Grey on Grey

"A perfect view," the snow leopard drawled, making a final adjustment to her monitor by turning off the audio. Her preparations complete, Chand'ra curled up on her chair by the command board. She watched the activity below in the courtyard of Cats' Lair in blissful silence. Tygra and Panthro were washing the grime off the large vehicle that provided the household with both transport and defense. The unusually excessive heat of the spring morning hinted at the broiling summer soon to come.

Chand'ra assessed the physical qualities of the two males below, a frivolous exercise designed to ease the boredom of her watch. Both had forgone their tunics, leaving their torsos exposed. "I wonder when they will strip off their trousers," she purred. She made a note on her writing pad, and circled the words: Tygra First. She tapped the stylus against her grey-white chin. "After all, he has thicker fur than Panthro, a sign of his northern heritage." She chuckled. "Besides, I have to evaluate their n'tun for this study to be complete."

The architect suddenly made an amazing backward leap. Panthro's attempt to douse his friend with dirty water from a waste bucket had failed miserably. From the smug expression on the tiger's face, it was obvious that he believed he had gained the upper hand. Not only had he apparently cast an insult at the short-tempered panther, but he had escaped punishment. His black eyebrows arched with glee.

Tygra's fur, a staggering blend of orange, cream, white and black, made him stand out from his two-tone grey companion. The architect was taller, but not as sturdily built as the engineer who now stomped his feet in mock rage. The panther, although only slightly shorter, clearly carried more muscle. "In either case, it is nicely arranged on both," Chand'ra quipped, her eyes lingering a little longer than she had intended on the lighter area of grey fur covering Panthro's broad chest. Without warning, her face flushed, and for an instant, she wondered if her feeling heralded the advent of fertility. "Nonsense," she grumbled, dismissing the irritating thought. "My cycle is unlike most females. It occurs not every Thunderan season, but rather every two. I have some time before I must worry about the inconvenience again."

Updating her scorecard, she suddenly recalled a comment Talitha had made about her mate. "When Tygra gets a little older, and his metabolism begins to slow, I wonder just how fat he'll get. That sweet tooth will surely do him harm," the mystic had said critically. "I wonder how often I will have to let out his clothes."

The priestess put her hand to her mouth to suppress a giggle as her mind mentally added weight to the self-conscious tiger. "When your firm belly sags, how fast will you be then, Tygra," she teased. "Panthro will one day have his revenge."

An unexpected shiver ran through her. An image of Ba'sir, the black panther who had rescued her and her comrades from Zeran slavery, had replaced that of the architect. In the incredibly tall merchant's true obesity, she could find nothing amusing. While enjoying his hospitality, she had marked each time his green eyes had caressed her with both curiosity and desire. Despite the gratitude that she had felt for him for the gift of her life, her own dancer-born prejudices had filled her with revulsion when confronted by his extraordinary size. Pity quickly replaced disgust. Who am I to make such a judgement? What horrors has he seen and endured that he must armor himself with such fat? she wondered. The taunt muscles of her abdomen tightened with shame. The game had ceased to be fun.

*****

The examination table in the sickbay was too hard. Chand'ra shifted slightly to reposition her head on the pillow, the only comfort given her prone body. "No movement, please," murmured the white tigress who leaned over her. Her furrowed brow and tightly closed eyes indicated that the mystic concentrated deeply on her task.

"Sorry," the snow leopard answered. To keep her mind off her discomfort, Chand'ra studied the wispy trails of blue light that flowed from the younger female's hands and danced over her flat belly. The pressure of her friend's touch and the prickly sensation of her power were not unpleasant, but felt strange, as if a thousand tiny fingers played with her fur.

Talitha withdrew her power, and the light streams faded. "You can pull up your ak'ti, and redo the lacings on your trousers, Chand'ra. I have finished," the mystic said, rubbing her eyes. "It is as you suspect. You are not in fertility."

"Thank the gods," the snow leopard muttered. She jumped off the table, then quickly rearranged her clothing.

Making no comment on her remark, the white tigress added. "Your hormone levels suggest that your fertility does not come to you as frequently as other females."

"That is true, and has always been so."

"I might be able to--"

"No need!"

The mystic blinked in confusion. "You don't desire a regular cycle?"

"No."

"This irregularity could jeopardize your chances for a conception when you wish to try."

"What makes you think that I want a cub, youngster?" Chand'ra growled.

"Oh," the mystic answered softly, her eyes downcast with embarrassment. "Forgive me for prying."

