynn knew. He's come back to me.

Before they'd broken their kiss a new, sharp, fierce crash came from the door as something slammed into it. Flynn flinched and turned his head quickly while Calvin leaned up. What they saw made both their hearts sink.

The head of an axe had been driven into the center of the door. From the first strike just a few inches of the blade poked through, surrounded by splinters. It wedged up and down several times as it was pried out of the door. Almost as soon as it was removed it again crashed through the door, further this time.

“They're smashing through the door! They're gonna chop it down!" Flynn yelled. “Calvin! We have to jump! Now!"

Crash!

Another axe blow was delivered into the door, this one sending a spray of splinters into the room and onto the bed as the entire axe head jutted through the newly created hole in the center of the door.

Flynn sprang up, holding Calvin's hand as they dashed to the window.

“Son of a bitch! I'll see you hang, Calvin Riley! Deserter! I'll see you on the fucking gallows!" they heard Captain James Cass Mason scream through the small hole in the door. “And I'll laugh! I'll fucking laugh when you're swinging by your neck!"

Crash!

The door was beginning to disintegrate as Calvin and Flynn hopped up onto the window sill. They tried to steady themselves with wet fingers as the wind and rain continued to pummel them from the pitch darkness outside. Calvin looked down and through the darkness could just see the paddlewheels churning the inky black water below them, the Chush-Chush-Chush-Chush-Chush of them drowning out almost every other noise.

_ Crash! _

The door was barely holding together. A few more strikes and they'd be able to get through.

“Do you remember what to do?!" Flynn yelled over the noise of the wind and the rain and the thunder and the paddlewheels below them.

“Deep breath! Straight out! Belly flop!" Calvin yelled, squinting as the rain pelted his face.

“Yes! I'll dive! I will find you!" Flynn yelled back.

_ Crash! _

“On three! We jump on three!" Flynn yelled.

“Okay! On three!" Calvin yelled back through the storm.

_ Crash! _

“One!"

“Flynn!"

_ Crash! _

“Two!"

“I love you!"

Flynn paused for half a second. He wanted to hug Calvin, he wanted to kiss him right then and there as he saw his face, wind sweeping and whipping his soaked fur and wet ears. He wanted to say he loved him too, at least. But there was no time. They'd run out of time.

CRASH!!

The top half of the door shattered from the final axe blow. In seconds the soldiers would be in the room.

“Three!"

Calvin and Flynn leaped out of the window of their stateroom aboard the steamboat Sultana. They each fell alone into the darkness, down, down, down – down towards the deep, dark gray of the Mississippi River.

---

Flynn dove straight down towards the water being churned and devoured Sultana's paddlewheel as Calvin leaped outward and over him. Flynn fell for longer than he thought he would before entering the cold water headfirst, arms stretched above his antler. But he'd misjudged the distance slightly and did not enter in a perfectly straight dive. He didn't go as deep as he needed to.

As he plunged into the water, Sultana and its paddlewheel kept moving forward, fighting the current north and up the river without him. The paddlewheel caught him and overtook him. One of the unstoppable wooden paddles struck his left thigh just below his still-healing wound. A fraction of a second later the next paddle caught his hoof and sent him spinning, spiraling deep underwater.

The pain in his leg was intense as he spun and tumbled in the turbulent wake of the paddlewheel far below the surface of the water. He struggled to regain his bearings and orient himself so that he could swim upwards. He didn't know how badly he was hurt, if the paddlewheel had torn open his old would or created a new one, but he couldn't think about that now. He had to get back to the surface, back to Calvin.

From under the water he could hear Sultana steaming away. The water stopped churning and he finally managed to regain his bearings. He immediately began swimming upwards, kicking with both legs even though it hurt terribly and sweeping his arms in wide arcs. After just a few skillful strokes he was nearly to the surface.

“Calvin!" Flynn called into the dark the instant he emerged from underwater. All he heard in reply was the howling wind, the sheets of rain falling into the water all around him and the quieting chush-chush-chush of the steamboat as it plodded away from him.

“Calvin! Calvin!!" he yelled into the night. He twisted and spun in the water, looking around him but seeing nothing in the dark besides the black waters stretching out in all directions.

“No, no, no, no..." Flynn muttered to himself as he scrambled to see some sign, anything, of where Calvin was.

He submerged himself again, hoping to hear something under the water. That's how he found Jonathan when he was drowning. But all he could hear was the now fainter sound of the paddlewheels moving upriver as he drifted the other way.

Flynn burst out of the water again. He was panicking. It shouldn't be taking this long. It can't take this long.

“ Calvin!! Where are you?! Calvin!! Calvin!! Answer me, please!!" he screamed.

Calvin was drowning. He had to be. He was drowning and Flynn couldn't save him.

