Between Feathers and Federation - 3 (NSFW) (Patreon)

Feyet felt the world slowly coming back to her. Her body ached, her nose filled with the scents of sex, blood, and a slight bit of pain, if one could smell pain. She wondered why she felt this heavy weight on her and why her blanket was elevated so far. Then, she felt Scratches’ breath on her neck and her eyes rolled to the side.

At first there was panic, then her brain’s imprinting asserted itself and told her that that was her mate. Wait! That really happened! We really…? She started to move, only for Scratches’ eyes to snap open. She locked eyes with the uladon and let out a soft meep as she blushed and flustered, not used to sleeping in the nude, nor waking up next to someone, as her brain tried to process what she had just done.

“Good, you’re awake, not sure how long you sleep. I wait for you to wake, dare not leave you. You wounded, tired, vulnerable. Recently mated too. You satisfied me. Did I satisfy you?” Scratches said as she let out a soft yawn and showed off all her razor sharp teeth and flicked her tongue in her mouth. Feyet nodded at the question very sheepishly as she took in a dry, ragged breath. “Hungry, but night-time, cannot hunt, poison fangs about.”

Feyet understood that the ornitritites were the reason that this tribe did not hunt at night. They could take down a very large predator, but tiny venomous pack hunters were threats, and even just a couple of their bites would be enough to bring one of them down. 

She nodded. “Right, I can feed us if you like.” Feyet turned to reach past Scratches only for Scratches to push her back down to the bed. Feyet looked at Scratches, surprised and a little upset. Even if she was smaller, Scratches had no right to push her around.

“No, you’re injuried worse and your body bruised. I carry,” Scratches replied. Feyet started to protest, even getting fussy as Scratches effortlessly picked her up and moved them both from under the covers as Scratches stood up.

Feyet first saw what time it was: 29:22, close to the midnight day change on this planet. She had slept almost twelve hours straight. Fjer normally slept in two five hour intervals, though here on a 30 hour planet it was actually three such intervals every other day. That type of circadian rhythm required either special adjustment or a very unique individual. Either way, if you weren’t able to make the adjustment, you could end up with a few psychotic episodes, which, as a researcher on a primitive planet, would go very badly.

That was the reason she was down here alone. The adjustment to a sleep schedule like that was very difficult. Why she, OWWWW! Feyet hissed as her mind suddenly felt the pain of gravity. Her belly hurt, her thighs burned, her back felt so very sore and her insides felt re-arranged, especially the slit between her legs. She looked down to see purple and red bruising all along her body that shone through her salt and pepper feathers.

“Oh… I… did we…”

Scratches nodded, interrupting any further comment. “You took me properly, but clearly weaker than expected.”

Feyet frowned at both her current state and the simplicity of the wording. “The word is delicate. It means easily broken.” She hoped the translator would make a determination on how to introduce the new word as it had been doing.

“Delicate… delicate… Yes, better word,” Scratches asserted as she leaned in close to nuzzle against Feyet’s temple. “Shimmer-walker very smart, but delicate. Where is food place?”

Feyet sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to get put down even if she asked, and if she did manage to convince Scratches to put her down, the pain of walking would be significantly worse. She doubted she could get more than a few steps without heavily leaning on a wall in this state.

“Right, see that black part of the door? I need to press my hand to it.” Feyet pointed to the black control panel that would direct the door to open.

Scratches was confused and walked right up to the flat white part of the wall that had none of the sketches or paintings on it with the small black piece. It was the place where they had come in, but Scratches could not make out where a door was, even with her sharp eyes for a moment. Not until she really stared at it and started to see the seam that was so fine, she had no idea how they had made it.

Feyet reached with her injured arm at first, but straightening it out let out a spike of pain now that she lacked adrenaline and a focus. The arm protested from the slash earlier. Right, food for us first, water for hydration, and then I need to put stitches in, or else this will get infected or worse.

Scratches looked at her expectantly, then concerned as her brow furrowed. “Your arm hurt still?”

Feyet nodded. “Need to use the other one.” She reached across her body and pressed her fingers to the door, where the thin blue outline against the black caused the open button to light up. The sound of hydraulics hit their ears as the door opened and let the air between areas equalize.

Feyet pointed at the black square in the middle of the hall across the hallway, then her body made another urgent matter apparent and she realized where they needed to go first. “Scratches, do you need to relieve yourself?”

Scratches tried to understand for a moment, and when she failed, Feyet pantomimed the act of going to the bathroom. “Do you need to pee?” 

Scratches nodded slowly, but she had been suppressing her needs in hopes of helping her mate first. “I do, but I hold. You take priority.”

Feyet pointed at the door furthest down at the end of the hall and Scratches walked them towards it. Again, she pressed the black part with a small blue outline, and the door opened. Inside were several things that Scratches did not recognize at all. Feyet realized quickly she was in for a fun time.

Feyet pointed at the toilet. “Take me over to that and set me down.” The covered bowl built into the wall perplexed Scratches. Feyet let out a sigh, internally amused at seeing her mate learn more about her side of the world.

Scratches obediently walked over and set Feyet down, who immediately stumbled for support as her legs would not hold her up. Scratches caught her with an arm under her soft breasts, which elicited a moan of mixed pleasure and pain from Feyet. Feyet’s cheeks burned with a blush as she looked up at Scratches. “Thank you.”

She lifted the lid of the strange smooth bowl. It was made of some rock that Scratches did not recognize, with a pool of water inside as well as a hole at the bottom. Feyet simply sat down and showed Scratches she was relieving herself. When Scratches helped her stand, she jumped at the sound of the water rushing out and sending the piss away.

Feyet nodded to her, “It’s okay, it’s okay, look: toilet sent it far away. Works for other stuff too. Whatever has to exit, it takes care of it. See the cloth on the wall? Use it to clean your skin and feathers afterward.”

Scratches looked absolutely perplexed, but was starting to put it together. Feyet helped Scratches sit on the toilet sideways because her tail was not nearly as flexible as her own. It had rigid skin and was much longer, so it could only lift so high. Sure enough, Scratches was eventually able to relax and relieve herself, though it took a lot longer than Feyet did. Once she was finished, Feyet got Scratches to go over to the sink.

This smaller bowl was at Scratches’ lower thigh and she had to bend down to use it. “Listen, just turn the rock on the right, it will help clean your hands, like the burning herbs, but no burning, just water.” Scratches eventually got the faucet to work with some trial and error, even scratching the metal, much to the surprise of Feyet, who was now very thankful for her synth-thread armor, no matter how light it was.