The snow leopard's face warmed with shame. The younger Felinaria had already experienced pregnancy. However, what should have ended in joy had terminated in tragedy when the leader of the Mutants had slain her cub. I should have not forgotten this great loss that she has suffered, Chand'ra scolded herself as she adjusted her tunic. She placed her hand upon the shorter female's shoulder. "Your question has not given offense. You were just being a mystic." She hesitated, looking for the right words of explanation. "I am a jan'nirri, but I have been a priestess and temple dancer for a longer time. Because of my devotion to Syrii, I never desired cubs." A good half-truth, a'drin'a, she thought in self-complaint. You also have never wished to be tied down with the responsibility of a cub or a male.

The mystic's sapphire eyes saw through her to the full truth. She gave her a slight smile that bore more hurt than mirth. "I was reluctant to have cubs. I dreaded the physical adjustments and the imprisonment. However, what I have experienced has changed me somewhat. I still don't like the horrendous changes of the body that occur, but now, I know that they are truly fleeting in nature. Only with loss did I finally understand the preciousness of the gift. The sacrifice of freedom is a small price to pay for such a treasure."

"I hear it in your voice so clearly: you still miss your daughter," Chand'ra commented with sympathy.

Talitha shrugged. "But what I feel changes nothing. Maybe she will be reborn one day."

"Your fertility will most likely come to you next spring. Will you and Tygra try again?"

Tugging nervously the corded belt that encircled her waist, Talitha answered, "I honestly don't know if I will be ready." She straightened the sleeves of her blue robe. "But Tygra will understand, no matter what I decide. Of this, I have no doubt."

How wonderful to be so sure of one's lover, Chand'ra thought. She rubbed her chin in reflection. Or how burdensome the predictability. The snow leopard studied the peaceful expression that had melted the solemnity from Talitha's features. I have known passion and sex, but never such a love, and yet, I don't envy her. She has forever lost part of herself. What she might have gotten in return can never replace what is gone.

Her thoughts drifted back to what she had observed from the control room, and her body cried out once again for pleasuring. What Lynx-o offered seemed to be no longer sufficient, but it had not troubled him. The lynx had encouraged her to go after the panther, for he had his own designs upon the historian. The artisan had developed a fascination with Cheetara despite the fact that he could not currently bed her in her vastly pregnant condition.

But there is only so much I can offer you, Panthro! Chand'ra reflected. Companionship and passion and joining, I will give you freely, but I cannot offer you the devotion that Talitha bestows upon Tygra.

Her mind filled with a vision of the panther's amber eyes. Talitha touched her wrist, and dissolved the image. The snow leopard felt sick. By the Gods! Does she know if I have already lost this battle?

"You cannot fight destiny," the mystic sighed. "Another lesson I have reluctantly learned."

*****

Chand'ra stood naked before the long mirror that hung on one wall of her room, and appraised herself. Her face, although plain, displayed strength in the prominence of her cheek bones and high-bridged nose; her mane had thickened and had lengthened, reaching well below her shoulder blades. The spots on her grey-white body had darkened to a rich black. The female ran her hands over her breasts and hips. She marked the curves that proper nutrition had created. She stretched and observed the play of the firmed muscles beneath her fur, pleased at her condition. The mystics had healed her crippled legs. The braces that Panthro had devised had helped support her limbs until time and exercise had fully restored them. The day those braces came off was one I won't soon forget, Chand'ra thought.

The snow leopard offered a brief prayer to Syrii and began to move. Although she had not performed the intricate maneuvers of the Dance for some time, her body had not forgotten the steps. Her quarters were small, but an absence of excess furniture, and the careful placement of what remained, left a wide area in which she was free to move with abandon. She ran through several sequences, her image precisely mirroring each leap and twist. I will dance for you this evening, Panthro, before I devour you in joining, she decided, completing the progression of difficult steps with ease.

Chand'ra touched the mirror. "How can we lure him?" she asked her twin. "He has wanted us since our trip to Trinacria, but he has shown us great respect by waiting for us to issue the invitation for joining. He guessed correctly that even though we also desired it, we could not give freely of ourselves until Pum'y'ra had found her voice, and had healed."

She traced the intricate design carved into the mirror's frame as she recalled the recent changes in the Lair. The arrival of Pum'y'ra's birthday had freed her and the youngster of their last painful bonds to slavery. Somehow the elderly snarf had succeeded where the healers had failed. After many suns of silence, Pum'y'ra had spoken her thanks for her birthday feast. She had enriched the celebration with the gift of her healing to the delight of all present.

