"I can't believe I'm letting you do this to me..."

"Relax, my friend," Feirn laughed. "That'll make it far more enjoyable."

"I'm not even interested in things like this!"

"Stop whining, Carle! You really need some good, honest fun, you know."

"Maybe, but this? We're both grown men! It's just not appropriate!"

"Yeah, right!" Feirn snorted, his tail wagging with irritation. "Start lecturing social ethics! Every time you want to get out of something."

"Well, pardon me! I just don't want to do it. I've got work to do!"

"Not tonight!"

"Yes, tonight! It's supposed to be done before Monday."

"Carle, shut up!" Feirn slapped the other's arm, making him whine. "Tonight, you're with me, and we're going to enjoy ourselves! Left to yourself, you'd work to your death. Besides, the fair only comes to town every two years. Miss it now..."

"Gladly!"

"Sour-puss!"

"Thrill-seeking pup."

"Thanks for the compliment, old wolf."

Still bickering, the two lupine men entered the fairgrounds, which covered most of the town's centre. Their outward appearances were very much alike; both were of average height and weight, well built yet quite slim. The only real difference was the colour of their fur. Carle was dark grey, with patterns of brown here and there, and had unkempt greyish-brown hair. Feirn, on the other hand, was a smooth light grey with no markings whatsoever, and his equally grey hair was cut short.

They found themselves face-to-face with a sea of colours, whipped by a storm of voices. Tail high, ears perked, Feirn looked around, memories of childhood fun coming back at full strength as he spotted youngsters darting hither and yon. All in search of amusement and excitement. Dragging the reluctant Carle with him, he reached a booth selling glazed pear slices, exchanging a coin for a sweet-smelling paper bag.

"Here, try one of these." Biting into one, he handed another to Carle. "They're so sweet!"

"I'll bet! Do you have any idea how hard it'll be to sleep tonight, if we eat that much sugar?"

"You are not going to sleep tonight! The fair goes on until way after sunrise."

"What about my work?"

"Mentioning it again will merit you this bag over your head. Let's see the lotteries!"

"Are you ten years old, Feirn? Did you lose thirty years of age, all of a sudden, and I just failed to notice?"

"Yup. All I have to do is steal a score-and-a-half of age from you as well, and we can start having proper fun. Look, they've got an archery stand! Win me something!"

"I don't shoot bows, Feirn, I'm a scholar!"

"You never know 'til you've tried. Go on, I'll pay."

Choosing from the available bows, Carle picked out one made from a sturdy willow branch. The targets were a little over fifteen metres away, and consisted of round wooden plates of varying sizes, the smaller rewarding more points than the larger ones. Readying an arrow, he aimed carefully, then let it fly. He hit one of the smallest plates dead in the centre. Repeating the feat, he chuckled slightly.

"To think I haven't held one of these for over twenty years." Placing the third arrow as well in the centre of a small plate, he handed the bow back to the gaping manager, flashing Feirn a smug grin. "Stripes don't wash away, eh? Pick a win, would you."

They had their evening meal at the fair, as well, choosing to dine in a large tent filled with the spicy smells of exotic food. Feirn put his large lion-doll beside his chair as he sat down at a free table, eyeing through the menu handed to him by a waiter. About half the dishes he knew well, the rest he had heard about, but never tasted, or hadn't heard about at all. Carle looked at his own menu for a brief moment, then put it back down.

"I don't know what's in more than a couple of these dishes. You know what I like, pick something for me, will you?"

"Okay. Just let me think a while."

After an hour of games, competitions, lotteries and side-shows, Carle's mood had changed. He had begun enjoying himself thoroughly. Takes a while to burn away the old man in me, he thought. To bring back the boy of so long ago. Watching fire-breathers and jugglers, betting on wrestlers or playing a game of dice which proved nigh impossible to win, had brought a smile to his lips, and a comical act on the largest scene had made them both laugh heartily. Seeing a pair of swordsmen displaying their skills in a mock fight had brought other feelings to Carle. A mixture of nostalgia and dread at seeing a part of his life long since gone, nearly played out again before his eyes. All the time, Feirn had dragged with him the lion-doll, large as a toddler.

