Flora & Fauna Pt. 08

As I twist free of the blankets, I struggle to decipher which way is up. Sinking my nails into the sheets does nothing to stop the residual spinning. The dizziness only grows stronger when I hiccup and taste faint remnants of the liquor. Atop the nightstand is a pitcher of water and a glass, the latter holding down a note.

"Drink lots of water. You're going to need it. There's food at your height in the kitchen when you're ready. I'll be in my workshop if you need me.

- Too many us sounds."

Lumbering around the house covered in blankets, I spend the day chugging water and nibbling on salty fried bread topped with some kind of zingy spread. Ares is already gone, the hearth looking like a tornado rampaged through it. The low couch is shoved back against a wall, I can only assume to have made space for him to pass out. Despite him kicking off the blanket, there are several and even more pillows strewn about. Desperate to be useful, I fold and stack things away in a closet.

Time to be brave. Ish.

Outside the front door, the town is reassuringly quiet. It's mid afternoon and bitter cold. Before I can change my mind, I adjust the backpack on my shoulder and close the door behind me.

No one seems to care about seeing a human. Barely anyone glances my way as I get lost wandering the gravel streets. There's a relief in being ignored, after all the weeks of people fawning over my ring and impending wedding. I rub at the blank space on my left ring finger and suck in a deep breath of crisp cold.

"Flora?"

I start with a jump and spin around to see Laith.

"Sorry, wasn't trying to scare you. Are you looking for And?"

"No. I'm just," I look around and shrug, "exploring, I guess. And it's Vitkus."

Laith somehow grunts out an amused sound without even a slight smile, "Well done."

"What are you doing?"

"Getting lunch. You can come with me, if you like."

Laith walks past me, looking unconcerned with if I follow him or not. I rush a few steps ahead to keep up with him. An icy breeze blasts down the street. Laith shivers and buttons up the dark coat he's wearing over a high collared sweater. Without a coat, I wrap my arms tight around myself for warmth.

"You should probably buy a coat," he mumbles with a furrow in his brow.

"I will," I answer, not mentioning that I have one, but can't bring myself to wear it because of who it smells like. What it reminds me of.

A thick juniper tree grows beside the door of the stone building that I follow Laith to. One branch, dotted with blue berries, droops over the signage. Puffed up birds litter the greenery and frantically pluck as many berries as they can fit into their beaks. The creak of a door calls my attention away and I rush through the door Laith holds open for me.

The low tables look even stranger when there are multiples. The floor in front of the long, low bar is bordered by a raised leather cushion. Laith settles down on it with his tail flicked over his back legs and reaches over the bar for a menu that he barely glances at. I kneel on the cushion and look at his menu instead of feeling around on the other side for one of my own.

"Oh, Pipsqueak, you survived the night."

I squeak out an offended sound and look up to see Ares.

"My name's not Pipsqueak."

"That sound you made isn't helping your case."

Movement catching my eye makes me turn away before I can think up a retort. Beside me, Laith is covering his mouth with a hand and failing to hide his snickering.

"You're both jerks," I pout.

"Oh, don't be sore," Ares hand musses my hair, "I'm just impressed you're standing twelve hours after taking a shot of our liquor. Would a free lunch make us friends again?"

I swat his hand away, "It would help."

"Does that mean I'm getting a free lunch too?" Laith inquires.

"Nah, you already know for sure that I'm an asshole. That ship has sailed."

Laith laughs covertly again, except I join in this time.

The pub is quiet but for a few human travelers that stop in for a hot drink or folded to-go boxes of food. Between the interruptions, Ares and Laith mostly discuss work. The former tells seemingly endless stories of throwing out unruly patrons, that seem to be disproportionately my kind. I can't fathom how or why any creature my size would try to act macho in the face of someone like Ares. The latter talks about his eyes growing tired from shaping and resetting a mess of tiny tourmaline stones all day. Ares points out a burn on Laith's hand at one point, snatching it from across the bar as he does and forcibly wrapping a bandage over it while Laith protests and goes red in the cheeks. The word overprotective resounds in my head. I keep my mouth stuffed with sandwich and parsnip chips to avoid having to pretend I know anything about what they're discussing.

"What about you?"

I look up to find both of them watching me expectantly.

"What about me?" I say around my final mouthful of lunch.

"What do you do?" Ares elaborates.

"Do?"

