Male satyr x female reader (Kieran) - Part Three (nsfw) (Patreon)

Whoop! Here's nearly 6500 words of Part Three! We recover, and get close enough to wake something in Kieran that's been dormant for a little while... And finally, we make it to the herd's wintering grounds. 

As a brief note, you may have seen on Tumblr that I needed a name for otter-bodied 'taurs', and since 'lutrinae' is the name for the sub-family to which otters belong, I dubbed otter-taurs 'lutritaurs'. They feature very briefly in this part. I have plans for a Part Four, which will feature a minotaur boy, a female gnoll, and the adorable family of lutritaurs. Hope you're keen and enjoying the story so far. Thank you a million times to those of you who have liked/commented - it means the world to have you engaging with the content I put up here, I can't even begin to tell you. Enough waffle. Here it is:

Your strength returned to you, and soon you were able to sit up.

Rose had apparently come to your tent every day since you’d fallen unconscious, and a couple of the other scouts had driven the slavers’ wagon back to the edge of the forest, by chance meeting up with a group of centaurs on the way, who had immediately agreed to go with them to make sure the humans caused no trouble. Kieran’s mother brought you tea and thanked you quietly for saving her boy, and for what you did for little Rose. You blushed and told her it was what any human with a heart would have done, and that you were sorry people like that existed. It really did make your heart hurt to think of your own kind being so unspeakably cruel to these creatures who only wanted to live in peace in the forest. The slavers would be turned over to the proper authorities, and hopefully, they wouldn’t see the light of day again…

One afternoon, perhaps three or four days after the incident, you were sitting with your back against a tree and watching little butterflies dancing across the sunbeams of the clearing, when Rose was finally allowed by Robin to come and see you. She flung herself tearfully into your lap and sobbed heartily. “Thank you!” she sniffled over and over. “You saved me, and you made my lungs work again!” 

You looked up over the tangle of her wild, white-blonde hair, and happened to catch sight of Kieran watching you from the shade beside a spring in the corner of the glade. He seemed to be sharpening new arrowheads on a little whetstone. He was alone, as he so often was, and when Rose glanced up to see where your attention had wandered off to, she giggled and whispered, “Kieran hasn’t left your side since you fell,” she hissed conspiratorially. She turned more thoughtful a heartbeat later, and more than a little sad, and added, “He’s always on his own. He likes me though. You know, last year he taught me how to hold a bow properly, but I’m not strong enough really. He still helped me and I even hit the target! He’s nice.”

“He is,” you agreed, imagining him quietly helping her, and feeling warmth blossom inside your chest. 

“You should go and talk to him,” she said, brushing the smudges of tears from her cheeks and standing up. Her short, fluffy tail wiggled happily, and you laughed. 

“I’ll do as you say, Rose,” you smiled. “Give me a hand up?” you asked, and she tugged you playfully to your feet. 

A short wave of giddiness washed through you while she capered about you, oblivious, but once it had passed, you saw that Kieran had stiffened. He had not moved from his boulder by the spring, but still, there was an alertness to the lines of his taut, muscular body that spoke of a readiness to spring to his feet which sent a strange kind of thrill through you. For all his gruffness, he had a good heart, and, heavens help you, you were falling for his silent charms. 

“Thanks, Rose,” you said. “Will you save me a spot at dinner tonight?” you asked, and she nodded vehemently. “Great. See you then.” 

She hugged you one final time, her busy tail wiggling furiously still, and then scampered off to gather the last of the rosehips with Robin to dry out and use for tea later in the winter. 

As you approached Kieran, he set down his latest arrowhead and looked up at you with his glittering, dark eyes. His fingers were blackened from sharpening the arrowheads, and the expression on his face bordered on awkward, like a stable boy approached unexpectedly by a princess. You had to smile. 

You took a deep breath. “Rose says you kept watch over me while I was out of it,” you said bashfully, and he nodded once. You had to admire the way his muscular thighs looked as he sat on the boulder, and the way his shiny hooves glimmered, side by side, stacked demurely, almost neatly. “Thank you, Kieran. I know you don’t have much reason to like humans, but… it means a lot to me that you took care of me.”

