Stallion Mage: A Horse Shifter Mpreg Romance (COMPLETE)

A Friend's Support

Alvarr woke up sweating and salivating.  He could smell the faint traces of the smoky fire that Elder Mastok had used last night, and it was making him-

Outside.  He needed to get outside.  

He slipped off the pallet and ran unsteadily for the entrance.  When he had gotten outside, he bent over, and his stomach emptied.  Afterward, he felt weak and shivery.  The last thing he wanted to do was change to four-legs and graze, but he knew he had to.

On unsteady human legs, he made his way toward a secluded spot.  The dry brown grass close to the camp had been cropped short long ago, and hadn't regrown with the lack of rain.  I'm not doing anything wrong, he told himself.  But he did not want the others to see him eating fresh green grass when they, themselves, had to range far, spending all their energy on foraging.

The truth was, Alvarr wasn't sure if his power would answer him.  It seemed like it had become more and more unresponsive, ever since he had returned.  When he got to a spot where he could not hear the sounds of any other stallion, he shifted, gritting his teeth against the disorienting nausea that accompanied the change.  

Breathing deeply until it subsided, he listened in all directions.  No one.  Alvarr sent a tiny thought to Nature.  Please, if you love me, give me something to eat.

Slowly, bright blades of thick grass grew around his hooves, but did not spread much.  When the mage moved, the trail followed him.  The very sightof the fresh food made Alvarr sick, but he made himself chew and swallow until he had eaten as much as he could stand.

Elder Mastok had called Laren his mate, and Alvarr did not know what to make of that.  He wanted to believe in mates, but that did not mean that Laren was his.  Or that he was Laren's.  

And his journey had taught him something about himself; far from just being one of the herd, Alvarr was his own stallion, and far stronger than he had thought.

Though he wanted Laren's acceptance, and willingly obeyed the Elders and the leader, Alvarr did not need them.  Though it was lonely, he had proven that he could survive on his own, and it had changed him.

If he and Laren were supposed to be together, it was up to Alvarr to make the leader see that.  With my magic and his leadership, we could make the tribes come together.  We could even lead the tribes to the old civilization.

The mage started walking back toward the camp.  Thank you, he sent to the earth, and the green trail disappeared like water on a hot stone.  

And not a moment too soon.  The distinctive shapes of Thane and Nassor stood directly in his path.  Of all the times to see them.  Alvarr was not at his best; he was weak and shaky, and had just vomited - a dangerous condition during such scarcity.

I'll just have to walk quickly back toward the camp.  He kept progressing at a steady pace, neither shying away from those two nor hurrying toward them.

As Alvarr approached, Thane's nostrils flared as he scented the air.  "Mage," he greeted in his cool, flat voice.

"Thane," Alvarr returned, and kept on his path toward the camp.  He forced himself to have no outward reaction, but his coat began to prickle with awareness of his two former bullies.  What do they want from me?

"You smell as fresh as a mare," Nassor grunted, flanking the mage's other side.  

They were trying to pen him in.  Usually, Alvarr was faster, but not in his present condition.  He would have to keep them talking before they did… whatever they were going to do.  "I don't understand why that would be," the mage said.  "I am not a mare."  As much as you tried to tease me about it.