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Nevermore: Neither Here Nor There (Haru & Mally)

Joined
Jan 9, 2009
Location
On my knees, in between his legs.
“The hope for your daughter’s recovery is very slim. With the way that the crash had been, the car hit her side and she took the brunt of it. It saved your son’s life but unfortunately…” The sounds of silent weeping above all the other silence was disconcerting. The doctor cleared his throat and continued on.

“We can keep her on life support, that while the recovery is slim, the healing process is still possible. She was brought in immediately which saved her from dying and it allowed us to stabilize her and get her in for treatment. We can do everything we can for and keep her comfortable but it’s her brain that we need to worry about most. There is severe swelling that we have gotten control of to reduce it. After that, the rest will be up to her. After that, if she starts to take a turn for the worse, well like I said, we can keep her comfortable but we will just need your word to…to…” He cleared his throat and watched her mother start to cry harder. Because if there was no turn around, the inevitable was something he always hated telling patients or their families. Hospice.

Emory Martinique was nineteen years old, ventured into her first year in college, majoring in computer science and English literature and had a lot of things going for her, despite her awkward nature and her lack of social skills. Until the night of her brother’s high school football game. It was a great game and he was the quarterback on the varsity team and he was only a junior. Right after the game, the plan was to go to dinner with their parents and then she’d drop him off at his friend’s house for a party. He’d find his own way back home, he always did. And he never complained because he knew how important these family dinners were. Especially when this one was to celebrate their victory at the football game.

It was on the way to the restaurant, Emory behind the wheel, that a truck struck her car on the driver’s side. Her brother got away from the accident with just a bump on his head and some bruises, along with a broken arm. Emory on the other hand was in the hospital bed on life support. They all thought she was fighting for her life but she wasn’t. Not really. No, she was kind of somewhere else. Sure, physically she was in the hospital bed and really seriously injured. It was like she had an out of body experience. That when the accident happened, she separated from her body and went somewhere else. She didn’t know what happened to her. She didn’t know she was on the cusp of death. As far as Emory was concerned, she was fine. She just went to a different place. A different place not of this Earth or this realm in fact. It was an entirely different realm altogether. She was neither here nor there.

Nevermore. At least that’s what the broken sign said as she stood amongst this vast green hilltop, overlooking this new land. No tall buildings, no cars, just green, old structured buildings dotting along the horizon and the sun was large but not imposing or beaming its heat rays so painfully. The wind was crisp, the air was far less polluted and her allergies disappeared as if they never existed. Her long dark brown hair lightly blew with the wind and with a shaky finger, she pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.
“Whoa. I am definitely not in New York anymore.”

The last thing she remembered was driving to the restaurant with her brother. After that, everything else was a blur and all of a sudden she came here. She was still dressed in her clothes from earlier; skinny jeans ripped at the knees with beaten up converse on her feet. She had on a graphic tee with a portrait of zombie lovers on it and wore her gray hoodie over it.

Emory felt confusion, this sort of odd disorientation of where she was. She felt highly discombobulated and her head was throbbing, she didn’t even know why. It was like she was right out of a video game, some sort of weird medieval setting which made no sense to her since the year was 2016, not the early 1000s.

To her right, she saw a trail that led down the green hilltop and she started to walk it slowly, not looking where she was stepping, only focused on getting closer to the village she saw. The path she walked went straight toward the village and she was getting closer too.

“Get off the road!” Looking behind her, she saw horses thundering closer to her pulling a carriage along with a man commandeering it. He had a whip in hand to drive the horses faster and he was the one that roared at her. “Get off the road!” He bellowed again, clearly not stopping. At the last minute, Emory jumped out of the way and landed in the dirty and grass, dirtying her clothes up a bit too. The horses and carriage whizzed right by her but other than that, and thankfully too, the man hadn’t even taken notice or stock of her.

Standing, she dusted herself off when another carriage rolled by. One of the wheels hit a wet patch in the dirt trail and a splash of mud splattered onto her. She groaned in dismay and then moved onto the trail. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” She hollered.

Big mistake. The carriage stopped and the man jumped off and looked at her, a mean glare on his face. He wore an eyepatch over his left eye, had a long beard and instantly took out a knife.
“Witch.” He seethed. “How dare you!” He started to charge at her and Emory gulped. She turned and started running, going back up the hill. He didn’t pursue her any longer, just screamed some foul choice words at her before going about his business she had disrupted him from. Emory decided to stay on the hill. It was safer.

But word soon traveled quick of a strange wanderer. The people started to call her a ‘witch’ because she was so out of place. But they were wary of her and she hadn’t even fully arrived yet.
 
Straton sat at the bar in the Drunken Goat, nursing his honeyed mead as he at the meal of roasted pork. The man kept to himself and the silvery tattoos that covered his right arm brought a few whispers. Starton ignored them. He was used to such things by now. The markings branded him in a way, as an animorph - a man able to assume the form of a beast, yet not regressing to mere base instinct and keeping his intellect and often their powers of speech. They were viewed in both fear and awe, for any animorph was more than a match for several human men. It was rumored that they drank the blood of men to keep from going feral, reverting to pure beast. It was hogwash of course, but the legends persisted. Besides his gear and his weapons, Straton's prized possession was a crystal amulet - the crystal of the purest blue. It had been given to him by his mother. She was long dead now, but he had fond memories of her. She'd been an animorph as well, and as was their custom he'd never known his father. So of course Straton and his mother had been close. Until the Hunters showed up. Despite having been given all the rights of normal men, since the rule of King Wassom of Errion, animorphs were still sometimes hunted and harvested. His mother had been a victim of such a thing, and Straton had never forgotten. Perhaps he should have sought out the Riders, the men appointed by the King to uphold the laws. But he hadn't. Instead he'd memorized their faces, their scents, from his hiding place beneath the floorboards. He'd never forget them. He'd have his vengeance.

Popping another piece of meat into his mouth he only quirked a brow under his dark bangs as one of the local men came in spouting something about a strangely dressed witch. The more and more he'd heard about this in the day or so he'd been here in Bladecreast, Straton had tried to ignore it and yet his curiosity was piqued. He knew what it was like to be persecuted and looked down upon, and his heart went out to this "witch". In all of Nevermore there were hardly any beings feared more than the animorphs. Witches fell into that category.

----------​

The Lands of Nevermore, founded and discovered eons ago, though by whom was lost in obscurity. Nobody cared any more. Nevermore simply was. Of course, everyone in Nevermore knew that other places, other worlds, existed. It would be foolish to think that Nevermore was the only place that existed in the vast universe. Now and then, travelers from other places would find themselves in Nevermore, and though it was rare for them to stay, it was even more rare for them to survive. Nevermore was a place fraught with danger, and most people from these other worlds did not adapt very well. The talk of a woman in strange clothes and the eagerness of those in Bladecrest to brand her as a witch... Straton was becoming more positive that she was one of these uniue but strange travelers. If that was the case, then he needed to get to her before the cityfolk decided to go and hunter her down.

Like hs mother had been.

Straton had come to Bladecrest from the south, from the Forest of Wind. The caravan he'd been travelign with had made it here safely to Bladecrest, he'd been paid, and all of the guards, like himself, had gone their separate ways. It had been an easy gig, but it had also filled his pouch with coin. Wiping his hands on his pants he stood and gathered his things, taking one last pull on his mug before leaving behind the silver coin and heading out onto the streets of Bladecrest. Now, those he'd heard idly talkign about the witch hd said she was staying outside the city, which of course only raised their suspicion. Who would brave the wilds over the safety of the city walls? Surely she must be in league with dark powers.