He leaned over to rinse his dirty hands off in the water, as much for something to do as to clean them you suspected. After a long moment, he placed his rough, knuckly, scarred hands on the stone, one on either side of his thighs as though he were about to push himself to his feet. He did not rise, however. The water of the little pool bubbled up, clear and clean and cold through the earth, and he bowed his head. “You saved my life,” he said gruffly. “Twice.”

You glanced at the patch of grass beside his hooves and asked, “May I sit?”

He cast you a very quick glance and nodded, returning his black eyes to the little spring. He stayed seated on the rock beside the water, breathing quietly for a long time.

When he made no move nor said nothing more, you swallowed nervously and reached out for his leg. Laying your fingers down on his thigh, you were startled by just how soft his jet black pelt was, and couldn’t resist splaying your fingers a little to enjoy it. 

He lurched suddenly at your touch, gasping and shuddering before reining himself in and turning to stare at you. His chest rose and fell in rapid draws as he fought to contain himself, fought for self control. At first, you thought the look in his eyes was anger, until you realised with a jolt that it was pain. “Kieran?” you asked, removing your hand immediately. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” he rasped. “I just… wasn’t expecting… that.”

“I’m sorry,” you said miserably, withdrawing your hand. “I feel like anything I do or say with you is the wrong thing, like I’m just going to hurt you or bring back awful memories. The moment I’ve got my strength back, I promise I’ll go.”

“No!” he gasped, turning suddenly to face you fully and grabbing at your hands with both of his. “No, please,” he said. “It’s not that. Don’t go…” he blurted, then blushed furiously. “I mean…” His grip on your fingers faltered, but before he could let go, you looked up at him and squeezed him back. 

His chest still heaved in shallow pants, his nostrils flared, his ears pulled back sharply against his head. On an impulse, you reached up tentatively for his right ear and ran your thumb along the length of it. “What does it mean when you pull them back like this?” you asked, and he shuddered violently under your touch again, releasing a shaky exhalation. His eyelids flickered and his dark eyes rolled slightly. “Do you like that?” you asked in a soft whisper.

Kieran nodded, barely there, but clear enough to you. “No one ever… touches me…” he rasped. 

His words caught you off guard and your fingers faltered. “What? Why not?”

“Bad luck,” he winced. 

Your shoulders slumped despondently and you stopped stroking him, letting your hand fall despondently back into your lap. “Really?” you asked incredulously. “They won’t even touch you because they think the colour of your coat is bad luck?”

He nodded again. 

“That’s stupid,” you said adamantly, balling your fists. He looked at you then as though you had told him you thought he was the most beautiful creature in the world. In a way, you supposed he was, with his fine bone structure and his tanned skin, his dark eyes, soft black hair, and sleek, thick pelt. And so you told him, adding, “And you have the most adorable tail,” with a grin. 

His cheeks flushed a dark crimson at that. He looked away, and you had to laugh. 

“Come here,” you said, and when he refused to turn his face back to you, you cupped his jaw in both hands, rising up, and surprised him with a kiss on his lips. 

He let out a muffled moan of surprise, and then melted into the gesture. He pulled you into his lap and kissed you, his ardour growing as the kiss deepened. He raked his hands through your hair and then slid his palms down your waist. He pulled back then to catch his breath, but remained close, with his forehead pressed against yours, his eyes closed and his chest heaving. 

“Kieran?” you asked. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled in a shy whisper. “Just… didn’t want to get too carried away…”

“Later then,” you smiled, and he rolled his eyes in pleasure and nodded. 

Dinner that night was a rowdy celebration of your return to health, with Willow playing the flute and Ulfric beating a joyous rhythm on the drums. The fauns and satyrs danced joyously after the meal, and the noise even drew a couple of curious cervitaurs from the surrounding forest, who were immediately invited to join in. No one asked Kieran to dance, but Ulfric asked you, and Robin, and Rose, and even Hawthorn and Adder pulled you in to join your hands together. 

