16. Doe and Stag

ENTIN

CHAPTER 16

Entin's head throbbed. The wine and the night had gone on and on until, one by one, they'd all passed out from exhaustion and inebriation. He'd slept with Cascade, though he didn't remember them crawling under the furs together, Cascade's lithe, muscular body intertwined with Entin's as they slumbered. Cascade's skin was smooth and warm against his, and even over the smell of cool smoke that filled the space, he could pick up his musk. Cascade stirred briefly in his sleep, and Entin realized that he had slept nude despite the others around them.

The heft of his erection throbbed hotly against Entin's back. It was huge and thick, and his balls rested heavily near Entin's thin hips. Entin's smaller cock ached with yearning in reply. The sudden urge to rut began to overcome him, and it took all his self-control not to act on it.

There had been times after he'd come into manhood that he'd been forced to bathe with the others back in Summerhome. He'd always been intimidated by the vulnerability of nudity—especially when he'd come to learn he was drawn to the nakedness of other men. He would watch them slap each other on the ass or remark on each other's cocks jokingly as they bathed. But he never partook in the jocular antics himself. He'd lived in constant fear of the moment their attention might fall on him.

And, as much as he'd tried to resist the urge, he had occasionally snuck glances at Balru. By the time they'd seen eighteen years, Balru had outgrown the other men in their tribe in every way. He'd gone from big to huge. And by the time he'd fully developed, it became impossible not to stare at him in awe as he bathed with the others. Entin hadn't been the only one looking, either.

Balru became obscene. His colossal musculature had only been matched by the pendulous, mastodon-sized manhood he'd been endowed with. On the long nights after he'd begun to bed the women of their tribe, their screams of pleasure had echoed shamelessly out into the dark as he bred them one after another.

There had even been times where Entin had shamefully, secretly pleasured himself to the sounds—imagining what it might be like to have done to him whatever Balru was doing to them. But the desire had always been forbidden, no matter how desperate his yearning to experience it had become. Eventually, he'd tried to hide it from himself, hoping the gods and his ancestors wouldn't see it replaying in his thoughts.

Yet here he was, now, unexpectedly wrapped in the arms of another. Gentler. And nearly as big. Flesh and blood meeting flesh and blood. And the man who seemed to care for him—to want him, of all things—was at once more handsome and more tender than anything he'd ever imagined for himself, even in his most generous fantasies.

Entin realized that his heart was racing nearly as fast as his thoughts. For some reason, despite how content he thought he should feel, he'd grown tense and rigid. He felt a gnawing unease biting at his emotions, constantly chewing away at his ability to relax into the moment the way he wanted to.

Cascade nuzzled his nose into Entin's neck, grumbling incoherently. The warmth of the still-slumbering man's breath on his soft skin coupled with the feeling of him wrapping his arms even more tightly around him almost made him shake into pieces.

At that moment, he noticed Aiel had been watching him all this time. She was smiling slightly, and he could tell there was genuine happiness in her eyes, even from across the cave. The two searched one another silently for a long while in the dim light. Over some time, he felt himself finally able to relax into Cascade.

His eyes grew heavy, and he drifted back into the spirit realm.

In his dreams, Entin saw nothing but fire.

It burned the forests.

It scorched the earth.

It crackled and roared with the fury of the gods.

He watched its entropy with dismay.

It sprawled before him like a wound on the world's vast surface.

And then, all at once, a tremendous, billowing mass of nothingness roiled toward him from beyond the horizon.

Entin opened his mouth to scream…

And everything went black.

"Entin."

He lurched awake with a fright.

"It's alright," Cascade said in his calm way.

Entin's vision finally came into focus. From what he could gather, the others had been up for some while. They were all washed and ready to go, spears in hand. Even Aiel. Cascade was kneeling beside him with a bundle of spears at his side.

"Why didn't you—" Entin began.

"You were sleeping so peacefully until a moment ago I couldn't bring myself to wake you. Don't worry; we have the day ahead of us," Cascade explained.

"Entin, Cascade. We'll see you this evening. May the ancestors show you the tracks to glory," T'reer said.

"May they guide you to yours as well," Cascade replied.

T'reer pounded his chest and then led Sivek, Aiel, and the other two out of the cave.

"I guess I need to wash up now?" Entin said.

He wasn't at all looking forward to today. Hunting had always been a sensitive topic for him. The thought of having to perform—especially in front of someone as experienced as Cascade—was far from how he'd prefer to spend his time. He began to rise from the furs, only for Cascade to forcefully push him back into them.

"Not until you help me with my spear," he growled.

Entin felt his cock twitch.

Slowly, Cascade stripped out of his leathers and kicked off his moccasins. He was beautiful, and his cock was still hanging soft between his legs. Entin stared at it.

"Go on," Cascade encouraged.

