Puppeteer
Meeting Sorr'an
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Meeting Sorr'anDistant noises disturbed my sleep. It
only took a moment to recognize my surroundings before I heard the sound of
people running through the forest, the rustling of feet on dried twigs and
leaves coming nearer my position. I caught sight of a single person moving
almost silently through the shrubbery, their movements fluid and graceful.
It was early dawn and few sunrays filtered through the treetops, painting the
scene in shades of gray. I cast a little spell an old friend had taught me some
time ago. It improves my eyes’ sensitivity to light, so that I’m able to perceive
shapes better in the twilight. Before I could catch another glimpse at the
person running, five other guys were crashing through the underbrush. They moved
clumsily compared to the fugitive, and were partially armored and carry weapons.
I strained my eyes and saw they were all tattooed but even with my little magic
trick the light wasn’t bright enough to see anything clear. They reached a glade and one
took a crossbow from his back and aimed. Before the refugee could reach the
protective trees again, a crossbow bolts pierced through their left shoulder,
making them stumble and fall to the ground. Four warriors secured the area while
one approached their victim. Seemed they had at least some sort of military
training.
The wounded one turned around and scrambled
back. Something was swishing over the leafy ground. It took me a moments
until I processed what I saw – a tail! I blinked, but before I could dwell on
that thought the attacker raised his sword and swung the blade down. A scream
filled the air. The swordsman leaned
down, picked up the bloody part of the tail he cut off and laughed somewhat
gruesomely, while the cat-being hunched backwards.
marksman. It was difficult to aim right from my position but when I thought I pointed
the sharp bolt in the right direction I let him pull the trigger. Just in
time, because the one standing over the cat-human was preparing another blow
when the arrow hit his back, the arrowhead peeking out of his chest. Hurriedly
I tried to reload the crossbow, hoping they were confused enough to let me have
one more shot. It seemed the Gods were with me for a
moment but just before I could finish the preparation I heard the dreaded scream.
“Magic!”
'Crap, they’re good. Well, you may know that someone is working its
magic here but it won’t help you.' That’s what I thought till the one who shouted
reached into a pouch hanging from his belt and threw a handful of sand into the
air. The grainy mass floated over the clearing, slowly sinking to the ground.
When it reached the string of flaring magic that connected me with the marksman,
it clung to it and started to shimmer. Suddenly my power got drained from my
body and I felt a numbing pain crawling up my arms. I cut the cords and gasped
involuntary at the sharp ache, hoping they didn’t spot me. But it was too late; I
could see the guy who threw the sand giving a hand sign to two fellows and then pointed
in my direction.
'Holy Father Neralos and his shitty brood, what
am I doing, getting myself into this kind of situation? Well, no time to
dwell on this now, I have to get out of here.' I saw that the cat-being
had taken its chance and had risen to their feet, sprinting into the forest,
immediately followed by the other two who were not after me. This reminded me to
get my ass in gear. I turned and ran along the broad branch that was angled
towards the ground but stoped about one and a half meter above it.
I won’t be able to take over one of these
guys now that they were coated with anti magic sand. So, good old hand-to-hand
combat it is. When the wood got too thin to walk on I jumped and grabbed a low
hanging spray to swing to the ground, the old, crusty and rough bark cutting
into my palm, making me almost lose my grip.
I landed and rolled off in a nimble motion and
stopped behind a trunk, panting slightly and waiting for an enemy that I could hear nearing
my position. When the rustling was close, I got two daggers out
of their sheaths. When the guy passed me I stabbed one dirk through the flesh of
his cheek and drew the other one over his face, leaving a bloody track. He
screeched and turned, let go of his broad sword, one hand clutching to his face
while my dagger slid over the lower half of his chain hood which protected his
neck. Damn, no way to cut his throat. His free, gauntlet-clothed hand connected
painfully with my chest, the blow sending me backwards, stumbling.
sword and attacked me. He struck his sword in wide curves and I ducked under the
first two assaults and then saw an opening. I diveed under the next swing but
instead of backing away I stepped towards him. Unexpectedly his left
hand struck at me, hitting me on my hip. I tripped, but managed to kick his legs out
from under him and got in a kneeling position. He fell towards me and I raised
my right hand, thrusting my long-bladed dagger into his face, through his right
eye. He cried out and I added extra pressure to get as deep as possible. With a scrunching sound I crushed
his eye socket and after one last seizure, he laid still, half on me, his torso hanging over my right shoulder.