That night after the feast had ended, and the priestess had prepared to take the night watch, she had detected a change in Panthro. Had it been the intensity in his eyes that had told her that she must act soon. "Only the gods know where this will go," Chand'ra said pensively. "I hope I am right in believing that he is like me, and does not wish to be tied to one mate." She tapped the glass, then frowned. "We have both been secretive about our feelings. How far can one who is blind lead another who is also blind?"

Not finding an answer to her question, the snow leopard twirled across the room. She flopped onto her bed. Soft southern light filtered through the gauzy curtains adorning the windows. How do I make the invitation? she wondered.

A delicate breeze lifted the edge of the curtain. Like the wings of an in'risi, came the air's reply.

The female rolled onto her side, and reached for the knob on her nightstand. From the recess of the single drawer, she pulled several squares of silk, a welcoming gift from the Balkins, the best weavers in the region. Sitting up, she studied the colorful collection spread across her bed. "Red is far too obvious, and black too somber," she muttered to herself. She fondled the pile, admiring the softness and sheen of the fabric. A square found its way into her hand. "Perfect," she commented, admiring the blue threads that contained a hint of grey and white. "The color of a summer sky pregnant with the possibility of rain. Subtle, just like the two of us," she remarked, the sudden urge to laugh at the untruth tormenting her.

Chand'ra lay back on the bed. She caressed her neck with the square, then the curves under her arms. She ran the silk over her breasts until she could see her pink nipples poking with excitement through the white fur of her chest. The square tickled her belly, and made the pleasure grow between her thighs. The priestess stroked her sex until her body ached under her touch. The silk grew wet with her scent and her satisfaction. The snow leopard held back her roar of delight, fearful that the sound might escape through the open windows. She did not linger in the relaxation that followed her pleasuring. She sat up, and reached again for the pile of silks. Chand'ra carefully wrapped her intimate offering with a white square.

She walked over to the clothes chest, and removed from its depths a small wooden box that she had taken from storage when she had outfitted her quarters. The carved pattern of intertwining vines and flowers suggested the eastern origins of the artisan who had made the box. The erotic significance of the design would not be lost on the grey panther who hailed from the same region. The priestess opened the hinged lid, and carefully placed the white packet inside the box. She held the container in her palms as reverently as a temple offering. "I hope you like my invitation, grey one," she murmured.

Sounds of laughter rose up from the courtyard. Chand'ra approached the windows. She pulled back the curtain and watched the group below. Panthro and Tygra fought with staves in mock combat while Lynx-o and Talitha each cheered their champion.

Chand'ra nervously tapped her fingers on the box. She glanced at the brown traveling pack leaning against the foot of her bed. All is ready for the night, she concluded. My duties are done for the day. Our king will grant me permission to journey to the Balkin village at my choosing. The grey one will take over the control board at midday from Lion-o, and be trapped until dinner. Once he is occupied, I'll sneak into his room, and leave my offering. Then, I can make a clean escape.

After Tygra takes over the watch, Panthro will go to his room to wash, as is his habit before dinner. He will discover my gift, and desire pursuit. He is clever. He will find a reason to go to the Balkin village that Lion-o will believe. He will insist on taking the Thundertank for his journey. Since he will be safe in that vehicle, our king will not only permit him to travel at night, but also not press him for a report once he arrives at his destination.

Chand'ra smiled. The grey one is a warrior, and my equal. He knows his task will not be easy. He will have to hunt for me away from Balkin town.

*****

Chand'ra stood in a glade that skirted the River. The air was cool, and the night sky clear. The stars slowly turned in their course. The Great Horse danced with the Twin Fishes across the sky. A wanderer shone bright and steady. The waxing crescent had already begun its descent to the west, its light barely discernable through the thick collection of trees behind her.

The snow leopard knelt, and took a drink. She felt rather smug as she dried her mouth with her sleeve. Those in the Lair knew that she had reached the Balkin village. She had reported, as she had promised Lion-o, by using a personal communicator, another of Panthro's electronic creations. Her report had virtually guaranteed that only the grey one would follow her after his watch, for the others had relinquished their concern for her safety. Escape had been easy from the second-story room at the Balkin inn. After dusk, she had simply vaulted out the window unseen, a basic maneuver for anyone jan'nirri trained.

A twig snapped. In an instant, the spotted female scaled the nearest trunk. She flattened against a large branch dressed with the new buds of spring. Listening and watching, she soon earned her reward. A shape, tall and well-formed, followed the trail that she had purposely left by the water's edge. It unknowingly passed the bush behind which she had hidden her pack.