Exhausted, you eventually bowed out and flopped down beside Kieran, who sat nursing a large tankard of sweet, hot mead in the shadows a way back from the firelight. You knocked shoulders with him and laughed. “Surprised not to see you up there,” you said. 

“I don’t dance,” he said glumly. 

“Would you dance if I asked you?” 

He looked at you and then looked away, shaking his head, his expressive ears hanging low. 

“Please?” you insisted. You took his hand and stood, trying to get him to his feet, tugging fruitlessly at him. Eventually, more to humour you than because you succeeded in pulling him upright, Kieran set aside his mead and stood. The music was slower now, and when you didn’t lead him towards the firelight and the others, he seemed to relax a little. 

You slipped your arms around his torso, feeling the hardness of his muscles beneath the dark tunic, and laid your head against his chest. His heartbeat was hammering like a terrified centaur at full gallop, and you squeezed him tightly for a moment before taking his hands in yours. He moved instinctively to the music, proving that all satyrs and fauns have innate rhythm, if nothing else. Tentatively, he nuzzled his cheek against the top of your head, inhaling deeply and moaning softly. Kieran’s palms were leathery and smooth, and warm too, as he held your fingers delicately in his, as though you were a precious butterfly he was afraid of crushing.

He led you around in a slow, careful circle, and as the song finished and the others away off in the firelight began to clap appreciatively, he pulled back from you a little. His expression told you that he was expecting you to leave now that you’d had your dance. You had other ideas. 

“I’m tired,” you said, not having to exaggerate the tinge of exhaustion in your voice. 

“I should let you get to your tent then,” he said, letting go of your hands and stepping half a pace back from you. His hoof caught on a tree stump and he almost tipped backwards, face flushing red as he caught himself just in time. 

You shivered dramatically. “It’s cold…” you said, and his dark brows flickered. He might have had a vague inkling, but he wasn’t really getting your oh-so-subtle hints. That, or he didn’t want to believe it was happening. Rolling your eyes a little, you laughed, “Any chance I could stay with you?”

“Oh,” he said, ears flat against his head. 

“Only if you want me to, of course,” you added. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” Suddenly it all seemed like a very stupid idea. He hated humans. He tolerated you because you’d saved his life. He - 

Kieran grabbed your hand as you turned away, and he turned you back to look at him. “Of course you can,” he smiled shyly. “I just… I was just surprised, that’s all.” A slow smile dawned on his lips, touching his dark eyes, warming them, melting his habitual scowl into something kinder, gentler, and altogether more loving. “I’m sorry.”

He led you to his simple tent, which had become so familiar while you’d been recovering, and without invitation, you lay down on the hard bedroll which he used. Undressing, you reached for the spare tunic which he’d given you to sleep in a while ago, and he turned his back on you while you changed. You paused to admire his adorable little tail, which twitched and flicked nervously every now and again. 

While he was turned away from you, he also unbelted his own tunic and pulled it off over his head, revealing his bare, tightly muscled torso beneath. His dark fur rose a little way up his spine, like a wave nudging against the shore, and although you could have admired the view all evening, eventually you shuffled slightly on the uncomfortable bedroll, and raised an eyebrow. “You can actually get to sleep on this?” 

He glanced over his shoulder at you and his breath caught once again at the sight of you wearing his loose shirt to sleep in. Then looked at the ground, cheeks pinked, and shrugged. “Hang on. Mind out,” he said, and dragged yours over from where it sat on the far side of his tent so that he could lay yours on top of his. “Better?” 

