Page 55 of Whisper Woods

The landscape flows naturally to the east, beginning with a natural border that has formed between the land the dragon's call home and the farms. Greener and more lush than the grasslands beside it, the narrow piece of land stretches from the cliffs, all the way to the northern borders of Tathys. The area is largely avoided due to its distance from the city and proximity to the dragon herd, despite it being the home of the original altar of the Orun.

Five stone pillars representing the Gods stand tall over the cliff's edge, the stone altar still sitting before them. The land itself is still a site of incredible power, but as the stories in our history books go, after the sacrifice was held there on the cliffs, the beings of Tathys found themselves unwilling to go to the altar for worship. As such, the temple of the Orun was built in the town square, opposite the palace, and the ancient altar was mostly forgotten.

The green of the border flows into the farmland—the squares of variating colours like a patchwork blanket on the low rolling hillscape. Shades of greens and yellows, with patches of purple and red, and even a vivid bold pink mark the different crops we rely on in Tathys—for magic, for survival, and for trade. Roads wind their way through the patches, like thread sewing together the seams, tying the land together.

From this distance, Tathys is still a beauty. The warm stone of the buildings looks dramatic in the light of the rising sun. The golden domes atop our buildings give off a wondrous glow, bathing the city in a lustrous haze.

Seff’s hand brushes mine until our fingers tangle together. His grip is tight, and I squeeze back reassuringly.

“You know, I kind of didn’t believe you,” he half laughs, running his hand through his hair. I can feel his itching need to move, and not just the subtle shifting of his leg beside me. His eyes flick to mine for only a moment before he casts his gaze back out over the view before him. “Not that I didn’t believe you. But like, it was too insane. A part of me just thought...” He rushes his words, desperate to explain. I squeeze his hand once again and he relaxes, his shoulder dropping from its tense position near his ear to lean into me.

“I understand, Seff. It is one thing toknow. It is another to comprehend.”

“Kinda like Tathys, right?” My brow furrows and I turn to look at him again.

“What do you mean?”

He sweeps an arm wide, to indicate the beings of my city. “You guysknewthe prophecy said you had to rejoin the Mundane or whatever. But now the time’s here, you’re all struggling to wrap your head around it.”

Huh. Seff really does have a rather artful way of simplifying things. I stare at him for a moment, and he raises an eyebrow, his confidence in his assessment diminishing somewhat.

“You’re right.” I reassure him, and the smile he beams at me almost brings me to my knees.

The familiar thunder of hooves in the distance brings me back to reality all too quickly. Seff hears it too, judging by the way his body loses its relaxed stance. He tenses, attempting to move in front of me protectively—despite thecomplete lack of danger. And the fact he is completely naked.

“It’s okay, Seff. It will be Brydon. He’s expecting me.” I place a hand on his arm and ease him around so he’s standing behind me. Really, I should have tried harder to convince him to put on pants. But my selfishness ultimately won out.

And sure enough, I catch the sight of Brydon's shocking blue hair as he barrels up the hill on his horse, Rickets. He insisted on using a Mundane name he’d seen in a book. Unfortunately, he learned the meaning of the wordafterthe name had stuck. My horse, Nimra, runs beside them.

I don’t ride all too often, preferring to run in my other form, but horses are a status symbol in Tathys, and a being in my position cannot very well be without one. Especially one as beautiful as Nimra, with his shining cinnamon coloured coat and rich black mane and tail. Rickets is his brother, but his coat is a rather more bold cream with cinnamon-brown splotches. He suits Brydon to perfection.

“Well,hello.” Brydon smirks, pulling up to a halt at the last possible moment, forcing me and Seff to take a rushed step back. Nimra shows far more sensibility, slowing to a trot and idling up to nose at me in greeting. Brydon eyeballs Sefffartoo closely, raking his black eyes all over my Seff in an over the top lecherous manner.

I roll my eyes at his antics and give Nimra’s snout a generous scratch.

“Enough, Brydon.” Seff is a bundle of anxious energy behind me. “Brydon, this is Seff, my contact from the Mundane.” I stumble over the word, unable to encompass everything that is Seff and our relationship.

My choice, though, is a mistake. Seff bristles, and his hand stills on Nimra’s neck where he’d begun to give him a pat. Brydon scoffs loudly, rolling his eyes, flipping his hair out of his eyes. Leaning over Rickets to scratch his neck, he doesn’t hesitate to call out my misstep.

“Contact. Pull the other one, Rafe.” He mumbles something about me being a bonehead under his breath, continuing to scratch at Rickets. At least he has managed to break the tension with Seff, who has begun stroking Nimra again, significantly more at ease. He even manages to chuckle softly at Brydon, who is now baby-talking to his horse about me being an idiot.

“Right,” I grunt, attempting to seize back a little control and dignity. I take a half a step towards Nimra, meaning to mount him, but remember at the last moment justhownaked Seff is behind me.

Running across a naked shifter in the Woods is one thing. But even I know it is unacceptable in the Mundane cities to wander around naked post-change. That, and not my awful burning possessive jealousy at others seeing him naked, is the only reason I turn to face him.

“It’s probably best that you change before we leave.”

He is still somewhat stony towards me. He crosses his arms over his big chest to stare me down, and I try to not get distracted by the way it makes his large muscles flex. I do let my eyes drop to his half hard cock and back up to make my point.

He contemplates the alternatives, I can see the defiant little tick in his jaw while he thinks through, before he caves with a big sigh, rolling his eyes and unfolding his body.

“Ugh, fine.” He gives Nimra one last pat and the air shimmers around him, the magic reworking his existence until the golden-grey wolf is sitting in front of me, tail wagging gently.

Wolf-Seff barks a yappy kind of bark and bumps his head into my hand for a pat. Brydon watches on a little too intently, like we are the most interesting thing he’s witnessed—which cannot be true in the least. I ignore him, and his staring, while I mount Nimra. He easily settles under my weight, holding still while I settle.

“Do not say a word. We need to get moving.” I jab a claw in Brydon's direction when I see him open his mouth. He smirks, smothering his laugh when he holds up his hands in surrender.

“Wasn’t gonna say a word, Boss. Lead the way.”

---