Spirals

Morning light swept across the plain and struck an elegantly arched window set on the eastern perimeter of Cats' Lair. Refracted through the clear glass, the rays landed upon the sleeping Thundercat, who slowly opened an eye to investigate. Dawn, he thought. The fuzzy reflection was all that his tired brain registered. Grabbing the thin sheet that covered him with his left hand, the tiger rolled onto his right side. Burying his head under the fabric, he hoped to blot out the offending brilliance in order to resume a pleasant dream. After laboring to relax for several minutes, the irritated Thundercat realized that his plan was not going to work. With a long sigh, he extricated himself from the cocoon of linen.

Tygra perched at the edge of his bed. Reaching down, he massaged the back of his legs. When he had finished coaxing the stiffness out of his calves, he rose. As he paced across the cold stone floor, he made a mental list of Thunderan curses aimed at Slythe, the reptilian leader of the Mutants, who was responsible for his discomfort. Three days past, the reptile had attacked him during a quick skirmish. The glancing blow that Slythe had struck with his one man sky-craft had sent the Thundercat tumbling down a rocky embankment. Since that time, every movement served to aggravate the bruises hidden under his orange pelt.

At least Talitha saved my honor, Tygra thought proudly. The radiant light she had called forth from the crystal crowning her wooden staff had effectively ended the ambush. The temporarily blinded mutant's only concern had become escape as he had erratically piloted his small vehicle skyward.

I would still like to know how that clanless bastard managed to soar past the trees without striking them, Tygra thought. He glanced at his reflection in the standing mirror. Recalling the mystic's successful ploy had placed the hint of a smile on his face, and had fired his love for her in an obvious manner.

Trying to banish his amorous mood, Tygra growled at his image in a way characteristic of Panthro's fierce demeanor. Exorcised, he entered the small room connected to his chamber. As he set the dials on the shower, Tygra pleaded with the gods of Thundera, "Please, I don't need to endure another 'interesting' day. Allow me the pleasure of boredom."

Stepping into the stream of hot water, the architect sensed that divine respite would not be on the day's agenda.

*****

Tygra approached the dining hall. Although his gait was slow and cautious, his mind raced through a list of tasks to be completed by the afternoon. Without warning, Kitra and Katren, engaged in a furious game of chase, erupted from a side passage, and collided with the pensive tiger. A barrage of surprised shouts followed them to the floor.

"What in the seven hells is going one here!" Panthro bellowed as he emerged from the dining hall, and surveyed the carnage before him.

"Good morning," Tygra muttered from his position under the speechless Thunderkittens.

The panther scowled at the wide-eyed youngsters. "Wilykit, kat, to your rooms!"

The guilty parties leapt to their feet. "Oh Tygra, we're awfully sorry," said Kitra.

"Yes, Tygra, we didn't mean to knock you down. Panthro always tells us not to run in the Lair. Guess we just didn't listen," added an apologetic Katren, who assisted him.

Accepting the help graciously, Tygra stood, then steadied himself against the wall. He studied the two kittens. Like her brother, Kitra's delicate features displayed her concern. Panthro is quite firm when it comes to discipline, the architect thought sympathetically. Gathering his dignity, he replied calmly, "No major damage done to me. Now, give me a hug, then go to your rooms as Panthro has asked." The relieved kittens warmly embraced him then carefully sidestepped Panthro. Tygra watched their retreat until they slipped into another corridor, and disappeared.

Returning his attention to the grey panther, the tiger said, "Panthro, I--" The architect spoke only to the air. The warrior had already vanished down another ubiquitous passage. Tygra speculated on his friend's hasty retreat. First theory--Panthro, annoyed and inconvenienced by the kittens, has decided to busy himself with the Thundertank. When he has felt that the young ones have had sufficient time to reflect on their misbehavior, he will lecture them. Second theory--he is still very angry with me....

The tiger winced as he recalled his argument with Panthro after Slythe's treacherous ambush. What had he called me? he thought. Oh, yes--a vain martyr. And I termed him a stubborn fool. Tygra tapped his chin. Panthro has never been a fool, but he was correct about me. Since I have yet to learn how to heal muscle injuries by mystic means, I should have allowed Talitha to heal my bruises, rather than elect to heal naturally, but--

A sweet fragrance and a light stroke upon his wrist interrupted his line of reasoning. He turned, and faced Cheetara, who had miraculously appeared beside him. "How do you feel this morning, Tygra?" she asked.