Stopping at a vendor on the way out of the city, Straton bought a heavy traveling cloak and slipped it on before moving outside of the city walls. They'd close the gates at dusk, but he hoped to be back before then.

----------​

The terrain outside of the city was easily traversible and Straton made good time. Scanning the surroundings, shielding his eyes from the sun, he focused his vision as he looked around. Lifting his nose to the air he breathed deep, nostrils flaring a bit as he searched for any strange scents and there, just a trace of one. With a satisfied smirk Straton followed the smell - a strange combination of some sort of flower and an underlying hint of female. Smelled human to him. Small trees and shrubs dotted the landscape, making for easy cover, though not terribly protective once night settled. He knew he'd have to find her soon.

Telltale sounds told him he was close, since for all her attempts to hide, she wasn't able to cover her scent, and he caught sight of some strange movement. Calling out Straton's hand strayed down and slightly behind him to the hilt of his sword. "Come on out girl. I won't hurt you. My name is Straton. Straton Skarsgaard. We need to get you to the city not far from here. Bladecrest. It won't be safe to have you stay out here after dark. Come with me and I'll get you food and a warm place to sleep."

Waiting for a few moments Straton hoped she would answer.
 
There were trees dotted along the hilltop that allowed her to stay hidden. She sat behind one, her knees hugged to her chest and her back away from the exit of the forest. But as the light of the sun began to descend behind the mountains, the entire area was blanketed in darkness. That forest looked a lot more menacing than it did in the light. Eerie sounds filled her ears and she had to cover them so she wouldn’t feel frightened. Emory was getting the feeling that being here in the forest at night was not exactly the safest decision. But something told her that being in the village wouldn’t be safe either. She wasn’t sure, but her gut told her so and she was one to never really go against her gut.

All of a sudden, the sound of some kind of footsteps on the terrain and the soft whisper of shifting grass caught her attention. Someone was coming. She sat up and moved onto her knees, staying hidden behind the large trunk of the tree and very slightly peered out from behind it. It wasn’t overly dark, more like a rich blue coloring the sky and the stars were just starting to come out and sprinkle their natural light upon the world. The moon was the real natural beam of light that made it so this figure was not completely obscured in darkness. She could see him and something about him glowed. That didn’t make her less scared. It made her hide back behind the trunk and her heart began to pound. Someone was there to probably eliminate her. That maniac who got her all dirty in the streets probably told people about her. Or maybe it was all in her head. After all, someone wearing a zombie romance graphic tee, jeans and nothing at all of this time wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb, right?

Wrong. And this person knew she was there. He even spoke up. How many countless movies had she seen where some stranger, under the pretense of being kind, would lure an innocent away in the guise of being helpful, offering food, shelter and comfort all just to trick them and kill them in the end?! Too many movies. And that was when she had to remember that they were movies. That while they did hold some factual evidence, it didn’t always happen like that. Swallowing hard, Emory had to have some kind of hope that she wasn’t about to willingly step into her death sentence. She was hungry, staying in these woods seemed a lot scarier than what threat this person could pose to her. And if she didn’t go with him now, she’d die anyways from starvation and likely being mauled to death by some wild animal.

The howl of a creature that seemed rather close pushed off of her knees and onto her feet. She practically scurried out from behind the tree and right into the man who had addressed her. “You can take me anywhere so long as it is not in there. I think it wants to eat me.” She kept looking back too, in case whatever was in those woods was going to actually get her at any moment. “And so long as you do not take me somewhere to kill me. I will go willingly and quietly.” Well…she’d try to be quiet. Though she was awkward and not the most social of people, she had two nervous habits; biting her nails and talking non-stop.
 
Straton heard the howl and knew that the beast that it belonged to was not far off. About to speak again, Straton was not surprised in the least when the girl came scurrying out from behind a nearby tree. She was dressed very oddly, and yet he could tell immediately that she was frightened. Straton's heart melted a little at the sight of her. A strapping young animorph, Straton stood several inches over six feet in height and was solidly built. His metabolism burned fast and hot, and like so many of his kind his skin stayed hot nearly all year round. Again the howl sounded, closer this time, and Straton took a closer look at the girl. Spectacles were not unheard of, and yet not many wore them. They were known and worn mostly by sages and those learned in arcane lore. The cloak he had just bought had not been for his benefit, and Straton shrugged off the garment and wrapped it about the girl.

"Here, put this on, girl. Your presence has already raised the suspicion of those in the city and we need to keep you hidden. Pull that hood up too and hide your face. Those spectacles you wear will bring attention. That cloak now smells like me, so keep it on. We'll get back into the city under the guise that you are my bedmate for the night." he said. He expected there to be some protest on that front and he wasted little time in grabbing her hand however, and pulling her along. "Kill you? Why would I kill you girl? You have naught to fear from me, despite what anyone in Bladecrest might tell you." he told her, clasping her hand in a firm but gentle grip. The spectacles bothered him. "Are you a follower of SATAN?" he asked, assuming she would know what he was talking about.

By now the gates and walls of the city could be seen, the dots of lights along avenues and streets where candles sputtered in windows. The howl sounded again, even closer this time, and Straton cursed under his breath. "There's the gate, make for the city. I'll be right behind you." he told her, and stopped, pulling the sword that was on his back. The blade was large, almost as tall as Straton himself, but he wielded it with ease. Then, back behind them, a baleful figure emerged from the copse of trees where the girl had been hiding. The thing seemed to leak darkness, and Straton growled, soft and low. "Go girl! Run!" he hissed, taking a defensive stance as the beast proceeded, undeterred by the man in its path.
 
For a moment, Emory was a bit standoffish as he placed the cloak around her shoulders but when nothing nefarious derived from that simple gesture, she relaxed. He truly did mean her no harm. He wanted to help her and for that, she could place a bit of trust in him unless he showed otherwise. But something told her that he truly would not hurt her. And that was honestly enough for her to place her life in his hands to protect.

After all, he confirmed what she feared. Suspicion about her presence was already raised, people were aware of her and she did stand out like a sore thumb in contrast to the locals. Her hand came up to touch her glasses and she pursed her lips. She wasn’t blind without them but it did make seeing a bit more difficult. She would have to take them off but nothing she couldn’t strain to see. If it meant putting a stop to suspicion about her then it would have to be done.

The notion of being his bedmate for the night made her eyebrows climb to her hairline, her eyes widen and a look of protest crossed her features. “Bedmate? If that is the price you require to protect me, then I suppose I will just have to fend for myself, won’t I?” It wasn’t a sneer but it was clear that it was not an option to give up her body to him. No, he would have to require a different price. Her virtue was not his to take, neither was it up for discussion or negotiation to acquire as payment. “But very well…” She conceded. “I can accept that disguise. But I want you to understand that it is not true and not at all, as you all might say, bloody likely.” It sounded funny, saying those kinds of words that would sound better with a British or European accent, rather than her American one. But it did seem very appropriate to say nonetheless.

