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Paths Converge

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I made my way through the dark streets. Despite the late hour, all seemed busy around me. People strode by, talked, walked in and out of the restaurants and stores that were all around…No one took any notice of the hunched over, speed-walking man grabbing his left arm (which had begun to throb painfully) as he made his way through the streets. The student village was located in a less-prosperous part of Lester, though not to say that the area was completely run down. In fact, the only real difference between it and the rest of the city was that the buildings were closer together and the facades were not nearly as decorated, and some of them were even made completely of wood, but they still stretched multiple stories, and the streets were still of cobblestone, and well-lit with the evenly-spaced streetlamps. All in all, it was still a far, far cry from the actual slums, especially those that I was used to.

I turned into a narrow alley, following the instructions that a random passerby – who was rather confused by my sense of hurry and desperation – had given me. In all honesty, I wasn't sure why this was the first place I was heading, but I had nowhere else to go. And if I didn't find anything there...Well, then I would figure something out. But I pressed forward with determination, as if I knew exactly where everything was and was certain that all I was looking for was in order. I soon found myself upon a row of unpainted, wooden buildings that each extended roughly four stories in height. I hobbled along them in strides, wincing each time my right foot touched the ground, stretching the muscles in my leg that had been seriously bruised during Vage's savage attack. I stopped only when I saw a sign upon the door to one of the structures that read “RECEPTION" in big, bold letters. I walked inside.

It was a small room, with a wooden bench against the wall of the entrance and a window off to the right, offering a view of the street. Along the back wall was a desk, behind which a young woman sat, a bright oil lamp flickering nearby. She looked like she couldn't be older than twenty – probably a student at the university, herself. Though a small furnace glowed in the corner of the room – its crooked metal stovepipe jaggedly making its way towards the ceiling – she still wore a light-grey trench coat and gloves. She was clearly a wolf, dark-grey fur with occasional patches fading into black covering her face, with a particularly narrow snout. She had been writing something in a notebook when I entered, but as soon as she looked up and saw what must have been my frantic-looking expression, she put her pen down and gazed up at me, open mouthed.

“Oh my God, you're bleeding," she stated, staring at my face. What? I put a hand to my forehead and drew it back – the tips of my fingers were shiny with bright-red blood.

“Shit," I exclaimed, pressing my hand against my forehead as the receptionist reached under the desk and then sprang up from her chair with a roll of bandages. “Thanks," I muttered as I grabbed them from her. I began to unwind them and, with difficulty, wrap them around my head, my arm still aching as I did so. The woman merely stared back at me – I was frustrated that she didn't offer to help, but she also seemed shocked, and somewhat nervous, which was fair: I probably looked like a deranged lunatic, or a drunk at best, who for all she knew had just wounded himself in a brawl…Which, frankly, was not too far off from the truth.

“What…Do you need," she asked, as if unsure how to proceed with normal procedure given what had just occurred.

“I'm looking for…" I trailed off as a shout could be heard from a back room or hallway behind the door to the right of the desk. A moment later, it opened.

“Is everything all right out here?" A young, pasty-looking man, also likely a student, dressed very fashionably in a black vest and pants, demanded with concern. He turned to me, and suddenly his expression became horrified, open-mouthed. “Oh my God," he exclaimed, more calmly than the receptionist though still evidently worried. “Are you all right?"

“I'm fine," I assured with a wave of the hand as soon as I had yanked the ends of the bandage tight.

“Are you sure? We can call a doctor," the man offered. He had blond hair and very peculiar facial characteristics – his resting face, which I saw for a brief moment before his panic set in, made him appear stern and pessimistic simply by nature.

“I'm fine, seriously," I repeated.

“It won't cost you anything," he continued, arousing my anger. “The university medical staff get paid by the Department of Education.

“I'm looking for Larissa Rhinedale," I blurted, skipping to the point. Though I was worried that they wouldn't comply, given that I presented myself in such a frantic way; but then again, despite everything I had been through, I was pretty young – likely not more than a year or two older than the man who had just walked into the room – and could easily have passed as a student.

"Sorry?" He was clearly thrown off.

"Rhinedale, Larissa," I repeated. They both stared at me, neither individual moving. "Do they live here?"