If I just knew where he was I could still save him, Flynn thought. But I don't. I can't see him. I can't hear him. I've let him down like I let down Edward, and now they're both dead because of me.

“ Calvin!! Calvin!! Please!!"

I'm cursed. Everyone I love dies, and it's my fault. I didn't even tell him I loved him one last time. I've lost him.

I've killed him. I ruin everything I touch. This was what he was most afraid of and I led him straight to it. It was his deepest fear and I brought it to him. He's drowned.

I've killed him. I'm a monster. I'll never find anyone like him. There is no one else like him, he's the love of my life. And I've killed him. He trusted me and I killed him.

I don't deserve to live any more. Without Calvin I don't want to. I can't. He's all I have.

He's all I have.

“ Calvin!!" Flynn screamed hoarsely into the storm. “ No! Calvin!! Please god, no!!"

The black clouds in the night sky broke at that moment, a tiny gap between them allowing the bright gray light of the full moon to shine down through the rain onto the river. Through tears, Flynn looked up at the moon.

• -

“I love you!" Calvin yelled at Flynn a moment before the axe shattered the door behind them.

“Three!"

On Flynn's count, Calvin inhaled deeply and leaped as hard as he could from the window. He was terrified of what came next, but as he fell he knew his only chance was to focus on what Flynn told him so that he wouldn't drown.

He wasn't ready for the pain as he landed on his stomach in the dark water with an enormous splash. But he knew he couldn't exhale, no matter what, and the air remained in his lungs. He'd leaped far enough out and away from Sultana that he cleared the paddles, but the churn of the water around them sent him spinning under the water. He kept his eyes shut tight as he spun, trying not to scream, willing himself not to panic, not to fight the water just as Flynn had taught him. He knew if he did it was all over.

He felt himself stop spinning and opened his eyes. Through blurred vision he could tell he was facing upwards, only a foot or two under the surface of the water. I'll be okay, he thought. Don't fight it. Stretch out your arms and your legs and you'll float. It's just like in that stream in Pennsylvania, when Flynn first showed you how. Don't fight it and you'll float to the surface. Don't fight the water and you will live.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong, Calvin realized. He waited several seconds with his arms and legs outstretched looking up at the surface of the water so close that he could reach out and touch it. But he wasn't floating towards it. No, he realized. I'm sinking.

Every ounce of him screamed to panic when he realized he was sinking slowly down into the darkness. His instincts told him to fight, claw his way up, do something, do something, do anything to not sink into the abyss and drown.

No, he thought. I can't panic. I can't fight. Don't fight it! Remember what Flynn said! If you try to fight it you've already lost! You have to work with it! How is it working now? Why am I sinking? Think, Calvin, think! Why are you sinking?

Because I'm still fighting.

A calm passed over Calvin. It was the gun. It was Will Thayer's revolver still tucked into his pants. The heavy, cold metal was pulling him down like an anchor. He'd grabbed it when the rage and anger swept through him, that moment he'd realized Captain Mason stole his money along with the one chance he had at a new life with Flynn. He'd vowed to kill Mason. He'd vowed to fight. But it was a fight he couldn't win. It's a game he would have lost as soon as he played it.

Slowly Calvin reached for the gun tucked into his belt. He pulled it out, stretched his arm and let it slip from his fingers. It fluttered gently as it descended into the deep. Will Thayer's revolver sank to the bottom of the Mississippi River, softly settling in the silt where it would remain for all time.

Calvin's lungs were burning and he knew he couldn't hold his breath much longer, but the panic he'd felt was gone. In its place was tranquility. As he felt himself floating up, closer and closer to the surface of the water, he knew he would make it. He knew Flynn would save him, that they'd make it out West, that they'd make a life for themselves out there and live it together until they were old and gray, that everything would work out. He couldn't explain it, but he knew.

From just inches beneath the surface of the water he stared up at the sky with a contented smile on his face. In seconds he'd be at the surface again, breathing. He saw the clouds break, a gap opening up in the storm. There, framed perfectly, was the eternal, unchanging moon. He knew that there was someone else, someone he loved looking up at it too. Thinking of him.

• -

Through tears, Flynn looked up at the moon. At the same instant he heard a strained gasp for air as a wolf's muzzle broke the surface of the water a few dozen feet away.

“Calvin!" Flynn cried. “I'm coming!"

“It's okay!" Calvin called back through heavy breaths. He could hear Flynn's overhand strokes slapping the water as the deer swiftly swam towards him. “I'm okay! I'm not afraid any more! I'm not fighting any more!"

“I love you too! I love you too!!" Flynn yelled when he got to the wolf floating serenely on his back, answering the last words Calvin spoke to him before they jumped.

Pelted by the rain, carried along by the smooth current, Calvin smiled up at the moon as Flynn wrapped his loving arms around him.

---

“It's shallow enough to touch now. We made it."