He was heavy because of his armor and tall stature. I had to
free myself soon because there was another man out there.
I started to roll him off when I spotted the
other, smaller and less armored man. Actually, he was without any
visible armor and his narrow face, small frame and pale skin told me he was a
Randalor. Randalor is a human steppe nation, whose people hate armor, because they think it
confines their soul. But that doesn’t make them any less dangerous, because
they are agile and fast. He was practically
flying towards me, a short sword in his right hand and the left one dug into a
pouch. I doubled my efforts to get the corpse off of me and finally I
succeeded, but by now my enemy was within reach and threw sand from his pouch at
me. I tried to roll away, but hit a tree trunk with my back.
Some anti magic dust was covering my right
hand and arm and a numbing tingle started to slowly creep through my body. I tried
to throw a dirk at my enemy with my left arm but missed.
The small bandit stepped closer with a few easy strides, a wide smirk
spreading over his face as he swiftly hit me on my temple with the butt of
his short blade. My vision got blurry and my opponent’s following words sounded
like they went through cotton wool.
painfully; just like your kind deserves.” He lifted his arm to strike a blow
and I weakly raised my arms to provide a little protection.
Suddenly a roaring creature dashed down
a low hanging branch and knocked the black dressed man over with the power of
the impact. I stared in awe as the wild beast started to literally tear the slim Randalor
apart, who had dropped his sword and tried to kick the attacker off him, but to
no avail. Sharp claws and fangs were scratching at flesh, ripping it
open, leaving the raw meat exposed to the air, blood flowing
onto the forest ground. A vicious slice over the throat ended the screaming and
after some last twitches the man laid still. A low growl emitted the creature on
top of the still bleeding corpse when he pulled his teeth from the forehead
of the man, blood dripping down his chin and claws.
A motion caught my attention and I saw a tail
at the backside of the beast – and the last third was missing, some droplets of
blood dribbling out from time to time. Realization dawned upon me. The cat-being
from earlier! This wild thing was the refugee that got shot and started
that whole mess. A quick look to his left shoulder proved it. I could see the
crossbow bolt still sticking in it, the sharp end jutting out of it. I could only
assume it was still bleeding because its body was covered in blood and most
of it belonged to the bandit he was crouched over.
It crawled towards me and I didn’t know if it
wanted to kill me, too, but my body was almost completely paralyzed by now so I
couldn’t do a thing about it. It reached towards me and looked into my eyes. Its
own were deep blue with sprinkles of a rich green, as if little emeralds were
embedded into them. I’d call them beautiful if it wasn’t for the animalistic,
wild and brute gaze. But it made them most captivating and I could only stare
back. The spell was broken when it started to sniff me and its spiky blond hair,
which was adorned with black tips, tickled me. I lifted an eyebrow at the… well…
unexpected behavior, though I wouldn’t call it unpleasant. Abruptly it stood
up with legs apart and looked down at me with a weird expression written over
its face. The cat-human then reached into its pants and my eyes went wide as it
pulled out his dick and… started pissing on me.
hell…” was all I could mumble before he shook his cock and put it away. What
was he trying to do?! Using me as a latrine? Humiliate me? 'Just wait, you
asshole, when I can move again I'll show you! You’ll drink my piss!'
