A wicked shadow

In his sobbing, Jasper had completely ignored his surroundings. He stood up and whipped around to see an Orc. The Orc was old, with gray hair and pockmarked skin. It was holding a warped kris blade in one hand and pointing it at him. It was fairly small, for an orc, dressed in a wolf's skin and leather armor. It spoke in Common: "Well, well, well, look what we have here. A catboy what got away from the raiding party, eh?"

Jasper could smell the liquor on the creature's breath. It snickered at him.

"Oh, yes," it said, "I just passed out down there on the floor. Got into one of the villager's booze. Woke up just in time to hear ya snivelin' up here on the roof. Lucky me, eh? I get to take a **** home?"

It was standing only a few feet from him. Jasper could hear his heart pounding in his throat.

"What do you want?" he asked, wishing he had a sword on him.

"You, boy," said the Orc, "And I'm not takin' no for an answer here. You understand? Yer a pretty, slim little thing. You'll fetch a good price on the market. Cats are good money, ya know. If you weren't a cat I'd have done gutted you like a fish already."

Jasper took a step back. Prickles ran up and down his body. He said, "You want to sell me?"

"That I do," sneered the Orc, "And if you don't let me tie you, right here and right now, I'm gonna slit ya open. Skin yer ass alive. Take yer balls off an' feed 'em to ya."

Jasper had never been so afraid in his life. Sweat beaded on his face. His legs shook, ever so slightly. His ears were flat against his head and his tail was fluffed up.

"Aww, poor little kitty," said the Orc, "Are ya scared? I can tell just lookin' at that tail and those little ears. Good gods, whoever buys you ain't gonna be gentle, boy."

Jasper's shoulders slumped forward. He bowed his head and said, "Alright. Go ahead. Tie me."

"On your knees, cat!"

Jasper complied. He sank to his knees and offered his wrists, and watched as the Orc reached into his pack for a rope. But there was one thing he knew that the Orc didn't: Cat people are fast. Faster than nearly any other humanoid. And their claws aren't just for show. Jasper was able to climb a tree using his claws, as he had the day before. They were strong and hard enough to support his weight.

Quicker than any Orc could move, fast as a pouncing cat, he launched himself forward, aiming for the Orc's legs. The Orc cursed as Jasper slammed into it, taking its legs out from under it. The Orc grunted grunted when its body hit the ground, making a slight "hnnng" sound as air was **** out of its lungs. It sat up and swung wildly with the kris blade. Jasper backed off, dodging it easily, and then came in with his claws, raking across the Orc's face. It screamed in agony as Jasper's claws ripped red chunks out of its flesh. He was certain he'd blinded it in at least one eye. Then, without stopping, he ran on all fours to the edge of the roof and leapt, alighting gracefully on the balls of his feet on the ground below. A two-story drop was nothing to a catboy like him.

"Gods dammit! You fucking cat! Get back here, you little shit!" it shrieked, running blindly across the roof. It fell off the edge and plummeted head-first to the ground. It landed with a sickening crack and lay very still.

Jasper's heart was still pounding. He watched the dead Orc for a while, and then slowly backed into the woods. He walked despondently through the trees, occasionally stopping to look up at the moonlight. What now? With his whole life gone, what now? He sighed. He couldn't make camp like this, unless he chose to sleep in a tree again. And what of tomorrow? And the day after that? And the day after that? Where would he go? What would he do?

That's when he remembered the horn.

Jasper took the horn out of his pack and looked down at it in his hands. He could see the curving, delicate characters of Elvish script, the silver of the horn glinting in the moonlight. If he blew it, then Zephyra would return, wouldn't she? Had she been lying to him? Would she really come back?

He shrugged, put the horn to his lips, and blew.

All the animals around him stopped for a moment. No birds, no bugs, nothing. Just dead silence as the high, cold note of the Elvish horn rang through the woods. Would she even come? Was this all just a prank? Maybe she was a mercurial Elf who just wanted to play a prank on him and give a catboy a silly silver horn? Was the horn magical? Would it somehow summon her? Had she assumed that she would hear it with her sharp Elven ears? He sighed. There was no way to know the answers of any of those questions. He could only hope.

He stood a while longer in the endless, dark woods. It was peaceful and quiet, but very lonely. And there was no telling what would come sniffing after him the dark. It was best to climb a tree again. He went dutifully up the tree, thinking of all that was dead and burnt back in the village. He didn't cry or sniffle this time. The pain was mostly gone, replaced by a void, a deep emptiness. Everything felt so meaningless now that the village was gone. What would Zephyra even do? Would she take him in? Did it even matter now?