“Um…" The woman finally opened her mouth to speak as she made her way back behind her desk, opening a ledger that she pulled from a drawer and flipping through its pages awkwardly, as if she wasn't sure that she should be doing so or not. “I can check for you…" I nodded as an awkward silence set in. The woman flipped hurriedly through her ledger, glancing up at me occasionally, while the man merely stared at me with an expression resembling something of a mix of concern and confusion. I was worried that he would stop her from searching through the ledger, not wanting to share any information with someone who had just wandered in from the street. But before that could happen, the woman stopped leafing through her ledger looked up: “Sorry, we don't have any Rhinedale's." My heart sank. I brought a hand to my face and covered my mouth while resting the other hand in the fold of my arm for a moment before letting both fall again to my side.

“Surely you must have something," I urged with a dramatic motion of my hand.

“I'm sorry, but we don't," the woman shrugged almost nervously, closing the ledger and preparing to place it back into the drawer. “If you want, you can try the-"

“Actually," the man interrupted, evidently having given the matter some thought and just now snapping back to reality. “There was a Larissa who came by when I was on shift this morning – it wouldn't be in the record yet."

“Did she pay for the room," the woman asked, opening the ledger again and picking up a pen to make note.

“She did," the man replied. “Five days, for now."

“What was her last name?" I urged, briefly startling both of them with my eagerness.

“Um," the man thought a moment. “I can't remember, but I could have sworn it started with an 'R…' Something like the one you said."

“What room is she in?"

“Uh, I don't know if…" He clearly had his hesitations about providing me with that information – I did look insane, after all.

“Mate, I've been through a lot tonight, I'm just a friend," I assured with a slow shake of the head, as calmly yet affirmatively as possible. The man swallowed.

“Well," he began. “I can't remember exactly, but I believe it was on the third floor of Building Five."

“The only room there not listed as occupied in the record is seventeen," the woman stated, once again scanning over the ledger.

“That's the one," the man confirmed with a snap and a point. They both looked to me. I nodded, my mind already eight steps ahead of where I currently was.

“Thanks," I muttered, and left.

“Are you sure you don't need to see a doctor?" The man shouted as the door closed behind me, trailing off with the last few words. I looked around, trying to fixate on the iron numbers screwed to the wooden walls of the buildings – this was Building Seven. I paced my way back along the rows of dormitory rooms, passing a group of laughing, likely-intoxicated students going in the other direction. One of them saw me and his face lit up, as if witnessing my misfortune had made his night somehow. Despite this, he didn't inform his comrades, and merely let out a loud chuckle as they continued on their way. I finally came to the plain, wooden door of Building Five, pushed inside, and was met with a long hallway dimly illuminated by many lanterns, sitting on little wooden platforms screwed into the wall at equidistant intervals. Thankfully, a staircase was directly to my right, bare of any carpeting or decoration, which nonetheless rendered finding the third floor an easy task. Surmounting the steps with difficulty, I found myself staring down another hallway that, contrary to the one on the first floor, extended down the length of the building along the front wall, with square windows to the left side, giving a view of the street. A pale glow from the streetlamps outside made its way in through the panes, lighting the way slightly as I made my way down the corridor, muttering the small iron numbers screwed to each door aloud.

“…Fourteen…Fifteen…Sixteen…" I stopped at seventeen. I hesitated. What if she was really in there? What would I say? Larissa, we have to save the Duke and end the war! Obviously not that. But, come to think of it, why did I even come here? I didn't have much time to think, however, and must have walked down the hallway with heavy footsteps, because a moment later, before I had even knocked, I heard a bolt unlatch and the door swung open. Abruptly, I was face to face with Larissa, in her light-brown sweater. She looked surprised, to say the least, her eyes widening with shock, but that soon turned to worry as she saw my condition. A sudden pain shot across my head and I groaned, hovering a hand over the bandages as my vision grew blurry. My legs actually buckled and I began to fall, but she grabbed me under the arms before my knees could hit the ground, pulling me inside over to a plain brown couch that sat along the wall of the dimly-lit room. I allowed myself to fall onto it, which I soon regretted, as my head once again shot with pain, forcing another groan.

“What happened?" Larissa exclaimed, rushing into another room for something. I opened my eyes and glanced around for a brief moment before forcing them shut again – it was a small apartment (probably only three rooms, I guessed), with wooden planks making up the walls and ceiling.