I fumed inwardly when the paralysis started
suddenly to wear off and after 20 seconds a quickly fading numbness was all
that was left. 'Now I’ll show that little idiot.' I got up and the
not-so-housebroken cat took a step back when a thought struck me. Normally it
took hours, sometimes days for magic dust to lose its power – if it wasn’t
washed off. Well, obviously it also works with pissing it off. At least now I
knew his gender. I muttered a “Thank you.” when he grabbed my arm and
dragged me impatiently behind him. Moments later I heard shouting and
cracking wood. Seemed he didn’t kill his pursuers. I started to run and he did
the same – let's just go as far as possible and as fast as possible away from
here.
Five hours later around noon we stopped by a small stream, to rest a little,
drink some water and to wash body fluids off of us. I was glad to
do so because he might not be human but his urine stank just like human’s. Ewww…
I remembered stories about a race of people that looked
like a mixture of cats and humans, living in the far south-east, while
I watched the catboy standing with his back to me as he discarded his worn out and
damaged clothes.
Not shy about his body that was for sure. And he definitely had
no reason to be it. Shorter than me, perhaps one meter and sixty-five
centimeter, the top of his head reaching my mouth. Cooper bronzed skin from
his neck to his feet, flawless as far as I could see, except for the arrow wound.
Not broad shoulders nor skinny, an elegant curve of his back, his spine visible
but framed by slender muscles. His tailbone melted into his tail, the
blue-black fur slightly straightened up, due to tension and alertness, I guessed.
My eyes shifted lower to narrow hips and I beheld sight of what must be the greatest ass of the
whole world. 'No, “ass” is a too impure word for that masterpiece.' It
looked supple yet taut and firm, clearly begging me to touch it. I quickly looked
further down to avoid any rash actions but his strong thighs and calves were
doing nothing to cool me down. I was drooling by now and had to swallow
quickly to not make a complete idiot out of myself. Perhaps I should not ogle
my life-saver that shamelessly. Than again, I saved his life first, so I thought
it was okay.
I grinned a little and gave him a once over
again when he suddenly sprinted into the water and took a splash into a deeper
spot. When the catboy resurfaced he yelped and… squeaked. I lifted an eyebrow somewhat confused.
He frantically scrubbed the dirt, sweat and blood off
his body and then ran back to the bank, grabbing his clothes. He quickly
washes them clean, holding them in front of his body while he passed me,
shaking his head and body to get rid of the water. The whole incident couldn’t
have taken longer then 30 seconds. I suddenly had to laugh – it seemed that he
really had cat genes in him, not liking water. He glared at me, baring his
fangs. I grinned back, finding it oddly adorable.
While he retreated to the edge of the forest
and plopped down on a patch of grass I undressed and got into the small river,
taking my time to get clean. The water was not really warm but it was summer and
the sun shone brightly so I could enjoy the bath. I checked my body for injuries
and found two large bruises, one on my hip, one on my chest, and some scratches on
my hand. When I touched my left temple I twitched and winced. That little Randolian
bastard! I remembered what happened to him and I glanced at my companion
who was taking a sunbath, air-drying in the midday sun.
Okay, he might be adorable but I should definitely try to stay
on his good site. Yep, that was the best thing to do. I finished washing myself and
then cleaned my clothes.
When I stepped out of the water and made my
way to the catboy I saw he was already dressed in his pants. I admired his
flat stomach for some moments, raising my gaze with a little smirk that froze
when I saw why he hadn’t put on his shirt. The crossbow bolt still stuck in
his shoulder and there wee two cuts on his other shoulder and a small one on
his jaw line. Shit, we had to tend to them and remove the bolt
fast, before he got gangrene. I cautiously kneeled besides him and lifted my
hands, palms facing towards him, and then reached into the inner pocket of my
vest. My hand vanished and I felt around a big space. When my forearm vanished
halfway, I got a suspicious glance from the catboy. I smiled a little and tried to
explain it to him.
magician and well, actually he told me how it worked. Lots of time-space
shifting and nutshells outside the normal three dimensional stream, blablablubb…
He’s great at things like that, though he tends to talk too much about it,
instead of just getting it done. So no worry, it’s just a little magic.
