Time Together, Time Apart Pt. 03

This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

All work is fiction intended for fantasy only, regardless of content, and consent must always be acquired when engaging in any sex act with another adult.

Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.

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Sandor eventually managed to get back to the inn, though he had looked for Alyssa first. It had not been hard to find out that she had been searching for him too; at first, he had caught a whisper and a laugh about the "lunatic" on the street who had been shouting and shouting. After that, he had merely asked a passing officer, who didn't seem to recognise Sandor as a mage, which was a relief for passing anonymously, about what was going on and the officer let him know that he had indeed seen a doe-taur.

"You don't get many of them in these parts," the hare guard confirmed, comfortably and lightly dressed, for there was not all that much serious crime in the area, he did not even have a weapon. "Deer-taurs, that is. Nice little thing, though she wasn't very quiet. She seemed very worried, shouting and shouting. I tried to help her but she ran off. I don't think she heard me, poor thing."

"Yes, that sounds like Alyssa," Sandor confirmed, his heart sinking. "I'm so sorry, she was looking for me -- it was completely my fault. We got separated and she got left here alone, she didn't know where I was."

The hare's face softened, his long, upright ears twitching a little.

"Ah, well then," he said kindly. "That makes sense, of course, she would have been shouting for you then, I'm sure. It did disturb some but no more than those that have consumed just a little more alcohol than their bodies can handle on a late night!"

He laughed and Sandor smiled, though he privately did not think that Alyssa could ever cause all that much trouble.

"Did you see which direction she went?"

"Hm..." The hare scratched the back of his neck and head. "I'm not sure, perhaps down towards the docks?"

That didn't help Sandor all that much and, truthfully, he could not imagine a reason that Alyssa would have headed down towards the docks. There was nothing down there for her, bar the boat that they had come in on -- and even that had most likely departed with travellers too by that time.

He asked a few others if they had seen a doe-taur to varying levels of success. Another fox couple turned up their noses at him, dressed more elegantly than Sandor -- kind of like how his mother had used to dress. His stomach twinged with something akin to remorse, though he had not wanted to break his ties with his family, not truly. But he could not abide them treating Alyssa as they did and he did not regret it, not truly, even if he wondered just what that relationship could have been between them all if his mother had been more accepting.

Maybe he should have done more to convince her, to make her see things a different way... He had slowly been a greater and greater advocate for taurs, but it took seeing how Alyssa was treated to really open his eyes, which was not how it should have been. And he had forgotten all about it since the devouring had come upon him, the things that had before, bee so important to him falling by the wayside.

Had Alyssa been one of those things that had been set aside too? He licked his lips nervously, though his mouth was not dry enough for any kind of moisture to settle or ease his tongue and jaw.

In the end, he headed back to the inn, hoping that he would find her there, though his stomach still stirred and churned with a sense of unease. What if Alyssa wasn't there and she was lost in the city somewhere? A splinter of his staff, Kastalia, had been brought along in his pocket, but he was not sure it would be enough to focus his mind with the pills affecting him too. Whereas they controlled the devouring, he would have been a fool, well and truly, to suspect that there would be no side effects to something so strong that it controlled even that horrific urge. His magic was more difficult to reach for when he was taking the pills, when he had had to take one recently, but having a splinter of the staff there would help him channel his magic more effectively. Of course, with the fox's skills as a mage, he didn't always need the staff, but every made had something on which to focus their will and intent.

The staff had been brought along too, but was wrapped up in heavy, protective cloths. He didn't want to use it there and make it obvious to everyone there in Herring Archipelago that he was a mage, not unless it was something that he absolutely had to do. He didn't quite yet know what people there thought about mages and, when he was not at his full strength, he would rather keep it quiet in case he was targeted.

He hated feeling like he had to hold himself back, even if it was only a little.

He slipped discreetly, or so he thought, back up the stairs, avoiding the receptionist, but would have made it all the way up if not for the waiter who called him back.

"Ah -- sir! Sandor, was it? Sir, could you come back down here for a moment, please?"

The fox paused, his muzzle wrinkling minutely. He had learned to better school his expressions so that they did not so obviously show his displeasure, but that had been more difficult than he had realised to do. Social norms applied to him more so than Alyssa, considering his status as a high-performing mage. If he did even better, however, oddly enough, things like that would cease to matter again.

Under his breath, Sandor groaned. He hated the politics of relationships...

"Yes?"

He smiled faintly, though was sure that tiredness still showed through in his eyes. The waiter, a black panther with glossy fur and a smart shirt tucked into black trousers, stood up tall, his eyes kind but firm. His trousers narrowed at the calf, tucked into his boots, which completed his smart ensemble, surely benefitting the inn.

"Sir, I'm afraid there has been a complaint."

Sandor's eyes widened.

"A complaint?" He probed. "But we've only just arrived and we've been out for the entire evening. However could there be a complaint about anything at this hour? Are you sure that you've gotten the right room?"

