FSE

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Laurelia stalked her prey with silent footfalls and barely a whisper of fur brushing through undergrowth. Her brothers would mock her for her lack of stealth, but she knew that the stranger whom she stalked would not hear her. Certainly, the stranger would not smell her—humans were not known for their sense of smell, and she was downwind.

The only real risk was if the horse were to notice her; but then again, the human was so distracted it seemed unlikely she would notice anything her mount did. She was busy talking to herself in a language Laurelia did not recognize, seemingly holding an entire conversation with herself. And the horse—the horse seemed oblivious, as though he had heard it all before and had long since stopped caring.

Of course, it wasn’t precisely the stranger Laurelia wanted; it was the stranger’s belongings; more specifically, it was the stranger’s valuable belongings. She didn’t bother to entertain the notion of acquiring what was kept in the stranger’s saddlebags—the horse was likely to spook and run away when Laurelia made her move—but she could certainly make herself and her pack a sizable profit off of the ornate bone and gold jewelry the stranger was wearing.

She also didn’t bother to concern herself with the stranger’s sword; it was sheathed at her hip, and if Laurelia landed on top of her, she would be unable to draw it to protect herself. But if I miss… I had better be ready to run. I just won’t miss, then!

The foliage thinned for a moment, and Laurelia was able to gain a clear view of the stranger for the first time since she started stalking her. The woman did not appear overly tall, though it was hard for Laurelia to judge such things—most humans seeming tall to her, by virtue of their standing on two legs compared to her four—but she did appear to be in excellent physical condition, and her sun bronzed skin showed that she was well accustomed to travel. Her face was fairly ugly, as human faces tended to be, with an ugly, short, triangular nose, plain brown eyes hidden under brutish eyebrows, and ugly, flat face being ugly and flat, as they tended to be. Her bronze colored hair, which was tied back in a tail, was her only attractive feature.

Laurelia conceded to herself that it was possible she was, maybe, just a little bit, biased. And, to be fair, she also admitted that her dislike of humans colored her opinion of their faces being ugly, as she was honestly rather intrigued by their bipedal bodies and had at times been known to spy on humans bathing in the nearby rivers and lakes. Her most deeply hidden desire that she revealed to no one, ever, was to be able to walk on two legs and use her front paws like hands; she considered it absolutely ridiculous that these foolish humans with their general lack of awareness of the world around them should be granted such a wondrous gift as their dexterous and versatile hands. They had no idea how lucky they were not having to use their mouths to pick things up.

The side of a large conifer suddenly impeded her vision of the human, and a covey of birds taking flight impeded her ability to hear the human and her horse. Quickening her pace momentarily to clear the tree, she immediately located the horse—but the human was nowhere to be seen.

Shit. Shit. Uhoh. Heart hammering in her chest, blood pumping noisily through her head, she quickly looked around herself, trying to find where the human had gone. I haven’t become the prey, have I? If I survive, my brothers will never stop making fun of me. They might not even let me go out on a hunt again!

She felt her tensed body release into a quivering mess, and her breath was let out in a short gasp, as she finally spotted the human off on the other side of the path with her legs braced, her left hand on her hip, and her right hand held in front of her at waist height.

Wait. Why is she standing? I thought human females squatted uncomfortably?

The woman was clearly standing; and she was clearly urinating into the forest. But she’s a woman! Isn’t she? Am I just that bad at telling humans apart? The human finished its business, and then shook some strange object in its right hand for a few moments until droplets no longer flew from it. Tucking the object into a belt pouch at its side, the human fumbled around with the front of its pants for a moment, and turned back around to once again mount its horse.

It has breasts. Those are definitely breasts. Fat men have breasts too, but this human’s not fat.

The human continued on, and disappeared around a slight bend in the road. Laurelia, calmed somewhat, now, quickly crossed to where the stranger had urinated. She took a cautious sniff, her suspicions reconfirmed; the stranger was definitely female. If she had the chance to talk to the stranger after stealing her belongings, she would be sure to ask about that strange device.

* * *

She finally got to her preferred ambush location, a curve in the road around a small outcropping of rock from which Laurelia would be able to leap upon her unsuspecting victim and knock her from her horse. It was now simply a matter of waiting.