“I was defenestrated," I muttered.

“What?" She called from the other room.

“I fell out a bloody window!" I snapped, immediately regretting that I had yelled, but the pain had again spiked for some reason.

“Here," Larissa urged as she knelt next to me. I opened my eyes and saw that she was holding two small, blue tablets in the palm of her hand. “Painkillers." I grabbed them and shoved them down my throat greedily – a habitual motion, by this point – trying to sit up a little against one of the armrests of the couch. “Why aren't you with the others?"

“We had a sort of falling-out," I muttered with frustration. She didn't laugh at my snarky joke. I knew that I would feel bad for my rudeness later, but at the moment I felt incredibly annoyed at pretty much everything.

“Is anything broken?"

“I don't think so…How did you get here?"

“On the train," she replied, placing a hand under my head and lifting it slightly to examine my wound, tilting it a little. “I saw you when we got off at the border, far ahead; I even shouted, but you didn't hear me...It took hours to get through customs, but I bought private passage to here with, um, your money. The cut doesn't look too deep." She had lifted up the bandage a little and was peering at the wound. I winced. I thought back to the fact that dragonborn had supposedly only been allowed on the last car of the train, but given the fact that that hadn't been the case for us, I began to doubt how well those rules had held themselves in place. “You said you fell out a window," she asked with slight disbelief as she rushed back into the other room. I stared up at the ceiling, trying to concentrate on keeping the pain down.

“I was thrown out of the window," I corrected, once again a bit too harshly. She didn't seem to have paid any attention to it, though, as she wasn't the least bit offended as she approached me with a small brown bottle, a worried expression on her face. She lifted the bandage again and poured something onto the sound that began to burn as soon as it ran across my forehead – antiseptic. I winced. “Fucking hell that hurts," I seethed, clenching the sides of the couch with my fists. She stopped. “No, no, keep going," I urged – I didn't want it to get infected. She tilted the bottle again and sparingly poured more on. “I'm sorry I didn't see you," I stated, breathing swiftly in response to the burning sensation that was only beginning to recede.

“What happened to you?" She was clearly worried. I coughed.

“A lot has happened since we've arrived in Lester," I stated through clenched teeth, still fighting the pain that was building up again. It slowly began to subside once more. “There's going to be a murder tomorrow…" I muttered. Then I remembered. “I found your brother!" I shot up, throwing my feet to the floor and sitting up straight, which I immediately regretted, as my vision blurred and my head once again clouded with pain, forcing me to fall back against the backrest of the couch and squint my eyes.

“I know," Larissa stated. “I ran into him on the street." I opened my eyes: there were two doorways leading out of the sitting room, right next to each other. Through one was a plain, white bed in a small room, and, standing in the other, still dressed in his smart grey suit, an awkward expression on his face as if he didn't want to get wrapped up in any of this, was Ravnick.

“I was wondering where you were," he stated to me plainly, with a touch of concern.

“Oh shut up," Larissa snapped as she turned to him. What? Larissa seemed less than thrilled to have been reunited with her older sibling.

“Oh, please, let's not start this again. He's clearly been through-"

“Do you know what he did?" She turned back to me while pointing accusatively at her brother, and I could see that she was holding back tears. I was silent – I was only half aware, anyway, battling another wave of pain. All of everything was happening so fast, and I wasn't sure how to react.

“Oh, for the love of…" Ravnick rolled his eyes as he folded his arms, crossing his legs and leaning against the doorframe as he gazed out the window on the far wall. "Listen to how she puts it," he muttered.

“He spent, all his money, on his stupid science projects," she continued, her eyes tearing. What have I walked into?

“For the last time, Larissa," Ravnick began in a stern tone, uncrossing his legs and giving her an accusatory point. “Just listen to me," he begged.

“I already have," she snapped back.

"No you haven't," Ravnick insisted with frustration.

Ok, go on then," she threw her arms in the air. “Make your point."

“Goodness sakes," he muttered with frustration, shaking his head. “Frankly, I saw a golden opportunity in working for Kimberland," he began, evidently trying to alter his tone to sound more understanding. “And we made fantastic progress, but we didn't have enough funding."

“So you wasted your money on it."

“No, I invested in it."

“In exchange for our futures."