Scratches rinsed her hands, and Feyet smiled as she came over to help Feyet over to the faucet while it was running. Feyet simply leaned over to wash her hand talons, carefully working them under the stream. Then she took the towel and dried them before patting down the hands that were holding her to dry them as well.

“Okay Scratches. Food, yes?” Feyet offered. Her body really needed water as she turned off the faucet and tried to forget how thirsty she was. 

Scratches nodded happily. The wonders her mate was showing her left her without words for now. They left the bathroom and went to the originally intended room. Inside, Scratches saw several things that felt magical: a box with a clear side that she could see was empty but pearl white on the inside, and many buttons with runes on the right side.

Next to that was something that had a tiny faucet like the one in the bathroom, but it was pointed straight down. A plate below was clearly meant for the cups that were stacked next to it. It was a cylinder-like object, but without the section in the middle on the front, and a very large square container on the back. Several of the rock drawers lined the walls. A large elevated table with attached seats around it in a circle was in the center of the room.

Another sink was in the corner with stacks of bowls and flat plates, along with several strange clear cylinders. There was also the smell of something soft and fruity in the air. Lastly, there was a very large shiny smooth rock box, with a pair of black, strangely not rock or wood handles on it. 

Feyet let out a sigh of resigned stress. Scratches gave her a confused look of dismay. Feyet realized she would have to walk Scratches through the process of cooking and would need to analyze the available food items for what Scratches could safely eat. 

“Feyet, mate, what is wrong?”

Feyet’s ears perked up as she turned her head towards Scratches, realizing she used an article in her sentence. She felt proud of Scratches for grasping the concept so quickly and using it correctly. Feyet decided at that moment that she would press through this process, no matter how painful. Scratches deserved no less. “Okay Scratches, walk over to the refrigerator.” Feyet pointed to indicate the unknown word she had used.

Scratches walked up to the large smooth box she was directed to and could see her reflection warped in the object. Feyet reached over with her good arm and pulled the door open to reveal a sudden rush of cold air and mist. She opened the freezer side because it was the safest for anything she could serve. 

“Cold! Cold! Cold!” Scratches howled as she backed away, freaking out at the sudden rush of the ice cold air. “Death cold!” Scratches hissed, looking at Feyet, conflicted between anger and her safety. 

Feyet realized this was going to be a very long process. “Scratches, it is okay. Help me get those…” Feyet searched for a word for the package and failed, then came upon another idea, reminded of the tailbags and backpacks they used, “…bags, those three with the blue stripe, then we can put the death cold away.”

Scratches was very skeptical. Death cold like this would kill her or her tribemates in minutes. They were specifically warned against such things for a long time. She walked forward and grabbed the packages. Feyet assumed that, for someone about 60% larger than herself, she would need to feed her a double portion of food in order to satisfy. She paused for a moment, realizing that Scratches was mostly a carnivore, and compared her digestion inefficiencies to her genetically engineered one… no, she would need at least a triple. Not to mention the taste would be foreign, and if the spice mix was good to Scratches, she might overeat and stuff herself.

She reached forward and grabbed three more of the flat bags that were frozen with ice on them. She could order extra food once or twice, maybe use the excuse they got a bad batch, which was exceptionally rare but could happen. She would not do this consistently, lest someone get suspicious. Once Feyet had tucked the five frozen packages against her naked breasts and locked them secured by her injured arm, she closed the freezer and pointed at the recessing unit. It would simultaneously rehydrate the food and cook it.

The packages that were so flat, they could have been mistaken for message envelopes for important documents. Once the recessor was done, they would be the size of a full blown meal for 7 hours for a Fjer. 

Feyet picked one for herself and put it in. She pushed the button for autosetting for the fish cutlet and a mixed spiced fruit medley, along with a big pile of rice from Terra. Fjer loved the stuff and treated it like a nice snack that she would often cover in sweet fruit syrups and nip at such a snack for a few hours.

Scratches watched her mate in nearly stunned silence. While Feyet could hold those completely frozen bags without flinching, it was making her chilled and shudder in painful shivering quakes. Her instincts wanted to get away from it. She watches her open the door to the small square box and put the bag in. She heard it come to life with light inside and a droning noise. “What is that? What magic is this?”

“Not magic, " Fayet explained. She carefully thought of how to phrase this to Scratches. Any way she could think of that would not come off as her sounding like “I'm a magician” or some outlandish magic."The food is dried like your travel jerky, then it is covered in Death Cold to completely preserve it. Then the food is made wet and hot again by this box. It is not magic, but it is like gauze or foul liquid herbs. Just… something your tribe hasn't discovered yet.”

Scratches had to consider this for a few moments to process what she was being told, but that last word was a bit too complicated for her. “What is discovered?” She finally asked after putting the pieces of what she was being told together.

Feyet had not accounted for the idea that the tribe simply did not have a word for exploring. “It means to figure out or solve, and… no, those words won't work either…" Feyet had to really think about what to say, before she arrived on a word that would work, "It means to think until you can create a new tool or to find a new plan, a new place, or to come up with a new idea that no one ever has before.”

Scratches was really trying to piece together this new word. After a few moments, she found a use for it in order to show her mate that she had learned it. “Like I discovered your yurt, yes?”

Feyet almost wanted to clap for joy until she was reminded that her arm still needed stitches. She winced when her hands came together and Scratches hissed at her for inflicting pain on herself. “Silly shimmer-walker, you hurt self like child.”

Feyet decided at that moment that, since she was already in for far more than she should be, she may as well go all the way. She was not going to let Scratches live in ignorance or have ignorant ideas about her or her things. “That is something else as well. My people are not called shimmer-walkers. The shimmer is just another tool we have. We are called Fjer. What do you call the planet?”

Scratches looked dumbfounded at first, unsure what this word was all together. Finally, without proper context, she shrugged. “We call you shimmer-walker because of tool. You are much weaker and more delicate without tool?” Feyet gave her a slow deliberate nod, looking into her eyes to see if there was any hint of aggression. When she was satisfied she found none, she motioned for Scratches to continue. Feyet relaxed in Scratches’ grip as the box next to the recessor dinged, indicating it had finished cooking the meal. 

“What is planet?” Scratches jumped from the noise the box made. 

Feyet used the hand motion for stop as she had learned previously to calm Scratches down. “Don't worry, that is how this tool works. It means the food is ready. Planet means… what is place where jungle and tribe and mountain and river all live together and are placed on top of, what do you call it?”

Scratches was now puzzled. For being so smart, Feyet did not know what Gaia was. Even the smallest child learned what Gaia was. “You mean Gaia?”

