Stallion Mage: A Horse Shifter Mpreg Romance (COMPLETE)

Safety and Solitude (18+)

Alvarr discovered that the hills were very different from the barren ground he had just crossed. Covered with tough, yet juicy-sweet grass and short purple flowers, it seemed more like spring than autumn.

The land, too, had a very different energy. When Alvarr reached to touch Nature's power, it responded. He found himself relaxing as though he were at home, alone in his birthplace in the forest.

And he smelled water. His nose led him to a small stream, and he drank until he gasped for air. Then, the mage bit one juicy plant after another until his stomach was full.

He wanted to clean the wound that the creature made with his tusk. Alvarr supposed he could shift to man-shape, but he was afraid how the wound would change on his softer human skin.

For now, he would look around for a place to rest. The mage could see the peaks of higher hills above the one in front of him, their size approaching small mountains. He could not travel far today, but he looked at the rounded, grassy hill in front of him and knew he could climb its gentle slope.

He was glad he did. At the top of the smaller hill, Alvarr looked down. In the valley, a wider stream ran, possibly as deep as his knee, and a line of dark, tall evergreen trees grew.

Fatigue hit him all of a sudden, and his body ached to just be still. The mage stumbled down the hill toward the promise of a soft bed of needles under a tree. Even his side ached less at the thought of a real night's rest.

No. He turned his head, finally daring to look at his gash with his wide equine vision. Though dried, dark blood streaked his coat, the edges had started coming together.

It was as he had thought; he was healing much faster than normal. Does that mean Nature is with me now?

He splashed into the wide stream, intending to cross, but stopped in the middle of it. Cleansing himself would only take a minute, and would probably help him to heal faster. Gritting his teeth, Alvarr shifted to man shape.

The cold shocked his feet and lower legs. His teeth chattered and he ran out, shivering. The he looked at his wound, which ran over the side of his stomach.

A sick dizziness washed over him. Alvarr put his hand over the gash, then slid it over his stomach. That had been far too close, he thought, pressing the heel of his hand over his navel.

But too close to what? The beast's tusks had not missed, after all.

He had better clean it. Still refusing to look, the mage sent his will out. Nature responded easily. Grass came together to form a small bowl, and he leaned over to fill it. His side protested; in man-shape, he could tell that not only was he torn, he was also bruised to the bone.

Holding his breath, he managed to wash himself and get most of the blood and dirt off. As soon as he could, he shifted back to four-legs.

Our man-shapes are so soft and weak, he thought. No matter how big a man was, an equine was bigger and stronger, and could withstand the elements much better.

"And," he said, walking under a tree, "we can just sleep on the ground." It was odd to hear his own voice, out of place against the quiet sounds of trees, water, and rustling birds. He didn't think he'd spoken since the time he left.

He had scented no predators like that beast, nor did he get any feelings of danger. Alvarr folded his legs under him and lay down in a bed of dried evergreen needles. He put his head down and relaxed into the ground. Closing his eyes, he could almost make himself believe he was at home.

White flowers grew thick over the ground. Alvarr walked through them, releasing their clean fragrance, as he made his way to the pond. He shook petals and leaves out of his hair.