“Look- I-" He sighed, running his hand down the back of his head for a moment before continuing. “Everything I did was with you in mind," he urged, trying to make his case as desperately as possible. “All of that money, all of that time, all of that research…I did it because one day, I knew, it would pay off."

“Your sisters are close to starving in a war-torn country," Larissa, who had turned around for a few moments, seethed as she pivoted back to Ravnick. “Don't you remember when our village was ransacked?" I could tell that Larissa had struck a nerve: Ravnick's eyes flared with anger.

“Do you even remember," he shot. “Or were you too young?" He paused. Larissa was standing calmly, her arms crossed, looking to the side, trying to regain herself. “Do you remember how dad had to carry all three of you on his shoulders, as I carried every valuable possession that I possibly could in my arms, on my back, for entire kilometers? Do you remember how much trouble it was to get the medicine for him? How I had to walk, an entire day, just to purchase his medication, because we didn't have a cart, and couldn't afford one?" Ravnick eyes were tearing now, too, and several tears began to streak down the side of his face, but he didn't let that dissuade him.

“Do you know how many other people live like that; how many other people are forced out of their homes at the hands of murderers; how many other people die – every, single, day – on the front lines?" He continued. “My God, Larissa, it was never about us! There are other people," he shouted in a mocking tone. Larissa merely stood with her arms crossed and her head down, losing the battle not to sob. My pain was beginning to subside, and I felt angry at Ravnick – at both of them, actually, for some reason, but more so at him. “Other people," he repeated. “Just like you and me…And they're suffering, too."

“So what?" Larissa suddenly shot. “You think your handy-dandy little science experiment is going to end the whole war?" Ravnick was in shock – clearly extremely offended. Obviously, he thought very highly of his paleontology project.

“Larissa!" He exclaimed, waving his arms. “We have proved an evolutionary link between half of all sentient life!" It was as if he couldn't believe that someone – let alone his own sister – could doubt his work, and he spoke with almost a touch of excitement in his voice. “We have found the common ancestor!1 The implications are obvious: all organisms currently living, working, and fighting in Vaymansphere, not to mention the whole world, are biologically connected. There can be no basis for inequality, discrimination, or injustice, when that information is made public." As he shouted, he pointed to the side with each statement made, as if to some invisible accuser.

“And what? You think that's it, then? The war ends? The system changes? 'Hurray, we did it?...' You're an idiot, Ravnick – that's not how people think."

“Not the ones in power, now," he conceded, speaking rapidly. “But just think: the Northern Territories – their whole social, political, and economic system is centered around species inequality. Their states are based around a falsehood. Everything is a lie. If we can tear that falsehood down, the people will-"

“The people won't do anything!" She was really starting to cry, now, not even trying to control her loud sobs anymore. “There will be no revolution! You had three sisters and a father in Agranda, and you couldn't even do something for us?"

“Larissa, I've still been sending money – I'm sorry none of it ever got to you, but that's not my-"

“So where's the money, Ravnick?" She held out her arms. “Where's the money? How are you going to pay for Anna and Sasha to come over here? Huh? What about our education? You have the money for that, too, don't you? Oh, and where we'll stay, of course."

“I am close enough with Kimberland that he will take care of all of that, if he has to," Ravnick replied matter-of-factly.

“Because you don't have the money," Larissa let out a frustrated chuckle, shaking her head with a tortured grin, stepping towards him and staring him dead in the eyes.

“It's not about the money, Larissa, it's about what can actually be done. And I fully intended-"

“So why didn't you," Larissa shrugged, as if in disbelief.

“What?"

“Why didn't call for us to come up here, then, if it could be done?"

“I- I- I- I mean, you have to understand," Ravnick stuttered, trying to explain the web of thoughts, excuses, and explanations that clearly were jumbled together in his head before he could be cut off again. It was like watching a large body of water behind a dam being drained through a tiny little crack in the concrete – Ravnick couldn't get his thoughts out fast enough. “I didn't have any clue what was safe, what was dangerous, what would work, ok, so-"

“So what? You couldn't check?"

“I-"

“Would that have been too distracting?"

“Larissa," Ravnick began.