Jasper reached a limb that he could sleep on somewhat comfortably, and curled up. His kitty ears twitched a bit, and then he slowly drifted off to sleep again. He began to dream.

In his dream, he was speaking to Kissa. The rabbitgirl was sitting by a pond with him. She was holding a fishing pole, her green eyes full of mischief, her rabbit ears standing high in the golden summer sunlight. She was wearing the peasant dress she always wore.

"How come you've never tried to kiss me?" asked Kissa.

"I dunno. We've always been just friends."

"You don't think I'm pretty?"

"Well, of course you are. But..."

"But what?"

"I don't know. I've always thought that maybe we'd get married eventually. But you and I are the only two animal-people in the village."

"Well, maybe this would help."

Kissa dropped her fishing pole. She pulled her dress open, exposing her big, curvy breasts. She had big nipples, and her milk-white boobs looked inviting in the gentle sunshine. She leaned forward and smiled, caressing Jasper's cheeks.

"What's wrong, babe?" she breathed, one hand drifting down to squeeze his dick through his pants, "You look so afraid. Why don't you wake up, Jasper?"

"What?"

"I said, wake up, Jasper. Jasper, are you okay?"

His eyes opened. Panicking he sat up and slashed with his claws. Zephyra, who knew about catboys, had made sure to be a few feet away so that his claws would whiff. Even her Elven reflexes would not guarantee her safety if she were close to him.

"Jasper!" she said. It was early morning and the daw was just brightening in the East. Jasper breathed heavily.

"Zephyra," he said, "I... The village, it was..."

"I know," she said softly, "I know. Can we talk?"

"Sure," he said. Without asking, he began climbing down the tree, and Zephyra followed him. When they were both standing at the bottom, Zephyra began to speak to him in the cold light of the early dawn, as the birds began singing in the trees.

"Your village... The Orcs did it," said Zephyra.

"Yeah," said Jasper, "And I'm a bit out of options here. If you don't help me, I'm..."

"You're screwed," she said.

"Yeah," said Jasper, looking down at his feet, "And I hate to ask for help. I know you don't know me. You just wanted me to blow that horn if I wanted to... do that with you again. I know you probably can't put me up anywhere. But I..."

"You what?"

"I just... Ugh, gods-dammit! I hate asking people for help. Listen, do you think you could get me some more arrows, and maybe a tent? I'll pay you back later, when I find a place to trade skins."

Zephyra regarded him for a moment. She looked pensive, as if she were searching for just the right words to say.

"Jasper," she said slowly, "Listen to me. I know I'm almost a complete stranger to you. But we Elves don't have such a transactional look at things. Do you understand? We, uh, we don't really have kings and queens and government and so on. If someone is a friend, then you just help them until they can take care of themselves."

"I'm your friend?"

"Well, you must be!"

"We've only met once. And I know you... did some things to me. But that doesn't make us close friends."

"Jasper, I told you before, Elves can see energy. I can sense that you –"

"No such thing! You don't know anything about me!" he snapped. Then he stopped and his face fell. What was wrong? This wasn't like him, to be so angry with someone for no good reason. Especially not someone who was trying to help him.

"Sorry," he stammered, "I, uh, I just... Normally I don't... I..."

"Listen to me," said Zephyra softly. She placed her hand on his chest, feeling his heart thump, "I know what happened to you. Everything you've ever known has been destroyed in front of your eyes. I understand, Jasper. You blew that horn because you need help. You're ****. You called me, because I'm all you have left. And you're hoping that I can do something, anything for you. Am I right?"

"Well..." he said sadly. His eyes watered up a little, his ears flattened down again, and his tail drooped. No. No, he would not cry in front of anyone. He hadn't done that since he was a child. He wasn't going to whine and beg like a sissy. He wasn't a weakling.

"Listen," he said, "I don't need your help. But if there's anything you can do, I would... um... I would appreciate it."

