[18+] After a skirmish, Captain Slingtail is recovering from injury. His healer visits in the night…could something be brewing between the two?

Today’s story is the first of two parts of “Slingtail and Taren” by ArcticMage, who is an aspiring writer currently writing their first series.

Read for you by Rob MacWolf — werewolf hitchhiker.

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If you have a story you think would be a good fit, you can check out the requirements, fill out the submission template and get in touch with us.

https://thevoice.dog/episode/slingtail-and-taren-by-arcticmage-part-1-of-2

Voice

of

Dog.

This

is

Rob

MacWolf, your

fellow

traveler,

and

Today’s

story

is

the

first

of

two

parts

of “Slingtail

and

Taren” by

ArcticMage, who is

an

aspiring

writer

currently

writing

their

first

series.

Please

enjoy


“Slingtail

and

Taren” by ArcticMage, Part 1 of 2

Knock,

knock,

knock…
A

gentle

rapping

at

the

door

to

the

captain’s

hold

wakes

Captain

Slingtail

from

his

needed

rest.

He

looks

out

the

window;

the

moon

is

resting

near

the

peak

of

the

heavens.

He

must

have

been asleep

for

several

hours.
“Come

in,”

he

groggily

calls

out

to

the

source

of

the

sound.
As

Slingtail

regains

his

bearings

from

the

brawl

in

the

Vishnelle

square,

he

winces

at

a

sharp

pain

in

his

right

thigh;

it is

bandaged

in

white

linen,

though

stained

crimson

with

blood.

His

head

is

spinning

and

a

throbbing

starts

to

ache

in

his

skull.

He

sits

up

in

bed,

and

through

his

haze

sees

Taren

approaching

him,

carrying

a

tray

with

a

pitcher,

goblet

and a

warm

bowl

with the day’s

stew.
The

hyena

speaks

softly.
“Here,

Captain.

Eat and

drink

some

water; you’ve lost

a lot

of blood and need

to recover your strength.”
The

otter

vigorously

slurps

down

the

stew;

he is

clearly

hungry

after

today’s

excitement.

He

takes

a

swig

of

water

and

cracks

a

sly

smile.
“You

know,

I could get

used

to having

a

manservant.

You’ve

got

a

beautiful

ass…even

better,

you’ve

already

got

my

breeches

off—”
The

hyena’s

face

immediately

flushes

red.

A

smack

to

the

captain’s

right

arm

signals to

him

that

he

should

back

off

a

little.
“Sorry,”

Slingtail

says

sheepishly. “That

was

too

far,

wasn’t

it?”
Taren sighs.
“You

idiot. I’m

not

your ‘manservant’

and I’ve

been

worried

about

you

ever

since

today’s

battle.” The

healer

chuckles. “However,

judging

by

your

crude

attempt

at ‘romance’,

I’d

say

your

leg

is

healing

properly?

Are you keeping it

level?”
“As

level as I

can

be,”

the otter

grunts.
“Good.

Let’s

have

a

look.”
Taren

slowly

unwraps

the

bandage

from

Slingtail’s

leg,

being

careful to

not

aggravate

the

wound.

The

previous

healing spell

has

sealed

up

the

gash

and

stopped

the

bleeding,

but

it

needs

a

bit

more

care.
“Good

it

looks

like

it it’s

healing

nicely;

all it

needs is

another

spell.

Hold

still;

this

may

hurt

a

bit.”
The

hyena

raises

his

right

paw

over

the

wound,

radiating

with

golden

light

and a

glowing

sigil

of

Medhi,

the

phoenix

goddess. The

wound

fully

closes

up

and

the

scabbing

is

washed

away,

leaving

only

a

minor

bruise.
“Thank

you!

Gods,

that

feels a

lot

better,”

the

captain

exclaims

with a

relieved

sigh. “Is it

safe

to

try

standing up?”
“I

think

so,

but

brace

against

me.

It’s

not

fully

healed

yet.”
Slingtail

does

as

he’s

told

and

puts

his

arm

around

Taren’s

shoulder.

The

healer

lifts

the

captain

as

he

attempts

to

stand

up.

Once

on

his

feet,

Slingtail

takes

a

few

steps

en

pointe

and

turns

around to

face

Taren with a

flourish,

taking

an

exaggerated

bow.
“Your

Captain is forever in your

debt,

my

liege.”
Taren

struggles

to

contain

a

full-toothed

grin

from

ear

to

ear

and

he

starts

to

giggle;

he

has

no

choice

but

to

admit to

himself that

this

ridiculous

display

of

theatrics

is

incredibly

endearing.