You laughed and nodded as you sank back down onto the double set of bedrolls. “You know,” you said as he hesitantly slid in beside you and pulled up a blanket over the pair of you, “There’s a human fairy tale about a young woman in distress who comes to a prince’s castle, claiming to be a princess.” Kieran lay on his side, enraptured by your voice, propped up on one elbow and listening to you with his black eyes glittering in the dimness. “But the only way they can tell if she’s really a princess is if she’s sensitive enough to feel a little dried pea beneath all the mattresses they give her to sleep on. In the morning, she complains of a lump in her bedding which she’s certain is going to leave a bruise, and so they all know she really is a princess…”

Kieran chuckled quietly, a rich, low whickering, and flopped down to lay his head on his arm, avoiding his big, onyx ram’s horns. “You humans have the strangest stories…” he said. 

“Tell me a satyr one then,” you countered. 

“My mum told the best stories when I was a kid,” he said. “But there is one about a satyr that falls in love with a human. I always liked that one.”

“Really?” you asked, surprised. 

He snorted softly. “I know, it’s an odd choice, given my… feelings… on humans.”

“They seem to be changing a little bit now,” you ventured, reaching out and sliding your fingers over his waist. 

As ever, his breath snagged in his throat at the spark of your touch on his body. His skin was warm and smooth, and he rocked his head back and groaned, sensitive as ever to your touches as you took your time exploring more of him. “Mmm,” he hummed. “Maybe there’s one human I could make an exception for.” Kieran opened his eyes and brought his rough hand to your cheek. “You’re very beautiful,” he whispered. 

Bashfully, you closed your eyes, but they flew open again at the rustle of blankets, and then he was pressing a shy kiss to your lips. It wasn’t heated, and in fact, it was almost chaste. “Sleep well,” he whispered shyly, and you nuzzled up against him, feeling the heat of his body against yours as exhaustion finally caught up with you and dragged you down into sleep. 

You woke with a start in the early hours, disorientated and very, very warm. 

A soft, rapid grunting came from the space beside you, and you suddenly became aware of a hard pressure rutting up against your thigh in repeated strokes. Little whimpers filled the tent, and you turned to see Kieran, eyes closed, fast asleep, but unmistakably in the middle of a very steamy dream. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his lips parted to let his panting breath rasp in and out. He groaned and mumbled your name, repeatedly grinding his hips against you. He was so hard it must almost have been painful. 

Seconds later he woke with a sharp inhale, hips stuttering, his eyes fluttering open dazedly, his hand gripped around your hipbone, his cock pressed against your thigh, one leg draped over you. As realisation of what was happening hit him, he recoiled from you, rolling away onto his back and whimpering, “Oh no, oh no… not now… please… oh gods…”

“Kieran? It’s ok. Are you alright?” you asked, turning over and pressing a palm against his chest. It was searing hot and sheened in sweat. “Kieran?”

“I’ve gone into a fucking rut,” he snarled through clenched teeth, his hips suddenly jerking upwards as his hand moved instinctively down to palm some of the tension from his groin. “Fuck. I haven’t had a rut in years…”

You had to smile. “You want me to help you through it?” you asked, running the palm of your hand over his heaving chest. His back arched and he began to pant again: short, sharp exhales through his nose. 

“Yes,” he whispered, so quietly that you almost missed it. 

“Well then,” you murmured. “What do you want?”

Without thinking, he blurted, “I want to taste you,” and flushed hot, groaning immediately afterwards. He threw one arm up over his eyes, lifting his hips a little into his other waiting hand.

You drew back the cover to reveal your body and sat up, pulling the nightshirt off over your head. When you looked back at him, you found his eyes were on you, two pinpricks of glittering light in an otherwise dark tent. The moon must have been shining brightly outside, because you could see just enough of him to know that every muscle in his body was tensed and thrumming. 

Kieran ran his palms up your thighs and when you rolled quietly onto your back, he lowered his head and began to nose gently at you, licking you softly until your legs simply fell to the sides and you opened yourself up to him completely. He let out a deep, groaning sigh as he tasted you and his breath fanned, suddenly cool, across your wetness. He was hesitant. 

“I…” he murmured between gentle licks of his tongue, relishing the taste of you and teasing you to greater arousal. Gods but his tongue was teasing. “I’ve only done this once,” he said. “With… With a female of my kind… I don’t…”

“Just do what you did for her,” you moaned softly. “I’ll tell you if you need to do anything differently.” A thought occurred to you as he returned his attentions to your clit, and, in between stifled grunts, you managed to ask, “Kieran, can I hold onto your horns?”