Zephyra looked at him for a moment. She read his body language easily: flat ears, drooping tail, voice unnecessarily gruff to cover up the swallowed tears. He simply did need her help. That was a fact, but not one he wanted to admit. He wasn't being disrespectful. He wasn't being impudent. He just didn't want to grovel for anyone. And really, why should he? Even a **** person doesn't need to grovel. Zephyra recognized that Jasper was just trying to retain some of his dignity. He wouldn't take kindly to condescension or being pampered. There was a hard, outer shell there. With her keen Elven sixth-sense, she peered at his aura. Behind that hard, outer shell was a very tender heart. Something in her belly fluttered at the thought of holding that tender heart in her hands. But, not yet, not yet. Gently, one step at a time.

"Jasper," she said, "Listen to me. I know that you don't need a shoulder to cry on. I know you're not a pansy. But if you come with me, we can head west. I have a small dwelling, with a few servants, younger Elves who have not gained their own estates yet. It's built into a wooden house, high in a tree. You know the giant red trees of the western forests? It's a house, high in the branches of such a tree. If you will come with me, Jasper, I have a room where you can stay."

He looked at her uncertainly. What was she planning? What was the catch? Zephyra sensed this, understanding that Jasper still suspected her. He did not yet know what it meant to be an Elf-friend. She desperately wanted him to know that there was no catch, but he wouldn't believe her. His pride wouldn't let him believe her. He would not stay with someone and let himself simply be supported. He was a cat, but he wasn't a pet.

"Can you hunt?" she asked, "We Elves do eat meat, you know. If you want to go hunt for me, then you can use that to earn your keep. And you can stay with me until you're back on your feet."

Zephyra watched closely, taking note of Jasper's body language. She noticed how he relaxed and exhaled slightly. His arms had been crossed, but he let them fall to his sides. Good! He believed her.

"So you're not, uh, you're not going to sell me?" he asked. She laughed quietly and replied, "No, Jasper. I'm not going to knock you out and sell you to the Orcs. What do I look like? An enchantress?"

It was performative, of course. Jasper had **** and nowhere to go. But he couldn't let himself just be led along like someone's little charge. He needed to at least feign suspicion. But Zephyra knew how men, especially catpeople, reacted to being mocked and laughed at. She swallowed her laughter and took Jasper by the hand.

"Listen, Jasper," she said, "I know this is all very new and sudden for you. I gave you that horn because I could sense your energy and I could see that you have a good heart. And, well, I won't lie, I really want your cock inside me."

In spite of himself, Jasper blushed. Zephyra once again suppressed a giggle, not wanting to upset him. One little step at a time. He was from a village of rather conservative humans. He didn't understand the sexual openness of Elves. He would come to understand it very well, though. Or so Zephyra hoped.

"But I'm okay with this arrangement. You can hunt for me, and bring me meat, and I'll have a room for you. You don't have to kiss me or anything, of course. Not that I'll complain if you do. Now, please come along, if it's alright. We'll head west."

They set off through the woods. Elves are quite good at navigating through dense forests and do not need trails. Jasper found himself climbing after her up steep rocks, down plunging hillsides, crossing logs over ravines, leaping from stone to stone to cross narrow creeks, and stopped to rest at the tops of grand hills that seemed to get taller and taller with each one they climbed.

"So, Jasper," she said as they rested at the top of one hill, "When we first met..."

"Yes?" he said, a slight defensive note audible in his voice.

"I noticed that you were alright with me using my mouth on you, but you didn't want to be in my pussy. Why is that?'

Jasper stiffened. Zephyra noticed his tension, but did nothing to allay it. He would have to get used to the free, Elvish attitude toward sex. Not that he would ever be **** to participate, of course, but he would hear comments like this quite frequently.

"Well, you see," he said, slowly, "With us, it's not like how it is with Elves. I get that Elves are a little more, ah, free with these things. I know you said last time you're picky. But, you know, I always wanted a wife. I always wanted to have some kids, with another person with animal ears. And I don't think it's right to do that stuff with someone you're not married to. Even using your mouth and hands, where you don't... you don't... you don't actually put it in there. But I think that using your mouth isn't as bad, I guess. Maybe it's because you can't get pregnant that way. I don't know. I just don't like it so much."

"I see. Is there someone else you were hoping for?"

Jasper said nothing, but thought of Kissa. And the thought came to him, did he want Kissa? She had been his friend for much of his life, but she had also hinted at other things. She wasn't a sister to him. They weren't related. He had often looked at her short, thick body, a little shorter than himself, with her big, round boobs and curvy hips. But would it be right? Kissa was so aggressive, so confrontational. Could he really be at peace with someone like that? Did he, perhaps, actually like that a bit? At any rate, it seemed as if Kissa were the only girl who would take him.

