FSE

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It wasn't long before the lioness realized that the rain wasn't going to stop for some time. The clouds had darkened and dropped low enough to cover the tops of the hills that bordered the valley. A mist caressed the treetops outside of their little shelter, rain trickling along cracks and runnels in the boulders opposite her.

The shelter was fairly dry, if not at all warm. They could stay here for a while...

Her gaze moved to the haunches of venison strapped to her pack. Blood stained the fabric, joining a myriad of other off colored patches ground into the canvas by previous trips through the woods.

"We ought to build a rack," the lioness said, arms kept wrapped around the fox, "smoke the meat before it goes bad."

The fox looked up at her, whiskers tickling her throat.

"Do you have a hatchet?" He asked.

The lioness nodded, and though she knew they'd need to get right to work, she remained still for a few more moments before moving. The fox was too soft and warm to easily give up, he molded so nicely against her.

"Alright..." She sighed to herself, and stood up, ears pinning back against sprays of water vapor blowing in from the storm outside. She stretched, rolling her shoulders and glanced down at the fox, who was picking himself up next to her.

"I'll get the moss if you get the poles." He said.

That arrangement sounded agreeable to the lioness and the pair of them forged out into the rain, shoulders hunched and teeth gritted. The fox picked his way towards the stream, the lioness paused next to a spindly stand of aspens, tapping the flat of the hatchet blade against her thigh in quiet contemplation.

To smoke and preserve their meat, first she'd need to construct a rack of green wood, to be suspended over a bed of embers. The aspens before her were young and vital, they wouldn't burn easily, and they were fairly skinny too. Wouldn't be too hard to cut up.

Once she had the aspens cut down, peeled and sectioned, she'd need to lash them together. For that she could use the sinewy outer layers of the aspens...if pounded with the blunt end of her hatchet they would become tender enough to act as bindings.

After the rack was finished and laid upon stones perhaps a foot above the glowing coals, then strips of venisons would be laid upon it and covered with moss, to seal in the heat and smoke.

The lioness made short work of the aspens and stripped then with careful strokes of the hatchet, still hunched against the rain, shivering once more. They'd probably need to build a separate fire just for themselves...to dry off before they caught something from the cold and damp.

Perhaps she could ask the fox to get on that once he was done collecting moss. She wondered how he was getting on, clad only in his skimpy little loincloth, and supposed that it probably didn't make much of a difference. Her own clothes were completely soaked, clinging to her fur and perfectly outlining her form. She wiped water from her forehead and shook herself. It did nothing.

Yeah...the sooner they built a fire the better.

Hunched over, dragging a pair of stripped saplings behind her, the lioness was greeted by sporadic white flashes coming from within their shelter. The fox was hunched over a rough square of river rocks, placed at intervals along a large section of ground. He'd piled a large, fluffy heap of rotten wood within and was trying hard to light it with his flint and steel, paws trembling, water dripping from the tip of his muzzle.

The lioness let the saplings drop and brushed the water from herself, stepping out of the rain with an unhidden sigh of relief.

"You work fast..." She noted, eyes traveling over the stones, spotting a little pile of wood the fox seemed to have produced from somewhere. It was reasonably dry.

"There was a rotten log," the fox pointed off towards the stream, teeth chattering, "if you're done with the saplings then I c-could go and cut some more wood from it with the hatchet while you make the f-frame." He tried to rake the steel over his flint once more but only produced a pitiful shower of pale sparks. They bounced from the rotted wood with only a miserable puff of smoke.

Kneeling down with a sigh, the lioness leaned in close, placing herself behind the fox and steadying his paws. Together they struck the flint once more and this time a steadier stream of sparks rained down onto the pile of tinder.

Leaning in close, the fox blew, puffs of rotted wood spiraling up, borne on the heat cast by a growing yellow flame. It was hesitant and flagged, but, fed by twigs and more tinder, it grew strong enough to overwhelm the damp.

The fox straightened up, breathing a sigh of relief. The fur on his arms and chest, the lioness realized, was speckled with bits of rotted wood. Seeming to realize his disheveled state, the fox brushed himself off self consciously.

"You've made a smoking frame before, right?" The lioness asked.

The fox nodded, shifting ever closer to the warmth cast off by the fire, delicate curls of steam rising from his wet fur.

"You d-don't have to go out there." The fox said as the lioness picked her hatchet back up.

"You're shivering," she said, aware that she was doing much the same thing, "get some embers going and start on the frame. I'll go get more wood." She turned back out into the rain before the fox could protest, steeling herself for another unpleasant journey.