What can I reply to her question? he wondered. I have done nothing but create disorder in this household. "Defeated!" he answered as he abandoned all hopes of breakfast. Deserting the puzzled cheetah, he limped towards his laboratory.

*****

"Name of Jaga, finally done," Tygra said with satisfaction. Having spent the morning reviewing scientific documents stored in the Lair's computer, the architect decided that he had earned a break. From his desk, he retrieved paper and pen and began to indulge his muse.

The strokes that he made upon the paper soon took the form of an elaborate castle. Architecture will always remain my first love no matter how much medicine I am forced to learn, he thought firmly. Nothing compares to the pleasure of seeing your paper dreams rise to life in three dimensional splendor.

"Unlike Cats' Lair, not at all practical," he muttered as he put the finishing marks upon the fanciful sketch. His judgement made him consider the truth of his words. The Lair had remained a concrete reminder of all that his people had lost; however, it had also become a powerful symbol of the tenacity of the Thunderan spirit. Not only did the robust sentinel stand defiant against the evils of their new home, but it fired the Thundercats' commitment to preserve the values of their society.

Tygra looked about the room at the metal walls that had originated from the wreckage of their spacecraft, and realized that he would never again match the architectural achievement that the Lair represented. No one was more amazed than I when the Berbils placed the final stones on the facade, he thought, and since that time, the Lair has lived up to its promise. It has served us well as shelter and fortress.

Someone tapped on the laboratory door. "Enter," he said with hesitation, unsure of who wanted his attention. The mystic crossed over the threshold and into his sanctuary. Tygra quickly lowered his eyes. She is the last person that I care to see right now! He bit his lip in frustration. Of all the people in the Lair, she had been the one the most concerned about his health, but had respected his decision to heal naturally. Certainly, she had not agreed with him, but, unlike the others, she had not questioned him. Although he was grateful for her noninterference, the architect wondered whether she had deduced the reason for his stubborn refusal of the healing she had offered.

Although she had acknowledged their love, the one kiss they had enjoyed after her dramatic return to the Lair had blossomed no further in the subsequent months. The swirl of conflicting emotions released with her entry into adulthood, and the traumatic events of the past had made her cautious in their relationship. Their current intimacy rested comfortably in the realm of friendship, but the sexual tension that existed between them had often made them both uneasy.

I know she needs more time to become secure in her adulthood, but I have so much more to give, if only she would let me, he thought desperately. Tygra crumpled the drawing that he had so carefully made, and tossed it across the room. If I had allowed her to heal me, I would have embarrassed us both with the desire she would have stirred in me. He tried to reason with his emotions, but his heart forced him to protect his masculine pride with silence and anger. Damn fool tiger, stop this nonsense, his conscience pleaded. With supreme effort, Tygra finally looked upon the tigress that he loved. "Well?" he grumbled.

Talitha worried the green belt gathered about her slim waist, and spoke in a rehearsed fashion that was completely foreign to her easy manner. "Tygra, I hope that you are feeling better. Panthro told me that you had another bad fall." Reaching into the pocket of her blue robe, she withdrew a small jar, and set it upon the lab bench. "I hope that you will consider using this ointment. It is a preparation that Kanika taught me how to make. This medicine is known among the warrior women to be quite effective in relieving the pain from strained muscles."

The mystic moved away before the architect could frame his reply. At the doorway, she suddenly stopped and said quickly, "Please consider taking dinner in my quarters this evening...at twilight."

"Wait!" The architect had found his voice too late. As he sprang from his chair, his aching muscles betrayed him. Tygra stumbled across the room to the door, and plunged into the corridor. The mystic had vanished as swiftly as a wraith.

*****

Twilight. The heat of the day has gone with the sun, and the first stars begin to shine. Damn.

Lying on his bed in the darkened room, Tygra turned his sight away from the windows and the sky. Talitha's invitation had been far more than a simple request to share a meal. In accordance with Thunderan custom, it was also an invitation to take her bed.

The tiger clenched his fists in frustration. What has changed her mind without warning. He struck the bedding. Has she made this request only from a sense of obligation? Have I somehow pushed her into taking this step too soon? He buried his face into the plump pillow. At least the call of fertility is not responsible for her mood, he thought bitterly. It will take many suns for her cycle to return. And thank the gods for that, or her potent scent would have driven me to madness.