“Fuck yes,” he growled, making you shiver all over. 

He sucked gently and then a little bit harder, and circled your clit with his tongue until your nerves lit up from your toes all the way up your body in a series of rapid-fire pulses. He slipped his fingers inside you, crooked them, teased with his tongue one more time, and without warning you came, clenching hard around him as he pressed his tongue against your swollen, sensitive clit. 

“So beautiful,” he murmured as you bit back a scream that came out as a barely-stifled grunt while your body convulsed and shook. You never let go of his thick, hard horns, and he growled softly, clearly loving the pressure of you tugging on them. 

Eventually, however, the strength went out of your hands, and you slumped back, panting, onto the mattress. Kieran was onto you in moments, rutting against you without pushing to enter you. 

“Please,” you hissed. “I want you. I want - I need - you inside me.”

He didn’t wait to be asked again, but lined himself up and placed one hand by your shoulder, the other cupping your breast and toying with your nipple as he slipped into you. He wasn’t extraordinarily long, but he was thick, and he filled you, stretching you wide as he nudged inside, your still-clenching walls fluttering against him. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he snarled, rocking his hips experimentally and groaning. He picked up his rhythm after that, and almost before you could recover from your first peak, you found yourself building up again. You grasped his torso, nails scraping down the rippling muscles of his back, and another idea came to you. You were a mage, after all. “You mind if I…?” you began, letting a short sting of electricity pass down his body from your hands. 

He jolted hard at that, biting off a cry at the extra stimulation as it hit him where he was hardest, and suddenly, powerfully, he was coming inside you. His tail stood upright as he released deep into you, hips flush with yours. His hooves dug into the tent floor, driving him deeper as he emptied himself into you with powerful force. The heat as it filled you tipped you over the edge, and you came a second time. Kieran was quiet when he came, clamping his teeth together, barely a gasp escaping him, but you could feel the release in his body. You could also feel how he wasn’t even close to being done yet. 

His rut drove him on, his cock refusing to go slack after his first release. You didn’t mind. The second time he came inside you, he was a little less gentle with you, the wild need having built to a crescendo inside him after his first orgasm. His hips thrust rapidly against you, his powerful legs driving his cock deeper into you, so that your back curled. He hooked his arms under your knees and tilted you upwards, catching you just there as he pounded into you harder and harder. When he came this time, he did let out a little whimper of pleasure, eyes rammed shut, and when he came a fourth time, an hour or so later, he barely managed to restrain the weak cry of release as you came around his cock again, the two of you in perfect harmony. 

Exhausted by his rut, Kieran slumped down beside you, tipping over onto his back, his breathing ragged and shallow, and he reached an arm vaguely out towards you. Finding your hand, he laced his fingers into yours and squeezed. “You alright?” he hissed. 

“Mmmhmm,” you smiled. “More than. I think I needed that almost as much as you did…”

He laughed then, a flighty little thing, full of self consciousness and apprehension, despite his tiredness. “You sure?”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you said, bringing his hand up towards your face and kissing his knuckles. 

“That was so intense,” he said, swallowing thickly. “I’ve never had a rut like this.”

“Is it over?”

“Not yet,” he said, clearly embarrassed. “Not quite.”

“Sleep now,” you smiled, reaching over him for the waterskin he kept in the corner of his tent. “Wake me up when you need to though; I honestly don’t mind. You want a drink first?”

“Please,” he nodded, sitting up on one elbow and drinking deeply from it after you. He was coated in a sheen of sweat, and his black legs were damp too, but you didn’t mind in the least. You weren’t exactly pristine yourself now. You ached in all the right places, and the tent was thick with the scent of your union. 