"For work." Laith softly adds.

"Ummm."

"You must've done something back in Leaven, right?"

"Oh, well, um," I dab at my lips with a napkin and wilt under their eyes, "no?"

They look at each other in silent surprise. I think about telling them what I know of my father's textile business, but speaking of that like it's my own feels embarrassing. Potentially even more embarrassing than admitting the most work I ever did was selecting color schemes and decorations for parties.

.

"Do you want me to walk you back to And's?" Laith asks outside as he rebuttons his coat.

"No, I'm alright on my own."

The cold out is even more bitter and bitey now that the sun is nearly set. A piebald centaur passes by me in a wool wrap of flaming red, rubbing the frozen tips of her ears between her fingers. I pull the sweater sleeves down to cover my hands and take the tighter, warmer alleys back toward the house.

Inside, the warmth Andrius is stoking to life in the fireplace makes me shudder in relief. His golden hair is wet and mostly bundled atop his head. As I close the door behind me, I can smell the honey-cream fragrance of his soap. He looks over his shoulder at me and his brows raise.

"You didn't take your coat?"

"Oh, no, I was okay though," I go back to hiding my fingers in the sleeves.

As the tired chill slowly melts from my muscles, I sit beside Andrius and flop over his back.

"Well, I'm glad you got out of the- Ah!"

I laugh at the shocked sound he makes when I slide my frozen hands under his furry stomach. One of his hands goes around my wrists and pulls out my hands to hold them out before the fire as it grows. When they're sufficiently warmed, he releases them and lets me rest across his back with my arms hugged around his top half.

"I had lunch with Laith and Ares," I say against the skin-fur line.

"Oh?"

"It was nice," I can feel him relax under me where he was tense a second ago, "But they asked me what I was going to do out here. And... I didn't know what to say."

"What would you like to do?"

"I came out here to be with you. That's as far as I've ever thought about it."

"Well, if you're not picky, I could use your help."

"You just feel bad for me," I mumble sadly.

"No, to be honest, I kind of fucked myself over. I took on a lot of new clients before we met."

"How come?"

"Lillian," he grits out like he hates saying the name, "She went from saying that I was neglecting her whenever we weren't together to saying I was smothering her when we were. So, I took on extra work to keep myself busy while I gave her space."

"Oh," I pause, "Would I actually be helping? Or would I be in your way?"

"If you're okay with boring, fetch-stuff work, you would absolutely be helping."

The awkward void being filled by his suggestion alleviates my downcast mood. I sit up on my knees and brush away the few loose tendrils of wet hair, leaning forward to kiss the nape of his neck.

.

Andrius stretches out on bed before me, a pop sounding somewhere in his shoulders before he relaxes. His towel ruffled hair messily frames his eyes as he watches me fluff my own hair dry. I glance down and drop the towel with a blush at how much borrowed tunic reveals when my arms are up.

"I should buy panties," I murmur.

"I disagree."

He sits back up on the bed and reaches out to pull me close. I kneel in front of him on the bed and let him rest his head on my chest as his arms wrap around my torso.

"Oh," he suddenly says in a surprised, low voice.

"What?"

I follow his gaze to an oval mirror mounted on the wall. In the reflection, I see the big tunic bunched up under his arm around my waist. And my exposed ass with a bright red, hand-shaped mark on one cheek.

"Oh," I echo.

Andrius leans down and lightly kisses the point of my hip.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs against my skin, "Was I too rough last night?"

"No," I answer honestly, blush coloring my cheeks to match, "I liked it. I just didn't realize it left a mark."

His lips press softly to my hips and stomach as he trails his way up my body, "I'll be gentler next time."

"No," I pout just before his lips reach mine.

"No?"

"If I didn't like it, you think you would ever hear the end of it?"

Andrius laughs against my cheek and nuzzles his face into my hair as he pulls me farther into bed with him, "I should probably stop underestimating you."

"Yes you should," I agree haughtily.

In the dim light of a single lantern, his spiced sugar tongue twists around mine, soothing every ache and worry that collected through the day. One of his hands stays at my back, pressing me close. The other slides down to my legs and strokes up and down as far as it can reach.

"Are you still fascinated with my legs?" I ask teasingly.

"Endlessly."