Feyet thought for a moment and nodded. “My people, Fjer, are from another Gaia. We travel through the stars to get here. I am the only one on this Gaia, but there are many, many, many on the Gaia that is my home.” Feyet let the words sink in as she reached for the recessor again. She calmly waited until Scratches responded because she did not wish to distract her with food while she was thinking. 

Scratches wanted to laugh because it sounded crazy. It sounded like something that should not exist. However, after a moment of taking in the world around her, this yurt was beyond her understanding. Even now she had learned more new words that she knew a number for. Finally, taking those understandings together, she began to open her mind to the possibility that what her mate said was true. “I do not want to believe… but I cannot doubt.”

Feyet nodded slowly, then opened the recessor. Scratches was bombarded with a scent so sublime, she had never had anything come close. The spices that filled her nose were strange and foreign, but so very salivating. She felt her mouth get wetter than her mate's nethers after they had finished becoming one. “What food is that?”

Feyet was beaming with a smile. The pain in her arm went forgotten as she removed the tray and placed it on top of the recessor. The package had now expanded into a tray with six different depressions, one of which was nearly half the tray, while the other five were smaller. 

She carefully placed the other four meals all at once into the recessor. She would have to show Scratches that the food was safe to eat, but her meals would all be finished within a few minutes. She activated the recessor again, and the familiar drone filled the room as she carefully motioned for Scratches to take her over to the table. “Yours is cooking, but I will show you what it is and eat it myself to show you it is safe. At least, I believe it will be safe for you, too.”

In truth, Feyet was guessing on whether or not the food would be safe for Scratches to eat. She had selected four meals, but her meals were only 50% meat. The other 50% was comprised of either vegetables, nuts, or fruit. It would not do well if it turned out that there was something harmful inside of the food. Though her scientific expedition had studied the bacteria of the planet to make sure that if any food contamination did occur, it would not disrupt the ecosystem. That did not guarantee that it would be 100% accurate however. 

Feyet hesitated as she got ready to take the cover off of her tray. She was about to introduce her new mate to some flavors that she would never have if she didn’t leave. Her mind began processing the trials that they may face together, especially if her superiors found out what had happened. She had to fight back the need to cry as she looked up at Scratches, who was ignorant of her torment until that moment. 

Scratches simply looked into those large emerald eyes and the forming tears, one slowly  rolling into Feyet’s cheek feathers. She reached up and used the blunt side of her claw to softly wipe it away. “Why cry? Did I do wrong?”

Feyet shook her head and took a second to breathe in so she could compose herself. Right, live in the moment, and just hope that when they find out you can prove she's sapient, because as far as I could tell, they all really are, even if my judgment may be considered compromised. 

“No, you did nothing wrong. I just have some memories that need to be thought about.” Feyet wanted to use words like processed and explain the hierarchy that she was involved in with her society, but such things were far beyond the concepts that they had gone over so far, and she did not wish to give her new mate a headache. 

She decided to forget it for the moment and simply tore the cover off the tray, revealing the filet of fish on a bed of rice. There was a compartment of something that resembled terran apples soaked in syrup and spice. Next to that were several mixed nuts that the recessor had roasted in the process of rehydrating them. In addition to this, there was a sweet roll and a set of fried insects resembling locusts. All of these things were wonderful and delicious among her people. However, she wasn't quite sure what all Scratches could eat without hurting her stomach. 

“Yours will be similar, but there will be a lot more. I'm estimating because of your size and diet that you will need to eat about four times what I do.” Feyet quickly took a moment to process the words she just introduced. “Estimate means to take a guess at something and then act based on that guess, whereas diet are the things that we eat on a regular basis. You certainly have a preference for scooping up the zaenies and gulping them down, don't you?”

Feyet raised her foot and playfully poked at the little bit of the pudge under Scratches’ belly from under the table , which had developed from her excessive snacking upon the small lupine creature. Scratches blushed and covered her belly to prevent further poking. She even let out a little laugh as she realized that the intention was a friendly tease, not one meant for malice. “They are so easy to catch. I don't know how I could show you though. I don't think you could get one down with your…” Scratches was trying to find a word to describe the keratin protrusion that served as Feyet’s mouth. 

Feyet only realized what Scratches was getting at once she poked her beak to test it. Feyet picked up a section of the fish with her finger and gave a firm nod. “It's called a beak. Birds have them, and my people are more birds than anything else.”

“But you don't have teeth. How do you tear up prey?” Feyet's response was to give a live demonstration. She simply tilted her head back, took the sliver of fish and swallowed it whole. She repeated the process a couple more times with the other items, then took the sweet roll and used her beak to tear pieces of it off. 

Scratches started to understand and nodded in approval. “Beak is like two big teeth, you don't need to chew. You can just swallow, yes?” Feyet nodded with a very smug satisfied smile. Even if her mate lacked her technology, she certainly was the brightest one of her tribe, and to Feyet, that meant she chose her mate correctly. Feyet went to take another bite when the recessor went off again.

Feyet looked over and realized that Scratches’ mouth was starting to drool and some of it was dripping onto the table. She let out an exasperated side and reached behind her to grab one of the handcloths and quickly wiped up the drool, then handed it to Scratches. “Wipe your mouth, please. It is rude to drool at the table.”

Scratches felt a sudden wave of embarrassment. Not only had her mate just told her she was being rude, and also corrected her, but she had let this gatherer do so. She found herself wiping the saliva from her lips. Meanwhile, Feyet put the four trays in front of Scratches, which to her seemed awfully unfair. She was being given four times the food. Even as a hunter, she should only be given twice as much. Further, if her seed quickened, then her mate would need more food. She started to try to push a tray back across to Feyet when the bird swatted her hand away. 

Scratches immediately snarled and bared her teeth at the challenge. Feyet realized that she had done something wrong and overstepped an unspoken boundary that she didn't understand. She held up her hands beside her head and lowered her gaze so that it was not meeting Scratches’. “Okay, okay, how about this? Let's have you try the food on the trays, and any that you don't like, I will eat, okay? I am sorry that I swatted your hand.”

Feyet realized at that moment that she could not ever risk treating Scratches like a child. Scratches might have to actually fight her or lose position within her tribe. Then she realized that she just entertained the idea of her being introduced to the rest of the tribe and all of the problems that would come with that. 

She immediately did away with that idea and every other thing she had done with any ideas about the future and simply put it into a box to be opened later. She refocused and showed Scratches how to take the cover off of the first tray. “Now you try.”