These things are great. It’s not like you can deposit a sword or horse or house
in it, but some helpful little things.” I tried a reassuring smile, hoping that
magic wouldn’t freak him out when he replied.“Assurg?” I stopped in my motions and
blinked.“Pardon?“ He furrowed his brows, looking interrogatively at me.“Assurge tes
sadar?” Great, it was obvious he didn’t speak my language and I didn’t even recognize
his.
I resumed the search in my pocket and found
the bottle I was looking for. I pulled it out with some strips of cloth and showed
it to him. “See, disinfectant. It will hurt a little, but we need to apply it
so your wounds won’t get infected.” He still wore a confused look on his face, so I
just uncorked the bottle and applied some of its content on a rag and gently started
working on one cut on his right shoulder. A sudden hiss was my only warning and
I barely evaded the claw that swung at my arm. A low growl was emitting his
throat and he skidded away some centimeters. “Well cutie, I know it hurts but
take it like a man, will you?” The growl intensified some. Okay, he wouldn’t.
I put the ointment away – for the time
being. I then pointed to myself. “My name’s Niven.” The boy stops growling and
tilted his head, looking puzzled. I put my hand on my chest and repeat. “Niven.”
After two more tries he got it and pointed to me. “Niven?” I smiled and repeated
it for him. “Niven!” A small smile graced his lips and I took a moment to
actually study his face.
with slit pupils, high cheek bones and a small, lightly pointed nose. Soft,
hairless cheeks and smooth lips, a fang visible, gently worrying his lower lip.
His eyebrows were slim, lightly bushy and curving upwards. And then I saw them. His hair was a
little flat against his head because it was still damp from his… short dip into
the river. Triangular, soft furred ears on top of his head are pointing into
the sky. Pitch black at the base and blue black at the top, adorned with fine,
long hair at the tip and inside. They just invited me to touch them and I subconsciously raised my
right arm. And then I realized it. I was behaving like a love-stricken teenager! Sure,
he looked cute, captivating, delectable, sexy… No! Not again! I groaned mentally.
Okay, he was good looking but that didn’t mean anything. 'So, help him, get out
of the trouble and then go your own way.'
After that was decided, I used my already
half-raised hand to point at him. After a smile and an inquiring look from me
he says: “Sorr’an.”
I blinked at the rough, somewhat guttural sound. “Soran?” I
tried it myself.
He shook his head and repeated it. “So-rr-an.” The “r” he made was
a strange mixture of low rattle a in his throat and a vibrating roll of his
tongue.
I tried again but have to stop because I almost started to cough. He looked
strangely at me and I tried again. “Sorran.”
He smiled and repeated it again.
“Sorr’an!”
I took a breath. “Sorr’an.”
“Xandarr’ah!” he exclaimed happily, nodded
and pointed with his index finger to me. “Niven!” And then the digit was directed
to his chest. “Sorr’an!”
His smile was contagious and I had to
return it, then took the disinfectant into my hand. In an instant the cheerful
expression vanished from his face, the growl was back and he bared his teeth at
me. Ooookay… “Look Sorr’an…”, the name was still causing me trouble, “we need to
sanitize your wounds…” No change in reaction. Well, this needed a new tactic. I
took the soaked piece of cloth and rubbed it over a scratch on the back of my
hand. It stung, but I did it again, showing it to Sorr’an. He squinted his eyes
and leaned forward, sniffing my hand and snapped back, scrunching his nose. “I
know, but Sorr’an, we have to do it.” Again I wiped the cloth over my scratch.
The skin started to get irritated, the sting getting painful. 'Why am I doing
this? He wants to die of gangrene or tetanus – fine, what do I care?'