He came three more times before dawn, and when he was finally spent, he lay there, shaking and limp, too weak to move before falling into a deep sleep. Grateful that he had chosen a remoter spot in the clearing for his tent, you slipped out of the back and filled up a pail of water in the spring. The pale light of dawn filtered through the trees, and a few others were up and about, but no one paid you much attention, for which you were grateful. For starters, you couldn’t be sure you weren’t walking slightly funny…

Kieran was still asleep when you slid back into his tent, lying on his back with his hips at an angle, one leg resting on top of the other, hooves neatly stacked, blanket abandoned, one arm over his eyes, the other by his side. His lips were softly parted, and he was breathing the deep, easy breaths of one who is fast asleep. 

Dipping the cloth into the water, you cleaned yourself off first, and then wondered if you should do the same for him too. Deciding not to wake him, you refreshed the bucket and left it for him, and then got dressed and went to get some breakfast. A couple of the satyrs snuffed the air unsubtly as you passed, grinning almost wolfishly, and Ulfric, seated and eating his breakfast by the campfire already, slapped his thigh and guffawed with laughter, but it was not unkind. Still, you blushed furiously. 

Hawthorn smiled knowingly as you stood in line behind him to get a plate of toast and eggs. “About time,” he commented.

“What?” you blurted, nearly dropping your empty plate. 

He laughed quietly. “Kieran, I mean. That boy is long overdue a rut. It’s not healthy… And I’m glad you sparked it in him.”

Your cheeks blazed with embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.” He took a deep breath and turned to face you fully. “Listen, mage, if you wish a place here with us, you are more than welcome to stay. I know you said you had to get away, and I won’t ask what it is you’re leaving behind, but we will be at our wintering grounds in a few days’ time, and you are more than welcome to stay with us at least for the winter, if not longer. It is a cruel time of year to be travelling this part of the world. Alone…”

You were so touched by his kindness that, unexpectedly, you began to cry. Fat, silent tears rolled down your face. 

“Oh, no, child,” he said gently, reaching for your shoulder and then thumbing your tears away. “Don’t cry now.”

“Thank you,” you sniffled, wiping your cheek on your sleeve. “Sorry,” you added, snuffling pathetically and smiling at the same time. 

Adder’s voice came from behind you, and he stepped up beside his husband. “Are you being cruel, Hawthorn?” he teased, kissing him briefly on the cheek before looking at you with a sparkle in his eyes. 

You shook your head. “No, he’s being nicer than I deserve.”

Adder chuckled and nodded in the direction of Gilly, who was waiting politely to serve you some scrambled egg and toast. You stepped up and accepted it as Adder quietly suggested you should take some back to Kieran. “He’ll need it, I think,” was all he said as he handed you another plate, and you took some back to the tent to discover that Kieran was just waking up. 

“How are you feeling?” you asked. 

“Sore…?” he said, flexing his legs and back gingerly. “You?”

“Nicely achy…” you grinned, holding out the plate. “Here. And… everyone knows already. Just so you know.”

He groaned and took the plate from you, sitting up awkwardly. “Of course they do. They can probably smell my hormones all over you. I’m sorry. Gods, I’m so embarrassed…”

“Is having a rut such a bad thing?” 

He paused, chewing slowly, and then shook his head. “Not really. I mean, most guys have one once a year or so… it’s part of life…”

“So when was the last time you had one?” you asked innocently, sitting down cross legged opposite him and tucking into your breakfast with relish. 

He blushed a bit. “Four or five years ago, I think.”

“Can I ask why it’s been so long…?”

He laughed suddenly, but it wasn’t a very happy laugh. “The longer you go without sex, the less your body thinks you need it…”

“Oh.”

Kieran met your eyes with his and then huffed an awkward laugh. “Something about you just set me off, I think.”

You grinned. “I like you too, Kieran,” you said, and he gave you a happy, lop-sided smirk. “Elder Hawthorn said I could stay with you folks if I wanted.”

Kieran looked up at you again, fork halfway to his mouth, and he beamed at you. “He did?”

You nodded. 

“Are you going to?” he asked, resuming eating and clearly trying not to get his hopes up. 