The trays were clearly designed for someone with much smaller hands and less sharp claws. It took several attempts to get one of the covers off and it tore in several places. Eventually, however, Scratches had four meals arrayed in front of her.

One was just a pile of meatballs and a strange cylinder shaped pasta with diagonally cut ends, covered in a red sauce that clearly wasn’t blood but could have faked it with the stains it could make. A smell of some foreign spice filled her nose and overpowered any other smell in the room with how savory and enticing it was.

Before Scratches could jump at the meal, Feyet held up her hand to stop her. Scratched looked up, feeling confused and disrupted. This gatherer had better have a very good reason for stopping her from devouring the presented food. “Scratches, let me show you all four meals, and you should take a little of each at a time. My food might cause your stomach to be in pain, so we want to see how your stomach likes it, not just your nose and mouth, okay?”

Scratches was most perplexed. “Poison? You eat poison?”

Feyet immediately slapped her hand over her face and slid her hand down her cheek like it was an ooze. Her facepalm was because she hadn’t thought it would be taken that way. She spoke softly through her hand as her eyes focused back on Scratches. “No, I mean, yes. I can eat lots of poisons. My species is immune to most venom and poison because of how our body…” Feyet stopped as she realized that Scratches was staring at her, horrified, and this explanation wasn’t going to help things.

“No, I did not serve you poison from what I know, but my food is from another gaia, and you have never eaten any of it ever. Do you understand the caution now?” Feyet hoped she had encountered an instance of something that tasted good but wouldn’t cause some form of negative effect.

Scratches thought on this for a few minutes taking it in and she remembered something. “You mean like Shriek?”

It was Feyet’s turn for confusion. “Shriek?”

“Yes, Shriek. Large not-bird with leathery wings and small fur. You eat, you get very sick in head and end up trying to hurt others and afraid of water.” Scratches recalled. Feyet dropped her hand, immediately realizing what was being described to her.

“You mean a bat creature and it gives you rabies.”

“Foam Mind Death,” Scratches corrected, looking at Feyet as if she were a student who had just proven she was smarter than the teacher.

Holy fuck, they get what rabies is and where it comes from. I cannot… you know what? No, awesome, yes this will work. “Yes, probably less harm than Foam Mind Death, but you will wish you were dead, and we won’t know for sure until you actually try some of it and see how your stomach takes it.”

Scratches looked at the pasta meal in the tray and let out a deep, upset sigh. Feyet put a hand on her shoulder and lifted Scratches’ head to meet her gaze. “I will take a single bite of all of it so you know it’s at least safe for me, okay?”

Scratches hadn’t considered that she might feel like she needed proof the food wasn’t like a bat and couldn’t hurt her. She looked at the delicious smelling plate, then back at Feyet. “Okay, show me other plates. Scr…” Scratches paused as another new word started to take shape, one Feyet had been using rather effectively in place of her own name. “I will let you take a bite to prove you, Feyet, can be trusted.” This arrangement also meant her mate would get some more food, just in case the seed had taken and her mate would now be growing their first brood.

Scratches did not have any idea that, without some major genetic bridging drugs between them, there was no chance of a pregnancy. Feyet then proceeded to remove the tops from the other four meals. The recessor and trays worked together, Feyet knew this, so you could cook wildly different meals. The material around the food would dictate the kind, speed, and amount of heat that would get in, as well as how much hydration would seep back in and how quickly. While not five-star dining like on her homeworld, this would still be as good as a local shop or one of those new terran cafes.

The second tray had a heavy full pound steak that was seared on both sides. Feyet had specifically chosen the extra rare version. A yellow block of some sort melted across the steak onto a pile of some sort of white fluffy stuff that it lain upon. A series of what appeared to be some sort of shredded grass was sprinkled lightly across the meat. It was clearly a choice cut with the marbling of fat visible, how it smelled almost as if the animal had just been slaughtered. The shape was strange, almost too perfect of a rounding on the ends.

Other tabs had some sort of green stalks that looked like tiny tree drawings which steamed and did not emit any scent. In addition to this were some orange ovals with a red-brown powder spread across them and a piece of some sweet smelling strange square with a dome-shaped orange-brown thing that barely fit into its hole was in the center. Beside that was a large amount of small pellets that looked like maggots but without segments; some sort of seed or plant piece that let out steam, smelling of salt. A black liquid was cut off in a very tiny cup in the corner of its hole, but by far these little white oval pellets took up the second largest area next to the steak.

Feyet did not let Scratches linger, somehow making a loud sharp popping sound by quickly striking her fingers to her palm. “Come on, two more.” Feyet pulled the cover off the next tray, and the inside smelled strange to Scratches. There was the smell of something made of meat, but it felt familiar, and the air gave her a feel of it tasted like nothing but also everything. If a smell could just be meat, this was it. There was also the smell of the plants that seemed to act as some way of changing the flavor. Before Scratches were six long thick strips of some sort of meat wrapped in a beige-brown substance that, when she reached over to touch it to inspect it, was hard like insect carapace. Above this was a bunch of yellow straws that smelled of salt, lots of salt. Scratches understood salt, but not using this much unless you were preserving something.

Next to that was something in some sort of white creamy liquid, several strands of various plants that were white, sickly-green, faded orange, and red, mixed together in some sort of blend. Beside that were small red-brown things that looked like a creature’s kidney in shape, covered in the red-brown mud that clearly gave them their coloring. They smelled like meat though, despite the fact that to Scratches’ perception, they were clearly some sort of plant seed, or perhaps a nut even?

Feyet unveiled the last tray, and inside it was a single circular container. That container had a brown, broth-smelling liquid with all sorts of things mixed in. Scratches recognized soup! This was soup, but it had many more vegetables than she wanted, along with several slices of juicy looking meat that appeared white like a bird’s, but were thick, fatty, and layered like a heavy animal. It reminded her of the quadrupedal animals that required the entire pack to take down and could take several minutes to find a chink in their hide that could be exploited to tear it open.

They were fiercely territorial. They would flat out eat an animal or smash a tribemate in their jaws with an ambush from the water, only to spit the flesh out and waste it since they were exclusively fruit eaters. They were also huge, almost all of them were around the size of Brute of Brutes, and they tended to wander in packs of ten or more. Only if one was caught out of the water, alone, and by a pack who was prepared to ambush it, could they hope to take one down, but the meat was just so good. It was always fatty, lacking gristle, and did not have much tendon to chew though It was tender, and that is what these strips of meat along the edge of the bowl reminded her of. Except they were thickly cut and solid white.