"Jasper? Did you hear me?"

He sighed.

"There was someone in the village. I wasn't sure about her."

"Wasn't sure? What do you mean?"

"I mean that she and I liked each other. But it was weird. She's really in-your-face, ya know? And we got along okay, but I don't know if I really wanted to be her husband. But she was the only one in the village who liked me. And nobody else would want a catboy anyway."

"Okay. So you liked her. But you're two different people."

"Well, yes, exactly. And she didn't have any dreams, ya know? No ambition. She didn't want to see the world outside of the village, and I felt like she didn't have a lot of energy. Kissa wanted to just settle down, but I'm kind of restless, I guess."

"I hear you, Jasper."

They continued walking, and they continued talking. Zephyra was strange to Jasper, an otherworldly Elvish woman. But at the same time, she was simply so engaging. She seemed to soak up every word he said.

"And tell me," she said, "Why did you feel the need to hunt so much? You said you weren't hungry, but you were hunting anyway?"

"Well, I felt that I needed to feed everyone. Ya see, my village is mostly humans. But from time to time, every now and then, you get a person with animal features. Here or there you get someone with cat ears, rabbit ears, bird feathers, claws... We have some animal people now and then. And you know, both of my parents died when I was very young, so I was raised by two old women. Nobody really liked me very much, except Kissa. The two old women tolerated me, but that was it. Sometimes people would beat me up, or push me around. But you know, as a cat, I have better ears than most people. Better eyes. And I hunt well. So I could bring home meat when someone was hungry. So that was something that nobody could deny, ya know? That if I bring home meat, and they're hungry, then I brought home meat. They don't rationalize it. They're just happy about it. It makes 'em like you more, and they don't exclude you so much. Sometimes they'll say hello to you when they pass you in the woods. They start to ask your opinion on things. I felt like they were giving me a little... You know, a little..."

"A little bit of respect?"

"Yeah! Respect. I felt like... I don't know..."

"You felt like a real person. Like you mattered."

"Yeah."

"You felt valuable."

"Yes!"

Jasper felt his stride quicken up. Something strange was happening inside of him. He kept looking at Zephyra a lot. She had been pretty before, but now she seemed very pretty. The way she looked at him with a prolonged gaze. The way she smiled. The way she nodded her head and repeated little bits of what he said back to him. Most of all, the way she seemed to always understand. He had never felt like this. That somebody knew where he was coming from and sympathized with it.

"So yeah," he said, "Hunting really did it for me. I was good at it, and the coin was good, and people seemed to like it."

"But you say you don't care about other people's opinions."

"Well, I guess I sort of do."

"Nothing wrong with it at all, Jasper. Did you feel that hunting mattered more than just schmoozing people?"

"I did. Hunting is something real. Something that makes me feel like I'm worth a damn, you know?"

Jasper blushed slightly. He didn't know about the intense empathetic power of Elves, or how their voices and charm and mental powers could lead a person to forfeit their deepest secrets. All he knew was that this person he was speaking with seemed to know what was on his mind. And, rather than using it to attack him or shame him, she only reacted with kindness. Jasper felt somehow that Zephyra must want the best for him, that she meant no harm.

"Worth a damn?" she asked, "Why would you need to hunt to be worth a damn?"

Jasper felt something flutter in his breast and shivered a little. That question touched a nerve that he would rather not discuss.

"I dunno," he said.

Zephyra got it. He didn't want to talk about that just yet. Fair enough. He didn't have to.

"Well, we're going to have to make camp soon," she said. It was late afternoon and the sun was slowly turning to the bright orange tint of the early evening. Zephyra stopped and began pulling the makings of a tent out of her pack. She and Jasper set up the tent and built the fire. They ate jerky from Jasper's pack, which he shared with her. Then, as evening came, they boiled water in a vessel that Zephyra had brought with her and made tea. Jasper had had tea a few times, but none so strong as this. He drank it slowly.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

"It grows naturally in the forests to the West."

They stayed like that for a while, until night fell and the fire burned low into embers. Zephyra smiled at him.

"Well, Jasper," she said quietly, placing her soft, white hand on his shoulder, "It's time to head in."

"Yeah," he said, speaking low to match her, "I'm tired. We're both sleeping in the tent?"

She laughed. He knew the answer, of course. But for some reason, he felt the need to ask it.