Panthro halted, then folded his arms. The muscles of his chest strained the tunic that he wore. "Now where in the seven hells did she go?" he asked himself, frustration coloring the rumbling tones of his deep voice. He looked for an irregularity in the trees, but grunted in dissatisfaction. The great limb shielded her well. The panther sniffed the air. "Nothing!" The gentle breezes favored her, for he had not detected her scent.

Panthro picked up a pebble, and tossed it into the wood. "Even a jan'nirri can't fly! I'll go that way," he muttered. "It's as good a direction as any." He examined the trail again, digging into the soft soil with the toe of his boot. "Looks old. Damned a'drin'a is probably miles from here by now."

Excellent, Chand'ra thought, her anticipation growing. I have led you astray. Just a few more feet, my grey jewel.

The panther pushed through the bramble, cursing as a thorn pierced his trousers and his skin. He stumbled over a rock. "Ten Thousand Demons!" Panthro howled as he suddenly flew into the air. The rope that had hoisted him up into the tree held firm. Both his legs caught, the Thundercat twisted on the line like a fish. "Gods damn you, Chand'ra," he screamed.

"You don't mean that," she purred from a point several branches above his.

Hanging upside-down, the panther strained his neck trying to locate his tormentor in the tangle of wood above. Chand'ra took a packet from inside her tunic. "Don't you dare, female!" the warrior protested when he finally spotted her. The priestess shook sparkling particles on her victim. "Of all the rotten, ill-begotten--" A series of sneezes cut short his retort.

"You must learn to trust me, Panthro," Chand'ra remarked coyly. She dropped to the ground. Except for the bubbling of water over stone, the wood had grown quiet once more. The line had stopped moving; the panther dozed, the kittens' sleep dust having performed its magic. The snow leopard patted his face. "I promise that you'll enjoy what I have planned."

*****

Chand'ra finished folding the clothing that she had removed from Panthro. She casually slipped off her boots, and added them to the pile. At the right time, the rest of her garments would come off in a manner sure to amuse her captive.

The flames of the small campfire that she had built kept the chill of the night at bay, and warmed her toes. Chand'ra stretched across a coarsely woven blanket. She counted the quickening breaths of the panther whom she had tied to stakes sunk securely into the ground. "Very soon now," she murmured in anticipation of his awakening.

The female studied the landmarks of the grey warrior's face. His broad flat nose, wide lips and deep-set eyes easily marked him as one of the Sev'rati. The males of the panther clans that had conquered the eastern frontier of Thundera were built for strength, unlike their slender city cousins, the Asri'i. She pressed her hand against his chest and marveled at the solidity of his flesh. Such a magnificent representative of his race! Her ardor increased her hunger for a taste of his generous lips. I cannot wait any longer for the feast you have to offer, my prize. Chand'ra blew lightly upon Panthro's black eyebrows. The warrior's eyes flickered, then opened. "Had a pleasant rest, my lord?" she asked.

Confusion crossed his face, but it quickly gave way to astonishment then anger as he realized his predicament. The panther let out a roar that blew back her mane and shook the branches. The straining and heaving of his powerful body as he pulled at his bonds made her ready for the struggle she desired.

"X'trint!" he swore.

"The bonds are part of jan'nirri loving," Chand'ra said calmly. She straddled his bucking body. Kissing him, she silenced the curses he hurled at her. "I am not like Cheetara." she whispered into his ear. "My love flows from what I have been and what I have become." She pressed her claws into his neck. The panther gasped, his eyes widening with surprise. "Pain swiftly changes to delight, does it not?" she said with a grin, knowing that he could not reply. "A jan'nirri can exploit this complexity, my grey jewel. In our art, we learn all the points of pain and pleasure." Rising, she slowly licked the tiny droplets of blood from her claws. To her satisfaction, he remained in stunned silence, a temporary effect of her unique touch.

His eyes intently followed her movements. She stood lightly on his chest, then spun in a circle. She writhed in tune to ancient rhythms, and danced the desperate love that females gave to their males on the eve of battle. Panthro's voice returned in the groans that shook his body, and soon meshed into the patterns she created. Her gyrations reached a wild pitch that complemented the growing rigidity of his maleness.

The snow leopard vaulted off the panther, and changed the flow of the dance. With fluidity and precision, she painted a new picture. She stripped off her clothing, each gesture abounding with eroticism.

Chand'ra dropped to the ground, and slithered toward her prey. She wrapped her body over his dark form, and blew into his ear, her breaths coming in small puffs from her exertion. The warrior wailed, and the priestess smiled.