Enough! The anxious tiger left his bed. He tapped the control unit set on the wall, and brought light back into the room. He catalogued the items upon the low table placed near the foot of his bed: one untouched dinner courtesy of Lord Lion-o and one ornamental plant. Tygra dropped to the floor, and sat beside the table. He poked the meal tray with a claw. When Lion-o had come to his room, he had not encountered difficulty convincing the young king that his absence at dinner had been merely an oversight. He had easily appeased the lion by accepting his offering.

Tygra thought wryly, I didn't promise Lion-o that I would eat what he had brought. I'm sure Talitha missed the evening meal. Has our lord also gifted her; has he solved the two tiger equation? The innocence of the unawakened marks Lion-o, but certainly Panthro and Cheetara noted our absence. And what of Snarf...surely Talitha would need an accomplice in the kitchen to make her special feast possible.

Tygra picked up the potted plant which he had acquired earlier in theday at the Berbil village. Hopefully his hastily chosen selection would suffice as a first joining gift. Talitha had commented on the beauty of the blossoms that the little robot bears cultivated for their own pleasure.

The tiger sniffed the white flowers. Their spicy scent reminded him of the mystic. My Talitha. Finally I will be able to give to you completely the love that I have long held in my soul.

The time for contemplation had ended. The night and the white tigress called. Gathering the plant, his courage and his love, Tygra limped from his room.

*****

The architect knocked lightly on the door before him. In the space of a breath, Talitha appeared. A new burgundy robe clung to her shapely body. A belt of gold fabric girdled her waist.

"Please, enter." The timbre of her voice shaded her request with shyness.

As he crossed into her chamber, her magic surrounded him. Cut flowers perfumed the room with a heady bouquet. Several tall candles provided the only illumination, and cast flickering, ephemeral shadows that danced across the walls. Cushions and reed mats of earthy colors patterned the floor. Within their circle rested a low table prepared for two. In the shadows stood a pair of tall woven screens. Various cooking aromas snaked free of the confines and flirted with him.

His empty stomach's protests broke the enticing spell that Talitha had cast. Aware of her presence once again, the architect panicked. By the Goddess, she is too young! I must leave!

The tigress pointed to the leafy gift that he held tightly in his hands. "For me? I certainly hope so!" she asked playfully.

Her question had driven escape from his mind. Fumbling for words, he stammered, "Yes--yes--for-for you. I--I know how much you admire this particular variety. I thought that it might brighten your room."

"Thank you, Tygra. It is indeed beautiful." As she arranged the plant upon the table she said casually, "Behind the dressing screen, I've placed a gift for you. I hope it fits."

Dressing screen? Tygra squinted at the darkness, and discerned another barrier hidden in one corner. What treasure awaits, he wondered, and how by all the gods did she know my measurements?

"Well, I hope you don't believe that you are the only one allowed to present a gift," she added haughtily. The eyebrow that he raised involuntarily brought amusement to her eyes. "Here, you'll need a candle to see anything," she said as she passed a light to him. Feigning composure, Tygra walked with indifference toward the partition.

Behind the screen, he discovered a standing mirror and a long black robe draped across a wooden chair. Beneath the garment lay a golden belt identical to the one worn by Talitha. He set the candlestick on the floor, then proceeded to shed his clothing. The light fabric that he donned was a marvelous change from the constricting, but efficient Thundercat uniform. The dark cloth accentuated the fiery color of his pelt. As he adjusted the belt, he saw himself in the mirror. A Thunderan lord entering his prime stared back. "Goddess!" Tygra touched the glass gingerly. He felt only vaguely connected to the heroic phantom. Why have I forgotten you; when did you become a stranger? His noble counterpart displayed serenity with his silence. Unsettled by what he had observed, Tygra saluted his other self in farewell.

Candlestick back in hand, he emerged from the shadows. From the shock upon Talitha's face, he judged that she too had marked the presence of this other Tygra. She bowed in deference to his station. "Please be seated, my Lord Tygra." She indicated the cushions scattered around the table before politely taking the candle from him, and disappearing behind the partitions that hid her makeshift kitchen.

Lounging on the plump cushions, Tygra attempted to relax. I feel like some pampered clan lord, he thought cynically. He remembered lost Thundera. Harems... the ancient lords had a preference for them. Goddess, what a thought. I wonder if I would have taken to such delights. Ridiculous!