"I just can't understand why you didn't pick a box of chocolates instead," Carle said as Feirn leaned down to pick up the doll, which had fallen over. "It does look heavy."

"It isn't. I think it's stuffed with cotton, no effort at all. Besides, this is a fair, you're supposed to win toys."

"You're incorrigible." He laughed. "Have you found us something to eat?"

"I think so. Horseradish pike, how's that sound?"

"Dangerous. You've had this before?"

"I was stationed way up in the snowy North once upon a time. You'll be surprised, it's actually quite mild."

"Hmm, if you say so. Myself, I wouldn't trust people who eat rancid fish to make my dinner."

"They do cook other things, too, you know."

"Oh, all right, Feirn. I'll trust you, instead." Grinning, Feirn placed their orders, adding a bottle of white wine. "Been a while since we had fish."

"We're a hundred kilometres from the coast, Carle. Fish is a luxury. We could move..."

"No thanks. My work..."

"Yes, yes, I know. Just a suggestion. There are some really nice coastal villages, you know. Think of it, the smell of fishermen's fresh catches. Isn't that tempting?"

"Very. We'll move some day, I promise. But not right now."

Sitting back, sipping his wine, Carle had a dreamy look to his face, as if his eyes couldn't quite focus on the present. The waiter picked up their empty plates, returning almost at once with a creamy dessert. Dipping his spoon, Feirn looked up to see that the other hadn't even noticed the arrival of ice-cream. When waving his hands failed to get Carle's attention, an impish grin crept onto Feirn's lips.

Carle was in another world, lifetimes away. The flavour-rich fish sat well in his stomach, and the wine had gone slightly to his head. Memories of other meals competed with the recent, thoughts of other people and distant kin taking precedence over his current company. Normally, he wouldn't think back like this, but stirring the old blood had...

The spoonful of ice-cream hit him right between the eyes, running down both sides of his muzzle. With a growl, he leaped to his feet, reaching down his side for a scabbard that wasn't there anymore. For a moment, Carle's eyes were fire, ready to burn whoever was responsible for this indignity. Then he caught sight of Feirn, almost falling off his chair from laughing, and he calmed down. The other wolf's giggles brought Carle all the way back to reality. With a wry smile he picked up his own bowl, and placed it upside-down on top of Feirn's head.

Newly washed, they returned to the fairgrounds. It had begun to darken, and the clientele of children had vanished, replaced by curious, expectant youngsters and equally excited adults. The jugglers and fire-breathers were gone as well, the stages now held by conjurers, athletic performers and exotic dancers.

They stopped for a while, watching two male tigers and a sleek, female otter perform a whirling dance, enticing the audience with their minimal clothing and their sensual movements, hands and bodies touching, all the while back-lit by a fire that kept changing colour. A low, rhythmic drum-beat kept their pace, adding to the magic of the show. Once this dance had ended, Carle pulled at Feirn's sleeve, dragging him across the street to a tent. Beside the opening was a sign; 'Performing tonight, Wesinnea, world-famous soprano'. The ticket salesman noticed his interest.

"Only fifteen minutes 'til the show starts, gentlemen. Five markers apiece."

"That's quite expensive," Feirn replied, automatically. "For some singing?"

"For a world-beater, sir. This kind of performance comes not often, let me remind you."

"He's right, Feirn. We'd miss a real treat."

"Oh, all right. Not that I'm too keen on singing, but..."

"You'll change your mind," Carle said, fishing out a large silver coin from his purse and exchanging it for two tickets. "You will change your mind."