First she brought the rest of the saplings back, traipsing through the muck, paws shivering and teeth chattering. The fox looked up from where he was lashing a crude rectangle together, paws working dexterously to make sure the bindings were tight and secure. He'd begun splitting thin rails of green wood using only his knife.

The lioness silently offered her hatchet but he eschewed with a little shake of his head.

"You'll n-need it." He said, through chattering teeth.

And she did.

The lioness nearly fell over the rotted log, barking her shin on the end of it. Muttering halfhearted obscenities and rubbing her bruised leg, she looked it over. It had rotted from the inside out, the fox working his way in from the bottom, where the log had fallen across a pair of stones. She wormed her way under and saw just what the fox had meant. Most of the easiest to get to material had already been excavated, leaving behind sections of wood that hadn't yet rotted away. It was dry though, and would make good firewood.

Positioning her hatchet carefully, the lioness chipped away, forming a pile of little pieces next to her. The work grew easier as she gained more leverage, but all the while she was aware of the rain falling on her lower body, chilling her to the bone.

Finally, satisfied, she scooped her armload of wood and shimmied back out, hunching over her burden all the way back to the shelter.

She set it up against the dwindling pile that the fox had gathered and more slumped than sat, breathing hard, trembling from head to toe.

"You alright?" The fox asked, watching the lioness extend her paws over the flames, the fire hissing as drips of water fell into it.

The lioness managed to nod, her teeth were chattering too badly for her to speak. Her whole body wasn't to far behind, it felt as though every bit of her was vibrating. It hurt. Like the antithesis of a purr.

The heat from the fire hurt too, stinging her paws and making her wince. She curled her fingers in but found that it was hard to do so, it felt almost like the flesh around her fingers had swollen.

She'd overdone it out there, she realized, and drew her knees up to her chest, trying to keep at least some of the warmth left in her from draining out into the damp air.

"A-At least w-we'll be set on w-wood for a while." She managed with a shaky grin.

The fox stared with unhidden concern and took her paws, uncurling her fingers and massaging them gently. The lioness winced, needle sharp prickles of pain lancing through her fingers, all the way to the wrist, but after a while it began to abate as the blood resumed flowing.

Steam rose from her and she realized that the fox was noticeably drier on one side more than the other. He'd been facing partially away from the flames while working on the frame, she realized.

"You're frozen," the fox sighed, "stay here while I finish the frame."

The lioness tested her tongue in her mouth. Decided that she could probably speak without her teeth chattering too much.

"You sure?" She asked, loathe to leave the warmth of the fire, but equally reluctant to sit still and do nothing.

The fox nodded without hesitation.

"You'll catch your death if you go back out there. We're fine for right now...just...rest."

They sat in silence for some time, the lioness sitting by the fire, letting the moisture wick from her fur and the warmth slowly tame the shivers within her, the fox lashing little rods of aspen wood across the rack, none more than a few inches from each other. His handiwork was quite good, the lioness noted, watching him put his knife away and pick one end of the frame up experimentally. Everything held together.

"You said this was your job, right? Back home?" She asked, voice steadier now, fur merely damp rather than soaked. The flames were beginning to die down now, and the lioness spread the coals out into an even layer within the framework made by the rocks, laying down extra pieces of wood as she did so, to generate smoke and further embers.

"Yeah," the fox said, "usually it's women's work...um...not that..."

The lioness smiled faintly.

"I know," she said, "...is that why you don't have a mate?"

The fox's eyes shifted down to the ground.

"Maybe..." He muttered, "I'm...I've never been good at hunting or fighting or anything like that. I'm not a brave person." He said this with a hint of shame, but also a sort of familiarity that made the lioness' stomach clench. This wasn't an unfamiliar observation for him, she realized.

"You stuck with me in the ruins," she said, watching the flames lick a chunk of wood, steam hissing from the cracks, "that was pretty brave."

The fox glanced up. The faintest trace of a smile teased his lips, then he was looking away again.

"C'mon," the lioness insisted, "what we did back there...it was incredibly stupid, sure, but we were brave. We went into a ruin and lived to tell the tale." Her voice lifted with an undeniable surge of pride.

This time the fox's smile stuck. It wavered a little, the fox's ears laid partially back.

"I guess..." He allowed.

"You know," the lioness corrected, reaching out to bump the fox's shoulder with a fist, "now let's get that rack over the fire."

They did so and the fox unstrapped one of the haunches, setting it carefully on the ground between them. They carved it carefully into strips, licking the blood from their paws every so often. Despite herself the lioness was starting to feel hungry, eyes drifting to the thin strips of venison that soon began to crowd the rack. It soon became apparent they wouldn't have enough room for it all.