Laurelia looked around her, idly studying the forest. She had never been very far outside of her forest, and she didn’t even know if it had an official name—her people just called it ‘home’. What she did know, was that the forest was enormous, extending further north than any of her people had been in living memory, and extending south the hundred or so miles between her and the sea. That, she knew the name of; it was called the Mediterranean Sea, and apparently had been for as long as her people had been living in the region—not that anyone kept track of how long that had been, but she knew it to have been at least a thousand years. She had been to see the large body of water, once. It had stretched off into the distance as far as she could see in nearly every direction, curving inwards at the edges. She was told by those who had been there that it eventually narrowed to the southwest to the point where you could see the other side, and there was apparently an even larger body of water that it connected with.

I wonder what that looks like. A fly landed on her ear, and she shook her head to shoo it away. Not that I’ll ever see it. The fly landed in her ear and bit it. Cursing under her breath, she dug at it with a hind leg and felt a moment of satisfaction at having killed the fly; and then she felt a moment of depression at not having hands to clean her ear out with. Instead, she rubbed that ear on the ground and in the dirt a bit.

She heard a slight noise, her ears perked up, and she swiveled ears and head to better hear the approaching rider. Ok. Keep going. Nice and easy. Don’t look around too closely; stay distracted; keep talking to yourself.

She got into a pouncing stance, ready to leap from her hidden nook in the outcropping at the rider’s height. The sound of hooves on the dirt road, with the occasional noise of a shoe clacking on stone, grew louder. Right in front of her she saw the horse’s nose appear, followed by his eyes and the rest of his head.

Before she could even see the rider’s hands, she started her forward movement, leaping through the air and down upon where she knew the unsuspecting rider would be.

Shit.

She missed the rider entirely, and felt the rider’s small but strong hands grab her and slam her down onto the horse’s back. The rider had leaned back in her saddle, and her horse had stopped moving, right as Laurelia left her feet and began sailing through the air.

She was ready for me? I’m going to end up as a rug. I’m going to end up as a rug, and my brothers will tell their future cubs about me as a lesson on what happens to stupid wolves who do stupid things and get caught and turned into rugs.

As Laurelia struggled to take in a breath, the air having all been knocked out of her by her landing, she felt a leg go over her neck, pinning her in place. She felt a hand run down her back, and she heard the woman speak in the trader’s tongue for the first time.

“Such beautiful fur… You’d make a wonderful rug.” The woman idly scratched Laurelia’s back for a moment, then continued. “Be glad I’m the one who caught you, and not a trapper, yes?”

Laurelia twisted her head as far as she could, and saw the woman smiling down at her. Struggling seemed like an ill-advised decision, but so did speaking. Maybe if I play dumb, she’ll let me go, or try to tame me or something stupid like that, and I’ll find a way to get away.

No such luck; the woman’s smile turned a little more feral than Laurelia liked the look of; and what the woman said next definitely did nothing to give Laurelia confidence in either of those outcomes.

“Now, I know what you are, and I know you can speak, and I know you’ve been robbing people on their way through this part of the forest.” Her gaze was focused, and intent, now. “I found myself intrigued. What could possibly have caused wolves, of all things, to turn into highwaymen? A little bit of quiet stealing, sure; but actually assaulting people on the roads!? Unheard of! Inconceivable! Yet it seems to be true?” The hand that had been lightly scratching Laurelia’s back now jabbed at her several times. “Come on. Speak up. I’m probably the only person who will actually hear you out.”

I. She. What? They’re talking about us? She knows about me? I don’t think I can actually make my mouth work. She tried to speak, but her lower jaw just flopped open. I bet I look like an idiot. Maybe I should continue playing dumb? I certainly feel like I am.

“Come on. Don’t make me do this the hard way. I really dislike torture, but if I can’t get you to talk, I can’t clean up this mess.” One eyebrow rose as the other sank, and the serious face became a frowning face.

The woman raised up her right hand where Laurelia could see it, presenting her with a view of a small, clean hand with nails trimmed short; the fingers were curled in slightly, and the thumb was held out. The eyebrow remained raised. “Last chance.”

Laurelia thought she knew where this was going, but she was still too shocked by everything that was happening to be able to think coherently, let alone speak. She watched in mute horror as the woman wet her thumb in her mouth, and then moved the thumb out of sight.

“Wah! Stop! I’ll talk!” She squirmed in an effort to get away; no good.

The woman broke out into a delighted grin. “Good! I hoped you could be made to see reason!”