Feirn quickly changed his mind, once the show started. Accompanied by a choir, the soprano performed songs that had long ago passed from old to ancient. Melodies sung in languages neither of them knew, or had ever heard spoken. Still, every word made its way into their hearts, as well as those of everyone in the audience. Her voice was like a waterfall, clear and fresh, every note vibrating, sparkling with life. Feirn turned his head to look at Carle, who had closed his eyes, his tail slowly wagging along with the song. His hands were moving slightly, as if he were conducting the singers.

Feirn himself had tears running down his cheeks. Never had he heard anything like this! All his life he had believed that beauty was a concept meant for sight alone, but now his ears conveyed to him something as beautiful as a crimson dawn, something filled with so much wonder that it made his heart ache. It was the sound of love, pure and unfalsified love. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine what the music looked like, and to his mind's eye came a face. The vision of love. Then the singing stopped, and the concert was over. He kept the image of the face behind his eyelids, and as he opened them it was still there. It smiled at his reddened eyes and his tear-stained cheeks. Smiling back, he reached out to stroke Carle's muzzle, taking his hand as they left the tent.

Outside, he tightened his grip on Carle's hand, pulling the other wolf with him down an alley, then into the densely forested town park. Carle followed, easily keeping up with the other's brisk pace. Every now and then, the smells and sounds of love-making made their way to their nostrils, and Carle had to remind himself that this wasn't uncommon practice. He had never dreamed of indulging in it personally, however, yet did nothing to resist the other wolf.

Feirn laid him down on a soft patch of grass, hidden from view by some low bushes. Unwritten laws, Carle knew, would keep others from intruding, or even taking offence. Feirn hugged him tightly, kissing his neck, then worked his way up until their lips met. So that's what music does to a soldier, Carle thought. He had been affected as well; touched, enticed, thrilled to hear such singing once more, but it had not made him aroused.

Now, though, feeling the close intimacy of a warm, gentle body rubbing all over his own, he felt himself respond in kind. Returning Feirn's kiss, as well as his caresses, Carle allowed himself to be seduced. Completely shut off from the world around them, they made passionate love, their bodies moving in unison to bring a shared, intense peak. Hissing with pleasure, Carle sank to the ground, feeling Feirn's all but spent body press down heavily on top of him. They kissed weakly, cuddling for a while before rearranging their clothes, returning to the fairgrounds as if nothing had happened.

Near the square, there was a show of technology. A mechanical horse, looking uncannily like a miniature of a pony, walked around at the front of the stage, occasionally rearing or whinnying. The show host would pick it up every now and then, rewinding its clockwork engine, then release it again. To the left of the stage, a juggler wearing magnetic gloves kept balls made of iron afloat in the air, without even touching them. To the right, laser beams drew wonderful patterns in the smoke from a small fire.

But the main act was in the centre; a holographic projector that created the most fantastic images. The show started when a group of people suddenly appeared on the stage, moving about and talking, but as one of them reached the juggler she passed straight through him. Once the fake people disappeared, an image of the solar system appeared, and the host explained what they were looking at, naming planets and moons, telling some of their history. Nothing of this was new to Feirn, and it looked to him as if Carle was also fairly familiar with technology. To most of those gathered, however, the display equalled magic, both in the way it made them react and in the reverent hush that followed every new trick. The old world is all but lost to us, Feirn thought, and I can't make up my mind whether that is a good thing or a bad.

His train of thought was interrupted as Carle tugged at his sleeve, dragging him along to the square. Even before they were there, Feirn knew what to expect. The cheerful music and the murmur of voices told him all he needed to know. There was dancing. A small band performed, playing a happy, up-beat tune, nothing like the soft, gentle singing they had heard a while ago. Equally exciting, albeit in a different way. Next to the band's stage were some low wooden racks, covered with various items and possessions the dancers had left there. Unspoken rules kept everything placed on these racks safe from theft, yet Feirn still seemed a tad concerned about leaving his precious lion-doll behind.

