Page 64 of Feral Guardian
I still feel hollow. I still feel need.
The need to fill her and claim her as mine.
She is notmine. She is my princess. My queen. My ward. Notmine.
I sigh and relish the last sensations of her body. Her soft cunt and her thick hips. Gods, why am I thinking of her like this? I wish I wouldn’t. I wish this obsession would end.
The tent flap whips open and Lily emerges, dressed in fresh clothing. She must’ve used her magic to transfigure what had been left behind from my rough removal.
Lily looks left, then right, and finds the cookfire. She moves over to it and begins building up the thicker, waterlogged cuts of wood into a pyramid. With a flourish of her green magic, she pulls thewater from the slabs of firewood and then snaps with a flick of her wrist to light a fire. Sparks crackle in the thin tinder, then take to the logs immediately, and she smiles to herself.
I recognize the movements her arms and hands made through those changes. They were Gaien and Eyzanth rune shapes. Wielding runes like that in midair, with nothing to carve them into, only proves her strength. Her control has grown tenfold.
Her power has grown even more.
I don’t know if she would’ve changed so much in my presence. Perhaps it was best she sent me away, because look at her. She can start a fire with the snap of her fingers. She can flick her wrist and create gold. She can transform her womanhood into a weapon and save herself. She can control the wilds and subdue a giant demon bear with a bush.
She is a fucking wonder.
My warrior queen.
It makes me want her even more.
The gobble of a turkey pulls me from my thoughts, and I stuff my dick back in my pants. That fucker is somewhere nearby, and Lily is going to have him for breakfast.
I tune my demon senses, letting it take over my eyes, ears, and nose. The light sharpens, and even the tiniest movements are easy for me to identify. I hear the padding of clawed feet over dirt and move in that direction. I inhale deeply and the gamey scent of the birds draws me farther to the left. I follow until I spot them through the trees. Six of the massive fuckers, plucking at a berry bush.
With as much stealth as my large body offers, I move around the trees until I’m close to the berry bush. I will bring itandthe turkey back for Lily so she may have something sweetwith her meat.
That thought has molten desire swirling in my gut, but I ignore it. Fucking unwanted thoughts.Mymeat is not what I am bringing back to her.
One of the turkeys ventures too close to where I lie in wait. I lunge forward, capturing it by the neck. I shake it hard and crush its esophagus, killing the creature as swiftly as I can.
The other turkeys complain and run for the trees on the other side. Good. I didn’t want to have to kill all of them. Turkeys can be mean, and I would not endure their punishment as I brought Lily back her kill.
I reach into the berry bush and grab it by the stem, then pull, removing most of it in a single jerk. It’s more berries than she needs, but we can save them as well. Maybe she can craft a lid for one of our cups and keep a jam inside. Berry jam would be nice if we had bread.
I walk back to camp, happy with my turkey and berry bush haul. Lily straightens up when she sees me, and I hold my kills up to show her. She claps excitedly, her normal demeanor returned.
Had she been sad this whole time from lack of release? I had told her not to masturbate in the tent with me. Maybe she needs to come more often to be happy? We have been apart a long time. I had never considered her needs may have changed when she became a woman…
I hand Lily the bush I’d less than elegantly ripped from the ground. She gets to work plucking the berries into a bowl she makes from the leaves while I pluck the bird. When it’s cleaned, I chop the turkey into sections and gut it. Lily watches with fascination, and I show her the parts of the animal we can safely eat.
I remove the heart, liver, kidneys, and lungs, dropping them in the stone cups she made for safekeeping. We use the blood of the beast to rune-ward the firepit with Morgha’s fortitude and Vexune’sprosperity, allowing its spoils to increase our strength and stamina for the coming day.
She crushes some berries in a stone pestle, and I smear the meat with the jam before liberally seasoning her cut with my dwindling spices. Once I have them skewered, she gets to work removing the water from the tent, all with simple air gestures of runic script.
“How do you do that?” I ask.
She grins. “Rune-write in the air?”
I nod and turn the meat.
“Are you going to be a good student and let me teach you?”
I scowl at her. “When have I ever not?”
“Since forever.” She cocks out her hip and flicks some water at my face.