“I’m not a follower of Satan.” Though perhaps they were in the same universe if Satan was universally known even in these lands that seemed a far stretch from Earth as it is. Especially if they still lived in Medieval times. It gave the Amish a run for their money. “We can talk about this later. You’re right. We need to go.” There was that howl again and it was a lot closer, closer than originally. The ground shook as it approached and she looked back at the forest, seeing a dark figure, glowing a bit in the night, approaching fast. It didn’t take much of this man’s prodding and insistent to make Emory go. She took off and as she reached the bottom of the hill, she looked back. Emory hoped this man would come back to her. If he was truly speaking honestly, then she’d need him.

Emory kept running but in the distance, she could hear the loud and rumbling roar of the creature that he was fighting. It hurt her ears to hear it, thinking the worst would not help her one bit. She had to stay positive. And as she reached the gates of the city, she made it just before they would close. She swiped her glasses from her face, tucking it into the pocket of her jacket and pulled the cloak closed around her body, hiding her outfit from view. That cloak engulfed her completely and with her complexion, gave her the appearance of someone that belonged.
“My master will be along shortly. Please, don’t close the gates until he has passed through.”

The guards at the gate looked at her with a suspicious gaze but they didn’t question her, thankfully. They only nodded but one reiterated, “The gate close when they should. But should a soul still remain, we will hold out for him for a little moment longer. But it will put us in grave peril if we shall. Get inside and wait.” He gestured to her and she moved in quickly, remaining near the entrance of the gates from inside to wait for him.

There was the howl again, but this time, it sounded pained. The guards at the gate drew their swords, hefty weapons but wielded with ease from practice and great strength. They were prepared. Just in case.
 
Straton had chuckled. "It's just a disguise girl, a cover story. Besides, if anyone sees under that cloak to what you're wearing, then it's all for nothing. Those people are liable to burn you alive or hang you. If you're lucky. Vivisection is more likely." he had told her, his gaze serious. "You only have to stomach it while we're in the city. Maybe hang on my arm in the right circumstance." he had told her. Though now those words echoed hollowly if he was not able to return.

----------​

Straton had little choice but to confront the hellbeast. They were not known for their intelligence, instead relying on instinct. Or command. They were powerful though, and he bared his teeth, snarling as he invoked his change, fur sprouting along limbs as bone and muscle shifted and grew. Internal organs changed and shifted as well, perceptions already more than human sharpened even further. In mere moments Straton had changed, the blade that had been so large before seeming much more fitting for his size now, and the hellbeast paused. It had raised its head as he'd changed, sensing something in the air, and it circled now, the girl forgotten.

The hellbeast didn't rattle Straton. He could handle it. Even two. Much more than that and things might be different, though what concerned him was that they hardly ever wandered this close to the cities. The villages and smaller towns perhaps. Snag a cow or two, maybe a stray dog. But this close to Bladecrest raised questions, and most assuredly the beast was on a leash. Not waiting for it to close he leapt, sword flashing dully under the light of the burgeoning moon, and the blade landed true, driving deep through the carapace of the beast, which howled in pain and fury, shaking violently. It managed to dislodge Straton and the shifted animorph wrenched the blade free, ichor dripping from the beast, the ground smoking and hissing where the blood fell, grass dying.

The enchanted blad Straton wielded was immune to such effect, the blood dripping from the blade without marking the metal, though still had the same effect as it hit the ground. Normal swords would melt under the abuse - another reason the beasts were so dangerous. Best to attack from a distance, though good luck getting an arrow to penetrate that armor. Drawing the shorter sword at the small of his back Straton charged the hellbeast, and steel drew sparks along its flank, failing to penetrate, though the beast whirled quickly, tail snapping out and trying to flay open Straton's flesh. The animorph saw the strike, dancing back from the blow and in retaliation thrust the smaller sword into the face of the beast, impaling it through one of its 'eyes', the sensory organs it used to see and smell with.

A shriek of pain this time, and it was cut short as Straton twisted the blade and the beast fell, the constant smoke it emitted slowly dying as the literal fire in it was quenched, pouring out through that pierced opening. Straton withdrew his blade, wiping off the blood on the grass and sheathing his large sword to use the smaller to slice opn the beast and cut out its heart. The heart of a hellbeast would fetch him a pretty penny, and no use letting it go to waste. Now that the fire within had been quenched it could be handled like any other animal, and Straton was soon trotting back down the hill and toward the city. Though in the heat of things, and in his haste to be rejoined with the girl lest any harm come to her, he'd neglected to change back and showed up at the gate in his alternate form.

Standing at the gate Straton looked up at those on the parapets and they recognized him, opening the gates to let him in. Casting his gaze about for the girl, Straton spotted her and moved to her. "I told you I would come back for you." he told her. The close to eight foot tall feline figure held Straton's voice, and wore his bright blue pendant, though had physically changed.
 
It was only a disguise. A cover story. If they saw what she wore underneath his cloak, they’d burn her alive or hang her. Vivisection didn’t sound so good, not by comparison to being burned alive or hanged. Those seemed better than to be opened up so these far off fanatics could experiment on her and see what her secrets were. No, the worst she’d have to do would be to hold onto his arm in public while she was in this city. She could do that if it meant staying alive.

That’s what she kept telling herself as she waited within the city walls for this man to come back. Her gut and instinct told her it was okay to trust him. After all, he did send her off before she could have likely been eaten by whatever foul creature lurked in the forest. If he was truly evil, he would have likely left her there to die while he went off and saved himself. No, here she was and safe to boot. He would be back for her. He would survive and he wouldn’t leave her at the mercy of these people. Because if he didn’t make it back, Em doubted that she’d survive without him. She knew how to remain hidden and disguised in her video games, but this wasn’t a video game. This was real life. At least she was pretty sure it was real life.

That howl came and it was pained. Hopefully a sign of whatever creature that had threatened to attack dying. Swallowing hard Em waited, staring out hopefully into the darkness. Without her glasses, she couldn’t see that well but she could make out some things just fine, though distance wasn’t her friend. But all of a sudden, she a dark shadow looming and it was getting closer. It was also bigger than any human form and out of fear, Emory stepped back a few paces. All of a sudden, that large dark figure walked right inside of the city. No one else seemed to be reacting much to him but she was. Her eyes widened with fear and she fell back, tripping over a loose cobblestone tile, landing on her bottom. Her hood came down and she quickly closed the cloak around her front so what she wore wasn’t noticeable to anyone. But her eyes didn’t come the sight of this large tiger that wasn’t even on all fours. It was on its hind legs, standing like a human would.

It looked right at her too and then talked to her, confirming its male sex and affirming that he definitely stayed true to his word that he would come back for her. Standing slowly, she gulped and stepped toward him slightly. “Y-You…Y-You…” She blinked her eyes and then fell faint, her head hurting a lot more than it should have for being dizzy. Emory fell back to the ground but this time, it wasn’t because she tripped. It was because she actually fainted.

”Her vitals are plummeting. We need to stabilize her!” The doctor moved quickly but the nurse was faster, picking up a syringe and filling it with a stabilizing serum to be injected into her. The doctor took the syringe and once the nurse wrapped a tourniquet around her arm, he injected the needle right into her blood stream so it would work fast. Within a few short seconds, her vitals returned to normal and she was stable.

“She’s no longer hemorrhaging. That was a close call.” The doctor said. “I want her monitored by another nurse. Something is happening. If she keeps hemorrhaging like this, she will be left brain dead. I need to figure out why this is happening. It’s like her mind is…somewhere else. And whatever is happening, it directly impacts her here.”
 