She turned her back, then reached into the sack set at the edge of the blanket. From within the bag she selected a feather. The priestess slowly brushed it under Panthro's chin until he gave a shuddering sigh. She eagerly continued the play over the planes of his body. The warrior's muscles rippled reflexively. His hissed when she teased his phallus.

She set down the feather, then pulled a round vial from the sack. The snow leopard waved it before his taut face. She opened the bottle and poured the oily contents over her breasts. The spicy scent filled her nostrils, the intoxicating aroma increasing the wetness between her legs. "Care for a taste my lord," she said, leaning over him. The panther strained his head trying to reach what she offered, but she made sure to stay just out of his reach. The ropes creaked as the panther made every effort to break free.

Chand'ra rearranged herself so that she faced his penis. Her parted legs gave her captive a different view of her charms. His hot breath caressed her sex. She licked and nibbled his inviting stalk. His hips began to move in synchronization with her attentions, adding to her enjoyment.

The more vigorous her tasting, the greater his speed. The ropes snapped. Panthro moved with the rapidity of a building thunderhead. He flipped her over, and pinned her to the earth. The world around her turned dark grey. He loomed over her, his eyes burning lanterns that outmatched the fire.

"Now you are ready. I like it fast and rough," she whispered.

Panthro's mouth twisted into a vulpine grin, his countenance brimming with understanding and agreement. "My spotted flower," he purred. Chand'ra grabbed his shoulders, and pulling him down upon her, kissed him ferociously. Her body twined around his in a formidable lock. Panthro pressed her into the earth until he knocked the breath from her body. Their love burned her flesh like lightning. The sharp edges of reality blurred. She lost herself completely in the smokey whirlwind that she had summoned. The storm cloud thundered, and erupted into a torrent of release which hammered her into climax.

She floated on the waters of exhaustion, content. A roar, bestial and dangerous, sounded in the night, and flitted across the borders of her tired mind. "Am'ral'im!" Panthro snarled in alarm. He pulled his comforting warmth and touch away from her protesting body. "Come Chand'ra. We must get to the safety of the tank. It is not far from here."

Too tired to move, my grey jewel, she thought, her fatigue holding her prisoner.

Everything tilted as he lifted her up, and cradled her in his arms. The River and the forest sped past. She closed her eyes to the confusion, and held tightly onto her lover.

*****

The priestess and the warrior rested comfortably together on a bed of blankets arranged on the floor of Thundertank cargo bay. Chand'ra snuggled next Panthro. He smiled slyly, and absently ran his finger along the hollow of her neck. "Don't get any ideas. We're both exhausted. Let's just enjoy each other's company, and the night. Look how beautiful the Seven Sisters are!"

"We have escaped danger, and I have rested enough," she replied in annoyance, her fingers tracing the depths of his navel. "The astronomy lesson can wait, my lord."

Panthro turned onto his stomach, and rested his head on his folded arms. He made it clear from his action that he was in no mood to entertain her. Chand'ra stretched, then sighed in defeat. "As you wish, my lord," she murmured.

"No one has ever given me a gift as brazen as yours. What I wish is to understand you. But that...may take a lifetime," he admitted.

The lantern that glowed in one corner of the tank made his dark fur shimmer enticingly. How far have I fallen from my beliefs? Chand'ra wondered, bemused, his subtle suggestion adding to her arousal in a way that the words of her other lovers never had. Am I already doomed to lose myself to love?

The panther turned on his side, and faced her. He tilted his head in puzzlement. "What worries you, my spotted flower?"

"You," she said breathily. The corners of his mouth bent in perplexity. "My lord, I don't--"

Her companion raised his hand to interrupt. "I think I know," he said, insight abruptly easing the tension in his expression. "After our trip together to Trinacria, I may have misread your intent. I have sensed since then that perhaps what you have felt for me is different than what I have felt for you. Now I know what you want from our loving."

"I'm sorry."

The Thundercat shrugged. "No apology is necessary. As your lover, I will not put the restraints or conditions upon you that a mate expects." He grinned, a reaction that disturbed her because of its incongruity with the solemnity of their discussion. "I couldn't even if I wanted too. You can't bind fire."

His sincerity and honesty warmed her as much as his pliant flesh had done. He already knows me so well! Conflicting emotions made her question everything she had believed about her relationship to the panther. Am I wise or a fool? she wondered, unable to answer the question.

Panthro leaned over, and cupped her chin in his large hand. "However, you must forgive me for believing that one day you will change, and decide to stay at my side as my mate."

She had no desire to push him away, but only wished to draw him closer, no matter how her actions dammed her. "I like a challenge," she purred, pulling him down.

Panthro answered bluntly, "And I'll test you to your limits."