He then laid down on the grass and presented
me his shoulder. Well, seemed my demonstration helped a little. Good for him, I
would have stopped the next moment. Right? Right! I took a new strip of cloth
and saturated it with the opaque liquid. I gently dabbed the first cut. He hissed and
twitched once but then he kept still. I disinfected both gashes on his shoulder
and with a new tissue I tended to the small cut on his jaw. Well, that was the
easy part. “Sorr’an?” I tried to get his attention and then pointed to the bolt in
his other shoulder, making a pulling motion. He sighed and nodded. I carefully put
his shirt under his back and pushed his shoulder down. He yelped and pulled a
grimace, then swatted at my hand, turned and searched the ground. Sorr’an grabbed a
stick and put it between his teeth while he laid down again, looking at me. I
nodded and held his shoulder down, grabbing the bolt under its head and jerked it
out.
There was a cracking sound as Sorr’an bit
through the piece of wood and sliced his lower lip, though it didn’t look too
bad. I inspected the damaged area but couldn’t find any splinters of timber that
stuck into the flesh and I couldn’t smell anything foul. A little trickle of
blood is coming from the puncture. Sorr’an coughed and spat out pieces of wood and
I reached for the ointment but the catboy caught my hand and shook his head
vigorously. “Sorr’an…” I tried to soothe him but his claws penetrated my skin.
'Okay, okay, I get your point cutie.'
I set the bottle down and wanted to wrap his
shirt around the wound when he took my hand and peered into my eyes. 'Well, now
you’ve got me confused, catboy.' He lifted my hand to his mouth and I stared in
awe and shock, when the boy started to lick my fingers. That was… definitely not
what I expected. Sorr’an intensified his gaze and pointedly licked along a long
scratch in the palm of my hand. “Sorr’an…” was my confused comment and he rolled
his eyes at me, made a licking motion with his long tongue and pointed at me.
He said: “Niven!” and pokes his index finger into my chest, then glided his
tongue along that mark in my palm and then indicated to his wound, saying: “Meo!
Sorr’an!”
My eyes went as wide as saucers when my mind
processed what he wanted. I lifted an eyebrow and hastily retreated my hand from
his. “Whoa, hold on kitty. I don’t have anything against licking. No, not at
all! But first we’re not exactly a couple and second I don’t
lick anyone’s bloody wounds not even those of delicious catboys like you.” I
babbled along when Sorr’an sighed and started to lavish my hand with his saliva,
his velvety tongue made me fall silent. After some moments he drew it back and
then spat into the hollow of my palm and pushed it into the direction of his gash.
'Well, I can do this, kitten.' I gently rubbed the spittle on the edge of the injury
and let some of the liquid drip into the opening. Sorr’an nodded and when I was
done I wrapped his shirt around his shoulder, careful to not apply too much
pressure. “Okay, that’s good, Sorr’an?” The more I said his name the easier
it slipped off my tongue and it has a nice sound to it. He looked up and blinked,
so I just smiled and he returned it.
Okay, I think we should get going. The farther away from any possible pursurer, the better!
I got to my feet and helped Sorr’an up and we were on our way.
Around dusk we stopped for the night. Actually
I would have walked another two or three hours but Sorr’an’s condition worsened.
His eyes were dull and his graceful movements went sluggish. He plopped
down at the base of a tree, his breath heavy. It worried me more than it should
have, but first things first. I crouched beside him and removed the improvised
bandage. The puncture didn’t look bad, no purulence and no inflammation. But
his skin is burning, he was much hotter then he has been when I attended his injuries,
and he has been sitting in the sun then.
“Hey Sorr’an, you think you can climb up
this tree? You know, don’t want wild animals nibbling at you during the night.”
I smirked. “Actually I’d like to do some nibbling myself…” I looked at his trembling form. “But I think
you’re not in the right condition, hmm little guy?” He looked at me with drowsy
eyes and then rested his head against the trunk and his eyelids fluttered shut. I
sighed and then draped my cape over his body. It seemed like I would have to take
both watches.
'Oh boy, so much for parting as fast as possible from this catboy…'
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