The reflexes of Straton were what saved her from hitting the ground too hard. The girl's body went limp and she started to lean and the tiger managed to grab her, cushioning her tumble. The feline head dipped close, and he could hear her heartbeat, strong and sure, and her breathing was steady. She'd merely fainted. By now the gates had been close and Straton gave a nod to the guardsmen, who were alert and a bit aloof. With a small bit of willpower and concentration Straton shifted back. The transformation back to human was more painful, as large internal organs shrank, contracting in fits of pain as his torson compressed. Exapanding into a larger torso was easy by comparison, and Straton winced and grunted in pain, the girl still cradled in his arms. He wasn't letting her go nor out of his sight. The animorph had no idea what these people might do to her if he left her unattended. With his skin steaming from the transformation, which expended large amounts of energy, Straton felt suddenly weak and knew he had to get back to the room he'd paid for.

Back to the Drunken Goat he went, his clothes disheveled but intact, as was always the case when he shifted, and he entered the place with the slip of a girl in his arms. hardly a look was cast his way, which was just how he wanted it, and the key for his room was still in his pocket. The people of Bladecrest knew him well enough and he trudged up the stairs, stopping just long enough at the var to say that he'd like two meals delivered to his room, healthy servings of the evening special. The room was a decently appointed affair, with a large bed, and a chest of drawers. An adjoining washroom, shared by another room, though it happened to be vacant at the moment. That was a stroke of luck really, and Straton laid the girl gently in the bed before going to the washroom and getting a cloth to soak with warm water. Wringing it out in the sink he brought it back to the room to lay across the girl's forehead, using one corner to wipe her face. She was really quite lovely, but her clothing was strange. They could rectify that on the morrow though, after she woke up. Right now he didn't even know her name.

Gently patting her cheek he tried to rouse her. "Wake up girl. C'mon. You're ok. You're not hurt. Wake up." he said, not quite slapping her, but definitely shaking her. A creak outside the door and then a knock had him looking that way and he opened it a crack to see Josie standing there, the buxom serving girl that had waited on him earlier. She'd expressed a bit of interest, quite curious about the animorph, and as he opened the door to let her in, her smile faded a bit at the sight of the girl on the bed. "I could have kept you company tonight, you know." she said with a pout.

Straton smiled. "I know you could have Josie. Maybe next time, ok?" he said, and leaned in to kiss her softly, hoping to appease her.

"I'll hold you to that handsome." she said and unabashedly gave his crotch a squeeze before she took her leave.

Straton shut the door and barred it this time. The meals she had brought, and knowing they were for him, were piled high with roasted pork and vegetables, rye bread and a large pitcher of stout. Good, he'd need it, but he needed to get this girl awake before he would feel comfortable eating. Going back to her he tried to rouse her again, sitting on the bed beside her.
 
There was a part of that hoped that when she’d wake up, she’d be back home, awake from this nightmare of a place. Instead, as her eyes began to flutter open, the sound of a baritone male voice permeated her hearing, her vision focused and she saw the man from before. Only she wasn’t back home. No, she was still in this foreign place where her first and immediate impression upon arrival was the danger that lurked, the danger that almost got her because apparently this place was filled with horrible creatures of some kind of dark and sinful force and the man who told her to run who apparently could turn into a giant, hulking tiger?! It was like she was stuck in one of her RPGs or some video game, only this world was a lot more real and she couldn’t even update her game avatar to a more suitable appearance that blended in this kind of society and environment. If she could, she’d want to be an Elf. Elves were always so cool.

Sitting up quickly, Em pushed herself a little bit away from this man and nearly toppled right off the bed in the process. Instead, she just sort of slid off of it, catching herself from rolling off and slid herself further away. Apparently she was still in a bit of a shock and her brain was spinning in its attempt to process. Along with that, she felt like she had an even bigger headache than before. “Y-You…” She gulped, lifting her shaky hand to heinously point his way, further stating the blaringly obvious notion of her point that it was him. And not the wall. “Y-You were a tiger.” She even used her hands to demonstrate just how big he had been in that form. And the way she knew it was him was by the necklace he wore. Something told her it was a rare and one of a kind relic that only he’d have. And he had it around his neck even when he was in tiger form. “A big tiger.” If there was someone to get the aware for stating the painfully obvious fact, it would be Emory Martinique.

Clearing her throat, she looked away from him, her hands falling in her lap and she saw the spread of food. Moving to stand, she walked over to it and it all looked so good. Her stomach even growled and she pressed her palm to it, her fingers splayed. “Food.” She said it as if she was in some kind of odd trance. But really, she was still sort of processing the information Without even really asking—she assumed that she was allowed to eat because there were plates and portions for two—she snagged a piece of bread and bit into it.

Her eyes closed in satisfaction of the taste of freshly baked bread. It was different than what was available back home; highly mass produced, probably with all kinds of growth hormones and fake flavors of what bread really and truly should be, certainly nothing like this kind of bread. No, this was real food. Even she would be the first to admit that. Emory finished the slice pretty quickly and then picked up one of the goblets that was filled with either water or some drink. She drank a good portion of it and therefore learned that it was not water at all but some kind of dank ale or cheaply crafted brew. Either way though, it took care of the dryness she felt in her throat and it allowed her to think properly a bit better.

Unable to loom any further in the silence that hung over them both, she finally turned to the man and crossed her arms over her chest. Realizing that her vision was still a bit foggy, she pulled her glasses from out of her pocket, thankful that they weren’t damaged and slid them back onto her face, pushing the middle ridge up the bridge of her nose. There, she could see him perfectly clearly now and in this light, she was able to see him better too. It was then she noticed just how handsome he was.


More silence, especially as she admired his appearance. A man like this from her time would be considered like a celebrity. Chiseled and sculpted perfectly and likely a model or a leading man in some movie about when a guy met a girl and the rest was history. Honestly, they needed to come up with better stuff. Although every time they turn a video game into a movie, they ruin it horribly. So really, there was no winning. Before her gaze could travel down any further, she swallowed and quickly brought it back up to his face where she decided it would be safer to stay and not stray again.

“So…what are you then? A were-tiger? An anamorph? A…A—“ She cut herself off and then shook her head lightly. No, that wasn’t the way to start this now, was it? “I mean…thank you.” She said softly, suddenly remembering her manners. “For warning me enough to leave. For giving me your cloak to keep me hidden and away from prosecuting eyes. And for bringing me here.” She motioned with her hand around the room he had brought her into her. “I owe you. Though I don’t know how I will pay you back, I want you to know that I am extremely grateful, Sir Tiger.” She bit down on her lower lip, a cute habit of hers when she was slightly nervous and at a loss for nervous chatter.
 
Straton wasn't surprised at her surprise, nor her fear, and as she stammered out her words he merely smiled gently. "You're right. The tiger was me. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. The hellbeast had to be put down, wandering too close to Bladecrest." he said, as if that somehow explained everything. When Em grabbed the food and began to eat there was a sense of relief that washed over him, and Straton would nod. "I'm an animorph, yes. Though I can only transform into the tiger that you saw. I was born with that ability, and not infected as a lycan might be. I can change at any time I choose and am not ruled over by the lunar cycle." he explained softly.