The mystic's airy voice brushed away the past. "I hear this is a good vintage if the tabbot I bargained with is to be believed." Opening the dark bottle, she poured wine into two clay goblets. As she passed one cup to him, the tips of her claws brushed his hand.

Goddess rein this growing fire! Tygra prayed as he followed her graceful movements.

His conscience bellowed in rebuke. She has worked hard to prepare this feast for you, ungrateful one. If you must think of anything, think of thundrillium mining!

I will try, he replied to his inner voice. But by all the gods of Thundera, I love her, and love is never logical.

Unaware of his turmoil, Talitha set aside her cup, and began to serve dinner. As she presented the complex feast, his staid guardian became silent. Vegetables from the Berbil village, wholesome bread made sweet with Wolo spices, delectable fish from the River, and a final flourish of rich pie packed with fruit appeared in succession. Interesting conversation and the mystic's laughter garnished every wonderful course.

At the end of the meal, Tygra found himself pleasantly stuffed. The reservations that had plagued him had melted into a pool of mellow contentment. He sprawled happily across several cushions. A warm summer breeze wafted through an open window, and playfully ruffled the white tufts of fur that shielded his pointed ears. The lingering scents of dinner, the distant call of night birds, and the silvery tigress defined his blissful reality.

Only one disparity intruded on the gratifying paralysis that had claimed him: Talitha had enjoyed very little of the elaborate meal. And I have eaten too well, he thought as he rubbed his full belly. Poor Talitha, she cannot hide her anxiety although she has tried valiantly to conceal it from me with her teasing and her talk. Her stiff posture betrays her. The protection derived from dinner and gifts has fled, but she has too much courage to turn me away. I must ease her nervousness by setting her mind upon her skill. "Talitha," he said, "I must admit that vanity prevented me from fouling my fur with the pungent healing ointment that you had prepared for me. May I surrender my battered muscles to your mystic power? I've been such a damn fool to resist you."

She brightened immediately. "Only if you allow me to properly massage those tortured muscles after my healing."

"Done!"

Forgetting her uneasiness, Talitha issued orders decisively. "Remove your robe, then lie upon on my bed. I'll start on your back."

It was the architect's turn to be embarrassed. Tygra faced a wall as he disrobed, then reclined as instructed. When Talitha positioned her hands upon his shoulders, he tensed.

"Relax," she said tenderly. "You've been in my care before." The warmth of her power bathed him. The healing wave traveled down his back and buttocks, over his thighs and calves, and finally exited through his feet with a tingle.

Tygra sank into a deeply relaxed state. Must stay awake, he thought weakly, as he felt the approach of sleep. The fluid motion of her hands over his buttocks was the last sensation that he perceived.

*****

Tygra stirred from his slumber. He stretched without pain for the first time in days. How long? he wondered as he scanned the dim chamber. The tall candles had ceased to cast their magical light. The moon's rays alone provided illumination, and told the lateness of the hour. His mystic stood by an open window, and quietly viewed the stars. Dear Talitha, you are no longer the elusive spirit of my haunted dreams, but my lover and my mate.

He padded across the stone floor to her side. When he placed his hand upon her arm, she acknowledged him with her sapphire eyes. Her long, graceful fingers tentatively traced the white planes of his broad chest, and stoked the fire that smoldered within his breast. "Talitha, have mercy," he moaned as she finished her teasing above his navel.

The tigress guided his hand to the belt about her waist. "My lord...I await you."

Granted her permission, Tygra unbound the sash, and opened her robe. "You are the only sustenance for one who has spent his whole life starving." The silken garment drifted to the floor. He rained kisses and whispers upon her breasts. When the gentle tugs that she gave his mane became too strong, he ended his play. The time for joining had drawn close. He said reassuringly, "Please don't be afraid. I promise--"

Talitha placed her hand against his lips to silence him. "You are not the only one who hungers, elder" she chided gently. The affection she had imbued within his old title made him smile. He led her to the small bed.

"Come, dear one, and sit beside me." Once she had complied, he cupped her chin with his large hands. "Talitha," he murmured with each light kiss that he placed upon her lips. She tended his hardened phallus with such skill that he wondered what additional techniques of love she had learned from Cheetara.

She entangled him in a web of heated exploration. For each gentle bite he gave her white neck, she ran her claw tips delicately along the black stripes crossing his back until he could stand the delightful battle no longer. With seductive growls, he called her to joining. The cool wave that was his lover joyfully washed over him. "Mrísena bless us," he cried softly as he eased himself into his maiden.

