Beasts Like Us

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Beasts Like Us Page 4

by Feral Sephrian


  Mateo nodded. “Well, that’s another thing we have in common then. We can both turn into large cats and we both find men attractive.”

  “Speaking of which, would—Can we be cats together again? Now that we have more room?”

  “Sure!” Mateo took off his shirt immediately.

  Dazi happily did the same. There were few mountain lions in his tribe, and none his age. Even though Mateo was technically older, Dazi figured he was the same age in nagual years. Spending time with Kesi and Kuhma was nice, but he was so much stronger than they were, he worried about hurting them. It was that power he visualized now, feeling the skin of the mountain lion and how his muscles expanded into it. It was like a good stretch after being stuck in a small space too long. When he had fully changed, he stretched further, reaching both front paws out in front of him and arching his back.

  Mateo was much more passive now than he had been in the bathroom. His short tail twitched as he sat and watched Dazi. Dazi trotted over to him and rubbed his head against Mateo’s shoulder. He purred, showing as he had before that he had only good intentions. Mateo’s broad tongue swept across his neck. Dazi returned the lick and soon they lay side by side grooming each other. It was relaxing, and Mateo’s pelt was pleasantly sleek beneath Dazi’s tongue, but furthermore it strengthened their bond without any words or secrets exchanged. A voice in the back of his heart told Dazi not to grow too attached to Mateo, but the thought of walking away now was almost physically painful.

  One of the other reasons Dazi wanted this silence was so he had time to reflect on what he had learned, and what he had given away. He didn’t know if it was possible for Mateo to perform the ceremony, or if any animal would give him their skin when he already had two. Thus, Mateo wasn’t much danger in terms of exploiting the knowledge he had gained, but he was fond of the fake-skins. Dazi didn’t think he would tell any of them, but then again, if he knew any who wanted this power above all other things, then maybe…

  If he had hands, Dazi would have slapped himself. His people were taught wariness and mistrust before they learned to walk. It was what had saved them for all these years. Except Mateo wasn’t any other Outsider. The European invaders had chased his kind from their homelands just as they had done to the Mukua’poan, and furthermore they had driven the nagual to near extinction. Dazi had his tribe, Mateo had only his family. If there was anyone who knew how devastating secrets could be when they were no longer secret, it was Mateo.

  Dazi rubbed his head against Mateo’s neck and rolled onto his back playfully, batting his paws at Mateo’s face. Mateo got up and pretended to hold Dazi down for the kill, but his teeth only held Dazi’s shoulder loosely. Dazi wasn’t sure which of them would win in a fight. They were nearly the same size, though Mateo was longer. Even so, if Mateo made a wrong move, Dazi told himself he would at least be able to fend Mateo off.

  They wrestled and played and ran around the room together. Dazi had to resist the instinct to dig his claws into surfaces when he jumped. He didn’t want Mateo to have to explain why the furniture was in tatters. It was a much smaller space than Dazi was used to, but he supposed Mateo didn’t mind. Anything was better than a cage, or a grave.

  Mateo flopped onto his side, panting. Dazi stopped to fix his fur, which had gotten ruffled in their play and mildly irritated him in some places. When Mateo stood up, Dazi thought their grooming session was going to resume, but instead the large black cat plodded to the bathroom. Dazi followed, confused and curious. Mateo reared up by the sink and clumsily pawed at the handle until it turned on. He lapped up the water then stepped back to offer it to Dazi. It was strange drinking from a sink. Water got in Dazi’s nose, causing him to snort and sneeze trying to get it out. Mateo chuffed in what Dazi assumed was a laugh.

  Dazi padded back to the main room, found a comfy spot on the carpet, and stretched out on his belly. It was getting late. He couldn’t remember if they had been gone for two hours or three, but he expected Kesi to send him more angry texts soon. He didn’t know what he was going to tell her. He wanted to lie, claim Mateo had done all the talking, try to save the both of them from retribution, but still, his loyalty to his tribe meant—

  There was a sudden weight on his hips. Hard muscles pinned him to the floor. Something rough and barbed slid under his tail. Reflexively, Dazi flipped over and clawed at Mateo’s head with a fierce snarl.