As he spoke it was clear she was not from here, which he had surmised earlier and so when next he spoke he said, "When I asked if you were a follower of SATAN earlier you seemed rather surprised. That stands for "Sages Against Thaumaturgy And Necromancy". By your reaction I would say that you had no idea what I meant, and so I have to assume you're not from here. Not from Nevermore at all. Are you a witch?" he asked, then quickly added, "I actually don't care if you are. I carry no ill will. But we need to get you into some proper clothing because all you do is draw attention in the strange garb under the cloak. You're free to keep the cloak, and I can buy you some new clothing on the morrow." he told her. His bright blue eyes stayed on her and he gave her a gentle smile. "I have this room for the night. You are free to use the bed and I can sleep on the floor. Rest assured that we will not stick to the little cover story, but if anyone asks then I am a spectacular lover." he told her with a grin.
 
She looked at him and could instantly tell that he seemed sincere. That even though he could turn into a large tiger-morph, he didn’t seem like he would actually hurt her. No, if that was true he wouldn’t have helped her to begin with. So she decided that she could trust him enough not to cower. Besides, being a video game freak and all things fantastical, this was like her ultimate heaven. Except that she had no idea how she got here, why she was here and she really wanted to go back to her family and let them know she was alive.

“No, it’s okay.” She said softly. “I’m really grateful you helped, otherwise I would have likely become hellbeast chow and that doesn’t sound very appealing.” She murmured toward the end of that sentence, taking another sip of the cheap alcoholic drink but it helped and it was a lot more potent than what was actually available in her world.

Em raised an eyebrow when he explained that SATAN actually stood for something and not the hellish King of Hell. “Oh.” Was all she said but then she quickly burst out with, “No! I mean I am not a sage and I am against that kind of stuff because it sounds ghastly. But I’m just a geek.” She shrugged her shoulders, though her eyes narrowed if he asked if she was indeed a witch. “I am not a witch.” She bit out. “Although I did play a witch once in a video game and that was pretty cool but—“ She cut herself off since he’d likely have no idea what she was talking about. “No, I’m not a witch. But I am sure the people here will think me of one, especially if I continue wearing these clothes.” But she loved this shirt. She hoped she could keep it with her. She’d be thankful for new clothes because she didn’t fancy the idea of dying a tragic death here. No, if her memory was serving her right, she already had a tragic accident back on her world. Which was why she was here. Perhaps?

Shaking her head slightly, Em sat herself down at the table to help herself to the food. Maybe it would help for her headache. “I’m sure you are a fine lover but that is something I usually like to find out for myself. Especially if you turn out to be a terrible lover.” She snorted after taking a slurp of the stew. Silence. Looking up at him, she swallowed and laughed softly. “Not that I am inviting that we actually find out if you are a ‘spectacular’ lover.” She giggled, air-quoting the word. “No no, if anyone asks, that is what I will say. Although, if there is anything else about sex I should know, you should tell me, just in case someone asks. I don’t really much about it except the specifics.” Did I really just imply in a round-about way that I am a virgin to this hunkalicious man-tiger?

“I-I mean…I-I’ve had sex.” She cleared her throat and nodded her head. “Loads of times!” She shoved a chunk of beef into her mouth from the stew to stop her rambling. She was embarrassing herself! And you’re making yourself sound like a total slut! You’re in a time where a woman’s virtue is regarded very highly. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
 
She was really quite cute, Straton realized as the little brunette human female spoke, her insistence on not being a witch something that she was very adamant about. "Ok, ok... you're not a witch. And you're not a member of SATAN, which could be good or bad, depending on how some people view that. As far as being hellbeast chow, I'll never let that happen while I'm around." he promised her and followed her to the table, where she would sit and begin to eat, rambling a little bit, which he found adorable. As she moved the conversation toward the aspect of sex, which he had brought up of course, his bright blue eyes regarded her with an amused expression. Though he caught the hint of what she meant, Straton let it slide and answered simply, "Oh I could get into some specifics about sex, there's a little more than Tab A into Slot B, if you know what I mean. But a lot of that comes about with the feelings of love and caring, and deep trust in your partner. I doubt anyone will ask, but if you keep to our cover story then there will be no problem." he said with a wink.

Starting to eat the meal as well, Straton would observe her, one brow rising slightly at her boast. "Loads of times? How... mature." he told her, his eyes still settled on her. He could tell she was lying of course, not only from the fluttering of her heart, which he could hear, but there was a certain smell that humans gave off when they told their tall tales. Though Straton knew she wasn't doing this to brag or to make something up. In fact, from her more calm manner earlier he could guess that she was virginal, or at the least, rather inexperienced. The story he'd chosen for them was only done so out of necessity. It was easy enough to be believed by most, and none would approach her while she was with him, knowing that most animorphs were rather territorial. Even with those that they were not mated with, the predator types - like Straton himself - were very protective.

"So the plan is to get some rest tonight. You're safe here in the city, and with me, and on the morrow we'll get you some clothing that is a bit more appropriate. I think maybe the best thing to do is get you some simple clothing at first, some woolen britches, boots and a shirt, and once you get to travel with me and maybe observe how things are done and get more used to the traditions and mannerisms here, we can get you some more scholarly clothing. You look like a scholar. What with the spectacles and all." Straton said. "Does that sound ok to you, or would you rather take another tact?" he asked. Straton was not dead-set on that plan, but it seemed the easiest and most simple to follow.
 
Her cheeks turned red. “N-No, you don’t need to go into detail. I paid attention in health class well enough and even that was torture.” Though she didn’t care to elaborate since he’d probably not understand what a health class was that she partook in, considering this world seemed to be stuck in some fantastical medieval life. It was like Game of Thrones met the Dark Ages met one of her fantasy RPGs. Though it seemed the necessity of sex was the same in any world. It was a true fact that humans were just as much as animals as animals were. Just…more evolved. Sometimes.

As she ate, and now she ate slower especially since he didn’t seem to be buying her story of having sex loads of times, she smiled uneasily. “Maybe not loads of times…” She murmured. She was only nineteen. How much sex could a nineteen-year-old have experienced? Well that was a subjective topic since she knew girls from school who had lost their virginities between the ages of thirteen and fifteen. Half the female population of her school, which had about three thousand students. So…perhaps a lot of people her age had a lot of sex. Except for her. Unless sex online counted, but there was no actual physical penetration, touching, kissing or anything remotely satisfactory. Yeah, that probably didn’t count. She was just really glad she wasn’t saying all of this out loud.

Finishing her food, she pulled her cup of ale over and sipped on it. It wasn’t something she’d be fond of drinking often but it was enough to wash down what she ate. She’d prefer water but considering where she was and that there seemed to be no legal drinking age, she was going to enjoy the alcohol. Plus, it gave her some courage to deal with the fact she was in this foreign place. It was kind of exciting, since it was like being in her fantasy worlds she lived for a lot online, but it was also really scary and nerve-wracking. And after her second brush with death, she really wanted to be back home, to know that her brother was fine, be with her family and once more seclude herself in her room for the rest of her life. Because if she actually went out of the house, well this is what happened! She went to a different world!

Listening to him as explained the course of action, she nodded her head slowly, absently rubbing her temple with her finger. The dull ache seemed worse the more she focused on it or kept thinking. Maybe she was just really tired. But listening to him was like a chore. Not because he sounded bad or because what he said was of no interest to her. She was just really tired. “Yeah that all sounds fine. Although, if it is not as expensive as britches, could I get a dress?” She knew what britches/breeches were and she wasn’t a fan of them. Well to be honest, she wasn’t a fan of dresses either but she’d take a dress of britches/breeches any day! “Could be more believable too if I wore a dress rather than dressed like a scholarly man, especially if I am supposedly sleeping with you. What would people say? You can’t get a woman in a flattering dress, so you have to settle for a nerdy scholar?” She snorted.