Entin wanted to more than anything. But he found he didn't know where to start. The thought of exploring Cascade was all he wanted, yet actually doing so made him feel self-conscious somehow—shameful, even.

Cascade gently lowered himself to his knees and guided Entin to do the same. Deftly, he slipped Entin's leathers up over his head and tossed them aside.

"Do you want this?" Cascade asked quietly.

"Yes," Entin gasped.

"Then take it," Cascade commanded.

Entin reached out hesitantly and brushed the back of his hand along Cascade's rippling pectoral. A shiver of pleasure ran through him. Cascade's flesh was smooth and warm. The feel of him caused Entin's cock to ache with yearning.

Cascade gently took his hand and placed it on his still-soft member. Entin nearly released it instantly, but its weight in his hand caused him to hold on out of lust. It was heavy, and as he held it, he felt a gentle pulsing begin to twitch along its length.

Cascade leaned in and kissed him. As he did so, Entin felt Cascade's manhood swell as it came alive. At first, he was able to grip nearly all of him in his hand. Now, little by little, he swelled—first causing Entin's fingers to part, then lengthening inch by inch until his cock was far longer than the span of Entin's hand.

Cascade bit Entin's lip so hard it hurt. Then he began to fuck Entin's hand. Feeling the traverse of his colossal manhood pumping his grip forced Entin to reach down and begin furiously jerking off his own. The size difference between them—Entin's own cock easily fitting in his palm while Cascade's was so huge he could barely get his hand around it—caused him to come at once. As he did so, Cascade began to growl. He shoved Entin down onto the bed and flipped him over so roughly Entin was momentarily dizzy.

Then he felt Cascade slide his cock between his ass cheeks. He made no attempt to enter him, but was using the friction of Entin's buttocks to jerk himself off. The feeling of his shaft spreading his cheeks this way caused Entin's mind to roar with fantasies of being entered—and he wondered, if that day ever came, what it might feel like to take Cascade. It was then that he felt a splatter of hot cum rain down across his back, and Entin knew that before they left the cave, he would have to jerk off again.

He'd never been so aroused in his life. And he wanted more.

"By the gods, this is the worst!" Entin spluttered.

The waterfall was many, many spans tall, and the water cascading down on him thundered onto his head and shoulders with such tremendous force he had to fight against it to remain fully upright in the waist-deep pool. It was also freezing. The chill of the fall air, coupled with his nakedness, made him so cold he could feel barely anything but a dull, white-hot burn.

"Scrub your armpits, your cock, and your asshole! Then you're done!" Cascade yelled from the shoreline.

Entin did as he was told, as quickly and brusquely as felt passable. By the time he was done, he didn't think he'd ever been so clean, save for after the hot spring.

He waded back to Cascade.

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad!" Cascade laughed.

He threw an old fur at him to wipe down with and then handed him his leathers.

"Clean as a newborn!" Cascade said.

He pinched at Entin's nipple playfully. But Entin was in no mood to play. He was cold, and Cascade's recent pleasuring of him still wasn't enough to overcome his trepidations about the hunt.

"How long does it usually take?" he asked.

"Hunting? Why, as long as it takes! That's part of the fun," Cascade said enthusiastically. He was seated now, inspecting the tips of the spears he'd brought in his hide bag.

"And what if we don't catch anything?" Entin asked.

"Then we don't eat. And we will hunt again tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after. Until we bring something home," Cascade said.

"Oh," Entin replied.

It wasn't what he'd wanted.

"You have to be the one to slay it, by the way. But I will help you with tracking," Cascade went on.

"This just gets better and better," Entin moaned.

He slid back into his leathers and put on his moccasins. Earlier, Cascade had stuffed the toes with balls of hide to make them fit better, and he was happy to find that the solution worked well.

"Now, we can set off along the valley floor or take our chances up in the lowland hills," Cascade informed him.

Entin scanned the hills, then looked off down the valley. The sun overhead was bright, the sky cloudless, and he wanted to sit down on the bank of the river and do nothing at all for the rest of time. But he knew that wasn't an option.

"Hills, I suppose," Entin decided.

"Then the hills it is. Are you ready?" Cascade said.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Entin replied.

And with that, the pair set off.

It was midday when they finally stopped their trek to break for food and water. Entin's legs burned from the exertion of the hunt, and he was growing increasingly beleaguered at the effort it was taking to continue. They hadn't seen any signs of elk or deer—not even scat—and he was beginning to worry that perhaps the animals had already started to migrate from the mountains down to the more temperate coastline for the coming winter. Few berries were left on the low bushes. The seasons were changing.

Entin chewed his salmon thoughtfully. He and Cascade sat side by side with their backs resting against the enormous trunk of an evergreen many spans around. The ancient tree towered over them, its crown so far above it was hidden from sight. Entin rested his head against its bark, staring up into the green and blue.