“Get out of here!" She pushed him, and he stumbled backwards, catching himself in the doorway, as Larissa stormed over to the bedroom and slammed the door. For a moment, all seemed to be in shock. Then it all grew still. Ravnick stood there for a few moments, in utter shock frustration , before he finally seemed to calm down a little, wiping his tears and straightening his vest as he walked calmly over to the door. I could hear Larissa still sobbing on the other side.

“Larissa," Ravnick beckoned calmly, almost apologetically, as recomposed himself and knocked softly on her door with one finger. “Larissa," he said again, repeating the knock, when there was no answer. “Larissa please." Realizing that his efforts were pointless, he sighed, putting one hand in his pocket and looking down at the floor. “I'm happy to see you," he finally stated with a sense of defeat, one hand still pressed against the door. “You can send for me any time – I'll be there for you." He sighed before walking away from the door. He now awkwardly stood in the center of the room, seeming to ruminate for a while. But then he looked up at me, acknowledging my presence for the first time since I had first seen him standing in the doorway to what I could now tell was a small dining area. He walked over to one of the two wooden chairs placed diagonally across from the couch that composed the only furniture in this room. He stared at at it for a moment before finally sitting down, hanging his head low for a few seconds before speaking. My expression was blank, but I, too, was still angry at him.

“I'll be back here tomorrow to check on her," he stated, hunched over with his elbows upon his knees. He looked up at me. “You seem to know her well, then?" I said nothing. I was both too shocked and too frustrated to reply. Ravnick seemed to get the message. He sighed. “Just…Make sure she stays safe tonight, and if you leave, just…" He trailed off, sighing again. It was clear he didn't know how to express what he wanted to say. “You know, I do care about her…And all of my siblings," he began, clearly trying to vindicate himself to me, as if hoping to claim at least one victory for the evening. I remained motionless, expressionless. “I truly do care for them," he reasserted, leaning forward with a sad look in his eyes. “And I know that I've betrayed them." He sniffled, taking a quick glance around.

“There's a myth, my friend, that one can do great things for this world and still stay true to themselves," he nodded, glancing around again as he wrung his hands together. “That is a horrible lie…In order to help the world, to make change for the future," he swallowed, “you have to burn your own." He sighed again before continuing. “You can either support the people you want to, or you can make a difference for everybody else," he stated. “And if it were up to me, every cent I ever made would have gone straight to my family." I finally sat up, leaning forward and placing my elbows upon my knees, just like Ravnick. We locked eyes and both sat silently.

“It is up to you," I finally stated. Ravnick let out a short breath and shrugged.

“Unfortunately it's not," he countered. “This is so much bigger than me, or you, or her." He nodded in the direction of Larissa's door. “I have an obligation to serve the rest of society – no one's more deserving of help than anyone else, mate."

“I feel like when it comes to your sisters, there's some discrepancy," I muttered. I could tell that he was going to speak again, so I continued before he could. “In the infantry, you lose all your friends and there's nothing you can do to stop it," I muttered frankly. “You're very good at doing that on your own." He swallowed, and his expression changed to a disapproving one.

“Sacrifice is the fuel of progress," he finally stated. I had looked down at my feet again, the soothing effect of the painkillers finally starting to weigh on me, but at this I looked up, the same blank, indifferent expression upon my face. I was sure I looked horrible: unshaven, bloody, and bandaged.

“I think you should leave," I stated, not with any firmness or hostility, but just plainly. Ravnick looked around. Sensing defeat, he sighed as he stood to his feet, grabbing his coat from a hook on the wall by the door, and turned to me as he put it on, raising his arms to get them through the sleeves.

“I asked her who you are," he said plainly, shoving his hands into his pockets after he had gotten the coat on. “She said that she met you in Austlotz…Thank you for keeping her safe." I said nothing. He put on his hat and opened the door, stepping outside in a single, sweeping motion before closing it gently behind him. For a few moments I sat in silence – no sounds came from Larissa's room. I just sat there on the couch, elbows on my knees, my hands clasped together in front of me. What the hell is going on today? This was the most surreal day of my life. I was sure it was for Larissa, too. We were both alone – no one was left on our sides anymore.