*Tygra!* She branded his mind with his name, and burned him with her loss. Before he could reward her sacrifice with pleasure, a supernatural force lifted his soul from his body, and changed him into being of pure thought. From an unknowable and lofty vantage, he observed his physical form with fascination as it continued its ancient dance of life with his lover. Within the sphere of his consciousness, he knew with certainty that Talitha shared his strange perspective.

*Tygra, look!* A line of blue light outlined her mating body. Freed tendrils of power floated up to the hidden refuge of their souls, and spoke of the enrichment of the mystic's gift.

*Beloved Talitha, you are the healing light of Third Earth!* Tygra broadcast with pride.

*Accompany me, dear one,* she challenged.

*A choice...but no choice. Come!* His acceptance brought the blue power to his physical form. Despite his commitment, the impact of the sacred fire loosed his fears. *I am burning! Talitha, help me!*

The blanket woven from her love smothered his doubt. *Foolish tiger, I am,* his soul laughed. He revelled in the birth of the healing pathways that had lain dormant within himself.

His exaltation blended with his lover's approval. *Favored of Mrísena, my Tygra!*

The brilliance that had enhanced both healers grew until it consumed all reality. Tiger and tigress danced away their individuality in the flames. The imperfect connection that had bound them died, but from the phoenix fire a new pattern arose.

Removed from the constraints of time and matter, they swam together in an ocean of shared memories. The waters divided into a maze of images, each mirror a reflection of the past, the present, and the future.

*Despair! I am lost, please, I am so lost!*

*Courage my other! We must return. You must end the cycle.* In the crystalline palace, he found the luminous tigress, and followed her back to the domain of matter.

Tygra plummeted back into a body that still sought release. His forceful breaths matched the pounding of his heart which struggled like a trapped bird kept within a too small cage.

"Goddess!"

The mystic's plea brought him the freedom that he had sought. To his astonishment, he enjoyed her climax as well as his own. Each layer of their combined response found expression in their jubilant roars.

Tygra sighed as the last wave of orgasm ended. The exhausted mystic sprawled across his chest. Her sadness replaced his joy, and flooded his heart until he believed that it would burst from her loss.

"Dearest Talitha...the death of innocence births wisdom. So long ago...but I remember...awakening. I grieve with you." His words had no effect and drew no reply. The cool breezes of night made her shiver despite the warmth of his body. Too fatigued to comfort her with the caress of his mind, Tygra felt useless until the strain of a song began to drift through his thoughts. His melancholy deepened as he recognized the lullaby that his father had often comforted him with during his kittenhood. He did not question the inspiration. He stroked his lover and began to sing softly. Her sorrow transformed into peaceful acceptance. In a span of minutes, he had succeeded in lulling the mystic to sleep.

And still I feel her presence.... Tygra buried his face into her mane, and breathed deeply of her musky scent. He wondered with a mixture of awe and apprehension: is it always like this with a mystic? He left the thought unexplored as he slipped into profound sleep.

*****

Tygra silently regarded the sleeping mystic stretched across his chest. Even though he had arisen at dawn to tend to a full bladder, his movements had not awakened her. After he had cautiously stole back into bed, he had repositioned her without disturbing her rest. Except for the infrequent breath that Talitha took through slightly parted lips, she had remained immobile and silent.

Although Tygra yearned to join with her, he had no wish to awaken her from the sleep that she needed. I dare not move, he decided. Actually...I don't want to move...ever. It is perfectly reasonable for me to spend my days disguised as one, rather large orange pillow. He chuckled as an idea formed in his mind. Yes, Goddess help me, I can imagine myself growing quite fat and complacent under your loving attention, dear mystic.

A ripple along the mind-link alerted him to a change in her sleep cycle. Tygra grimaced. Was a section of his brain always to house her presence? If the condition persisted, he could never truly claim to be alone again.

An unfamiliar scene darted into and out of his thoughts: a handsome white tiger worked peacefully at his loom. The scarlet cloth that the middle-aged artisan wove was magnificent, and obviously designed for a royal patron. Talitha's father? Tygra mused. I shall have to ask her or my curiosity will not be satisfied.

He had not forgotten that the mystical forces that had forged their special bond had permitted them to share past experiences as well as visions. Yet strangely, he could not now recall Talitha's memories or the bizarre images whose origins remained unknown. Perhaps such remembrances are too much for the conscious mind to handle, Tygra concluded, but through dreams and insights, I may discover once more what we have shared. I shall have to keep a journal.