When you didn’t answer immediately, he stole a glance up at you with his dark eyes wide and glittering in the low light of the tent interior. The breeze made the canvas shift above you, and you took a moment to listen to the late autumn wind as it disturbed the leaves. Soon it would be winter, and the snows would fall thick and fast. What you’d thought you were going to do once you cleared the far edge of the Wychwood, you weren’t sure, but staying with the herd didn’t seem such an awful idea. 

The longer you sat there in silence, the lower Kieran’s shoulders sagged. “I’ll stay for the winter,” you said. “Definitely. I’m not sure what I’ll do after that.”

He smiled again, his Cupid’s bow lips turning upwards at the corner, drawing out a rare dimple in his cheek. “I’m glad,” was all he said as he finished off his breakfast. Once his last mouthful was gone, he grunted and said, “I’m going to go… clean off a bit, I think.”

“I’m going to go see how Rose is doing,” you said, picking up the empty plates and heading out before him into the fresh autumn morning. 

The last leg of the journey to the wintering grounds was relatively easy. There was one steep ravine that you had to cross, winding your way down a dangerous, narrow, path that was little more than a goat track, but Kieran stayed with you, holding your hand and helping you down the harder bits while his sure-footed hooves never slipped or stumbled. 

He got a lot of flack from the other scouts, particularly Ulfric, for his change in behaviour, and you could tell it affected him more deeply than he was letting on. They weren’t unkind, but the little comments still dug deep. “Careful, Kieran,” Ulfric jeered as Kieran lifted you carefully by the waist to help you down a particularly steep jump, and set you down on the path again with a shy smile. “Or the wind will change and you’ll be stuck like that, and then no one will recognise you…”

Kieran’s trademark scowl returned not long after that, but you slid your hand silently into his, and he squeezed you gratefully, though he said nothing. 

A few days later and it began to snow, lightly at first, and then in denser flurries, just as you reached the foothills of the mountains which were blanketed by the Wychwood. It seemed as though your herd was almost the last to arrive at their usual wintering grounds, no doubt held up by the incident with the slavers, and your subsequent recovery time. Guilt twisted at you at that, seeing Kieran’s mother and a few of the older fauns and satyrs shivering in their shawls and jerkins, but you pushed it down and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. You were all here now, and no one was truly any worse off for it. 

To your surprise, you found that the wintering grounds was used not only by this herd, but by a number of others, as well as a group of centaurs, a herd of cervitaurs, and perhaps most surprising, a little family of otter-bodied creatures with human torsos. You’d read about lutritaurs before, but they were so rare that you had never expected to meet any. There were five of them in this family, and they bounded through the snow, laughing and playing, hurling snowballs at each other wish surprising force and accurate, all the while winding in and out of the gathered cervitaurs’ and centaurs’ hooves, and generally raising the energy levels of the camp by about fifty percent, all by themselves. 

Kieran caught you watching them with a look of slack-jawed wonder on your face, and he laughed before leaving you to watch them, and heading off into the forest to collect firewood. 

The herd made their winter shelters out of pine logs, and they cannily stitched their tent canvases together to create larger yurts. These larger spaces were communally occupied by perhaps four or five satyrs, as it made more sense than everyone having their own. The shelters were substantial, weatherproof, and, since they were also sheltered beneath the tall pines, they were away from the worst of the winter weather. 

Once Kieran had helped to erect at least one of the new shelters, he sought you out where you were having a conversation with Robin about winter supplies of healing herbs. He came shyly up beside you and took your hand without speaking, clearly not wanting to interrupt. 

Robin took one look at him and chuckled amusedly. “That boy is fair vibrating with excitement, child,” she said to you. “I’ll take my leave before he explodes.”

You turned as Robin left, and found him blushing attractively. “Sorry,” he mumbled. 

“It’s alright!” you laughed. “What’s up?”

“I want to show you something…” he said, and tugged you by the hand towards the snowy pasture that bordered the forest. 