"You know what?" The lioness asked, a finger popping from her mouth, lips streaked with crimson.

"Hmm?" The fox asked, glancing up, looking to be in slightly better spirits.

"I say we deserve a reward for making it through the morning," now that she was almost fully dried off and no longer shaking like a sick kitten, she felt more at ease, more relaxed, "what do you say to some liver?"

The fox blinked, surprised.

"But that's yours." He said.

The lioness smirked.

"I'm sharing," she said, "now...should we build another fire? Throw the scraps and everything on there and have some breakfast?"

The fox nodded, and went to work carving a spit while the lioness took a deep breath and ventured out into the rain once more. She made it to the stream and gathered an armload of stones, watching a rush of silty brown water roar past her. The flow had increased noticeably since the storm had begun, and a quick glance up at the sky revealed that they were just as threatening as ever.

Yeah...she'd be here for a bit.

With the fox.

She contemplated as she picked her way back towards the shelter, arms aching as the burden of stones seemed to grow heavier and heavier the further she went.

The fox still seemed conflicted about just how to see her and what to do, but the lioness almost didn't mind the questions that their arrangement sparked...as foreboding as they were.

The fox had stuck right with her all through the ruins and was being an excellent helper now. Despite their differences, she had to admit that they made a pretty good team.

And he'd kissed her. That had been unexpected, but nice all the same. A part of her wanted to ask the fox to do it again, or to simply surprise him the next idle moment they had...but that would have to wait. They were a bit busy at the moment.

Still, if the rain didn't let up, and the smoking left some lazy hours unoccupied...

She grinned to herself, then paused, conflicted. Would the fox appreciate that? Jumping him might only further the weird conflict he was having, and the lioness had already decided not to get involved in that. It was just too complicated, she didn't have nearly enough context to correctly navigate anything relating to canine culture.

Perhaps she could ask the fox more about his people...

Or would that only be opening up more avenues for-

She cut that thought off. Ugh. Why was she even thinking about this? They'd be separating before too long, each of them going back to their own people. After that they'd probably never see each other again.

The lioness stepped back into the shelter and knelt down, offloading the stones and shaking her arms out with a wince. She began to arrange the stones into a circle, thoughts muddling further with each effort she took to clear them.

After a moment she realized that she was bent over, just about on her hands and knees, rear pointed directly at the fox, who had abruptly stopped working on the spit.

She glanced back, just in time to catch the fox dive back into his work, face flaming. She started to grin, something teasing on her tongue, then hesitated. Went back to the fire ring and began to stack tinder within it, feeling conflicted once more.

She wanted to be lewd and lascivious with the fox, that was simply what she did with people...but if it was just gonna make him uncomfortable and introduce further difficulties into his life...

Ugh.

She turned back around to fetch her flint and steel. Saw that the fox had drawn his knees to his chest once more. The lioness couldn't keep herself from raising an eyebrow but said nothing. Hiding arousal in a loincloth had to be hell for a man.

"Aza?" The fox asked, voice tiny.

She looked over, to where the fox had abandoned his spit once more. He'd hunched slightly over and looked deeply conflicted, fiddling with the knife in his paws. His blush hadn't faded.

"Yeah?" She asked. It felt weird hearing the fox say her name, but she supposed that he deserved to know it.

"Could we...?" He swallowed hard, words failing, and set aside his knife, shifting his legs down. His loincloth had fallen to the side and the lioness couldn't suppress a greedy little shiver of erotic glee at the sight of his member, fully erect and bobbing slightly in place with each beat of the fox's heart.

But the ashamed, almost frightened look on his face froze those feelings where they were. The lioness took a breath.

"You doing okay?" She asked, sidling closer, moisture dripping from her fur.

The fox blinked, looking almost surprised.

"I..." He glanced from her down to his groin, then began to shift his loincloth back into place.

The lioness stopped him, putting her paw over his, grazing the scalding flesh of his member.

"Don't get me wrong," she said, putting her free paw under the fox's chin and turning his gaze to meet hers, "I want to. I just want to know that you're comfortable with it too."

There were tears sparkling in the corners of the fox's eyes, she realized, and he was trembling. She stayed still and patient, waiting for him to find his words.

"I don't know how I ought to feel," the fox said at last, "you're not my mate...you're not even my people...but I..." He shut his eyes. A tear cut a track into the fur on his cheek.

The lioness leaned in, almost before she was even consciously aware of what she was doing, and kissed the fox gently, guiding his lips to meet hers. It simply felt like the right thing to do.

For a long moment the two of them were silent, the fox's free paw moving up to the lioness' chest, under her damp shirt. But the gesture didn't feel explicitly sexual, his fingers played through her fur and he felt her heartbeat, thumping steadily away.