Carle insisted, however, and soon they were out in the middle of the square, joining a score of other pairs moving in rhythm to the music. They danced through a couple of songs, breaking a sweat as they did their best to keep up with the fast-paced beat. Then the band started playing a soft, slow tune, and the two wolves moved closer, holding each other tight as they danced. Words seemed redundant, so they settled for looking deep into each other's eyes. Feirn found himself basking in the radiance of Carle's love, feeling himself returning the same gaze, filled with need, desire, longing and love. Before the song ended, they shared a long kiss, not breaking apart until the next up-beat song began. Leaving the make-shift dance-floor, they stopped to pick up the doll before moving on. Carle felt his renewed arousal calm down, telling himself all in due time.

"I keep forgetting what a marvellous dancer you are," Feirn said, leaning closer to lay his head on Carle's shoulder. "After tonight, I won't."

"I had the best of teachers."

"How come I never knew your story, Carle? We've been together for what, eighteen years? And I still know naught of your previous life."

"Nineteen, my love." Carle reached up to touch the other's face, enjoying the purring sound this invoked. "As for my past, I hope you never do find out. I'm not very proud of it."

"Nothing about you could deter me, Carle. Nothing."

"What a sweet thing to say. Maybe I will tell you someday, but not tonight. I'm not through enjoying myself yet."

"That bad, eh?" Feirn grinned, yanking the other's tail. "You're a highwayman, right? That's where you learned to shoot a bow. No, wait! A murderer, escaped from your just sentence, hiding and masquerading as a lowly writer. Am I right?"

"No. Leave it, please."

"All right. Look, lottery wheels! Hang on, I want to try and win some candy."

On his fifth attempt, Feirn won a small bag of chocolates, grinning happily as he fed Carle one, then popped one into his own mouth. Slowly pacing along, they now reached booths of merchants, displaying everything from old books to weaponry, from cheap toys to expensive jewellery. While Carle eyed through the book cases, Feirn bought himself a shirt, then went to have a look at various toys; mechanical devices, stuffed dolls, puzzles and games. He bought a new catch-ball, thinking to throw away the old, worn-out one for good. Turning around to look for Carle, he spotted the other just leaving a jewellery booth. As could be expected, he was already carrying a heavy bag of books.

"Carle, catch!"

Barely waiting to see that he had the other's attention, Feirn tossed the ball to him. Carle took a step aside, then pounced, his jaws snapping shut around the ball. Shaking his head, Carle muttered something unintelligible.

"What's that you're saying?" Feirn asked, cupping his ears. Carle spat out the ball into his hands. "Ah no, you've drooled all over it!"

"I said, you always were one for toys." Laughing, Carle held his bag open. "Here, put it in. You can play when we get home."

"Speaking of home..."

"Feirn, we've seen nowhere near everything yet! It can't be much past midnight."

"I was just thinking, maybe we should go home and drop off all these things."

"Hmm, now that's a good idea. Then some more dancing?"

"Or something off the grill. I'm getting hungry."

Half an hour later, Carle paid the cheerful cougar who kept the grills fired up, and they each received their meals. While Feirn hacked in on a skewer loaded with meats and vegetables, Carle felt his mouth water at the sight and smell of his own dish of various sausages and fried potatoes. Both kept stealing from the other, growling and snarling and laughing all the while.

There was a commotion further down the street, and Feirn could hear a woman's voice shouting abuse at someone. Then he spotted a lithe, young otter boy, ducking through the crowd while holding on to a purse far too feminine to be his own. Putting out his leg, he tripped the otter as he passed by. Crashing to the ground, the boy dropped the purse, which Carle swooped up while placing his foot on the thief's neck, keeping him pinned down. The woman, a young lioness, beamed with delight at getting her purse back. She thanked them both with a kiss to the cheek when they wouldn't accept a monetary reward. Before she left, she kicked the thief in the mid-section, and Carle held on to the grunting otter until he was picked up by the local authorities.