As you forged a path beside him, your boots crunching on the inches of fallen snow, you glanced down and saw that his black hocks were icy and covered in clumps of snow. “Don’t you get cold?” you asked, and he shook his head. 

“Not really. Come on!” 

“Alright, alright,” you alighted. Still giggling, you let him tug you along. “Where are we going?” you asked breathlessly after perhaps five minutes’ walking.

“You’ll see! It’s been abandoned for years,” he babbled happily. “The forest folk don’t really want to use it because it’s made by man,” he went on as he rounded the corner and the vista opened up beyond, “But there are no more humans in the area really… and…” He paused and your eyes fell on the object of his latest mission. 

A log cabin stood in the lea of the line of fir trees, dark and empty but well-built and sturdy. You swallowed. “Why are you showing me this?” you asked, already having an inkling of what he was thinking. 

He pushed a strand or two of his rebellious black hair back out of his face and smiled shyly, ears pulling back against his head. “Well… I thought… I thought if maybe you had a home, then… then maybe you…” He ground his jaw and you were shocked to see a glint of tears in his dark eyes. “You’d stay,” he finished in barely a whisper. When you didn’t make a reply for a long moment, he huffed a breath, mist furling slowly from his lips through the still winter morning, and added, “But it was a stupid idea really. Why would you want to live in some abandoned shack way out here.”

“Stop,” you said, squeezing his hand hard. “Hang on, wait a minute, Kieran. It’s a lot to process, that’s all. Let’s go and look at it, shall we?”

He nodded and walked silently by your side as you approached the old building. All his elation seemed to have vanished like a pricked bubble, and it felt as though he were just waiting for you to let him down gently. 

The cabin’s walls were built on chunky foundations of stone and made of thick, trimmed, interlocking logs. Small windows with thick glass collected snow on the sills, and the roof was pitched at an angle that wouldn’t accumulate too much snow, and it had a stone chimney. Overall, it looked perfect. “Kieran,” you breathed. “It’s gorgeous…” and you darted towards the front door. This time it was you tugging him by the hand.

Inside was empty, and it smelled a little dank and musty, but not damp or rotten. The floorboards needed replacing in a few places, but it was essentially very much habitable. You gazed around, and then turned back to find that Kieran had not come in. You cocked your head to one side when you saw him standing uncomfortably in the snow outside. 

“Kieran? Everything alright?”

He nodded sheepishly. “You like it?” 

“I do. Doing it up will give me something to do this winter… Will you help me?” 

He shuffled nervously. “I have duties with the herd,” he said reluctantly.

“Of course you do! Silly me. I don’t want to take you away from that,” you said, heart sinking. Heavens knew he had a hard enough time fitting in because of the colour of his fur, let alone his tastes in human…

He chuckled softly and went on, “But when I’m not scouting and hunting, I’ll help you.”

You beamed a smile and flung yourself down the stairs at him and into his arms. He caught you - luckily his reactions were fast enough that you didn’t end up sprawled on the snow, crushing their finest scout half to death - and he spun you around, laughing. Then he set you on your feet and took your face in his rough hands. “Can I kiss you?” he asked timidly. “You’re so beautiful; can I kiss you?”

You nodded and he closed the distance between you in a heartbeat. His hips rolled against yours as he deepened the kiss, moaning and tugging at your hair before pulling back, breathless and laughing again. “You make me so happy,” he rasped, stroking your hair back from your eyes with a fingertip. “Thank you for saying you’ll stay. Even if it’s just for the winter.”

“Honestly,” you said, slipping your hand into his as you turned to head back to the gathered herds in the forest. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be right now than here with you.”

He choked up a little at that, and in answer, he simply squeezed your hand tightly in his.

Don't forget you can find my masterlist of posts HERE. 

I hope you enjoyed this part! I can't believe how out of control this story is now. It was only supposed to be 3000 words, and it's now a whopping 14,596. There will be a Part Four, as I said at the top. If you liked it, don't forget to drop a like on the post and/or leave me a comment. It really does mean the world to me to hear your thoughts.