When they broke the kiss the fox looked almost dazed.

"It's okay," the lioness said softly, tracing the fox's face with one paw, stroking along one soft, fluttery ear, "everything's alright."

The fox took a breath.

"I want to." He said, and the lioness felt his paws drop to the waist of her pants. She leaned back, letting the fox shift them over her hips and then off of her entirely, settling onto her back, a tingle running through her as the fox's paws ran over her hips, hot breath playing on her inner thighs.

She spread her legs, giving him unimpeded access and shivered, letting out a long, slow breath as she felt his tongue play over her slit.

"Just like that." She breathed as he pushed his muzzle against her, tongue venturing deeper, a deep sort of satisfaction welling up within her.

The fox lapped and plunged and licked with an almost desperate sort of need, like he would fall entirely to pieces if he didn't do this immediately. His breath came fast and the lioness took a shivery breath, enjoying the added sensation of it, a reminder of the fox's lust.

In the back of her mind she wondered if this was solving anything but shoved that thought away. Not now...

The surrounding world seemed to blur away, replaced by its most prevalent sensations. She could feel the softness of moss under her back, hear the hiss of rain outside, smell slowly cooking venison and feel the warmth of the coals on the side of her face, but none of it seemed even half as present as what was happened to her at that very moment.

The fox's paws were still on her hips, clutching her close, like she would vanish if he let go. The lioness could feel his claws prickling her skin, almost hard enough to hurt, but offered no objection. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, a curious tingly sensation playing all over her as her face flushed and blood surged to her groin, to feed the overworked nerve endings flooding her body with an ever-growing cacophony of sensation.

It felt like the height of a lightning storm, muscles tensing and spasming, forcing a low, purring groan from her lips as her legs trembled and her toes curled, thighs nearly clamping on the fox's head before she restrained herself. No matter how badly she wanted to clutch the fox to herself as tightly as possible, she let him do as he wanted. And what he wanted as a pretty excellent job.

Then it was happening, an uncontrollable smile curling onto the lioness' face, the muscles in her stomach clenching, nearly hard enough to hurt. She arched her back, pushing her soaked pussy hard against the fox's tongue. He leaned into it, eyes half lidded, a look of near surprise on his face as he watched the lioness buck and groan and squeak, her climax searing through her like the passage of a comet across a night sky.

Then she was relaxing, muscles going slack, heart still hammering, her breathing jagged and uneven, beginning to slow.

The fox straightened up, paws coming to rest on her knees. The lioness regarded him lazily, eyes falling to his pre dripping cock. His muzzle was slicked with her juices and she crooked a finger at him, legs still spread.

The fox moved forward, positioning himself between her legs. She felt the hot tip of his cock slide into her, a jet of pre splashing into her, soaking her even further. His entrance was silken smooth, the walls of her hole gripping his member but doing little to stop it. The edge of his knot bumped against her entrance and the lioness took hold of the fox's paws, tugging him closer, his knot grinding against her, eliciting a gasp from the fox, who clutched himself to the lioness, hips beginning to thrust.

His motions were quick and tinged with a boundless lust that seemed to manifest in his gasps and groans and the hot spurts of pre that soaked her inner walls.

The lioness curled her legs against the fox's hips, a great feeling of pressure forming between her legs as his knot pushed harder and harder against her with each thrust. She hadn't managed to get it in last night, but now the heat and solidity seemed irresistible, she had to have it.

The fox looked at her and the lioness kissed him, hugging him close, almost tight enough to drive the breath from his body, but the fox's member jerked inside of her and she felt a little shiver roll through him.

She could taste herself on him, a bittersweet tang. He gasped into her mouth and she pushed her tongue in, dueling with his, trading moans and gasps and little noises that only added to the passion of the moment.

His knot slipped in a little further, then he backed his hips up and thrust again. For a long, elastic second her hole resisted, then the slippery walls caved and his knot pushed into her. The lioness jolted in place, grinding fiercely against the scalding ball of fox now lodged within her.

She had never felt fuller in her life, and still the fox continued to thrust with tiny little jerks of his hips, knot pushing back and forth, stretching her walls, raking sparks of indescribable pleasure from her stretched hole. Her legs shivered and she tugged them tight against the fox's rump, pushing him into her as deep as he could go.

He tensed, and suddenly she could feel his cock pulsing, seed shooting into her in hot, strong jets. He cried out and she silenced this with a kiss, shivering with pleasure, eyes slitted and fox clutched tightly to her. She could feel his heart against her chest, hers pounding in time. Their breathing even felt similar.