I sighed as I stood up, letting my overcoat slide off my arms and drop onto the couch before I walked over to her door. I stood there for a moment, staring at the sanded, unpainted wood that composed it, with little linear indents carved upon it for basic decoration. I was nervous. My chest felt light and I felt oddly queasy. I thought of taking my medicine, but decided against it, instead slowly raising my hand and giving a few quick, delicate taps on the door with the corner of my fist. I heard movement from inside. A few moments later, the door opened, and I stared into Larissa's eyes, watery and slightly red from crying. She stood there for only a few seconds before throwing herself on me and hugging me tightly. I hadn't expected that, but I brought my arms around her and held her tightly to me nonetheless. We stood there for some time, and I could feel her breathing, her middle-body expanding and contracting with each inhale and exhale. She was calmer now, breathing steadily. We were like that for what seemed like an eternity.

“I'm sorry," she finally muttered without breaking away, though of what she could be apologizing for I wasn't sure – perhaps leaving me injured on the couch? Then it occurred to me that, frankly, I had arrived in the middle of their argument, late at night, and she still had immediately abandoned everything to help me, even as her own brother had admitted to essentially betraying her. I lifted my head from her shoulder, and she did the same – we stared at each other for a moment. Her green eyes were glistening with something of a mix of acceptance and confusion.

“I'm glad you're safe," I stated, my own eyes watering a little. We hugged again for another long moment, and I felt her hands pressed firmly against my back as I wrapped mine around her sides, and when we pulled away once more, I suggested that she rest.

“I don't know what's going on," she sighed as we walked over to her bed and sat down – it was a plain, medium-sized bed with white sheets, bigger than the one she had been provided with in Austlotz, at least. A small coal stove burned in the room, filling it with heat. My arm was around her side, and I held her hand in my lap with the other.

“A lot of shit has happened today," I stated with a slight, tortured chuckle, shaking my head in ironic disbelief. I felt like the whole world was crumbling down around me, but physically, because of the pain killers, I felt good. “I was literally thrown out of a window," I muttered, as if in a daze. I heard her chuckle quietly, and squeezed her closer, feeling her arms wrap more tightly around me. She looked up, at me with grateful eyes, still watery and slightly red, but glad that I was there. I noticed that I was breathing deeply. We stared at each other for a few lingering moments, not breaking eye contact. She eventually turned, facing the wall and allowing her head to rest on my shoulder. I calmly stroked the side of her snout, sitting in complete silence, the sound of her heavy, calm breathing filling the entire room. I felt a wave of affection wash over me, and I leaned into her as much as I could. She just sat there, staring, silent…

After a few seconds, she sat up, and slowly adjusted herself on the bed, turning and lifting one of her legs up so that she was sitting facing me rather than merely sitting next to me. I put my other arm around her, not diverting my gaze from hers, and she slowly brought her hand up to my head, running her dull claws lightly across it and through my hair, just over my ear – my scalp tingled. We leaned in at the same time, kissing in the same odd, awkward way that we had before, her tongue in my mouth, my face practically half inside hers.

We fell backward onto the bed, as we began to run our hands more aggressively and passionately against the backs of each other's heads and necks. I was breathing a lot faster – so was she. I rolled my head back as she pushed hers forward, running a hand down my waist. I suddenly broke into a wide grin – I couldn't help it. My legs were moving, rubbing up and down against hers. We started vigorously caressing one another. We turned, and I was swung upright onto my knees so that I was now on top of her. I could feel her tail moving around in sudden sweeps from side to side between my legs, and she wrapped her legs around the backs of my knees as best she could. We continued to vigorously make out and fondle one another for a few more moments until I pulled back, breathing heavily. I almost felt dizzy – I was nearly hyperventilating. We gazed into each other's eyes, and any vestiges of my earlier wide grin faded. Wow, I thought. I let out a groan admitting something between relief and disbelief. She pulled me back in, and we caressed one another for a few moments more before I pulled up again, and we stared at each other for even longer.

My heart was racing, my breath was fast, even as I tried my best to slow it and breathe calmly. I already felt my erection pressed firmly against my pants – I ran my hands across the side of her face, eager for the slightest form of stimulation. She looked straight into my eyes, breathing heavily, her mouth slightly open. So was mine. I could almost see my reflection in her wide, green eyes. My eyes started to tear. We both knew what was about to happen. I licked my lips, noticing that my mouth was dry.

“You don't have to do this," I stated in an almost-shaky voice.