Flynn felt his hooves sink into the mud as he approached the shoreline. He'd swum nearly a mile from the center of the river, one hand gripping Calvin by the scruff of his neck and one leg searing with pain from the paddlewheel that had aggravated his bullet wound. He'd never had to swim so far for so long, especially not while towing two-hundred thirty-five pounds of floating gray wolf. But he'd made it to shore. He didn't think he had the strength left to even stand up.

“I've got you," Calvin said as he set his canine feet down into the mud. He was useless in the water, but now that he could touch the bottom of the river he could take over. He wrapped his strong arms around the exhausted deer and scooped him up, carrying him the final hundred feet in the shallow water until they made it to the riverbank.

The rain had stopped sometime during Flynn's grueling swim. The skies were mostly clear now, patchy black clouds only occasionally obscuring the full moon. Calvin's feet continued to sink into the mud as he walked away from the river, fur dripping wet, with Flynn in his arms. But then the mud turned to dirt and once again he was walking on solid ground.

Faintly they both heard a wail, like a distant banshee lamenting their escape. It was the steam whistle on Sultana, far up the river now. Calvin turned his head as he walked away from the river with Flynn in his arms and saw the steamboat, now miles away, visible for just a moment before disappearing behind the far-off bend in the river.

He'd remember that moment until his dying day – that exact moment, carrying his love in his arms as he heard the steam whistle, turning and seeing the doomed ship disappear from view with black smoke billowing from its twin smokestacks. It was the first thing he thought of when, less than two years later, he heard the news and learned the fate of the steamboat Sultana and Captain James Cass Mason.

When the war finally ended in April of 1865, thousands of captured American soldiers being held in hellish conditions in Confederate prison camps were freed. To get them home as quickly as possible, the American government hired steamboat captains to take them north, paying far above normal ticket prices for each soldier to expedite their return. For the short trip from Vicksburg to Cairo, less than four days on the water, Mason stood to make nearly ten-thousand dollars.

It was too lucrative an opportunity for Captain Mason to pass up. He bribed an army officer to take nearly two-thousand freed Union soldiers onto Sultana in Vicksburg, more than five times the maximum number of passengers Sultana was designed to hold. These men were loaded like freight onto every inch of the steamboat. In places the floors sagged under their weight.

The day before, one of the boilers aboard Sultana had sprung a leak, a fairly common occurrence on Sultana due to Captain Mason's practice of running the boilers hot at high pressures. But the damage to the boiler was more severe than first thought, and the repairs needed were more extensive.

It would take several days to perform these repairs, which would mean that Mason would miss his chance to take the soldiers on board. They'd be sent to other steamboats and he'd miss out on his huge payday. This was something he couldn't permit, no matter the cost.

As the freed prisoners of war were loaded onto Sultana, temporary and insufficient repairs were being made to the damaged boiler. Mason's plan was to have the proper repairs completed in Cairo once he dropped off his cargo and received his money. The temporary repairs only needed to hold the boiler together for a few days.

On the night of April 27th, 1865, with more than two-thousand men on board, Sultana's boilers exploded. Steam and steel ripped through and destroyed the pilot house, instantly shredding Captain James Cass Mason into hundreds of pieces of fur and flesh and bone. Chunks of him were blown across a dozen acres of the Mississippi River and eaten by catfish. No remnant of his body was ever found.

It was a better death than he deserved. The explosion destroyed a third of Sultana instantly, killing hundreds. It set the remaining portion of the ship on fire. The passengers who'd survived the initial explosion – many of whom were severely weakened from their time in the prison camps or unable to swim at all – were forced to jump overboard to escape the raging fire. In the chaos hundreds drowned, sometimes scores at a time as they clung to each other in panic and sank into the cold, muddy waters.

By the time the sun rose the next morning, Sultana had burned to the waterline and sunk, and more than a thousand men were dead. They'd been killed by James Cass Mason's greed just as surely as Calvin would have been had he and Flynn not escaped.

Calvin turned away from the water. In the moonlight he could see a dirt road in front of him running adjacent to the river. On the other side of it was a cornfield, full of tall stalks nearly ready for harvest.

Calvin crossed the road, carrying Flynn as he waded through the thick stalks of corn. He walked a few dozen yards into the field before kneeling, flattening some of the stalks and setting Flynn down. He looked over his shoulder to be confident that they were far enough away from the road that no one could see them.

“We can sleep here tonight," Calvin whispered to Flynn.

“Mm-hmm..." Flynn nodded weakly in return, his eyes closed. He was totally exhausted from his swim, already nearly asleep.

Calvin flattened a few more stalks of corn and lay down beside Flynn. He'd been awake more than two days now, vigilant and waiting for the exact moment that Mason would try to capture him. That moment that had finally occurred and they'd escaped. They'd escaped together. Now Calvin could finally rest. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.