He

also

starts

to

blush; he

realizes

that

the

captain

is

still

very

much “baring”

everything

to

the

elements.
“Is

my

Captain

feeling

a

bit

chilly?

You

seem

to

be

missing

something

important.”
“Only

if

my

liege

is

shy.”

He

raises

an

eyebrow

with

a

cheeky

grin.
Taren

grabs Slingtail’s

breeches

from off

the

bed

and

throws

them

at

him

with a

violent

force,

his ears

burning

intensely

with

the

heat

of

embarrassment.
Slingtail

playfully

sighs.
“Ah,

well.

Can’t

blame

me

for

trying.

You

just

look

so

adorable

when

you’re

flustered.”

He

winks.
The

otter

makes

himself

decent

and

returns

to

the

bed

to

sit

down.

Taren

finds

a

chair

at

the

table

opposite

the

bed and

does

the

same.
There

is

a

pause

before

the

hyena

opens

his

mouth

to

speak.
“There

is

something

I’ve

been

meaning

to

ask

you,

though.

You

had

the

leader

of

our

attackers

cornered

in

the

town

square

when

we

were

pushing

the

offensive,

but

you

seemed

reluctant

to

continue

the

chase

when

you

saw

his

face.

If

I’m

not

mistaken,

you

seemed

to

know

him.

I don’t

mean

to

pry,

but

it’s

been

worrying

me.

Who

is

he? And

why

did

he

call

you

Syl?”
Slingtail’s

expression sours and

his

brow

furls,

as

if

he’d

been

dreading

this

conversation.

He

sighs

and

begins

to

speak.
“I

knew

my

past

would

eventually

come

back

to

bite

me

in

the

ass;

I

just

hoped

it

wouldn’t

be

so

soon.

What

happened

today

is

partly

my

fault.

Since

my

weakness

led

to

you

pupsitting

my

sorry

ass,

I

suppose

it’s

fair

that I

owe

you

an

explanation.

On

one

condition,

none

of

what

I’m

about

to

say

leaves

this

room

unless

I’m

ready

to

share

it.”
Taren

gulps

and

takes

a

breath.
“You

have

my

word.”
Slingtail

awkwardly

chuckles.
“I guess

this

is

like a

confession,

huh?

I should

get

one

of

those

private

booths

where

I

lay

all of

my

transgressions

bare

before

my

healer.”
The

hyena

chuckles

with a

similar

awkward

demeanor.
The

captain

continues.
“Let’s

start

with

this.”
He

walks

over

to

his

nightstand

and

opens

the

top

drawer. He

pulls

out

a

gold

chain

adorned

with

a

quite

ornate

crest

and

shows

it

to

the

healer. It

depicts

an

otter

in

the

center,

enveloped

in

ocean

waves

and

encrusted

with a

ring

of

precious

stones

along

its

edges.
Taren

recognizes

the

crest instantly,

his

eyes

widening.
“That’s

the

symbol

of

House

Aquarius!”
Slingtail

nods.
“Precisely.

You’re

looking

at

the

eldest

son

of

Francis

Tybalt

Aquarius,

also

known

as

Sylvanis

Alexander

Aquarius.

In

the

flesh.”
He

takes

another

greatly

exaggerated

bow,

this

time

dripping

with

contempt

and

sarcasm.
The

healer

pauses

for

a

moment.
“Hang

on.

If

you’re

the

heir

to

House

Aquarius…Doesn’t that

directly

clash

against

your position

as

captain

of the

Pauper’s

Revenge?”
Slingtail lets

out

a

chuckle.
“It

would

seem

that

way,

right? A

noble

heir

organizing a band of

pirates

to

sabotage

his

own

family’s

wealth

and

power.

Lucky

for

us,

my

dearest

Father

had

other

plans

for

his

biggest

disappointment.”
He

downs

the

rest

of

the

water

and

reaches

for

a

fresh

bottle

of

grog

and

two

mugs

he

had

sitting

on

his

desk (almost

as

if

he

does

this

often,

presumably

with

his

poor

first

mate)

and

fills

both with the

bitter

smelling

elixir.

He

raises

his

mug

and

sets

the

stage

with

a

dramatic

lilt.
“Gather round,

ye

who

dare to

listen,

grab

a

pint

of

grog,

and

listen

to

my

tragic

tale

of

betrayal

and

woe.”
He

clears

his

throat

and

resumes with

his

usual

dulcet

tones.
“You

see,

from

birth,

I

was

expected

to

do

great

things.