The memory of him taking me plays in my mind. The exhilarating fear and uncertainty that coiled in my flesh as I draped myself over the armchair to present myself to him. The armchair that was conveniently the perfect height... I sit up on the bed and look around. At my body, his, the low bed. Andrius' hands pause and he stares up at me.

"What?"

I put my hands flat on his chest and push. His unsure gaze goes to my hands for a second, before he smiles wide and lets me position him on the bed. I retake my place from the night before, throwing one leg over him to sit on the curve of his lower chest. My thighs sink into his fur as I grip him tight with my legs to not flop over the other side. I lean forward to kiss his chest, stroking my hands up and down his sides.

Easing my hips back as I go, I kiss lower on his body. His breaths under me are slow and deep. The fur under my center grows wet as I slide back. A territorial kind of satisfaction swells in me at the feeling of marking his body with my sex, my scent. I stop when my sex presses against the velvet skin hiding his cock. Thick moisture seeps out from him as I press us together. The drip oozes down my slit and soaks my clit in a fire that makes me moan impatiently into his fur. I sit up enough to keep us together but also get a look at his face. His eyes are half-lidded, what I can see of them frantically chasing nothing.

"Andrius?"

His near-black eyes snap open and find mine.

"Can you stay in this position? Through the trance, I mean?"

He nods quickly, "I think so."

I push my hips back again, pressing our openings together. The deep breath he pulls into his lungs lifts my top half high and I slide back to settle tighter against him. I gasp at the head of his cock sliding from the velvet skin. The burning hot, slick flesh leaves him to immediately nestle between my pussy lips. I push back on it, wordlessly inviting him deeper. Andrius' manhood extends further, sliding into me more. My mouth hangs open in stunned shock at the sensation of him filling me again. His entry stretches me, forcing me to adjust my legs and spread myself wider for him. I gasp out panting breaths against his fur. Both our hips move and finally slam the last inch of him home, the feeling forcing a scream past my lips.

Delicious delirium swirls my mind. The inhuman feel of his lower body, my nails digging into his fur and the feel of his muscular back legs against my ankles where my shaking legs hug him to me. I shakily moan at the illicit feeling of our joining, our mingled wetness soaking my inner thighs and the fur around his cock. Raising my hips, I whimper at the feeling of him sliding through my inner walls. I open my eyes slightly and watch him. Andrius' hands are twisted in the blankets and sheets, his knuckles white from how tight he's gripping the fabric. His eyes are squinted shut, his mouth open and softly panting. I force my eyes to stay open as I drop my hips and my sex swallows him entirely. His teeth bare with a deep snarling sound of pleasure.

Through the haze of the trance, Andrius' hips find rhythm with my own. His hips raise each time mine lower, our motions slamming his cock in to the hilt each time. I grip his fur tight to not be thrown from him with the ferocity of our fucking. His breath catches suddenly and I feel the hard, pulsing manhood swell inside me. Leaning forward, I press myself flat to his body and make my thrusts more shallow, wanting to feel as much of his completion as I can. I match his swelling with clenching of my own, gripping as tight with the slick inner muscles as possible. I watch him through half-lidded eyes as my orgasm finally snaps loose inside me. I bury my face in his fur and whimper out cut-short screams as my sex spasms around his length.

Andrius' forelegs reach forward and pull back, hunting for a larger form that isn't there to hold against him just before he cums. His head presses back hard into the pillows and he bares his teeth as he lets out a deep growl. The sound rumbles all around and inside me. His manhood convulses inside me. Thick, hot froth forcibly spreads my insides even wider. I yelp in intoxicating over-stimulation and bite down on his body. Shaking breaths puff out of my nose as I sink my teeth deeper, golden fur pillowing my face. Andrius' hips keep rocking forward and back as he pulses within my sex. The motion only slows once he's filled me to the brim. Cum oozes out around his cock and collects between us, soaking into his fur and slicking my thighs.

Both our bodies go relaxed and limp against each other though we stay connected. I nuzzle my face against him and breathe in his sweet scent, tinted with the musk of sex and sweat. Andrius reaches down and grabs my hands. He pulls me up to rest on the hot bare skin of his chest and strokes my hair affectionately. I want to say something into the soft bliss of this moment. Maybe even repeat the message I scribbled down for a sprite back in Leaven. But perhaps it's naive to think that message would fit in this moment. Maybe it would just ruin everything. I swallow every possible word and press my lips to his skin instead. Andrius' arms hold me tight to his chest and he rolls us both onto our sides.