“Shut up, soldier," she said as she pulled me back down. I felt a wave of passion wash over me. She started working at the buttons of my thick winter shirt. I crossed my arms and grabbed either side of the bottom of her sweater, straining to pull it up over her head and arms. She finally conceded, letting go of my shirt and lifting up her arms so that I could slide her sweater right off. I slid my hands under her and lifted her off the bed slightly as she continued to unbutton my shirt as we made out, finally yanking it off at the last button. I threw my arms back, but instead of tearing it off of me, she ran her hands along my bare arms, pushing the insides of the sleeves down as she went. As soon as it was off, I pressed myself against her bare chest as she grabbed the discarded piece of clothing from my back and threw it to the floor, her smooth scales pressed against my skin. She caressed my back for a while, running her claws gently across it as we continued making out. I slowly made my way down the side of her neck with my lips as she reached below my waist, grabbing my left backside firmly with her hand. She retracted her foot slowly and suddenly stuck one of her claws between my pants and my skin.

“Oh," I moaned, racing to undo my belt as she already began to apply force with her foot. My pants and underwear slid off easily, and fell to my knees. Aside from my socks, I was now completely naked on the bed. I kept my gaze fixed on her as she undressed me, and when she looked up at me, I could see that she was now grinning a little. She twisted her tongue in her mouth as she grabbed it firmly, without warning. I let out a grunt, and, sitting a little higher, tried to get her mud-colored pants off. I was having difficulty, so she helped me out a little, pushing her pants down with her hand, continuing to work on my genitalia with the other one. I pushed her pants off the rest of the way with my foot: they mad a thud when they hit the floor. I looked back down at her: she was staring directly up at me. She had let go. Her hands were around my back again. I knew what had to happen now. I pursed my lips. I let myself drop.

There was the signature warm, moist feeling that I had long been familiar with, only this time something just felt…Different. It felt better. She gasped, but I shoved my face into hers and we continued making out as the bed began to creak to life with the motions of intercourse. Not a word was said – Larissa continued to gasp, and we both let out a moan or two, but aside from this, we were surprisingly silent. We just breathed heavily, looks of strain and passion upon both of our faces. It was fast – it wasn't hard, for either of us, evidently. I pulled my head back towards the end, looking into her eyes as…

Damn, that felt good.2 I finally stopped, kicking my pants the rest of the way off before relaxing my legs and collapsing on top of her, relaxed, though I continued to extend my arms against the bed, gazing down at her as my eyes started to water. I actually shed a few tears. Her eyes glistened, too, and as we calmed down, as our breathing slowed, as I realized that I was overheated, I finally voiced another realization.

“I like you a lot," I muttered. She laughed.

“Well duh," she grinned, stroking the side of my head. “That much was obvious." I was embarrassed for making such a stupid remark. “I like you too," she suddenly replied. At least we were even.

“Adrik Poletyev," I stated as I fell to the side, forcing her to turn with me so that we were both lying on our sides, facing each other.

“What?"

“That's my actual name – I'm not Tovef Halfe," I stated. “I'm Adrik Poletyev." She looked as if she wanted to ask why that was the case, but dismissed the concern, instead sliding an arm under me and pulling me closer. Another wave of ecstatic passion overtook me. My chest felt warm, and a tingling sensation spread all the way to my arms. I hugged her back. My mind was heavy with burden for the day to come, but in the moment, I was happy – I was actually happy. I suddenly smiled with delight. How was it that I was experiencing this? I didn't care. I didn't care about anything – in the good sort of way.

Footnotes:

1. By "common ancestor," of course, Ravnick is referring to a creature whose position on the evolutionary timeline, as well as its relation to the species both preceding and following it, is located at a vital junction. A good example of this would be the now-extinct tiktaalik, which (while certainly often debated) is usually referred to as being closely related to the ancestor of most if not all tetrapods (and thus, essentially, most four-legged land vertebrates), indicating that they all diverged from a specific point on the evolutionary timeline, and therefore are also all loosely genetically related.

2. This concludes the first time I have ever composed any sort of scene of this nature, whether in furry fiction or any other genre. Of course, there are frequent references to and notes made of this type of natural behavior in my other writing, but this is frankly the first time I have ever gone into explicit detail regarding it. I have reread and rewritten this scene several times by now and I honestly can't seem to perfect it. In any case, this was the best one, in my opinion, so I'll call it a good first attempt and hope that it's at least adequate.