"What do you think they'll do to him?" Feirn asked, just loud enough for the shivering thief to hear. "Chop his fingers off?"

"Either that or burn-mark him," Carle answered. "Depends on whether the victim wants to press charges."

"What do you think they'll do?" Feirn asked again, once the otter was out of hearing range. His voice sounded slightly concerned this time. "Nothing too bad, I hope."

"No, they'll lock him up, then release him in the morning, I'd guess. Depends on how much he's been stealing during the night. Pick-pocketing isn't that heavy a crime."

"Finish your snack, Carle. I want to see if there's any jousting this year."

There was. A board, half a metre wide, had been raised a metre-and-a-half above the ground. Padded sticks provided weaponry, and people could either fight each other or choose to challenge one of the three Fair Champions.

Strutting like a young rooster, Feirn picked up a stick, nodding to the largest of the Champions. Accepting the challenge, the huge tiger flexed his impressive muscles, striking a pose for his audience. The two of them climbed the board, while Carle looked on, a wry grin playing across his muzzle. The bigger they are, he thought, glancing to the sand-pit beneath the board. You're up against a decorated ex-soldier, my feline friend. The joust was over in ten seconds. The tiger let Feirn have first swing, and the wolf struck high, feigning off-balance, then swept away the counter-strike. The tiger was good, however, and parried two ferocious blows from Feirn, before the third caught his leg, sending him to a grunting impact against the sand below.

Feirn bowed to the cheering audience, then turned as the second Champion, a tall chimpanzee, leapt nimbly onto the board. Changing tactics, Feirn waited for the monkey to strike first, then parried and hit back. Catching his opponent across the shoulder, Feirn sent him off the board, bowing once more. Around him, Carle could hear familiar voices; friends, neighbours, fellow townsmen, all were now talking about Feirn. Though Carle couldn't make out the words, he could hear that they were impressed.

The third Champion was a young dragoness, a head shorter than her wolfen opponent and about half his size. He'd better watch it this time, Carle thought. The girl was not there because of strength, so she had to compensate with skill. Again, Feirn waited for the other to open, but as she kept dancing about just outside his reach, he grew impatient. Striking prematurely, Feirn was caught off-guard as she dodged his blow, and he received a thunderous strike to the side of his head. Unable to help himself, the wolf landed face first in the sand. Within seconds, Carle was there to help him up, checking him for injuries.

"I'm fine, Carle. Don't be a fuss!"

"That was some fall! How could you let yourself get tricked like that? It's obvious she wanted you to attack."

"Go on, then, show me how to beat her. The host said she's been undefeated for three years."

"Now, Feirn, please. I've told you, I am a scholar. I don't fight."

"But you shoot a bow better than the entire archery regiment at Toussa! I have a gut feeling saying you could take her."

"With you already in my arms?" Carle grinned. "Come on, I've told you, I won't fight."

"Won't..."

"What?"

"You said won't, Carle. Not can't. Show me what you're made of!"

"Promise me one thing," Carle said, sighing. "Don't ask. Please don't ask."

"I won't. That's a promise."

Paying the host a half-marker coin, Carle searched carefully among the sticks until he found one whose balance he liked. As he climbed up onto the board, Feirn noticed how his friend changed. The timid scholar was gone, and in his place was a warrior. Carle's footing was as sure as if he had been standing on the solid ground, and not on a swaying board, way up in the air.