Further, some sort of beige string floated in the both effortlessly. Several pieces of green pungent plant floated there, circles with nothing in them and perhaps a quarter of one of her claws long, clearly chopped up. Two white circles with several points around their edges and pink swirls on top of them floated opposite the meat. A strange sort of fungus floated in the center of the noodles, along with a strange plant that, when Scratches leaned in to smell the red pieces, made her eyes water, and she could only think of a feeling of pain but as a flavor.

Feyet leaned over and nuzzled Scratches to get her attention and bring Feyet back into her focus. “Okay, so here we have meatballs with penne pasta and tomato and meat sauce.” She pointed at the first plate and explained what it was. Then she moved to the second. “This is a steak of an Arxur Heligon cattle. It is on top of this thing humans call mashed potatoes. We tend to use them a lot because potatoes grow anywhere and have a variety of ways to be cooked and served. That yellow stuff is butter. Trust me, it’s delicious. The green things are called green beans. They grow some variety of species everywhere in the galaxy. Somehow convergent…” Feyet sighed and nodded. “Right, Galaxy is the place where all the Gaias are, and the distance between them and their stars and suns. I’ll just tell you what the stuff is as you try it.”

Feyet felt sheepish and stupid for trying to over-explain what was probably just food to Scratches. The creature’s culture rarely cooked anything, mostly just plants or particularly tough or poisonous things to make them tender or cook off poison. Scratches started to reach for the steak but Feyet stopped her, offering Scratches a set of tools.

One looked like a tiny many headed spear, made of the shiny rock that the refrigerator was. The other was clearly a knife. The rock was flat, thinner than Scratches had ever seen and looked incredibly sharp. Her tribe had a few tools for things that claws were no good for, but this seemed silly. “What with tools and eating?”

Feyet nodded to her, trying to build up some of the motivation to work through all of this. She took the spear in her hand and the knife in her other, despite her injuries. She took the fork and pushed it through the steak that Scratches had been reaching for. Calmly, she used the knife to cut a perfectly square piece off. It was very red in the middle and pink at the layer between the outer brown and middle.

Feyet calmly rubbed it into the butter and scooped some of the potato mixture onto it. She then offered the fork to Scratches. “So, I would pick this off with my beak, but you can place the steak against your teeth, and it will slide off of the fork.”

Scratches took the fork awkwardly into her hand and slowly brought it up to her mouth. This piece of meat was much smaller than the bites she would normally take. She slowly placed it against the pointed ends of her teeth and slid the fork back, releasing her prize.

Scratches’ eyes went wide with how it tasted. It felt as if the meat was melting, but it was meat, how could it melt? The savory piece was full of different flavors, many were clearly not meat. The white smashed plant added to it, along with the textures! Thick mush somehow complemented the melting meat and a kind of slimy substance akin to burning water had formed, which Scratches assumed was the butter. She let out a very loud, almost embarrassingly loud, moan of pleasure.

Immediately as Scratches swallowed, she reached to stab the steak to get the whole chunk of meat, but Feyet stopped her claw, and now she felt angry. She looked up at Feyet, snarling and ready to bite her hand for daring to stop her from eating more of something that tasted better than the zaenies she had swallowed whole. That this gatherer would have the gall to stop her from devouring it whole!

“Scratches, calm, we need to make sure your stomach doesn’t react poorly. Okay?” Feyet reached over to the recessor tool and pressed several buttons. Glowing runes appeared above those buttons and they started to change. This made Scratches feel ill at ease, as the tool seemed to be changing on its own.

“See, it’s counting. When it reaches zero we’ll know you can eat it, okay? I know this is awful because you really seemed to enjoy that, but we have to be sure I don’t cause you any pain or suffering from eating the food, okay?” Feyet explained in slow gentle words with an evenly paced voice. She made sure that Scratches paid attention to every word she spoke. Scratches took it all in. Her mouth was deeply watering, and she had to suck in the saliva in order to prevent herself from drooling as Feyet had asked her.

“How much longer must I wait?” Scratches asked through a very wet mouth that sounded like it was difficult to talk.

Feyet reached across as softly as she could and gripped Scratches, holding her softly. “Count to twenty-one.”

Scratches looked confused. “What is twenty-one?”

Feyet had not accounted for her tribe simply calling anything beyond twelve many, because it would require more fingers and toes, unless you were a shaman or tribal leader who had to counter higher than that.

“Right, okay, we’re going to learn some higher numbers.”

Scratches looked even more flustered. “What is number?”

Feyet let out an exasperated sigh. She knew this was going to be something she would build upon. She reached over and cleared the recessor with a soft beep of acknowledgement. She managed to release some of the frustration and tension by gripping Scratches’ hand firmly. “Counting, numbers are counting. Specifically, the actual number without counting something, like one is a number, two is a number. Do you understand?”

Scratches took a second to process this information and tried to visualize it together with what she knew. “So when I say one but I am not actually counting, then one is a number?”

Feyet tilted her head knowing that wasn’t quite right, “Well, kinda, one as a word as an object is a number. So if I say one piece of meat,” Feyet pointed at the steak that Scratches had just gotten a piece of, “Okay, so count with me.”

Feyet began to count and waited for Scratches to count with her with each and every word. “One, two, three, four, five…” Feyet smiled to reassure Scratches as she counted with her, but she was not using their fingers or toes to count. It was all in her head. Feyet was genuinely happy; Scratches was incredibly intelligent and proving it again and again to her with every moment they spent together. 

“Six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve…” Feyet took in a breath and looked at Scratches. “Thirteen.”

Scratches hesitated as she tried to conceptualize the number, and after a moment she realized that thirteen simply was one more than twelve. “Thur-teeen,” Scratches managed with effort.

“Next is fourteen.” Feyet walked her through it, one number at a time. “Which is two counts of seven.”

Scratches followed, and so they worked up to twenty-one, with Feyet explaining each and every number to Scratches as combining two other numbers. “Twenty, is two tens put together. Now, we’re almost there.”

Scratches looked excited as her stomach made a grumbling growl for more food. 

“Is your stomach upset, or are you just hungry?”

Scratches, in the excitement, had just adjusted herself to seeing the food and smelling it; she was focused on learning these new numbers and forgot why she was learning them. “Hungry, very hungry.”

Feyet smiled. “Okay, the next number is twenty-one.”

Scratch nodded and cried, “Twenty-one!” She excitedly rushed the steak and stopped herself. She looked up at Feyet for a moment, a little confused. “I hungry, but I want you explain twenty-one to me first. I never feel that way.”

