Drizzt and his Companion
© 2007 by Raphael-Cougar

Authors words:
The obligatory statement that all characters in this story remain the rights and property of the awesome author R.A. Salvatore.
This is my first attempt at a furry story, with an even furrier character, so please flame gently. Enjoy and know that if you don't read salvatore, some history will be lost upon you...

Drizzt and his Companion

Pulling his arrow free from the prostrate goblin at his feet, Drizzt gave a hearty sigh. The past few weeks had been nothing short of grueling, chasing goblins and highwaymen through the northern roads leading from the epic city of Calimport. While none of these fights had been overly difficult, they were starting to take a toll on the ever-watchful ranger.

Taking the beloved onyx figurine of a panther from his pocket, the dark elf called quietly to his closest friend of over a century. “Guenhwyvar, come to me” whispered the ranger, taking comfort in her presence even as the grey mist began to form into the shape of a great cat. Closer to 600 pounds than 5, the mighty hunting cat exuded an aura of confidence and control that many found unnerving. Despite this, the ranger that now stood beside this great beast was no member of the rabble that commonly traveled these roads.

Drizzt and Gwenhwyvar on the lookout Drizzt rubbed his hand through the thick fur at the base of Guenhwyvar’s neck and the cat gave a slight growl of appreciation. Neither of these two inseparable companions had been in contact for over a week, since the duties of an elven ranger were only compounded by the terror that the sudden appearance of such a creature would inspire into the innocent. Drizzt had been stretched to his limits, with his well-known companions off in Ten-Towns on the trail of a particularly troublesome group of giants.

Not wanting to startle any merchants or farmers returning to their homes after the long winter, the dark elf bade his companion to follow him into the more secluded woods nearby. A stiff breeze had come up, and the final bite of winter had not left the air, which was tolerable due to the copse of trees that the ranger now rested under. Musing over the seemingly endless slaughter that was necessary to safeguard the well-traveled roads of late, Drizzt let his mind wander into his own thoughts.

Having just passed his twelfth decade in life, the ranger had still not found a companion that he could proclaim his affections to. Cattie-Brie, the adopted daughter of the feisty king Bruenor Battlehammer, was a close friend to Drizzt, but the implications of a half-drow child drained the relationship of any romantic possibilities. In a world where half-elves were sparse indeed, the child of a dark elf would be most unwelcome, even given the heroic reputation of his father. Old grudges die hard, and the ranger couldn’t blame them, he had seen his own kind, more often than not, kill for the mere sake of killing.

Curious at the sudden lack of attention, the great cat resting beside the weary adventurer gave an indignant moan as she rolled over onto her side, cleaning one of her sizable paws. Drizzt, remembering that he had called his companion, leaned over and tickled the fur on the panther’s ear. “What would I do if I didn’t have you to keep me company?” asked the dark elf, knowing that his heart would be broken beyond repair should this companion of the ages come to an unfitting end.

True love, Drizzt mused, was destined for those sheltered safely in their beds at night, and not for the vengeful yet righteous defender of the lands. As this most unusual Drow began to stand and stretch, he felt a warm, furry caress against his lower leg, and nearly toppled when he shifted his balance. Imitating a common house cat, Guenhwyvar had begun to pace back and forth, giving her companion playful caresses and stirring the dry leaves around them into a prismatic, flowing carpet.

Sensing that something was not quite normal, Drizzt lowered himself to one knee and looked deep into the eyes of the cat now crouched in front of him. While the ranger had seen more wildlife than most, and knew what could come of such play, he never considered that a creature of the Astral Plane could have the same needs. While the great panther before him had never stopped to eat or drink on this plane, he pondered, what might she do when she returns to her home on the other side?

Suddenly, as if the summation of their time together had been naught but a second, everything now seemed clear to the ranger who had been in touch with nature before, but never viewed in his traveling partner. He turned his attention back to his furry friend and even took the liberty of voicing his concerns.

“Could this be possible?” asked the elf, “I never even saw it as such, but you desire a mate, one who can be there for you and not merely fade into the night when the deed is done.” Guenhwyvar appeared touched by the sentiment, pausing from her grooming to gaze back into the ranger’s eyes and blinked sumptuously. “What was the depth of the connection between the two?” pondered Drizzt, “Could this be the answer? No children could come of such a union, and while he had passed two lifetimes of the common man, the elf had never enjoyed the company of a female.”

Drizzt began to unbutton his tunic and took off the heavy sword belt at his waist, carefully folding the two magnificent blades around his tunic and placing them nearby against a tall pine tree. Now stripped to his trousers, the furry caress of Guenhwyvar was that much more poignant, each hair exciting the nerves of the seasoned warrior, causing his slender from to tremble with desire. Little did the ranger know, but this was the first time that the great cat had ever felt comfortable enough around another to allow such contact, and she had no intentions of stopping now.

Crouching low to the ground, the panther slowly swung her tail to one side, fearful of what the first time would be like. Often she had seen others pained by the mating, and a dull ache of uncertainty lingered in her mind. “Would this be more than she could take?” wondered the cat, even more doubtful about the differences in anatomy between her and the muscled ranger beside her.

Drizzt, stepping out of his trousers, slowly stroked the fur on the panther’s hind leg. Kneeling behind the black cat in front of him, he slowly began to lean forward, his now rigid phallus touching the opening of his beloved Guenhwyvar. As he shifted forward yet more, he slid into his companion with only the grace that an elf could muster, and a lustful moan emanated from the open maw of his lover.

Slowly beginning to rock back and forth, the sensations now coursing through the elf were none but pure ecstasy, each twitch from Guenhwyvar seemed to shake the very foundations of the earth. Mustering the discipline that he had used over the past decades, the ranger slowly continued his fluid strokes into the great cat.

Even though it was but mid-day, the great cat saw stars that she couldn’t imagine weren’t there. The slender elf behind her had not only avoided the painful sting that accompanied so many of her own species’ mating, but managed to touch the cat like she had never before experienced. Each thrust of the drow’s slender member brought her closer to losing control, every muscle going taut as a bowstring and finally driving her into a haze of pure pleasure.

The elf, now buried to the hilt in his lover, felt the powerful contractions racking his lover and pushed on past discipline, past the hope of return, and surrendered fully to the encounter. The two merged in spirit as one, and for a brief moment, the plane they were on was no more substantial than fog, with no sense functioning besides that of touch. Drizzt let out a feral groan, as did Guenhwyvar, and the two collapsed into the leaves littering the copses’ floor, spiritually and physically exhausted.

Several hours had passed, judging by the sun, when the ranger awoke, still hugged tightly to the furry back of his new soul mate. On legs that had still not recovered fully from the brief yet fierce lovemaking that they had shared. Guenhwyvar, stretching and shaking the leaves from her sleek, black coat, jumped up and gave the ranger a lick on the nose, then dissipated back to her home plane, since she could do little to recover her strength on the material plane.

Dressing again, feeling renewed like never before, the ranger set out with new hopes and beliefs that the future would no longer be a desolate haunt of corpses and death, but one that he could share and weather with the companion that he had never seen for what she truly was. Sad to see her go but with the conviction that she would return when she was ready, the elven ranger set out again to defend the highways of Calimport, safeguarding those who rarely knew that danger had been nearby.