Being

the

firstborn

son

of

House

Aquarius, I

had to

learn

how

to

navigate

the

ins

and

outs

of

our

society

and

play

nice

with

other

houses.

Father

expected

me

to

have

the

best

education,

show

off

my

artistic

talents

to

the

world,

learn

the

methods

of

my

family’s

ancient

business,

always

speak

clearly,

keep

my

posture

straight,

learn

fifty

languages,

abuse

the

family

servants,

spit

on

peasants. You know,

the

quintessential

shit

expected

of

a

noble

heir.

Only

problem

is,

I

consistently

lacked ‘discipline’

and ‘reverence

for

the

proud

traditions

of

House

Aquarius’,

as

Father

famously

beat into

my

head (often quite

literally).

I

can’t

fucking

imagine

why

any

child

would

crack

under

all of

that

pressure

and

decide

to

fuck

off

and

rebel.

But,

I’m

getting

ahead

of

myself.
My

younger

brother

Augustus

was

born

when I was at

the

age

of

five.

Lovely

chap;

you

may

recognize

him

as

the

poor

lost,

dopey

face

who was

in

charge

of

today’s assault.”
Taren utters

an “ahhhhh” of

realization as

he

puts

the

pieces

together

in

his

head.

Slingtail

continues.
“At

this

time,

I

gained

a

new

responsibility.

Since

our

ships

are

frequently

the

target

of

ne’er do wells

and

scallywags

on

the

open

sea (an

irony

that is

far

from

lost

on

me),

I

was

to

always

protect

Auggy and

keep

him

out

of

trouble,

as

he

was

next

in

line if

something

happened

to

me.

With

the

benefit

of

hindsight,

I am

aware of

how

damaging it

was

to

burden

the

knowledge

of

potential

death,

dismemberment, and

harm

on

such

a

young

mind.

But,

I

digress.
Regardless,

I

was

to

show

him

the “right

path”

and

set

an example. Honestly, this wasn’t too taxing; Auggy was a well behaved kid. Did

exactly

as

he

was

told and

never

questioned

anything.

I

bear

no

ill

will

toward

him

these

days.

Based

on

what

I

know

of

him,

I

strongly

doubt

he

was

really

the

one

who

pulled

the

strings

behind

our

scuffle

today.

Should

explain

my

questionable

behavior

when

I

finally

had

him

in

my

grasp.”
Taren

nods.

This

is

starting

to

come

together.
“And

now,

the

juiciest

detail to

this

drama

that

is

my

pathetic

life.

Why

am

I

sitting

here,

captain of

the

most

notorious

band of

scallywags

my

Father

has

ever

had

the

displeasure

of

facing

on

the

open

sea?

Well,

if

you’ll

remember

my ‘lack of

reverence

to tradition’

as

Father

so

eloquently

put

it,

he

was

far

from

pleased with my…tastes in who I tended to spend

my

evenings

with.

Such

a

scandal

could

ruin

our

whole

reputation

as

a

distinguished

House

of

the

Nobility--”
Taren

interrupts

with a heavy

sigh.

Slingtail

stops

his

monologue

for

a

second

to

look

back

at

the

hyena; he

seems

to have

struck

a

nerve.
“Sorry,”

Taren

says

timidly. “I…actually

know

firsthand of

what

you’re

describing.”
The

captain

takes

a

seat

in

the

chair in

front

of

Taren, donning

an

expression of intrigue.
“Oh?

We can revisit

me later;

now

you

have

my

FULL

attention.

Is

our

handsome

man

of

the

church

not

as

pious

as

he

claims

to

be?”
The

healer

sheepishly

rubs

the

back

of

his

head.
“You

could

say

something

like

that.

You

may

find

this

hard

to

believe,

but

I

came from a

very

similar

upbringing.

I

don’t

have

any

fancy

chains

to

show,

but

in

the

spirit

of

sharing--and

maybe

some

of

this

grog--my

full

birth

name

was

Taren

Adrian

Silverfang.”
Slingtail’s

eyes

light

up

with

giddy

excitement.
“Fates

be

damned!

I

never

would have

suspected.

How

does

a

distinguished

Silverfang

in

the

prime

of

his

life

wind

up taking

a vow to

the

church,

swearing

away

his

family

name,

gold,

and

the

pleasures

of

the

flesh?”
Taren

takes

a

swig

of

grog,

finishing

his

mug.
“You

could

just

as

easily

tell

me,