Feyet smiled and reached up with her injured hand and softly stroked the plumage of feathers on Scratches’ head, the red feathers unique to the top of her head and down her spine. Scratches felt a wonderful ripple of electric pleasure from the soft scritches. “Twenty-one is when you have ten and eleven together. Now go on, you should be good to eat the steak.”

And so, they spent their time between learning and eating. It took almost a full 2 hours for Scratches to eat all the food, or at least try it. The cinnamon covered carrots she did not like at all, which Feyet was happy to eat for her. Several of the other veggies were okay, but not something Scratches wanted to eat. However, by the time she started trying the soup, it was getting to room temperature and her stomach was protesting from all the different new things put into it.

Feyet slowly stood up, leaning heavily on the table. She tried to get Scratches up, and Scratches looked confused. “We still have food, we not done eating.” Scratches pointed at the various sides that were unfinished or partially eaten, as well as the completely untouched soup.

Feyet shook her head. “The food can be heated up again later, when your stomach finishes with it and we are hungry again. It will be fine. Come, we have to do something else, okay? The gauze needs to be changed.”

Scratches looked confused as Feyet led her back into the central room. There were several other black and blue panels in here. The thing about this room was that there were several computers on the walls and panels that could be taken out to access user interface items like keyboards or computer mice, even chairs and seating positions. But what they were here for was the nearly forgotten medical kit left on the floor.

Feyet had to get Scratches’ help to gather the supplies and bring them back to the bathroom. There, she took off Scratches’ bandage first. Feyet slowly unwrapped the work she had done a bit too tight and honestly in haste. She took water from the sink and a towel, slowly cleaning up the dried blood and ensuring the wound was completely cleaned out. She examined it. The wound was deep but very thin; it would take several days to fully heal, but Scratches definitely would not require stitches.

She took some of the alcohol and applied it to the now mostly sealed wound. It still stung just a tiny bit, but Scratches did not even feel the need to acknowledge the pain. She trusted Feyet as she finished cleaning the injury. Methodically, Feyet focused on re-wrapped the foot. She wanted to make sure that Scratches had both a proper tending and her bandage could still be flexible for the need to walk and run until it fell off from the gauze rotting away or being removed.

Feyet took in a breath as she sat on the toilet and started to take her bandage off slowly. After the outer layer was gone, every peel made her wince. Unlike Scratches’, which had a dedicated spot of blood about five layers deep, this was still wet in places as she slowly took off the bandage.

Scratches could not look away. She stared in horror at how much blood there was in the gauze. Finally, Feyet got all of the gauze off, her keratin wrist and almost up to her elbow covered in stains of blood with the scratch still torn open. With the gauze removed, it began a slow leak of deep red blood from inside. She let out long hisses of pain as she removed and almost had to tear the last of the gauze from her arm. Scratches reached for the bottle of alcohol and Feyet stopped her. “No, no, we can’t do that, not yet. We have to do something that will hurt…” Feyet gulped at what she would have to do next. “A lot.”

“How can healing hurt?” Scratches was very confused at the idea that someone would have to hurt you to heal you. She looked at Feyet with big helpless eyes. She was used to making a paste from a couple of plants and wrapping wounds in leaves, or licking them clean and wrapping a hide around them. She had seen many hunters die from wounds this deep when they rotted.

Feyet reached over to the kit with one hand, working the strange small sharp shiny tools and some sort of black thread too thin for use for clothing. It looked like such a thin thread could be torn very easily. She held her bloody arm up to the faucet and rinsed it, hissing at the water until her feathers were somewhat white again around the wound but mostly pink from the stains.

Feyet took in a breath. “Scratches, I need you to hold my arm perfectly still, but do not touch my wound, and no matter how much I complain about how much this hurts, I need you to tell me to keep going until I finish,” Feyet explained as she knew that painkillers or numbing agents were not an option. She needed to be fully aware and awake, even if they were still naked inside the bathroom.

Scratches gripped the arm firmly but made sure to completely avoid any sharp points on her claws, keeping her killing-claw extremely stiff to make sure it would not move. She looked nervously at Feyet, her breath elevated with her heart rate. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears like the first time she went with the pack to learn to hunt. 

Feyet pointed the sharp needle at her arm and pressed it into her skin, making Feyet hiss and wince. She shut one eye as tight as she could while pushing the needle across to the other lip of her wound. It would take several minutes between each crossing of her wound, the pain so incredibly shocking. It ached and screamed while the needle felt as shocking and burningly intense each time as when Scratches made the wound initially. She kept wanting to pull her arm away and stop, but she kept sewing.

She was halfway down when she finally laid back onto the toilet, panting, unable to bear inflicting any more pain on herself. Feyet closed her eyes as she tried to let out the pain and let her body relax a bit, trying to imagine the relief once this was over it would be over. She had eleven stitches in her arm and needed another six or seven to close the wound properly. She felt Scratches release her arm and thought that perhaps it was over, but only one of Scratches hands released. To this point, Feyet had been holding in any screams or shrieks of pain while hyperventilating between the needle pokes in order to stitch her arm. 

Now she felt a sharp, extreme pain in the wound and her eyes snapped open as she looked, worried about what just happened. Scratches had the needle in her free hand and had just lanced the wound, matching the other stitches, reaching across with her fingertips just below where the sharp heavy keratin claws started, the last part of her hand that had full feeling. 

“SCRATCHES!” Feyet wailed, and Scratches let go of the needle, making it hurt more when it tugged at the wound. She put her hand that had been holding the needle around Feyet’s beak to silence her.

Scratches’ other hand held Feyet’s wrist like it was a toy. “You said you need finish, no matter what, no scream or alarm go loud. Strange square thing make light and talk to person who you no like.” Feyet realized after a moment that, yes, in fact, she actually did not like Commander Hija. The call was the first time they had actually spoken, but the number of times they had exchanged messages… she really did not like how the commander constantly talked down to her or considered her a low priority, especially when she asked for the occasional luxury. Apparently, Scratches had picked up on that after that short conversation.

Scratches looking at Feyet as if she were a misbehaving child, reached over to the needle and pulled it across the wound to lance the other side. Slowly, Scratches worked the additional links into the wound all the way up to the end, despite the pain getting worse from how Feyet had made one continuous stitch instead of a series of individual ones, meaning the first stitch was still being pulled on. She wasn’t sure what to do now. Scratches wasn’t a crafter or a gatherer, so making clothing was beyond her.

