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“Ooohhhhhhhhhhh!” I let out a final raw cry as climax explodes deep inside me, wet slapping forcing me over the edge into a void of pure sensation and absolute pleasure.
I hear him growling in my ear, encouraging me as he strums my clit through this rushing onslaught of feeling and need. As I lose consciousness, I have a faint memory of the first time I heard a Vulpari growl…
CHAPTER 3
“Grewweerrr.”
I come to consciousness to something like a word, but without any syntax. It is an intelligent utterance, but it has no obvious meaning. Somewhere in the depths of my smoke-riddled mind I am aware that I am not only alive, but I am no longer alone.
I open my eyes and look up into the face of a living monster. It is just as I saw it before when it came crashing through the wall of my shelter, a creature with golden eyes and sharp teeth, a mouth more like a snout than a person’s would be. What is this?
I would scream, but my cry is weak and thin, coming from my aching throat. Have I somehow escaped the fire only to be consumed by a wild beast?
It appears not.
It does not take me long to realize that I have been rescued. I am lying on a bed of furs and pelts beneath a light fixture made from a rudimentary candle. And the beast that growled at me is not trying to hurt me. It is smearing a sort of ointment that smells of berries on my skin where I have sustained some remarkably light burns.
“Thank you,” I say, knowing we do not speak the same language, but wanting to express my gratitude regardless.
The beast has silken fur all over its body. It appears to be male, judging by the sheath beneath its belly. I can’t see his male appendage, but like a wolf or a dog, or a horse, or pretty much any four-legged animal, I can see the pouch of fur that surrounds it. I should not be staring. I lift my eyes back up to the face of the creature and try to understand its expression. It is hard to read. It does not seem angry or hungry.
“Meheheheh!” I hear another familiar voice.
“Bilbo!” I shout the goat’s name with glee. I have no idea how he survived the fire, or how he avoided becoming a meal for this creature who must surely consider us to be both eminently edible.
I notice that Bilbo is eating a pile of grass that has been dropped on the floor. We are inside a cave, I think. This creature has looked after both of us for reasons I cannot begin to understand. A little voice somewhere at the back of my mind suggests that it’s because the ferocious beast is keeping us to eat, but that really does not seem to be the case.
“Frerreerrr…”
A second one of the creatures arrives.
“Greererrr,” my attendant replies.
They both inspect me with interest, taking careful pains not to hurt me. They look at my arms and my legs, they very carefully lift and spread every finger. Then they get to my hair and they spend an inordinate amount of time picking through the strands, plucking at something here and there. I am being groomed. They are taking care of me. I feel a sudden welling of warmth and relief. I had no idea how starved I was for companionship and touch until this very moment.
It embarrasses and confuses me, and compels me to try to explain myself.
“I. Uh. I’m sorry I’m in your place. I didn’t know you guys lived here, and then I was left behind, and then the shuttle exploded.”
A big furry palm covers my mouth and I fall silent, mostly out of physical necessity. They don’t want me to talk. Maybe they don’t understand what I’m saying, or maybe they just don’t like the sound of my voice. Kurt and Steve used to say I’d get shrill when I was stressed.
I quiet down, close my eyes, and let them do what they need to do, all the while the old fairytale with the bit about my what big teeth you have, my what big claws you have goes running through my head.
The fire should have consumed me, but it didn’t. I have been saved. I have a second, second chance. I will not waste it.
CHAPTER 4
Volt
“Preparing to transport.”
I am Captain Volt of the Vulpari vessel Destroyer. To my crew, I am known as captain. To my friends, I am known as Volt. To my enemies I am known as indistinguishable screaming. At least, that’s usually how they address me when they meet me on the battlefield. I’ve never quite caught what they’re wailing about. Lamentations of some kind, I can only assume.
My mission: to find the ancient artifacts of my people and restore them to glorious ownership. This planet over which we hover holds the seed species of our kind, the ancestors from which we arose. This is a sacred world, and only a few precious Vulparians will ever be permitted to set foot here. I have spent many months preparing for this moment, being cleansed by the elders, and running the wild trials. I am the first in the fleet to be given permission to make planetary landing.