The woman’s horse snorted, sounding amused.

“And you, Van,” the woman said to the horse, “Take us to a stream, would you? I’m going to have to wash my hand. The sooner the better.” Looking at Laurelia again, the woman smiled and said, “I was told once the story of an old wise man. He learned a great many things that no one else knew by sticking his thumb in every bottom he came across! Surprisingly, it was a fish that killed him! A stingray.” She looked pensive for a moment. “Everyone thought it would be a large lizard called a crocodile that would get him. They were his favorite, you know; he stuck his thumb in countless crocodile bottoms.”

The woman ruffled the fur between Laurelia’s shoulders, “Anyways. Start talking, Fluffy.”

She’s crazy! And her thumb’s still firmly lodged… nevermind. Talk. I can do that! “Umm. What do you want to know?” she asked cautiously.

“Why, the reason you were robbing people, of course!” She waved her left hand in a wide gesture where Laurelia could see it. “You’re living in a rich forest, full of life, and you’re stealing from people. It doesn’t make sense.”

“We, umm. We don’t eat the other animals.”

At this, the woman perked up, looking excited. “Really? They’re all enlightened then?”

Enlightened? Huh? She repeated the thoughts out loud.

“Oh, you know. Like you! Intellectually on par with humans.” The woman waved her left arm emphatically, causing her right arm to move about slightly as well, in turn causing Laurelia to squirm slightly. She seemed to notice what she had done, as her face took on an appearance of contriteness.

Oh, that tickles, sort of? It feels weird, at any rate. At least it doesn’t hurt. Maybe I should have kept playing dumb; this doesn’t seem to be a very good torture tactic. “Oh. Well, no. Not really. The animals we normally eat have just been disappearing. Human settlements have been overhunting them, the rivers are getting polluted… we’re trying to help the animals, and we can’t do that if we keep eating them!”

The woman rested her left hand against her nose, with her thumb lightly brushing against her chin. Her right hand remained where it was, though the thumb certainly seemed to have acquired a mind of its own. “Always,” she muttered, “They never learn.”

Laurelia had started to feel warm, and her breathing deepened. “Nnng,” she panted. This is so embarrassing. I’m never living this down if anyone sees me.

“I can take the thumb out, if you’d like.”

“Evil,” she panted. “You’re evil.”

The woman grinned again, and the thumb stayed where it was, though it acquired additional motion. The leg left her neck and returned to the horse’s side. “So. Your people have started stealing to buy food? Have you thought about just moving further from the humans? Not an ideal solution, I know, but better than being wiped out.”

“We,” she panted, “thought about”, she panted again, interrupting every few words, “it. But, we didn’t want, to abandon, the animals, or, our home. Nnng. So, ahhh, we decided to, fight back.” Her hips were starting to thrust against the horse’s side, now.

“This won’t do,” the woman interrupted. “Here.” She did something with her other fingers, cupping them underneath Laurelia and moving in a massaging motion.

Laurelia’s soft thrusting motion became rapid, her tongue was lolling out, and her blood was pumping so hard she could barely hear her now heavy panting over top of it. Ahhh, this is so much better than gold and jewelry! I need to find someone to do this for me at least once a day. “Nnng!” she convulsed against Van; looking to her left, she could see far enough underneath him to see that he was now quite aroused. She didn’t think the sensations she was feeling could grow any stronger, but was proved wrong a moment later as a large, strong, and sopping wet tongue found its way where the fingers of the woman currently pleasuring her had not. She cried out loudly as she convulsed one last time and felt a gush of wetness pour out of her only to be lapped up by Van’s eager tongue.

Laurelia felt completely exhausted, and more than a little bit numb, as she lay collapsed atop Van. She noticed that the thumb had been extracted, and the woman was no longer on the horse behind her.

Van had managed to locate a stream while she was distracted, and now stood next to it. The woman was busy scrubbing her hands in the water, a blocky chunk of soap in one hand.

Scrabbling at the horse’s side, Laurelia got herself up, over, and off of Van and onto the ground. He turned his head to look back at her, and gave her a tooth-filled horse grin. Then he trotted off into the woods, disappearing from sight. She had a feeling she knew what he was up to, and she left him to it.

“Your horse,” she said huskily to the woman at the river’s edge, “he’s like me, isn’t he?”