In the meantime, Feyet had been doing everything she could with her other hand and body writhing from the pain. Her screams were stifled behind a shut beak held closed. Her eyes bulged out of her head in agony. This truly hurt an unbelievable amount as she screwed her eyes shut until it was over, then she slowly realized the pain was deadening. Scratches had stopped.

She turned to Scratches, who looked unsure how to proceed. “What do now?”

Feyet took the needle and pointed at the last stitch. “Hold the thread down so I can tighten it.” Scratches pinned the thread down, and Feyet let out a long growl of pain as she tightened the stitches until the flesh from the two sides of the wound met. Then she tied it off at the top, then bottom where Scratches was holding it tight. She quickly cut the thread on each end, with her body completely melting in relief. Both of them heard the needle clatter on the floor from the silence between them in their concentration. Their bodies relaxing as the task was completed.

Feyet collapsed against the wall the Toilet was attached to and almost fell to the floor as she let out all the tension in her body. “Scratches, gently but tightly, like your foot, use the wet cloth to clean my arm, then put a bit of alcohol on the wound, and wrap my arm in the gauze. use the metal pin to hold it once you’re done.”

Scratches understood all but one of those words. “What is metal?”

Feyet blinked a few times and realized that Scratches did not have bronze or copper material working, much less understand the advanced alloys that made up many of Feyet’s tools. She reached over and picked up the needle that was discarded on the floor. “This is made from metal. Your clothes are made from hides of your prey. The recessor, refrigerator, the walls, the fork, knife, all are made from metal. That is what metal is. It requires a lot of heat, more than you can make right now, and very special rocks to make.”

Scratches nodded, understanding. Within two minutes, they were walking back to the bedroom with full bellies, their wound dressings changed and Feyet’s wound properly tended, as well as a feeling of closeness and understanding they did not have before. As they got into bed together, Feyet stopped Scratches. Both of them were still nude, and it would be dark outside for five more hours at this point. She looked up at her with a deep blush. “Scratches, thank you.”

“Scratches have Feyet as mate, Scratches feel love for Feyet. You have work to help love, even if hurt,” Scratches replied in her simple way that struck Feyet to the core. First, Scratches had said love, which meant that was a concept that existed within her society; something Feyet wasn’t sure about, and second, love meant good things, but the way Scratches described it was a bit too simple.

Feyet cleared her throat. “You love your mate…” Feyet hesitated, because even with the imprinting of mates, love outright wasn’t something she could immediately describe. “When you love someone, you have to help them through the pain.” Scratches nodded in reply to that and leaned over to kiss Feyet’s beak.

“Scratches see why you need shimmer-walk, you are delicate and pain hard for you. Scratches—” Feyet interrupted Scratches by taking a risk and gently pinching her neck with her beak a few times. She leaned in close and affectionately pressed their bodies together as they sat on the edge of the bed admiring each other. 

Feyet felt safe and her body was warming up to the company. Her legs, however, were not recovered from just over half a day ago. She had an idea cropping up in her head. Scratches' tribe very likely had not engaged in oral at all. Considering the razor sharp teeth and the tongues that did not extend much past their lips to avoid said razor sharp teeth it was not exactly a good idea for them. “Scratches, do you trust me? I want to show you something special that Fjer can do that Uladon cannot.”

Scratches looked very skeptical towards Feyet and then finally she nodded. “What are you going to do?”

Feyet reached up and softly cupped Scratches’ breast with her uninjured arm. “First, I have to get you horny.”

Scratches let out an approving growl and closed her eyes. Though when she opened her eyes, tilting her head in that curious way Feyet had been doing with confusion in her voice. “What is horny?”

Feyet smirked and blushed as she looked up at Scratches’ face and met her mate’s soft sapphire gaze. “Wanting mating, Horny means to want to mate,” Feyet explained as she kept massaging the breast. She relaxed against the muscles in Scratches’ chest, softly bulging from a hard life and years as a hunter in training. Feyet kept kneading and massaging as the prominent length emerged from Scratches’ slit between her legs. She just needed the cock to get erect and the slit between her legs to get wet for this.

Finally, Feyet slid off the bed and ran her hand down Scratches’ belly, all the way over her abdomen to the erogenous zone just above her crotch. I should make her feel amazing, don’t care if I get anything from it, she deserves it. Scratches stared, trying to understand before Feyet fully opened her beak as wide as she could and lined things up. She needed her lower beak over the female part of her bi-sexed mate and the upper beak to move out of the way, so she twisted her head to a near 45 degree angle so that her upper beak would slide across the crease of Scratches’ upper hip.

“Why you open mouUUuuuTTH?” Scratches howled out as Feyet pushed the half-erect cock directly into her throat, right down her gullet and let herself suck on the length to try to swallow it. Meanwhile, her tongue wasted no time and darted out to lick at the nether lips of her mate. Both flavors were extremely salty, almost intolerably so. However, Feyet wanted to pay Scratches back for all her help, even if she inflicted the wound on her arm and all the bruises in her insides and on her hips.

Scratches felt the throat around her cock and was left speechless as she saw white everywhere except where her eyes were looking. She did not believe what she was seeing. Feyet had swallowed her cock and then pulled it out slowly, back and forth, providing her with pleasure. The tongue danced within her slit, deeper than any Uladon or Arrosus tongue could hope to push past the outer slit.

Feyet, for her part, ignored the lip-puckering salty taste. She just wanted Scratches to feel good. She knew her body couldn’t take another round of sex, but her throat… well, she didn’t actually have to talk much, except to herself or to her computers when she couldn’t use a pen. To her, this meant a beakjob would be perfect. Unlike species with lips, Feyet could skip the mouth for the cock and go straight into her throat, while being bi-sexed meant that she could play her tongue against the neglected pussy of Scratches. 

She pressed her tongue up and began to make a pattern similar to the one they had just stitched into her arm, bouncing off the inner and outer lips, searching for a clitoris, only to be reminded that such a part was buried in her throat at the moment. She slowly slid her head backward to get a breath and then pushed herself down until her throat bulged with the full completely erect length. She repeated the motion, bringing her feathered horns up to focus on the moans and gasps of surprise from Scratches.

Scratches had no idea what to do. She had never heard of nor seen such an act from her village. To risk one;s most sensitive spot and likely potentially inflicting an immense amount of pain was unthinkable. However, she realized with this shimmer-walker, no, Fjer, mate, her beak could provide a pleasure she had never imagined enjoying.

Scratches closed her eyes and simply enjoyed the feeling, her soft pussy was ignored last time and now it was bombarded with sensations of sinful delight. Her hard cock had not expected her mate to try to recover in less than a day, yet here they were, enjoying each other. At least she hoped Feyet was somehow enjoying this. Unknown to her, Feyet was simply doing this for her pleasure, at least physically. 