“I can see well enough without my glasses. Given the unknown circumstances of my arrival to this world, I doubt keeping up with the charade of a scholar would be wise. Might be better to…” She was thinking of the right word rather than ‘dumb down.’ “Lower my intelligence than to live up to it. So if I dressed more like a provocateur, it could be safer for us both. Like a salty wench, so to speak.”

Plus, if she was in a different world where no one really knew her, it might be fun to be someone else for a change. Step outside of her comfortable nerdy bubble and do something and dress a little bit more risque. It might be her only chance after all. Might as well find some enjoyment out of it.
 
Straton looked a little confused. "Health class? They teach sex in a class where you're from? I thought such basic biology was instinctual." he asked, a bit bewildered. It was hard to understand such a concept, as one didn't learn the basics of life in a classroom. Not like that anyway. Unless you were a mage, or a student at the Academy and studying magic or botany or alchemy of some sort. Those sorts of things made a little more sense to study from those who were well educated. But sex? Straton left the subject alone though as Emory sipped on her drink and he observed her for a moment with a little smile. He had to admit that she was really quite pretty, and he liked seeing her blush.

When she asked if they could buy her a dress instead Straton brightened. "Of course! We can certainly do that. Unless you want to go to a seamstress though, in the clothing that you have, we need to find you something to wear. Or you could go nude under the cloak." he teased, and shot her a wink. "Just kidding. I have a shirt you could wear under the cloak. A nice dress would compliment you well though. You could really be quite fetching." he admitted.

Then, without further talk, Straton stripped off his shirt. Beneath the fabric he was a well sculpted male, muscles defined and with hardly a lick of fat on him. His hair fell into his eyes and he lifted one arm to use his hand to slide fingers back through it, pushing it away from his eyes. "I'm going to wash up a little bit. You're welcome to join me if you like." he teased her again, and would head for the washroom, stripping from his pants and boots, his well muscled legs and defined backside shown without modesty, and a glimpse of his scrotum and cock could be seen shadowed by his form as he retreated. Looking over his shoulder Straton grinned. "I promise not to use all the hot water." he told her, knowing that the water was heated magically, and so long as he didn't use all the water that it would always be hot.
 
She looked like she had words that were garbled or jumbled in her mouth, just waiting to spill out in a most nonsensical fashion of explanation. But all she did was just smile sheepishly. “It’s a long story. Perhaps it can be a bedtime story one day.” For Em figured that talking about sex was the closest thing he’d actually get instead of actually having sex with her. Unless he decided to leave her in this room alone to go find a warm body to accompany him tonight. She wouldn’t blame him. Even if she already knew it would bother her. Though she didn’t know why…

“I’m sure there are dresses already made in boutiques that can be purchased. Once that is done then we can go by a seamstress. But I don’t want to cause you too much burden in that area. I have no money and I would hate to waste yours.” She said softly. “Whatever is affordable, dress, pants or not, that is what we will get.” She amended.

Food finished, she sat back in her seat, her gaze reaching to him as he removed himself from the table and began to undress. Em couldn’t help herself, she couldn’t look away as every inch of his finely toned body became exposed to her. Pushing up her glasses, the lenses became a little fogged and she quickly took them off to clean them and put them back on before he could notice. She wondered if he would even understand what fogged glasses meant.

Clearing her throat, her cheeks turned incredibly red. Em was not very accustomed to the opposite sex flirting with her or teasing her the way Straton was. In her world, men didn’t notice her and if they did, it was only to hold the door open for them. Not to ever mingle or talk with. She was too much of an introverted nerd for men to talk to her. But here was this supremely gorgeous man, a man she couldn’t even have ever dreamed of and she did have one hell of a vivid imagination, and he was flirting with her! Was he? He had to? Is this what flirting was that she heard about, read about, learned about?

“N-No thanks. I’ll just uh…I’ll be here. Not looking. Not desiring.” She cleared her throat again and then downed the rest of her ale to stop her from even speaking, lest she died of embarrassment. “I mean not desiring. Just…” She turned redder, if possible and her heart started hammering so hard. She needed to stop before she completely accomplished suicide by ultimate embarrassment! “I’m going to go hide now.” She got up and moved to the bed and buried her face into the pillow to hide her complete and utter embarrassment! No amount of technology, literature or cinema could have prepared her in how to talk to a gorgeous man like that who made that kind of proposition!
 
Straton smiled a little at her words and said, "Perhaps you'll tell me sometime. As to a dress, it would certainly be no waste of coin. I rather think you'd look quite nice in one. There are presewn dresses and most shops will also have a seamstress available." he informed her.

The subtle changes in her as he stripped were obvious to the animorph. Her scent changed, her heartbeat sped up, and other chemical changes in the air were like a book to Straton. Looking back over his shoulder his dark hair hung a little over his eyes and he tilted his head as she spoke, stumbling and stuttering over words as her manner reflected someone who was flustered. Could the simple act of him getting undressed have sparked this entire reaction? It hardly seemed likely, but as she spoke he found that that definitely seemed to be the explanation.

Yet as she finally retreated and decided to hide herself and her reaction in the pillow upon the bed, Straton felt some bit of guilt. It suddenly occured to him that perhaps, in the smallest of ways, she had been hoping that he might come to her instead of teasing. It was said that a woman wanted a man to sweep her off her feet. With a little sound as he exhaled, Straton padded over to the bed, quite naked, and observed her form a moment, her face still hidden.

Reaching down he gently touched her shoulder as he lowered himself to sit on the bed and that strong hand rubbed her back. "I am sorry. I did not mean to make you feel poorly." he said, and leaned into her. The natural warmth emitted by his kind was like a miniature heater, and by now the sun had set, casting the land into a natural chill. The fireplace did put out some heat, but with his closeness now Straton leaned into her, and he pulled her into his arms. She was quite nice to look at, and a simple kiss would not hurt... right?

Unless she fought him tooth and nail he pulled her into him, wrapping her in his strong arms as his lips would press to hers. The kiss was soft but confident, and it was obvious that he was taking care not to press too hard too fast. His lips were like the rest of him though, and burned with a fiery passion that simply could not be hidden as he held this strange but lovely woman in his arms.
 
Any moment now, he was going to go into the washroom and immerse himself into a bath and all her shame and embarrassment of being such an awkward and antisocial virgin would pass away and she could lift her head up with maybe a splinter of dignity in tact. But that door never shut and slight bit of chill she felt was immediately eradicated when a warm body hovered near hers. Was he really just above her? Then came his voice and the deep baritone of his very sexy voice sent shivers up her spine. Not only did her sensual levels spike, she was also comforted by his apology. Not just because he apologized but it was the first time a member of the opposite sex that wasn’t related to her was apologizing and seemed genuinely aggrieved by his actions.

“I wouldn’t say poorly--” she began to explain herself and why she willingly face-planted into the pillow when his strong arms surprisingly gently wrapped around her and pulled her back into him. Though she remained clothed and he was most definitely not, she could feel his warmth and the hard contours of his torso almost perfectly as if she wasn’t clothed. It was her first time being in this kind of contact with a man, let alone a man who was real, as handsome as Straton and felt as good as he did. Strong arms, incredible physique, definitely able to hold his own and a sexy voice to boot as well as not being terrible to look at. Oh...who was she kidding?! He was perhaps the sexiest man she had ever laid eyes upon, easily able to give Christian Grey, Blaine Kirk and Kade Dennon--the three most attractive men aside from Mr. Darcy in her literary world--a run for their money. Most likely because he was real!