Slowly, as the hard edges of the pleasure she felt began to melt like spring snow, she relaxed her grip, arms falling to her side. The fox stayed where he was, collapsed on top of her, utterly spent. His eyes were half open and the lioness could feel a few residual spurts of fox seed staining her insides.

She adjusted her hips slightly, smiling faintly at the liquid warmth nestled in the center of her. She'd been filled, and it was locked within her for the time being. That felt nice. She wondered how long it would take for the fox's knot to shrink and decided she wouldn't mind if it were a long wait. This position was pleasant, and being tied together like this was a new sensation.

The lioness stroked a paw along the fox's back, letting herself catch her breath. She felt spent, like a whole day's worth of energy had been exploded from her in one great big burst of passion. The fox looked to be in similar straits.

He adjusted himself slightly, laying his muzzle between her tiny breasts.

"I love you." He murmured.

The lioness blinked. Did he mean...?

"Lewis?" She asked, keeping her voice light and casual, ignoring the uneasy feeling beginning to percolate in the pit of her stomach, "how long does it take for your knot to, uh...go away?"

"Not too long," the fox said, blinking and offering her a nervous smile, "maybe a half hour." He glanced away, seeming to realize what he'd said.

"Hmm." The lioness said.

They were silent for a long moment, the lioness continuing the stroke her paws through the soft fur on the fox's back. But her motions were distracted. Though the fox was close, he felt distant.

After another silent eternity, she took a breath.

"What did you mean?" She asked.

The fox was silent for a long moment. The lioness watched his eyes dart back and forth. He looked horribly nervous. Finally he met her gaze.

"I like you," he said, voice staying even, albeit barely, "and...I...I know it wouldn't work, but I just had to say it."

The lioness had to look away, the expression on the fox's face was too earnest. She tried to gauge her feelings but found that she couldn't, they didn't seem to make any sort of sense. She didn't feel upset with the fox for saying that, but neither did she feel happy or sad or...

"Are you just saying that because you want to stay true to your people?" She asked.

The fox blinked.

"What?" He asked, earnest expression collapsing into confusion.

"You have to have a mate to have guilt free sex, right?" She asked, "is this you trying to hold true to that?"

The fox opened his mouth, then slowly shut it again. He looked conflicted, ashamed and horrified all at once. He straightened up, pulling out of the lioness' loose grip.

"I don't know," he said at last, eyes drifting down to where his knot was still lodged inside of her, "forget I said that."

All of the pleasure seemed to have gone out of the situation. The lioness shifted and chewed the inside of her cheek. Should she have said that?

A part of her felt guilty for even airing her suspicions, but what else could she have said? A person she'd known for less than a day was saying he loved her, that felt...scary.

"Lewis?" She asked.

The fox glanced silently up.

"It's not that I don't like you," she started, tripping over her words, "I just..." She trailed off, was unsure how to proceed.

"I think you were right," the fox said quietly, "I was...I mean, this is new. All of this. I'm not supposed to be...doing this." His gaze dropped again to where they were tied. "It's just...I know it's wrong, but it feels good, and I like being with you. You're strong and brave and kinda scary and...um..." He blushed hard. "...And I like the sex. A lot." These last few words were delivered in a much quieter voice.

"Kinda scary?" The lioness raised an eyebrow, slightly amused.

"Well...I sorta thought you were gonna kill me for the first hour or so after we met."

The lioness felt a little smile creep across her face. Then she sighed.

"Sex isn't bad," she said, "there's nothing wrong with it...no matter what anyone tells you. Just so long as everyone's having fun. And, I mean...I had fun. You might have noticed me cumming my brains out once or twice back there." She managed to smile.

The fox shifted between her legs, the movement of his knot eliciting a little tingle that ran through the length of her body. Her face flushed slightly beneath her fur and the lioness was sure the fox noticed the little catch in her breathing.

"I liked doing that," he said, "and I liked," his eyes flashed down to their pressed together hips, "...uh, yeah. I'm just...I guess I'm scared. That's all."

"Don't be." The lioness said.

The fox didn't seem to hear her.

"And...I...I know I asked this before, but...does all of this mean something? I mean, I know we're not mates...that wouldn't work...but we're...friends, right?"

The lioness was silent for a moment. She wanted to divert, to draw the subject away to something else. There was a terrible sort of fear in the center of herself. Surely it wouldn't be wise to get involved with this canine in any sense beyond the purely casual. Surely she wouldn't-

Sitting up, she kissed the fox, lips ever so gentle against his.

"Friends." She agreed as she broke the kiss, surprising herself with how easily she said it.

They smiled, both looking quite nervous, but also, somehow, relieved.