  Mateo scampered back a few steps, then froze. Dazi hissed. No one that large had ever tried to mount him. It left his human mind so baffled that all he could feel were his feline reflexes. He pulled his lips back to show his sharp teeth. He would rip off one of Mateo’s ears if he tried that again.

  For a moment, they remained still. Mateo stood like a statue, the tip of his tail twitching madly. Dazi kept his fangs and claws at the ready. His fur fluffed up to make himself look as large if not larger than the jaguar. Mateo turned to the bed, took a sheet in his mouth, and walked with it to a corner of the room. He turned on the spot to wrap the sheet around himself, and within a minute he was human again, cowering under his cover.

  Mateo stammered a bit before his sounds became words. “I-I’m s-so s-s-sorry. I d-d-didn’t mean t-to…” He swallowed. “Ok-kay, m-maybe a p-p-part of me mm-meant it, th-the jag-guar. It h-h-happens when I ch-change for t-t-too long. Mm-my inst-tincts t-take ov-ver.” He took deep breaths and put both hands over his mouth. He whispered to himself, but Dazi’s keen ears could hear, “Stay human…stay human…don’t change…don’t change…”

  The term “scaredy cat” came to mind. The strong and confident panther had turned into a nervous wreck of a man, like the anxious jaguar Dezi found in at the convention center. Pity filled Dazi’s heart. He remembered when his spirit had first joined with that of the mountain lion. He had trouble controlling his urges and keeping his thoughts human, too. Months of practice made him master of his new mind, but Mateo had never been fully human before. He was born with a jaguar’s spirit inside him. Dazi couldn’t fathom all the effects that must have on his personality.

  Dazi padded to Mateo’s corner and gently butted his head against Mateo’s shoulder. He didn’t want to change back yet, since trying to comfort Mateo while they were both naked humans would have only made things more awkward. Mateo was shaking, but it became less severe as Dazi sat there placidly. He tentatively reached out to stroke the fur on Dazi’s neck. Dazi did his best to smile with his mountain lion mouth.

  “It’s so weird you can purr,” Mateo remarked, his voice trembling but no longer stuttering. “You’re like a giant housecat or something.”

  Dazi yawned to show how calm he was, and what he thought of that comparison.

  Mateo chuckled softly. “Okay, except for the fangs. And the eyes. You’ve got circular pupils, like mine.” He scratched Dazi’s ears. Dazi tilted his head against Mateo’s hand and purred louder. Mateo rubbed under his chin. “You’re not mad at me?”

  Dazi licked his hair, concerned his rough tongue might be too much for Mateo’s skin. He looked into Mateo’s eyes and blinked slowly. He wanted to tell him, “No, I’m not mad. I know what it’s like, though not exactly, and because of that I want to get to know you better. You fascinate me and I get the feeling we could learn a lot from each other.” Every muscle in his body itched to curl up in Mateo’s lap, but he was much too large for that.

  Before he could decide what to do to further comfort Mateo, Mateo wrapped the sheet around himself and stood up. “I’m gonna get my clothes and get dressed in the bathroom. You can get dressed out here. We really should head back. Tonight’s dance theme is techno. Do you want to go with me?”

  Dazi had been to a couple clubs near the reservation, and he didn’t mind techno. His main concern was what the others would think. They wanted to assess the fake-skins’ threat level, which would be difficult in a room where you could barely hear yourself think. Even so, he knew he couldn’t lose Mateo. With the laws broken, there were certain consequences ahead that Dazi’s friends were sure to en
force.

  Mateo shook his head. “Never mind, I’ll ask you when you’re human again.” He snatched up his clothes and the rest of his food and hurried into the bathroom. His sheet drooped in the back, so Dazi could see the patch of fur above his tail. The more Dazi got used to it, the cuter it seemed. He purred, allowed himself one last stretch and roll on the floor, then focused on returning to his human skin.

  The first thing he did was reply to Kesi’s text. Mostly talked about him. He is trustworthy, from what I’ve seen. We’re coming back now. You three can get to know him, and leave the rest of the tribe to me. What, exactly, he was going to do about the rest of the tribe, he didn’t know yet. He did know that the responsibility was his, and because of that, he would determine Mateo’s immediate future. If he couldn’t do something, it meant harsh punishment for both of them.