"Yes," she said, "Come in the tent with me."

He crawled inside with her. Then he sat in total darkness, feeling the sound of her clothes peeling off. Sitting in the small dark tent, he heard the muffled noises of her undoing buttons and sloughing off clothes.

"Come on, Jasper," she said, her voice soft and quiet against the backdrop of the night, all the crickets and night-birds singing their songs, "You ought not to sleep in your clothes. It's not good for you.

"I.... do I have to?" he said. Then, his voice hardened, and he said, "I can't do that, Zephyra."

She stopped and regarded him in the dark. Zephyra could not see him, for all that he was only a foot away from her. There was much tension in his voice. He seemed very uncomfortable.

"You don't have to do anything, Jasper," she said, "And you don't have to sleep outside or on the ground. If you want, I'll let you have the blankets, and you can sleep there. I'll sleep a few feet away. Whatever you want."

There was a short silence, and then she heard Jasper exhale, very slowly, but heavily and deliberately.

"Zephyra," he said quietly, "If we share the blankets, we won't necessarily do anything, right?"

"Of course not," she said, "And if you want, I'll let you have the blankets all to yourself. I'll sleep on the ground, if you want."

"Okay, then," he said. He took his boots and socks off, but that was all. Under the covers, he felt quite warm with all his clothes on, then a little warmer as Zephyra's naked body slid in beside him. He thought of her in the dark, that smooth skin shining bright and white under sunlight, her pink nipples, her small breasts, her blonde pubic hair.... The heat grew greater and greater, until he began to seat. Unable to deal with the heat, he took his clothes off. And soon he, too, was naked under the covers with Zephyra.

"You poor thing," she said, drawing close to him, "Do you like being naked under here with me?"

"Yes," he replied, "But I still don't want to do that with you."

"That's okay," she said, "But I have to ask... When you saw me naked the other day, did you like it?"

"Of course I did. I won't lie."

"Would you like to see it again?"

"I.... Yes, yes I would."

Zephyra crawled out of the blankets and opened the tent flap, exposing them to the full moon. Then she took a lantern from her pack and lit it. It illuminated the whole tent from inside of its glass container. Zephyra was there, laying on one side and smiling at him.

"Do you like what you see, Jasper?"

"Yes. I like it quite a bit."

"Do you want me?"

"I do. But I don't. But... But..."

"But what?"

Zephyra smiled at him, still laying on her sides. Her perfect breasts looked so tempting in the moonlight, her pointed ears twitching here and there, seductive and fickle. Her pussy was totally hairless, and Jasper felt his cock harden just looking at it.

"I just," he said, "Please, Zephyra, you're very pretty. You're gorgeous. I know a lot of the men back in the village would have done anything to have you."

"Oh, really? And what would you do to me, Jasper?"

He shuddered, looking at her perfect body. His heart was pounding harder than it had when he fought the Orc. He unconsciously reached one hand down and began stroking himself.

"I would start... Ugh... I would start by bending you over..."

"Oh yeah?" she said. A brush rose to her cheeks and she began to breathe heavily, "And what would you do to me then?"

"I... I would put it inside..." said Jasper, squeezing his dick hard. Zephyra turned over on all fours and put her chest down, squashing her breasts into the floor of the tent and raising her ass up in the air to the light of the lantern and the moon.

"Do you want to mount me, Jasper?" she cooed, wiggling her butt for his benefit, "Do you want to make me squeal for you?"

"Gods, I... I... No!" he said finally, releasing his dick from his hand. Zephyra sighed, knowing that this opportunity, at least, would not bear fruit. He didn't want to, yet.

"That's fine," she said in a near whisper. She crawled over, and Jasper eyed her boobs as she blew out the lantern. She put it back in her pack, closed the tent flap, and crawled back under the covers with Jasper.

"You're agreeing to share the covers with me?" she said.

"Yes," he replied.

Zephyra cuddled up to him, her warm, naked body pressed against his.

"Good," she said, "And if you wanna fuck later, just let me know, okay? But you don't have to if you don't want to."

They fell asleep like that. Zephyra was a good head taller than him, so he ended up with his face in her breasts. She had one of her legs thrown over him and her hand behind his head, and she gently cradled him against her. Zephyra desperately wanted to say sweet, lovely things to him, but she didn't dare. He wouldn't take it right. He simply wasn't ready to be that **** yet.