This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
All work is fiction intended for fantasy only, regardless of content, and consent must always be acquired when engaging in any sex act with another adult.
Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.
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The harlequin hare anthro was easy to spot, sitting at a small table at the far end of the bar, drinking his wine with his eyes quietly set on his book. Others in the bar were louder and brasher than Oswain, yet the hare had never felt the need to raise his voice in order to be heard. Maybe that was where his enjoyment of magic came into play, using more subtle, elegant means to subdue anyone that wanted to start trouble with him. He could always come out on top without someone else even knowing or quite understanding what he had done to them.
That was just why and how Oswain got away with as much as he did. Yet, that night, he was away from his travelling party, missions lying ahead for them, relaxing and drinking, whiling the night away.
At least, that was what the hare had intended to do. Whether or not he was on a quest, life had a funny way of throwing unsuspecting things at him. Almost as if there was someone above dictating the moves that he and his team took...though that was surely a silly thought to have indeed!
She caught his eye. Not because of her rugged beauty, the crimson scaled dragonborn reptilian with a frill above her cheekbones and piercing, amber eyes. Oh, it was clichΓ© to say that, Oswain was sure, but sometimes it was the most obvious features that captured one ultimately. He stared when he shouldn't have, his wine glass halfway to his lips, ears twitching.
She was alone. That was odd. Not because the hare had seen her before, but, well, it was strange that she was there and she looked out of place, sitting at a table with an empty seat opposite her.
Oswain's heart pulled for her. She was stunning, dressed in leather armour -- but clean armour, with a cotton, supposedly, underlayer. It looked like she had made an effort, not just slouching in after a mission to celebrate.
He was up and moving before his mind had caught up with what he was doing, his book tucked under his arm as he approached.
Oswain smiled, though the hare could not help but be a little nervous before a dragonborn still. It was something about the teeth, yet he had had enough wine to ease the edges of his worries. And the hare was well known for being a little on the flirtier side after a glass of wine. It didn't take all that much, to be fair, for him to lose his concerns.
And she didn't look like she wanted to be alone either: that was what really got the hare to approach.
"Hello, fine lady," he said, dipping his head politely in acknowledgement, a gentle smile on his lips. "What brings you here this evening? It seems a little quiet here."
He only meant to offer conversation, though she lifted her head instantly, eyes narrowing. Oswain chanced that there was a curl of smoke wafting from her nostrils, her muzzle short but still draconian in nature.
"What do you want?" She said, though there was no aggression in her tone: she didn't need it to know that she could look after herself. "Did Thomas send you over?"
"What? The bartender, Tom?"
Oswain glanced back at the well-groomed black rat, who smiled and gave him a wave.
"No, no," he said, answering her question. "You just... I don't know. I just felt like coming over and seeing if you'd like to chat."
"Hm..."
She surveyed him, sitting back in her chair a little, her arm slung over the back of it. If she had been standing, she would have been the same height as he was, with her horns making her seem a little taller, despite Oswain's upright ears. Yet height didn't matter and he slid into the seat opposite her when she nudged it away with her tail.
"Thanks!" He said, sliding his book onto the table, unable to stop his nose from twitching in a smile. "I had intended to sit alone but...how come you're here on your own? Pardon me for being so forward, but a lovely dragonborn, such as yourself, doesn't seem like they'd be wanting for company at all, regardless of what company they'd be looking for."
She leaned back, a tiny smile on her lips, her tail twitching back and forth shrewdly.
"You don't even know me."
"No," he said with a half-shrug. "But I like to think I can get a judge of people, I'm a wizard, you know. I have to have some intuition wrapped up in all that, don't you think?"
As more wine was brought for them, Thomas clearly in on something that neither of them knew about, she smiled more genuinely and splayed her fingers out flat on the table.
"I was waiting on a date," she confessed with a snort, as if she was trying to appear unaffected. "But...as you can...they don't seem to have turned up. So, I am rather wanting for company tonight, as you put it."
The hare's mood could have soured with that news: he couldn't stand anyone that lacked in respect. Of course, there was no telling just why her date had stood her up, but...there was no time for that as he poured a glass for her, careful to keep his paws where she could see them. It was just polite, after all, and he didn't want her to even briefly think that he could have been doing something to her drink.
No, he was just being a gentlefur -- and there should never have been anything wrong with that. Not as the two of them got to know one another. Drink and conversation flowed -- more wine than, honestly, Oswain had genuinely been planning to consume.
But Oswain could never have expected the night going as well as it had, the conversation flowing more and more easily between them as they shared another bottle of red wine -- not just the single glass that he had enjoyed before. He found out that her name was Rhiannon and that she was a mage, utilising some of the same magic that he did, even though there were important distinctions between the two.
That was okay though. And it was even more okay as she dragged him back into her room at the inn, down the street from the tavern, by her tail, the hare laughing and yelping playfully as she hauled him along.