Introduction
The air was heavy with humidity and stink, and water dripped languidly off the leaves of the ferns and cycads that made up the bulk of the ancient trees. The faint chirruping of insects in the leaves and undergrowth was punctuated here and there by bursts of sound from the tiny wrens that flitted hither and thither, sparks of colour in the gloomy under canopy. Far into the distance, the howl of wolves echoed morosely across the leagues, carrying their news far into the deepest parts of the great forest.
So far... I need water... So thirsty...
Gail half-stumbled, half crawled through the clinging, gripping branches around her, the soft leaves tickling her fur and the cloying mud weighing down her tail, soaking into her very skin. Whispers of wind caressed all around her as her dehydrated wet nose pricked and flared, desperately scenting for any sign of cool, clear water. Water... She hadn't had a drink in days now, was it 2, 3, more? It felt like a year, and each second stretched out from here to the timeless depths of the Mother's universe.
Streaked with cloying earth and patches torn out by wrenching brambles, Gail's formerly thick, lustrous black fur was now stained and brittle with abuse. She had a wild gleam in her azure eyes, and her claws retracted and extended nervously as she searched for liquid nourishment. Ripped by her stay in the wilderness - initially a fun hike with friends that was turning into a nightmare - her clothes were hanging in tatters off her body, shirt ripped and bra misplaced several miles back, shorts grey with dirt and stained with what looked suspiciously like dried blood. Pausing for a moment to catch her breath, Gail leaned against a tree and panted, her thighs and belly scratched and bruised from her mad dash through the 2 foot heather not too long ago and her breasts heaving with her exhausted pants. Her tail wrapped protectively around her right calf, long and silky despite the mistreatment it had seen so recently, and she cooed softly at the comfort this brought.
Ears straining at the air around her, eyes darting sluggishly with tiredness this way and that, as though she might will the water into existence through sheer force of mind, Gail didn't see the ledge until it was too late.
She croaked hoarsely as her ankle rolled on the sudden absence where there should have been solid ground. Her parched throat gave silent prayer to the Goddess that her end would be a swift one, and a sharp exhale of breath was all the she managed before her back thumped, hard and unceremoniously, on the floor of the forest beneath her. Lifeless arms splayed at strange angles from her lithe torso, and fur matted with dried mud and slicked with the harsh humidity of the forest clung like a black cloak to her frame.
Her tongue lolled out of her open mouth, her unseeing eyes closed in a sleep like death. Gail inhaled and exhaled, slowly and deceptively shallowly, as dark red blood oozed slowly from deep gashes in her legs and paws.
There was a susurration in the air, a shimmer of whispered words behind locked doors. A warm, welcoming light tumbled out of the door in front of the temple, and the sound of laughter and merriment could be heard within. A whiff of cinnamon and an air of sweetness accompanied the feminine form who slipped so attractively through the door. Her warm and loving aura swept over Gail's form, close to death, so ragged and limp.
Strong and toned arms, subtly muscled and coated in a luxurious felt of orange-black fur, scooped up the little catgirl and held her close to this new woman's breast. Gail's unconscious lips mewled softly, a kitten in its mother's paws, and her head was slowly guided to an exposed nipple. Gail closed her lips around it softly, and with a sigh of contentment began to suckle warm, rich milk. As her rescuer walked her back through the door, her wounds began to stitch and mend, miraculously cured of mortal ailments and saved from death by this mysterious stranger.
There was a brief dip in the sounds of hedonistic pleasure from within the temple, and the rocky door to the inner sanctum closed, leaving nothing to suggest its presence at all save a few strands of jet-black cat fur, and the sweet scent of cinnamon.
Chapter 1: Waking Up
Gail's features shone with radiant life as she smiled warmly in her slumber, turning over gently and cuddling up in the soft pillows surrounding her bed. She smelled that wonderful cinnamon aroma again, reminding her fondly of her mother's apple cakes when she was a kitten. She would spend hours chasing fireflies and moths through the flowers outside their converted barn, giggling as her older sister practised pouncing on her and feeling the dirt smudging her fur, all the while her mother would be baking in the kitchen, humming an old melody as she worked. She loved that feeling, the feeling of being so young and free and light, totally devoid of all responsibility and pain. The nestled cat purred in her sleep, and rolled over again, a little half-smile creasing her face and making her glow.
The woman holding her smiled too, keeping her close and occasionally patting her fur down with a delicate orange paw. The silky soft padding on her fingers was vulpine, and her short claws gently scratched Gail's back in her knotted places, making the kitten-like form beneath her moan with quiet pleasure. Hana smiled again as she eased her firm breasts back inside their velvet sash, and delicately licked a bead of milk off her finger. It was special milk she had been saving for just this occasion, the product of three full moons and a symbolic sacrifice to the Goddess; a boy from the priesthood had given her his virginity to see this spell work. But it was worth it to see this sweet young thing healthy and vibrant again, so full of life and energy. Hana scented the air again, and chuckled to herself. Well, if not full of life then certainly the desire to create it... Or at least complete the action of creating it. The kitsune's tongue ran over her teeth, almost predatory in their need, and she cupped the sleeping girl's chin.
So pretty and young... Far too young to be out alone in the forest. Why are you here little one? What brought you to my sacred commune?
Hana stood in a manner that could only be called seductive, and swayed her hips rhythmically as she approached the arched, curtained entrance to Gail's new bedroom. She blew the unconscious catgirl a kiss, and dropped the heavy leather curtain as she passed through; she had decided long ago that there would be no need for doors in her commune, save the one that spared them from the excesses of the outside world. Below stairs, the never-ending sound of laughter, giggles and moans punctuated the air, and an all-encompassing smell of cinnamon drifted easily on a breeze that should, by all rights, not exist at all. The smell was intoxicating, like the first bite of an apple pie, the bite that made you want to sign away your soul if only for one more burst of that sublime, magnificent taste. Sashaying her way to the broad spiral staircase in the middle of the floor, she tossed her flowing scarlet hair over her shoulder and cast one last, almost longing look at the placid portal to her sleeping visitor's room. Then, mind made up, she descended the staircase, and walked into the light.
***
It might have been morning when Gail's eyes finally cracked open and took in her strange surroundings. It could just as easily have been night; Gail's keen night vision nevertheless failed to detect any windows at all into her dark but comfortable lodgings. Turning her attention to her bedside table, she located a small tinderbox and a lantern, and gently lifted the glass lid of the lantern before striking the edge of the tinderbox with a match. The phosphorescent glow of the match bloomed into life, and she touched it gently to the wick of the lantern, winding a little more out with the small bronze knob on the side of the bulb. It was full of a strange, purple liquid she had never seen before; she presumed it was some fancy oil that rich houses used, because when it burned it gave off a pleasing scent of cinnamon, and perfumed the air with the rich, heady smell. Her lips absently curling upwards a little, she dropped the glass lid back onto the lantern and laid her head back onto the bed again.
It was only then that she actually realised where she was. Or rather, where she wasn't.
Where the hell am I? This isn't my home!