Swinging a couple of times to check his balance, Carle assumed a fighting stance Feirn had never seen before. The dragon girl again started dancing, tempting Carle to strike first. When he lashed out at once, she was caught slightly off guard, and had to parry his blow. Moving with a speed way beyond anything Feirn had ever seen in him, Carle struck once, twice, forcing the girl backwards, desperately parrying. Then she leaped up, somersaulting over Carle's head to land behind him, ready to strike. Her blow caught him in the ribs, making him lose balance. Seeing this, she attacked, but at the last moment she realised her mistake. Feirn saw it, too; the slight smile that played across Carle's muzzle before he sprung up, meeting her in mid-air and striking the stick out of her hands. As they landed, he jabbed her in the stomach, making her lose balance. One more swift blow, and she fell off the board, landing on her rump in the sand. Bowing shortly to the crowd, Carle stopped to accept a goldish-looking medal from the stunned host, before re-joining Feirn. Smiling wryly, he held out his arm, and Feirn grabbed it automatically.

"Shall we go?" He led Feirn away from the commotion, accepting a few congratulations and cheers, but avoiding most of the crowd. "You know, jousting is a bit like playing chess. You have to think ahead."

"I shan't ask, Carle. I shan't. Lucky thing I'm not a cat, though, or I'd probably die from curiosity. That was outstanding!"

"Thanks." He kissed Feirn's cheek. "Let's find something to drink, then go back to the square."

"Feel like more dancing?"

"Are you joking!? That stirred my blood! I can go on all night."

"The night's coming to an end," Feirn said, pointing to the east, where the stars were straining to compete with the first rays of pre-dawn light. "But I guess we'll have time for at least a couple of dances."

"And then, a dance of joining?" They stopped by a drinks merchant, accepting two mugs of a strong red wine. "A dance of body and soul?"

"If you will..." Feirn giggled, nearly spilling his wine. "If you will."

Like Feirn had said, they were able to dance through a couple of songs, before the music stopped and a loudspeaker crackled to life.

"Ladies and gentlemen, daylight is approaching, and it is time for our fair to end. The salesmen will keep open until midday, but the festivities are over. Now, if you look away from the dawn, we shall celebrate the passing of night."

Feirn and Carle turned to gaze westwards, just in time to see a show of fireworks begin. Plumes of swirling colours exploded on the deep blue almost-night sky, and the air was filled with the sharp sulphur smell of gunpowder. The aahs and oohs of the crowd surrounded them as Carle laid his arm around Feirn's neck, pulling him closer into a gentle embrace. When the noisy display reached its crescendo, the two of them were oblivious; locked in a deep kiss, they were making fireworks of their own.

The sun was well up when Feirn closed their bedroom door, tossing his jacket over the back of a chair. Carle had laid down on top of the bed covers, his arms out-stretched. He was purring with delight as Feirn sat down next to him, rubbing his stomach. But as he felt his shirt being lifted, Carle sat up, straightening his clothes. He gently pushed Feirn's hand aside, ignoring the hurt expression on his face.

"Carle, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all." Suddenly, he seemed fidgety, indecisive, and Feirn reached out to stroke away a wisp of hair from his forehead. "Nothing is wrong."

"Then why do you shy away? That's not like you."

"Nothing is like me. Not even myself. Feirn, will you forgive me?"

"Forgive you? For what?"

"For stalling. For postponing and stalling, all these years. For not doing this long ago."

"That wine went straight to your head, didn't it?"

"Not at all." Carle got to his feet, then fell to his knees before a baffled Feirn. He fished out a small box from one of his pockets, and then opened it. The sight of two plain, golden rings made Feirn lose his breath. "Feirn, my love, will you marry me? Be my mate and my love for the rest of our lives?"

His vision suddenly obscured by tears, Feirn found that his voice was failing him. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. The word he was looking for had stuck in his throat. Taking a deep breath, he tried again.

"I... I... Oh, Carle!" He threw himself around Carle's neck, whispering into his ear. "Yes. Yes, of course I will. B-but...?"

"But what?"

"Why now?" Breaking the hug, Feirn leaned back to catch Carle's gaze. "Why so completely out of the blue?"

"Because of two things." He kissed Feirn's nose, making his whiskers twitch. "First, because tonight you showed me how to live. I must have forgot it, since I tried to resist you. I had so much fun tonight. Second, well, I landed my eyes on these rings at the jeweller's booth, and I thought they would be perfect as engagement rings."