The woman finished washing the soap off her hands, and stood up. “Yes,” she paused for a moment, tilting her head slightly and looking off into the distance, “and no.” She stepped away from the water and started back toward Laurelia. “He can’t actually talk; not out loud, at any rate. He speaks to me with his mind, and sometimes I even listen,” she finished, cheerfully.

Laurelia pointed her nose toward the trees where Van had disappeared. “He took off that way.” She looked back at the woman. “Weren’t you worried I’d sneak off, while you were busy?”

“Pfft, no,” came the dismissive response. “Somewhere between your failed ambush and the river I’d like to think we became friends.” She offered her hand. “Calmeren. Cal, for short. If you add an -El after it, I won’t correct you,” she added with a chuckle.

“Calmeren-El?”

Tonelessly, “No.”

She reached out a paw and placed it in Cal’s hand. “Laurelia.”

Cal smiled brightly, shook Laurelia’s paw, and stood up. “Right. Now that we’re friends, it’s time to take me to your family. I think it’s ridiculous that your pack became Robin Hood and his band of Merry Men.”

???

“But I’m here, and I came to help.”

“Are we friends?”

“What else would we be?”

“I’m not sure… I’m not sure how to feel about any of this, really, other than that I don’t think you mean any harm by any of it.”

Cal laughed cheerfully, the sound of it actually quite pleasant. “Well of course I don’t mean any harm by any of it! I told you I don’t like torture, and I don’t. I’d rather make friends than enemies.”

Laurelia looked at Cal quizzically. “And you make friends by going around, and, jamming your thumb… up peoples’ butts???”

Cal shrugged and said, “When the situation calls for it.” She plopped down onto a dry rock. “Besides! How could I resist? That position you got yourself caught in was just too adorable.”

Laurelia’s ears flattened in embarrassment, and she shook her head in confusion. This woman is definitely crazy. “And you wouldn’t be upset by someone doing the same to you?”

Cal scratched her head, hesitated, and answered seriously. “I suppose it really depends… If it were someone with an attitude and outlook like mine, and I were in a situation like yours. If they weren’t doing it to be cruel, or for some kind of personal satisfaction. I’d definitely prefer that to torture.”

“But you weren’t going to torture me, anyways, were you?”

Cal’s features dropped a bit, and her shoulders hung down lower. “I’m afraid that I was. I have a timeline. If I don’t get your people out of here and somewhere safe soon, they’re going to be killed.”

What!? “What!?” Laurelia gasped. “By who? How?”

“The nearest villages petitioned some war leader. I don’t know his name; Tarok, or Toroak… something like that? It doesn’t matter, he’s bringing his army this way, and the villagers agreed to become his subjects peacefully in return. I dislike directly interfering in such matters, so I decided to try to track down your people instead of going to the war leader to tell him to back off.”

??? “And he would listen to you?”

“Yes. But such things come at a price. Better just to limit myself to what anyone could do.”

Laurelia hung her head, her tail lying limply on the gravel behind her, exhaustion making her want to give up and cry. I failed an ambush, got caught by a crazy woman, got molested by her – and I’m still not sure how to feel about that – and found out that my entire pack is about to be hunted down and killed. If anything Cal said is even true; if she’s even capable of knowing what’s true. Cal was talking to herself in that strange language again. She seemed to be discussing something with someone who wasn’t there.

Laurelia raised her head sharply, ears once again standing upright. “Are you talking to Van?”

Cal stopped talking and looked at Laurelia with a slightly confused expression, her head tilted slightly to the side. “Van? No. Why do you ask?”

Oh. Well there goes that theory. “Because, well, you know. You were talking to yourself! I couldn’t even recognize the language.”

“Oh!” Cal smiled again. “Yes, I was talking to myself. Good habit.”

“Don’t you mean, ‘bad’, habit?”

“Certainly not, or I would have said as much. No, talking to yourself is one of the best habits to have!”

Laurelia tilted her own head, this time.

“It helps you reason things out and organize your thoughts. You can have entire arguments from a dozen opposing viewpoints! You can philosophize, keep yourself entertained, predict how other conversations are going to go… the list is endless!”

“I, umm… see?” Laurelia stated, though she did not in fact see. Behind her she could hear Van’s footsteps as he returned from wherever he had gone off to. “And the language you were speaking?”

Cal stood up and responded brightly, with a smile on her face. “Why, English, of course!”