  “I hope I know what I’m doing…”

  * * * *

  Chapter 4

  Mateo ate his food glumly and waited until Dazi knocked on the door. Dazi as a mountain lion had been docile, but Mateo wasn’t sure how Dazi the human would act towards him after what he had done. As much as Mateo didn’t want to think about it, he couldn’t get the image out of his head. There was Dazi on the floor, his long tail swishing back and forth, the scent of his virility filling Mateo’s head. His humanity relaxed, allowing his jaguar side to take over, and it wasn’t until Dazi almost literally knocked the sense back into him that Mateo realized what he wanted. Lonely and heartsick as he had been these past few years, he wasn’t about to take someone like that, particularly someone who had been a stranger not a few hours ago.

  When Mateo opened the door, Dazi was smiling. “Yes, I would like to go to the dance with you,” he said. His eyes were so different now, yet oddly similar. Though they were nearly dark enough to match his hair, they were warm and friendly like the golden-green of his mountain lion.

  Mateo’s heart beat nervously, but he wasn’t about to bring up that incident again if Dazi was willing to ignore it. “Great,” he said with a dry mouth. He smiled. “You ready to go?”

  Dazi nodded, and they headed back to the convention center. Now that they had removed the tension caused by all their unaskable questions, they could converse more casually. They talked about what they did in their spare time, what they did for work, what interested them. Dazi told him about working with the Environmental Protection Program on his reservation, as well as making trinkets to sell to tourists in the main towns. Mateo brought up his web comic on his phone. They walked shoulder to shoulder so Dazi could see it better. Mateo didn’t feel the strong sexual urges he had had as a jaguar, but there was something comforting about Dazi’s presence that Mateo enjoyed.

  They met up with Dazi’s friends near the entrance to the convention center. If Mateo had been a jaguar at the time, he would have put his ears back as a sign of submission and guilt. None of them looked happy to see him. Kesi in her wolf-ear hood was as tall and slender as the one whom Mateo assumed was her brother, but the other guy, who smelled strongly of deer, took Mateo by surprise. Dazi at least had a build like a mountain lion, lean and muscular, and Mateo had assumed anyone who could turn into an elk would be long-legged and lithe. This guy looked more like he could turn into a bear. He was broad-chested with shaggy hair and he stood a few inches taller than the rest. Mateo knew firsthand what it was like to be kicked by a buck, and he had no doubt this guy could be just as dangerous. The only problem was that Mateo had a hard time taking him seriously because of the goofy-looking antlers he was wearing.

  Dazi did the introductions. Kesi nodded as he pointed to her, Tommo squared his shoulders and put his hands in his pockets, and Kuhma merely stared, his arms crossed. Mateo bit back a snicker at how tough Kuhma was trying to be and how much his antlers offset that. Then again, Mateo supposed his big paw slippers made him look foolish as well. Better a fool than untrustworthy, he reminded himself.

  “Sorry it took us so long,” Dazi said. “Mateo was showing me some of his artwork. He draws his own web comic about Maya legends.” He turned to Mateo. “There was that one in particular you were showing me, right? About the nagual?” He blinked slowly, as he had with his mountain lion eyes. Mateo took that as a sort of wink, and hoped he had caught on to Dazi’s hint.

  Tommo raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “Narwhals?”

  “Nah-hual,” Mateo corrected. “At least that’s how most people know them, if people know them at all. They’re sort of the Mesoamerican version of the skin-walker.”

  Suddenly everyone tensed. Kuhma’s head darted side to side in miniscule movements, his ears twitching and his eyes looking at every person around them. Kesi bunched her shoulders defensively. Mateo’s heart sank. He wanted to tell them he wasn’t about to blow their cover, but there was no way to reassure them without digging himself further into this hole.

  Mateo kept talking like nothing had happened. “The difference between the nagual and the shapeshifters in your legends—” he emphasized the word subtly, “—is that the nagual generally can’t choose which animal he transforms into. It’s…complex, but it’s something he’s…born with, I guess.” He smiled to himself. This could work. “For example, I have a character in my comics who is descended from jaguar shamans. He can turn into a jaguar when he wants to, but that’s because everyone in m—his family can.”