Turning in his arms, Emory looked up at him, her words she was about to speak earlier robbed from her after one look into those beautiful deep pools of rich color eyes. She noticeably swallowed and her lips parted, as if breathing through her nose was a complicated task. His lips descended down toward hers and she had a moment of hysterics in needing to pull away, though she didn’t show it. But that all went away the moment his lips touched hers. It was nothing at all like she thought her first kiss would be. No, it was so much better. It was true in thinking that all the books she read, all the research, movies and television shows could not have prepared her for this. But in a way Emory was quite happy with that because that meant everything she thought she knew would be a wonderful surprise and far better than she could have ever imagined.

LIke this kiss.

”Her heartbeat is rising rapidly!”
“Isn’t that usually a good thing?”
“In this case, no. If her blood pressure continues this way, she will experience cardiac arrest. Not only brain dead but officially dead as well!”

“We have a code blue in room 228. I repeat, code blue.”

Doctors and nurses left their current tasks and rushed to the room in assistance. One nurse was filling a syringe with a medication to help decrease her rise in blood pressure and her oxygen was increased as well to help her breath and to keep the flow of it to her brain.

The beeping began to slow and everyone around her bed stopped what they were doing, stunned in how she suddenly came back down.
“Her blood pressure is dropping.”

They all watched in amazement as her blood pressure suddenly came to a perfect mark, all the machines going silent except for the slow beep of her heart monitor, indicating she was still alive and well with all crisis averted.

“Huh,” the head doctor on her case murmured. “Now that’s a real head-scratcher.”


Her lips parted from his and she was left a little short of breath, her cheeks were rather flushed with rosy redness and her eyes fluttered open. He was a little blurry but that was to be expected without her glasses on at the moment. A soft smile graced her face and she breathed deeply through her nose. “Can we do that again?”
 
Straton had never kissed anyone like Emory, and as he gazed down at her, the way her eyes were shining, the glow of her skin, the softness and warmth of her in his arms... the man, even the Beast, knew he was hers. hether she would lay claim to him was another matter entirely, and her soft words were met with action as Straton once more covered her mouth with his own, kissing her this time with more fiery passion and desire. Letting it pour from himso that there was no way she could deny it, Straton shifted, the nakedness of his body pressed to hers. He was all hard muscle and sinew, a being made for war, bred for violence. Yet here he was, holding her in his arms like a precious thing, and he pressed his tongue gently between her lips to play along her own, coaxing her into a more intimate kiss.

The kiss drew him into her depths like a riptide and Straton almost found himself lost. This woman, from another place or time (it mattered not which), had ensnared him and bewitched him as readily as anyone that might call her such names. Once the kiss broke from her lips his mouth played along her neck, testing and teasing along that sensitive skin. Further down her went however, lifting the fabric that covered her breasts and quelling any argument with his mouth upon those lush globes. Kissing and sucking, Straton was unashamed in his worship of her, and that delectably soft skin was afforded all of his attention. His tongue swirled over smooth skin and hardening peaks alike, and his warm hands soon covered those breasts, squeezing as he made his way lower on her torso, not even sparing a glance upward, afraid she would beg him off, even as he pressed his face between her thighs to kiss her sex through even more cloth, though the heat from her was unable to be hidden.

The low soft moan from him was unable to be hidden either, and the smell of her pussy made his nostrils flare and his pupils dilate. The Beast within paced back and forth now, and Straton, though gentle, was insistent and steady in his movements as he pulled her clothing away and bent his head to kiss her soft mound, his tongue dragging over skin as he urged her to spread her legs so that he could get a better taste of her.
 
Every touch enflamed her. The very way he looked at her made her heart skip a beat in her chest. No man had ever posed any kind of desire or even remotest interest in her and now this one kissed her. Even more, he was looking at her in a way she once wanted a man to look at her but gave hope on such an endeavor because she was too proud and too proud of herself to change for anyone. She wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing but she certainly didn’t pull away. No, she was hooked. And she needed more of this wild beast called Straton!

Their lips touched again and she was pulled in like she hadn’t been before. The first kiss was tentative, to test the waters it seemed and because he seemed to know she had never been kissed before and likely wanted to make it memorable. And even if he didn’t, he still had taken great care to do so. Now there was more to it, more depth, a hunger and a need that demanded to be sated. And that was her needs and his rising together but not clashing, rather molding to become one; whole.

His body weight overs was cathartic, a truly joyous feeling that was so new but one she wanted to continue feeling. That and his hands were so big and strong, feeling the weight of her breasts--which weren’t small by any means but usually never accentuated in the clothes she wore, despite a bra, which she was currently wearing. But that didn’t hinder him and he was fully touching her, feeling her, making his way down all the while sending jolts of pleasure through her very core. She was so wanting, so needing, she might go insane if she didn’t get more. Just like any other animal, Emory was very charged in her sudden lust for him. Confusion and vulnerability aside, as well as flaming touches and kisses, the fact that someone as handsome with a personality so shining of what she knew of him so far like Straton could ever be interested in her, it did wonders to whatever anxiety and social awkwardness she normally retained.

She felt like a new woman and he was the explorer wanting to make her feel alive and discover her in ways she didn’t even know she could possess, let alone have. Emory became very aware of how naked she was and under any other normal circumstances, she might find a way to cover herself. But the moment his lips touched her lower ones, she gave herself over to the sensation as her hands flew into his hair, silently demanding by that gesture alone for him to not stop. No, he wasn’t allowed to and she punctuated that demand by a breathy moan that escaped her lush lips, her eyes rolling into the back of her eyes as her lids closed, her legs spread so willingly to accommodate him between her.

There wasn't any shyness here now. Nope. Emory had taken the plunge. Now she wanted to reap the benefits.
 
"Just relax." Straton breathed into her ski, so soft beneath his lips, so warm and flushed. He could hear her heartbeat, feel the blood pulsing through her veins. He could smell her arousal, and her heart seemed to flutter beneath her ribs. But it was her hands that told him all he needed to know; they clutched his hair, pulling him closer, practically lifting herself to him as a gift, so in tne with his own desires and learning about hers as well.

Panties and bra were rent with a slight sound of ripping fabric as Straton's tongue caressed along the cleft of her pussy, a low rumbling purr emanating from the throat of the animorph. his hands cast aside her undergarments, rendering her completely bare to him, and those strong hands, able to crush a man's skull easily, were soft and tender as he grabbed her soft lush breasts, palming the globes easily as his tongue split her labia and delved into her folds, her moisture coating his tongue as that purr vibrated along sensitive skin. Straton could practically feel her sex heat up, bloodflow rushing to her pussy as she became more ready for sex, and he lapped eagerly at her small pink sex. His tongue was a little more rough than a human tongue, though she might never know that unless she'd experienced it before, and his tongue laved from asshole to clit.

Finally his hands fondled and groped her more fervently as fingers found her peaked nipples and rubbed, tweaking them, pulling them slightly. Even as he played with her nipples, her warm soft tits jiggling under his care, his tongue began to massage her clit, that soft little nub growing harder as her arousal came to the fore. Swirling his tongue around that pearl Straton soon gave it a little suck before probing at the entrance to her body with the tip of his tongue.
 