He was a little harsher with the feline than he intended to be, but, well...it felt as if it was deserved. He couldn't ever imagine Alyssa doing anything that anyone would complain about when they were in an environment like that -- much less at all! He was the one getting into trouble with things like that, sometimes practising his spells when it would have been better not to. There was still a scorch mark on the wall of one inn that they had frequented a few years back and it had been Alyssa who had smoothed things over there, for Sandor simply had not known how to.

He missed her.

The panther shuffled his weight back and forth, from one hind paw to the other, seeming uncomfortable. His tail lashed lightly, but he was swifter still to school his features to neutrality than Sandor was.

"There was a great deal of noise, some time ago," he said pointedly. "From your servant? I believe they are a taur, a deer taur... After some intense clattering and banging from the room, they burst out, disturbing our other guests and hurtled down the stairs!"

Sandor gulped as the panther's voice rose slightly.

"Oh."

"Yes, indeed," the panther continued. "Your servant tore through the inn at such a pace that her hooves have damaged and scraped the floors! That will all need to be buffed out, waxed and polished, you know. All of this costs money -- I hope you are of the understanding too that you are just as responsible for your servant as you are yourself."

Sandor bristled. First of all, they should never have been at all referring to Alyssa as his servant -- he had never introduced her as that! He had even put the room under both of their names, only he had been too out of it with seasickness, when they had arrived, to correct the receptionist when she had checked them in. Yet another thing that Alyssa had had to deal with for him...

Secondly, didn't anyone think to stop her and ask her why she was in such distress? He couldn't imagine just walking away from someone that upset! Not that he had not tried to comfort others in the past and had it backfire on him like a spell gone wrong, but, well... Wasn't it the right thing to do to try? And they were just blaming her for messing up their floors when, clearly, they should have been suited to the hooves of taurs anyway!

"I am sure that the quality of your floors is not of our concern," he said, putting on his best haughty tone, emulating his mother. "And it is unfair of you to speak of damages when I can clearly see that there is wear around the corners. If the floors were sealed duly to begin with, then there would have been no risk. With so many coming through, do you expect everyone to ensure their claws do not even touch the floor too? What about the heels of their boots? This was advertised as a taur-suited establishment and yet we were not even given a room on the ground floor."

The waiter stumbled back a half-step, whiskers twitching. Perhaps it was not something that, truly, he should have been getting himself involved in, but sometimes it was too late for that.

"Ah, well, um," he said, fumbling with his words as his tail swung anxiously back and forth. "The thing is, all damages must be paid for..."

"And another thing -- Alyssa is not my servant and her name was in the room registration book, just the same as mine," he said firmly. "Are you focusing on me simply because my partner is a taur? Or because I am a mage?"

The panther gulped and took a solid step back, though it was clear to see the frustration snarling in his eyes. The green-amber orbs shone with annoyance, though he knew, however sharp he was, when things had gone as far as he was able to take them.

"I see, sir," he said slowly, as if he was dredging up each and every word from where he didn't want to call them forth. "That... That is understandable, my apologies for the miscommunication."

It was not much of an apology but the fox thought that it was the only one that he was going to get. And he couldn't waste more time on the waiter, even if he had been so crass as to treat his partner as even less than a common servant -- more like a pet, if how he spoke of her hooves and her running was anything to go by. Sandor ground his teeth together. What if Alyssa had been chased? Wouldn't they do something about it then and try to help her?

Probably not. He'd have to arm Alyssa with even more to defend herself, maybe some magical spells that could be stored in vials or the fabric of paper talismans, though it was not an area of magic that he was honestly specialised in. Yet he was acutely aware that the handy, swift doe-taur could not carry her bowgun everywhere, for there were some places where it was simply not suitable to take, or else it would be considered a threat.

There'll be something that I can do to help her, I just know it.

Still, he had to find out where she was and why exactly she had run from the inn at such a pace. Sandor doubted very much that she was being chased if she was leaving the inn; surely, if that was the case, she would have been running to the inn?

Just in case, leaving the panther behind, who seemed satisfied that he had made things clear enough to Sandor, regardless of how the fox had come back at him, he headed up to the room. Of course, Alyssa was not there, though he had not expected to find her there after hearing something like that coming from the waiter, though he had to bear in mind that she may have had the chance to return too.

But, no... The door swinging open, without even a key, revealed their room. He scanned his eyes through their belongings, though nothing, thankfully, appeared to have been touched. It was even more worrying still that the door had been left unlocked, even if it had been closed. What on earth or beyond could ever have made Alyssa flee like that, at such a pace that it was as if she hadn't even had the chance to make sure the door was locked behind her?

Sandor swallowed hard, not wanting to acknowledge the lump in his throat.

"That... That's not like Alyssa..."

It was worse to say it aloud and he lunged for his staff, his breath suddenly tight in his chest, as if it was being constricted by a vine. To hell with the city! They couldn't do anything to him, he was sure, not truly, nothing more than make things a little more awkward and a little more difficult for him, if they knew he was a mage. And Alyssa was more important than anything that silly people could do or say...

They could always leave if things there were too bad. But perhaps that was a bit of an overreaction to things that should have been pretty normal to him, at least by then. Sandor chewed thoughtfully, trying to calm his pounding heart, taking a moment to centre himself, to calm his breath, even taking bigger, deep breaths to make his heart rate slow more and more and more.