She felt Feyet’s hand and the bandage below her wrist against her arm and a soft grip pulling on it. She opened her eyes to see Feyet’s head bobbing back and forth, was slow and methodical, not fast or demanding. Instead, Feyet pushed herself as deep as she could go. Her neck bulged with the vague shape of Scratches’ member, and the outline made Scratches feel a sense of pride, both in how big she was to this creature and how well she could take her member.

Feyet placed Scratches’ hand against the back of her head and pushed down until Scratches took the hint to grip her head. Her own talon wrapped around Scratches’ hand and pushed and pulled gently to get Scratches to build a rhythm. Scratches took the hint and gripped Feyet’s head, but started to massage, rub and softly ran her claws along the back of Feyet’s skull. She was careful to not break skin. However, eventually Scratches caught on.

The hint was simple; the hand on Feyet’s head was the pace setter for telling Feyet what to do and what felt best to her. Scratches let out a cry of passion as she felt the tongue dive fully into her pussy, Feyet deepthroating her until she wasn’t sure if her cock would go through the long neck and into Feyet’s stomach at this point. Over and over again, Feyet bobbed and darted into and out of her mate’s crotch.

There was only a need to go slowly, to enjoy each other in a way that was not just the physical, but the act of pleasuring one’s mate thoroughly. Feyet pushed her head down and let Scratches hold her down as long as she wanted. She remembered the technique of breathing by waiting until something was clear of her throat and remembering to flex her esophagus rather than force the air through. It meant that when swallowing something, she could keep working it down without worrying about choking, but in this case, she could deep throat her mate for an unlimited time, so long as her throat wasn’t being restricted from the outside.

Scratches could not begin to describe how it felt. The tightness of the throat, the feeling of suction when Feyet inhaled around her length, the sweet rubbing of the beak against the scales around her crotch. The tongue darting into the nether lips was so relaxing and made her feel vulnerable in the best way.  

The tongue kept pushing its way up into her nethers over and over again. That was what was driving Scratches faster and faster towards the edge. She felt it, the building towards oblivion that she welcomed. Her body was heating up, making her pants louder and faster. “Feyet! Feyety!” She called out, trying to get Feyet to slow down, but calling her name had the exact opposite effect. Feyet’s tongue started to work as if it were a pinball in a machine, the walls were Scratches’ love tunnel. It was much more leathery than Feyet had expected, but she didn’t care. She kept sucking in air hard, because she noticed when she did that Scratches’ toes curled and her claw flexed against the metal tile, leaving claw marks that cut away the white paint and revealed the black layers of primer.

Feyet took pride in that, that she could make her mate lose control so much that she caused damage to the floor. She loved the feeling of Scratches softly massaging her head, letting out moans and mewls of her own that vibrated her throat, adding to the sensation. Feyet found Scratches adorably cute when her eyes shot open, bulging out of her head from the new sensations and variations of what her beak could do.

Scratches was getting close. No longer was she edging towards the end, she was racing to it, losing any effort to resist. Scratches pushed Feyet’s head all the way down and held her there, completely compressed against her crotch as the pressure escalated to the point where there was no turning back. Scratches was over the edge and gravity was about to kick in.

Feyet sensed it and turned her head back, stretching her beak to the limit. This let Scratches fit the last bits of her length into Feyet’s throat. Meanwhile, Feyet’s tongue pressed the base of itself at the back of her throat between the leathery outer lips of her mate’s slit. She held herself there, watching as Scratches’ entire body tensed and tensed, new heights of pleasure being reached until Scratches covered her mouth to try to keep her roar inside. Feyet heard the muffled screams and roars of pleasure as she watched her mate’s chest heave to release all the air in her lungs. A second later, she could feel the bulge of the first shots of creamy spunk working up Scratches’ long, meaty cock.

Feyet’s inner throat was lined with hundreds of feelers and nerves for the express purpose of detecting anything that might hurt her on the way down when she ate food. That meant she could track every glob of seed pushing its way up Scratches’ member and all the way down her throat until it fired out of the tip into her gut. Eventually it became a firehorse that took a full minute to even begin to taper off.

Meanwhile, her tongue was treated to a mixture that made her want to pucker, pull back, and screamed for her cheeks to recoil in the same way that biting into an overripe lemon or citron would. She willed herself to push through it and kept her tongue wriggling and writhing in the depths of her mate. She may not be as soft or as silken as herself, but Scratches was still her mate, and every ounce of pleasure she could squeeze out of her was another ounce of satisfaction and pride she took in herself.

Scratches was eventually reduced to leaning back slowly, only a few degrees of change with every pulse as she drifted back towards the bed. Her body stopped tilting every time a new spasm rocked her twin sexes, her stomach rippling as her muscles pulled and squeezed out another earth shattering jolt of ecstasy. Finally, Scratches’ head and back landed on the pillow and protested the position, but right now she did not care one bit. 

Feyet knew she was done when her mate’s hand left the back of her head and slapped against the bed softly, her mate utterly spent and used up. As delicately as she could, she slowly pulled the cock from her throat, ensuring she swirled and flicked her tongue as it pulled from Scratches’ lovely pussy. This got another groan and a shudder from Scratches’ body right as the heavy equine-shaped pride flopped from her throat to fire a full fistfull of jizz right into Feyet’s face.

The unexpected shot hit her in the eye and made her wince with the pain, but she did not express that it hurt. She just sat there in a moment of bliss, looking at how she had lain the mighty hunter lower with but her eight inch tongue and very flexible throat. She carefully tried to wipe her face but found the spunky liquid just smeared against her feathers, making it worse and acting more like glue than cum.

Finally, she gave up and slowly leaned on the bed to rise from her knees, curling up against Scratches’ side, who wrapped her arm around her back, unconsciously pining the spine of her mate, which took a few tries to get just right where it felt good and did not feel as if Scratches might irritate Feyet’s skin beneath her thick feathers. Her other hand gripped Feyet’s shoulder, only for Feyet to use the injured arm to slowly grasp Scratches’ hand, holding her lovingly while placing the hand on her hip to help keep her pressed firmly to Scratches’ side.

Scratches let out a growl that turned into a vibrating ripple, which Feyet realized was the bigger creature laughing. She looked at her mate with a grin. “Must introduce Feyet to village. Scratches be recognized as having mate.”

Feyet’s entire world exploded and crashed down around her as the color drained from her face. That was going to be a problem.