  The others were calming down, though Kesi still eyed him warily. The coyote, the infamous trickster, Mateo told himself she could probably spot a liar better than anyone. Her nostrils twitched. She was sniffing for his fear, no doubt. She was going to get a nose-full. Mateo was on the verge of sweating bullets, but he had to stand his ground.

  “So…yeah…this character, he’s sort of the last of his kind. A bit cliché, I know, but he doesn’t mind. He has to keep his powers a secret from everyone, because he doesn’t know who could be an enemy. He doesn’t want his offspring to have to live like that. Besides, there are other heroes out there. He knows he isn’t truly alone.” Mateo reached into his backpack. “See? I brought some samples to show people, draw more traffic to my website.”

  Mateo fanned out the drawings for the others to see. Kuhma took one page to examine more closely. “Is this your…character?”

  “No, that’s the Water Lily Jaguar. She can also change between a human and a jaguar, but she’s like a minor goddess. She protects the Maya royal line from the invading Spaniards, who brought their own gods and magic to conquer the Americas.”

  Kuhma nodded. “So…how does your character play into all this? What does he do?”

  “He…just is. He’s the reluctant hero. Most of the time he tries to be left alone, but if people come seeking his help, he’ll give it.” Mateo cast a glance at Dazi, whose face was a little too blank. “He and the remnants of his family live in isolation. The only way people even know they exist is if the gods send someone their way, and after that the gods bind them to an oath of silence. They can never speak about m—him to anyone or they’ll face divine wrath.”

  Kesi sniffed again, then said something to Dazi in a language Mateo didn’t understand. Dazi gave her a short answer that seemed to satisfy her. She scratched at her hood, then shook her head like a dog. “Where are you headed next?” she asked.

  Dazi tapped her on the arm. “I told him he could come with us.” When the others all gave him silent glares, he explained, “Mateo has been attending these conventions for years. He knows the ropes, where to go, what to see—” he gritted his teeth, “—and who knows what.” That didn’t make them less upset, but Mateo felt their hostility wane. Dazi turned to him. “Where to next?”

  Mateo looked all four of them up and down, then consulted his schedule. “This looks promising. Introducing Your Fursona.” He flipped through the convention guide until he found the full description. “A meet-and-greet for newcomers to the fandom, learn how to feel comfortable in your fur around strangers and get advice for informing your friends and family. Hosted by WingedFox and Abby the Ta
bby.” He slapped his hand against the guide for emphasis. “There you go. If you want to know what’s going on, this is the best place to do it.”

  “When is that?”

  “Let’s see, it’s…just after five now, and this starts at six, so we had better get in line soon.”

  “Really?” Tommo said. “Why so soon?”

  “Because a panel like this is going to fill up quickly. Not only are new people going to show up, but veterans like me will come to give them sage advice and offer them the friendship they can’t find anywhere else.” Mateo smiled weakly. “Just like they did for me when I first came here. Living the way I did…the way I do…sometimes this is the only place that feels like home to me.”

  Kuhma remained in his intimidating stance, but Kesi and Tommo lost the fire in their eyes. Dazi inched closer until Mateo felt the heat of his body warming his skin. It gave him courage. He never reached such a personal level of friendship with any furry, partly because he shared the Mukua’poans’ concern about their reaction, but also because he worried his instincts would take over like they had with Dazi, like they had with…

  “You guys can go to that,” Kuhma said. He pointed to the schedule. “I’ll go to this one. Are You a Changeling? Maybe there’s something going on there.”

  Mateo bit back a chuckle. “That’s a game, not a panel. It’s similar to Werewolf or Mafia where certain players are the changelings and people have to guess who it is before everyone dies.”

  Kuhma scowled. He looked over the schedule again. “Do these people do anything other than draw and write and watch cartoons?”

  “Not really. There are video game tournaments and a dance every night, but mostly furry conventions are about like-minded people gathering to express themselves in ways they can’t at home. It’s not a cult, they’re not plotting anything, and most importantly they’re not perverts.” Mateo paused and considered some of the furries he knew online. “Okay, most of them aren’t perverts. I’d say of all the people in this convention, you could count the dangerous ones on one hand. The rest want peace and acceptance and they’ll shut down anyone who causes trouble.” It was his turn to shoot Kuhma a dirty look.

 

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