Magic was not all about casting spells, after all... It was about his body and his relationship to it, how things played back and forth there. If his mind was not settled, even in the thick of battle, he was not going to perform at his best. That was just one of the reasons that the bandits had almost caught him and bested him back in the forest when they had been travelling to their new home. Even though it had not been all that long ago, it felt like an age that had happened, after which everything had changed.

The staff unrolled from the soft clothes smoothly, the exterior ones rougher and coarser, waterproof to make sure that the wood was preserved and cared for. Reverently, the fox exhaled, feeling more settled than he had in quite some time. Everything was better when he had Kastalia with him. Why, she could have even been considered the other love of his life, even if Alyssa would still always be first and foremost in his life, in his mind and, as always, in his heart.

Taking the staff in hand, he sighed, feeling at least a little comforted to feel it back in the palm of his hand, his fingers curling back around the smooth, worn wood. It would wear, yes, over time, but a staff like that should never break with all the magic that had been flowing through it. He still wanted to care for it, for all that the staff had given him.

Heading outside with renewed vigour and energy, as if he had even had the chance to sleep, he took stock of the street. It had to be nearing midnight, a clock keeping time in a tower not all that far away, though there were still many out on the streets. Whether they were heading back to their respective inns or out to further enjoy the nightlife, it did not bother Sandor, except that their influence and presence might make it even harder for him to find Alyssa.

He rested his hand on a tree that was being grown at the side of the street, the city seeming to make sure that there were plenty of opportunities to see green life and greenery there, as much a part of the city as the people who made it what it was were. But there would be more green spaces and plants that he could use in less populated areas, if he was careful about what he did and where he went...

"Now..." He muttered under his breath, ignoring those that gave him second, strange looks at the sight of the staff in his hand, clearly wondering what the strange tourist fox was up to. "Where are you Alyssa, my love?"

He let his magic flow from him through the staff into the tree, "contacting" the plants. For there were networks and chains of them, roots and passageways, under the ground, stretching through the cavern of the earth in a way that Sandor had learned to tap into. It was as if there was a whole new world down there that he could never have imagined before the ancient evil had sunk into him, changed his psyche, worked itself even well into the marrow of his bones.

He exhaled, eyes half-lidded, making sure to keep a good hold on the staff, though it remained cool under his paw. Letting his lips part, he relaxed, talking to the plants. They did not speak in any words that he could have translated, not exactly, but more sensations and impressions. Even then, Sandor did not know how to read every last one of them clearly and there was still room for error.

He had to find Alyssa.

He felt them...the plants. He sensed the passage of hooves, a skitter and a flurry. Alyssa seemed to have been in a hurry, but even the plants seemed drawn back from him and cut off, pulling away from his mental, magical grasp.

Alyssa had run, but the plants there seemed to know something that he didn't, or at least had not acknowledged for a time. He had had other things on his mind, after all.

Yet it was there, even as he tried to trace Alyssa's path, through the plants, the devouring rising once again. He did not know if it was simply too long since he had taken a pill or if it was him using the plants to sense what had happened there, but it was there and it hungered.

No...

He held it back and down, swallowing hard, his hold on the plants and their network of communication slipping. The fox trickled one of the broad, round, flat leaves with his fingers, trying to use his sense of touch to bring himself back to the moment just a little more, to remind himself of where he was, who he was, yet it did him no good.

It was like another entity within him, even though Sandor, logically, however sadly, knew that it was a part of him too. The devouring made him want to drool, to claim, to maim, to snap and to tear. It had overcome him before, even if he had only taken non-sapient animals at that time, blocking out the memory. He remembered blood and horror and a sick kind of twisted joy in killing, but...no more than that.

It was that darkness that frightened the fox more than anything else, his chest constricting once more, muscles bunching up, all as if he was slipping into fight or flight mode. For him, he didn't think that freezing up was an option, for that might have at least spared those around him, if he was so very truly afraid of losing control.

He had to hold on. He had to ignore the drool slavering about his jaws, gulping hard, stopping it from pooling in the cavern between his teeth and under his tongue. Sandor growled subtly, drawing more looks from bystanders, but they all should have known that it was a risk indeed to stand there and watch him as if he was a sideshow to be enjoyed, a freak on parade.

They didn't know the risk, oh no. Not as the devouring throbbed and pulsed, yawning and gaping and aching in the pit of his belly. It made him feel as if he had not eaten in weeks, as if he was nothing more than the shell of a fox desperate for any kind of sustenance, but Sandor still knew that not to be true, yes. He knew it to be something else, something other, something that he had to fight. For his belly still was not truly settled after the trip there -- and perhaps that was something that he should have considered when it came to the devouring. It was hard to know everything about something that only a few seemed to even understand vaguely, yet he didn't have the time to learn as he went.

It was too confusing, Sandor's hands gripping the staff as it shook in his clenched hands, black nails even scraping in the wood in a way that would have horrified him if he had at all been in his right mind. He hated harming his staff in any way and had spent hours conditioning and treating it, both with physical means and magical means, after any extreme fights that he had been in before, as soon as he could do so for himself.