His words reassured her in a sense but she still felt on edge, not because of what was happening necessarily but more because of the fact it was her first experience. She was bound to be nervous naturally, whether it led to actual sex or not. He was still covering new territory for her, being touched at all by another that wasn’t her own hand. She wasn’t a complete prude. She knew what masturbation was and just like any other hormonal young adult, she did partake in it. But there was something so different about his touch in comparison to hers and that was the entire point. She knew her touch and was so accustomed to it. She didn’t know his. And it was new and exciting like a shiny new toy. Not that he was a toy…

Her undergarments were gone, his strong hands were attached to her breasts, her nipples were hard and begging for some kind attention but all her focus was on the way his probing tongue worked. The way it moved, the way it felt--rough but stimulating in all the right places--and how it was warm and wet and alarmingly a contrast to her own body temperature and moistness. As a soft moan uttered from her again in the midst of pants increasing in speed, her hips lifted up as if eager and greedy for more.

His attentions prevailed and those little purring or humming vibrations he sent through pushed her further over, her moans growing louder. Emory tilted her head back, her grip in his hair tightening just a little more, her pleasure escalating higher and higher until she was nearly seeing stars through her tightly closed eyelids. Especially as he got more aggressive in his groping of her breasts and his tongue’s ministrations. “Straton!” She gasped, her pussy beginning to gush with the first signs of impending orgasm. “Straton!” She cried out of his name, either in wanting him to stop or not, she wasn’t sure.

Then there was a rush of pleasure as the stars exploded behind her closed lids, coursing through her body like wildfire. Her eyes watered, tears leaking out the corners of her eyes and she cried out in absolute pleasure as an orgasm like no other rocked through her, heightening her senses and numbing her resolve. Like a muscle relaxant the size of Russia that just took effect in her entire body.
 
Her cries and the taste of her, the heat of her, had Straton smiling wickedly - even if she couldn't see it. His tongue worked over her sex, exploring and probing, tasting, and soon Emory squealed in pleasure and release. Straton found he quite liked that sound, her voice crying out his name and her sounds of pleasure as she writhed on his tongue. Sooner or later he was hoping she might writhe on something else, but his tongue was quite a good start. Feeling how her clit danced against his tongue and how her juices flowed from her honeyed lips, Straton slowed his pace until he was merely kissing her, licking her softly to then once more place soft kisses on her pink swollen cunt.

She was different than any other woman that he had had, that he had tasted, and he knew immediately what that meant. That they were destined. It was said that when an animorph found their mate that they would know. That they became addicted to their mate's smell, their taste, their warmth. Straton felt that tug, that inexorable pull toward this Emry that he had never felt before. The smell of her suffused his senses, and he buried his mouth and nose into her pussy like a starving man, simply breathing her in, and giving a long slow lick from asshole to clit. Fingers gripped her soft thighs and it was like he could not get enough.

Lifting his face he saw her tear-streaked cheeks and smiled. If he had made her cum so hard that she cried, maybe he could make her cum so hard she passed out. He wanted to do that for her, make her feel that. By now her body had went limp and yet his cock was a pulsing raging thing, roaring out to him the desire to mount her, to take her. But Straton breathed deep, quelling those urges and gave one last longing kiss to her soft pink pussy and stood his erection in full view. "I should go bathe Emory, and once we are ready to go we should grab some provisions and begone from this place." he informed her and bent to kiss her mouth softly, one hand gently running over her breasts; a sure sign he did not want to leave her. As if the thick cock between his legs left any doubt.

With one last smile at her Straton slipped away, moving to the other room to bathe, the water running into the huge copper tub, heated magically. The deeply hued dick between his legs begged for attention, but Straton breathed deep, the smell of Emory still in his nostrils, and resigned himself to taking care of that another time. They would need to move, but he wasn't even sure why he felt the press to do so. Couldn't they be safe here? No, no... he could, but not Emory. Surely she would be looked for, right?
 
Shivers, the most delectable of the sort, accompanied by even better shudders and spasms of pleasure rocked through her. Even if her orgasm was slowly fading into an afterthought and leaving her in a wondrous afterglow of post-orgasmic bliss, the little licks and touches he made to her sex with his tongue brought on a new pleasure, a more lingering feeling. Her breathing came quickly, shallow and stunted but as the last of his touches ceases, she could relax, no longer jolt with pleasure from one agonizingly blissful lick.

Her body sunk back into the goose-down bed, a bed of luxury in her time and far too expensive for just anyone to acquire, and a soft sigh of satisfaction and comfort escaped her. Emory looked up and saw him get up, she could see his arousal evidently and she actually licked her lips, tempted to jump him then and there. If only she could feel her legs. Resigning herself to just lying there and to continue basking in her post-orgasmic haze, she nodded her head numbly. “Mhmm...sure.”

He left and took his bath, or rather got into it, and she actually looked longingly to the door he went in for his bath. She could see the end of the copper tub, the steam rising from it and somehow managed to regain strength in her legs. Pushing herself up, she got up from the bed and discarded whatever garments of her clothing remained and presented herself to him in the bathing room, standing just beside the tub and shyly biting her finger.

Her gaze fell on the head of his cock that jutted up between his legs, even through the surface of the water and she gulped. She wanted it. She had her days when she felt so horny but that was usually in coincidence to her menstrual cycle. By her calculations she wasn’t due for a period until a couple more weeks. But right now she wanted to seize that jackhammer of his and go to town, finally and officially becoming a woman.

Instead, she chewed her nail and cleared her throat. “M-May I join you?”
 
The beat of her heart and the heat of her sex were still flooding his senses and Straton looked down at her as he stood. The way she lay there, legs akimbo and her sex so deeply colored and glistening... Straton felt himself throb and he felt that desire to slip into her, to penetrate her, and yet he wrenched himself away. He smiled at her complacent reply, recognizing her post-orgasmic haze for the bliss it was and feeling pride that he had given that to her. Slipping into the tub he was relaxing there when the soft footfalls of Emory approached. Straton opened one eye and caught her gaze decidedly lower on his person and realized she was looking at that swollen crown of his cock, the head jutting up above the surface of the water. The water was nice and clear and gave a nice view of his sex, though her question about joining him was a little surprise.

"Of course." he said simply, and would gesture for her to join him, though he didn't move one iota from where he sat. The heated water was quite warm, and the conductive properties of the copper kept it heated very nicely. If she wanted to join himthen she'd have to figure a way to avoid his arousal, or not, as she saw fit. This was his bath after all. Inside he was smiling, wondering how she might handle things, and the way she bit her finger and chewed her nail was quite adorable.
 
Emory didn’t think he would refuse her but somehow she still felt surprise and awe that he was letting her. It took her a moment to remove her gaze from his arousal. It was as if the stiff rod was talking to her, imploring her to take a seat and let their sexes rub together and mold together as one. The thought was very tempting and she licked her lips hungrily, completely unaware that he could see everything she did.

Gathering her courage and wits, Emory climbed into the tub, the hot water a welcome soothing sensation to her as it licked her creamy skin. She stood there for a second before she lowered herself down, her legs on either side of his hips and her bare pussy now engulfed underwater pressed against his hot rod. She looked at him and bit her lower lip, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders as she pressed in closer, sliding herself down a little so that she could feel that bulbous crown pressing against her virginal entrance. “Is this okay?” She breathed, her desire already climbing again. She didn't think herself wanton normally but right now that's how she felt.
 
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