"They're lovely." Tears still flowing, Feirn allowed Carle to slip a ring onto his finger, then held it up into the morning sunlight to watch it shine. "So beautiful..."

"I should have asked you to marry me a long time ago, Feirn. I'm sorry I didn't. Now, I almost feel we're too old. So much of our lives already spent."

"Carle, no! You can't think like that! That's how you forgot how to live. We have been together, haven't we? We've travelled together, we've had fun, we have loved. We've had plenty of life together, even if we weren't married."

"So you think it's okay?"

"Of course it is!" Suddenly, Feirn's face turned serious. "But what about your work? When will we find the time..."

"Forget the work! If they want those paragraphs written, they can find someone else to do it. I'm getting married, then I'm leaving this town for good."

"Carle!" Giggling, Feirn hugged his husband-to-be. "Have you gone completely insane?"

"Yes! I have. I'm going to take you to the coast, my love. Where we can have fresh fish every day, if we want to. Who's to say we even have to stay on this continent?"

"You're off the rocks!"

"I don't want to stop living again." Grabbing Feirn's cheek fur, he locked eyes with him. "I can't stay here anymore, I need to move. Anywhere, as long as you come with me. Money is not an issue, I have plenty."

"So I've seen." Feirn held up his left hand, touching the golden ring. "This is pure gold, must've cost half a fortune."

"So it did."

"You were a highwayman, weren't you? This is from blood money!"

"Promised not to ask, Feirn..."

"Yes, but not to keep from joking. You can't hurt anybody! Wherever this money of yours is from, I'm sure it's good and clean."

"It is. What do you say, want to see the world?"

"Anytime." Grinning, he suddenly shook his head. "Anytime, that is, except right now!"

Feirn ran his hand along the inside of Carle's thigh, causing a gasp and a short yelp as he reached his crotch. Caressing and stroking, he made Carle throw his head back, purring with delight. They paused to remove each other's clothes, then lay down together, kissing and fondling one another. Carle kissed his lover's neck while he stroked him, every movement of his gentle hand causing Feirn's body to shiver and jerk. In the strong morning sun, they could see every shift of pattern in each other's fur; Feirn's smoothly light grey, and Carle's dark grey and brown. Feirn traced the brown patches with his fingers, making Carle shudder with pleasure. A shudder which was accompanied by whimpers and heavy breathing as the grey wolf kissed his way down his stomach. The strong scent of Carle's arousal filled Feirn's nostrils as he licked his bellybutton, working his way even further down.

When evening came, they lay sleeping in each other's arms, having finally spent themselves by making love over and over again. Feirn stirred slightly, opening his eyes to watch the sleeping wolf by his side. His future husband. The thought made him dizzy. Kissing the closed eyelids, he thought back to their night of fun, and their day of ecstasy. He had discovered, or rather awakened, a wild streak in Carle. A fiery passion in the mild scholar that he had only glimpsed before. All the promises, he knew, were valid. They would move out, would travel across the world. Feirn knew that he had been wrong when he thought his life was perfect. He had been happy living with Carle, that was true. He had realised his dream of settling down to a quiet, laid-back life.

Yet...

There was a tingle of excitement running down his spine. This new Carle, he didn't want to lose him! Touching his ring, Feirn smiled to himself. He wouldn't. Whatever happened, he wouldn't lose him. The bundle of fur next to him stirred, and before long, he found himself looking into Carle's eyes. Yawning, Carle flashed him a toothy grin, pulling him down into a kiss. Returning it, Feirn lay down, moving closer to his lover. You were wrong, Carle, he thought, and I think you've realised it. Our lives aren't going towards their end, they're just beginning! With that thought, he gave in to Carle's shower of kisses and caresses, losing himself completely in their re-awakened, passionate love.