Tygra fingered a brown stripe of his lover's mane. The creation of the meld had been an unforeseen consequence of their lovemaking. Will we terminate this special link, if given the choice and the means? he wondered. Will we find that no choice exists for the arrangement that our love has made? When the silence calls, will it take us together?

He brushed his fingers along her face. Oh Talitha, I don't know what to think. Love has always left its mark upon me, but never before like this. If our bond persists, we will both have to learn how to build a new barrier to each other's presence to preserve our sanity. In this, dear one, you have the advantage. The intensive training that you have received as a mystic has made the formation of a protective barrier within yourself instinctive. In the past, my natural resistance to healing hindered my efforts, but automatically protected me. Our love has completely opened me to healing, and now I must learn to construct two shields: one to protect myself from my patients, and one against you. You already possess the former, and need only learn to construct an additional wall to keep me at bay.

Goddess help me, I face many days of struggle if this be true, Tygra concluded with gloom. Did the repeating cycles of nausea, vertigo and headache, which had plagued him since he had awakened, effect him alone? Could his discomfort be attributed to the new bond, his new ability, or both? Perhaps Talitha will know the answer... Goddess, I hope so. Not wishing to reactivate the annoying manifestations, which had momentarily ceased to torment him, he began to take long, slow breaths.

The meditative exercise soon quieted his anxiety. As he began to once again consider that he might prefer to remain in his contented state forever, voices and footfalls intruded on his peace. He identified Lion-o's clear tenor, and Panthro's snarls. His companions halted before the entrance to Talitha's chamber. He listened carefully to the discussion occurring on the opposite side of the door.

"Panthro, something must be wrong. Where could Tygra be? He is always awake by dawn. He missed breakfast, just like White, but he wasn't in his room. He was going to help you this morning. You know that he is prompt, not to mention--"

"Easy, Lion-o! I believe Tygra mentioned to me that he planned to help the warrior women today, something that involved healing. You know that White would surely accompany him on such a journey. If they were in serious trouble, that fancy sword sitting on your hip would warn you. Now why don't you stop worrying. Come help me survey the new thundrillium location as Tygra was supposed to do."

"Panthro, first of all, the sword is not infallible, and second--"

"By the blessing of Jaga, calm yourself! My lord, trust me. Tygra is as a younger brother to me. I would know if he faced danger. Now I suggest that you go to the dining hall, and have something to eat before we go out to the site, for the day will be long."

The panther's remark forced the architect to contain his laughter as he recalled several adventures with his friend and teacher that would have disputed the steadfast claims that the warrior had made.

"All right, Panthro, you have won your argument. I guess the Lord of the Thundercats has to trust his advisors...sometimes. Besides, having some of Snarf's freshly baked pie sounds like a good idea. After I eat, I'll meet you by the Thundertank."

"A wise decision, Lion-o."

The panther's relief dripped from his words. Tygra tracked Lion-o's footsteps. The noise from the opening and closing of a unseen door signaled that the young king had vacated the hallway. The ensuing silence lasted for only a moment before Panthro's bellows shattered the calm.

"It seems that one pompous tiger I know has finally relinquished his stubborn pride. It will do him good. If he is as wise as I believe him to be, he will hopefully put in an appearance sometime before dinner with a certain tigress of his acquaintance. Jaga knows, pies and fish stories won't keep the Lord of the Thundercats distracted for long!"

As he traced the panther's retreat, Tygra decided, I will have to apologize to Panthro with equal eloquence. The architect turned his attention back to Talitha, who had achieved the impossible by sleeping through the grey warrior's declaration. "Ah, dear one," he cooed, "I believe that we are really in trouble now." His stomach rumbled in agreement.

"Hmmm... what's that loud noise?" Talitha asked sleepily.

Tygra's laughter echoed throughout the chamber.

"I don't see what's so funny," Talitha huffed as she stretched. The mystic rubbed the sleep from her eyes, then straddled his hips.

The puzzled expression that crept across her face as she became aware of the extent of their bond made the tiger laugh harder. "Oh, dear one," he gasped, "forgive me, but--" Her soft lips smothered his attempt at an apology. Her desire poured into him. All his doubts, his fears, and his questions blended with hers then fled before the strength of their love.

His life, it seemed, had finally begun.