It can wait. I decide.

.

"If you look at it from the right angle, it's kind of a frog."

I hold up the scrap hunk of pale basswood Andrius has me practicing on while he does real work. My other hand is covered in fine shavings from shaping the wood with sandpaper after trying out a few different chisel sizes. Andrius looks up from the deep red colored lattice he's slowly bringing to shape and tilts his head at me.

"You see it, right?"

"I believe that you see it."

He laughs at the faux offended expression I twist my face into. I drop the practice project and reach back for a glass of water sitting beside the plates, empty but for the remaining crumbs from our lunch. It's pleasantly warm in the workshop, the golden hue of the interior tints the light streaming in from a large window on the ceiling so bright I could almost be convinced it's just as balmy outside. Andrius stands and stretches out his limbs. The sight of red on his fur makes me gasp and lean forward to drag my fingertips down his lower chest.

"I hurt you," I mumble sadly at the bit of blood crusted on his fur.

"What?" He tries to look down at the spot I'm tracing.

"I bit you too deep."

"You bit me?"

"Wow," I look up into his eyes, "That trance is deep, huh?"

"You have no idea," he smirks and takes my hand away from him, "It doesn't even hurt."

"Really?"

"Really. Just consider it payback for the handprint I left on your ass."

I snort out a laugh and flop onto my back, "Okay, sounds fair."

Andrius walks past me to a desk and pulls open a drawer. I listen to the sounds of him rummaging through a mess and then scribbling something down.

"Ready for your first fetch job? I think I've worked around the things I don't have as much as I can."

"Sure."

I stand and shake the hem of my sweater to release the sawdust stuck to it. Sticking a hand in my hair and ruffling the waves makes another rain of different colored dust.

"Do you remember the way to Ares' pub?"

I nod.

"It'll be easy to find the store then. Behind the pub, three buildings down, red door with white trim. Can't miss it."

He finishes writing and folds the paper up before handing it to me. I stuff it into the shallow pocket of my pants.

"The owner's name is Henry. Bushy beard, ask him if you're not sure about anything."

.

Maybe stinking like Claudius wouldn't have been so bad, I think as I hug my arms around myself.

I blow my hair out of my face only for it to get blasted back into my eyes by a gust of cold wind. A lilting laugh catches my attention and I turn toward the sound. A centaur pulls her pink wool wrap tighter around her shoulders. Her skin, hair, and fur are all nearly the same deep brown color. Her cherubic face is speckled all over with pin-dot freckles. A human male stares up at her, looking like he's realizing she's not laughing with him and never was. She shakes her head softly and covers her smirk with a gloved hand. He finally storms off.

"I love your sweater-wrap thing," I say when I come to stand before her.

"Oh," she takes a delicate step back as if she's worried she'll step on me, "Thank you."

"Where'd you get it?"

.

Following her instructions takes me several blocks away from my destination, but it's worth it when I step out from the cramped boutique and finally feel warmed up. I loop the fuzzy knit of caramel colored fabric around my upper half like a massive scarf. The top loop sits high enough to protect my ears from the chill. I sigh happily inside the cavern of mohair and continue on my errand.

The sliding wooden door is so heavy it's a pain to close. I grip the handle and pull with all my weight, barely moving it along its tracks. A giant hand presses flat on the door and shoves it out of my grip to close it. I huff out an exhausted breath in the wood and metal scented air of the shop.

"Hey, Pip."

I look up and see Ares' smug expression staring down at me.

"Do you work everywhere?"

He laughs and looks over my shoulder to the door, "I was just delivering some food. And coming in with you?"

"No," I fish around coins in my pocket and pull out the folded paper, "I need to get some stuff for him."

Ares looms over me as he looks at the list, "He has the worst handwriting ever."

"No he doesn't."

"Pfft." He rolls his eyes, "Anyway, half that list is in one spot. Go to the back wall, left, rack in the corner."

"Oh, thanks!"

I'm grateful this Henry person believes in excessive labeling. I stack paper boxes in my arms as I mentally check things off the list. The ones that I can reach anyway. As I double check the grit of sandpaper I need, there's the grating sound of the heavy door pulling open and shut. The front is hidden by the high shelves and racks. I vaguely hear Ares and another male voice greeting someone who doesn't seem to answer. In the following silence, I go back to collecting supplies.