"So. Are you going to tell me about this ‘Journey' you all seem so preoccupied with?" he asked.

He passed the bit of dried salmon that remained back to Cascade, who ate it eagerly.

"Every person's Journey is their own," Cascade answered.

"Well, what was yours?" Entin pressed.

"I will tell you about it, but you must understand mine was… difficult."

There was a pause as though Cascade were considering the best way to share bad news, and then he continued.

"For my people, it is customary to go on your Journey when you reach your sixteenth summer. As I said, each is different. The spirits granted me the challenge of the bear paw. I stalked him for a full day and night. On the second evening, hunting by the full moon's light, I finally cornered him against some rocks. Our struggle was long, but in the end, I drove my spear through his heart. The skull in my cave is his. The furs on the bed, too."

Entin stared at him, wonderstruck. He knew it took many men from Summerhome to take down a single mastodon. The thought of a lone man taking down something as huge and terrible as a bear made his jaw drop. Cascade glanced at him and chuckled.

"Don't worry, you won't have to hunt a bear. And your Journey will be different from mine. I'll be by your side the entire time. When Father planned all of this, he wanted to ensure the trainees felt like they were part of the tribe by the end," Cascade said gently.

They both froze at the crack of a branch nearby. Deer. A mother and its yearling. Entin quietly picked up his spear and began to rise.

"No," Cascade said in a hushed voice.

"But she's right there!" Entin said.

"We don't kill mothers or the young if we can help it."

The fawn noticed Entin. The two of them locked eyes, appraising one another's alien nature. Its slim, tender face regarded him inquisitively. It huffed, then pawed at the ground. He watched as it pulled up some sort of root or tuber and began to chew, never quite looking away from him.

"Everything here must exist in balance. That's why the Wolves must be stopped. They consume like fire, and leave nothing but ash in their wake," Cascade finished.

The deer took off. But Entin was left unsettled by his words, and he didn't even watch them as they went. He was thinking about his dream: about the fire he'd seen consume everything and everyone. He shook his head, trying to clear it and failing miserably.

"Everything okay?" Cascade asked.

"Yes. Sorry. I'm just tired, I think," Entin lied.

Cascade placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Come. Let's keep going. Early evening is the perfect time for you to make your first kill."

Entin sighed, then rose to join him—though the flickering embers of his worry never entirely extinguished themselves.

Entin was ready to give up. The sun had fallen behind the mountains long ago, taking its warmth with it. He trudged on along the ridge behind Cascade. The strange red-orange glow from the summit of the Slumbering God was brighter than ever. It unsettled him, as all things that looked like fire had begun to.

"You might need to start worrying about starvation. I'm not sure I'm a lucky hunter," Entin joked.

But Cascade didn't reply. He held his arm out, barring Entin from continuing.

"Slow," he said in a low voice.

Entin paused, wondering what could make the bear-killer stop dead in his tracks like this. He stood up on his tiptoes to peer past Cascade, and what he saw amazed him. Just ahead was the most magnificent stag Entin had ever seen. It dominated the narrow trail, staring defiantly back at them. It was nearly twice the height of a man, and its antlers were many times as broad. The creature stared them down fearlessly.

"Is he dangerous?" Entin asked nervously.

"Yes. Very," Cascade cautioned.

He was slowly backing down the trail. To Entin's dismay, he noticed that Cascade was clutching his spear more tightly than he'd seen him do in the past, and adjusted his grip to match. The stag snorted, and a vast billow of steam erupted from its nostrils. The vapor glimmered in the moonlight.

"Oh fuck!" Cascade said.

"Oh fuck, what?" Entin hissed back.

The stag flicked its head at them and huffed louder. It stomped once with one of its powerful legs, then let out an odd sound not unlike a howl.

"Run!" Cascade screamed.

He wheeled around and tried to shove Entin down the trail. But Entin couldn't look away, let alone move. The stag lowered its head and charged. A part of him knew he should turn and run with Cascade, but another part felt tethered to watching this sequence of events play out. His thoughts seemed detached from his body. He stood frozen, partly in shock and partly in awe, as the great beast ran toward him. Entin watched as it lowered its rack and prepared to skewer him on its many-tipped horns. He could feel the thunder of its mighty hooves as it neared.

"Entin!" Cascade called out in panic.

But Entin could barely hear him. As far as he was concerned, it was only him and the stag now. Nothing else mattered. The outside universe had fallen away, and he felt each second like it was an eternity—like this was all that had ever been. His hand tightened on the spear.

At the last moment, just before the stag connected with him, he pointed the tip at the thick of its throat. Entin closed his eyes and screamed. The stag crashed into him with such overwhelming force that Entin's consciousness was instantly obliterated. His last moment was nothing but warmth and pain and wet and noise. And then everything went black, and there was nothing left but silence.