Immensely grateful to both his friend Patch and his new acquaintance, Iris, Spencer asked Patch to leave him a short but safe distance from the foxhole he had dug for Samantha. "I can't ask you to bring me any closer; you have both done so much for me already," Spencer yelled upward at the flying Patch. King Patch's massive, tiger-striped owl wings flapped as he began his descent, and Spencer continued to point out the way to a copse of trees a few minutes' run from where he had left the female his heart already belonged to. "I'm not sure what danger may await as I approach," Spencer explained to the couple, "and Patch, you still have so much to teach Iris about our world. Go back to the Sea Cliffs and enjoy one another's company, and I'll catch up with you later." Spencer gave them one last look, a cheeky grin on his face, and he set off at an amazing speed toward, he hoped, a safe and sound Samantha.

Spencer smelled the location long before he reached it. As he had predicted, a massive free-for-all had occurred here shortly after his departure; at least thirty males of various races lay on the ground rotting, and some looked as though they had been mostly devoured by either the victor of the melee battle or a serendipitous scavenger. There was rank blood covering the ground, but Spencer thanked his lucky stars that he couldn't detect Samantha's scent among any of it. She must have remained inside the foxhole, unless she had changed her mind for some reason and attempted to follow him through the hidden tunnel exit he had used to escape. Transforming into his fox beast shape, he rounded the site until he found the plain dirt indicating the entrance tunnel he had purposely caved in, and began to dig his way into the desecrated remains of the home he had made for his love. As his giant fox paws parted the loose earth, Spencer held onto the desperate hope that she was still in there, and more than anything, that she was still alive.

St. Benjamin was still in the same position he had assumed days ago, guarding Samantha's failing body. His venom was generally used only to stun or poison his opponents in battle, but whenever he felt Samantha stir, he stung her again to paralyze her. He would never forget the helpless agony he felt as her body started to seize; if this was all he could do to save her from suffering another episode, he would continue to do it. The sound of digging at the opposite wall was growing louder, and St. Benjamin clutched Samantha's body even more tightly than before, nearly forgetting that he was strong enough to cause injury to her himself. He gave her one last small injection for good measure and began to mentally prepare himself for whatever was coming their way. St. Benjamin did not want to fight for the prize he had so recently acquired, although it seemed that doing so would be unavoidable. He had had plenty of time to recover from the light wounds inflicted by the much weaker beastmen with whom he had fought for the right to possess this female, and he was certain that whoever was making their way inside would meet the same fate as the beastmen whose bodies littered the ground above.

At last, beams of light began to stream into the foxhole, and St. Benjamin did not let his eyes leave the widening tunnel as he devoted all of his energy to learning more about his would-be opponent. At last, a red, white, and black fox head was visible, and the ungodly stench of rot began to fill the chamber. St. Benjamin's heart sunk into his stomach - it appeared that Samantha's "Ao-ao" had indeed returned for her, and he was loathe to share her, much less give her up. 'At least Samantha is unconscious,' he thought, the idea coming into his mind unwillingly, 'If she smelled this stench, it would likely be the end of her.' Then, again unbidden, another thought: 'But since she is unconscious, she won't know that this fox ever came back for her. If I get rid of him, whatever time she has left will be mine alone.' Remembering also how achingly Samantha had called out, "Ao-ao!" after awakening from her nightmare, a twinge of guilt wedged its way into St. Benjamin's mess of emotions.

As he finally entered the cave, Spencer was able to see a strangely-shaped figure that was clearly not Samantha hunched over on the furs he had left behind for her use. "Who's there?" he called out as he shifted to his beastman form, steeling himself for a fight. Spencer vastly preferred to use brains over brawn, but if it came down to it, he was more than confident that he could handle himself in combat. He heard a slow clicking sound as the figure began to move, revealing another, smaller silhouette underneath as the renewed scent of Samantha hit Spencer's senses. "Are you the one Samantha calls 'Ao-ao'?" St. Benjamin responded. "I am," he replied warily, unsure how this stranger had come by that piece of information, "Who's asking? And what have you done to Samantha?" Spencer couldn't help but note that neither the stirring of the other beastman nor the sound of their voices had elicited any reaction from her, and the concern he felt was rapidly getting out of hand.

"What makes you think I did something to her, 'Ao-ao'?" St. Benjamin mocked, "I know you knew she was sick, you have no evidence that I've done anything but help her, which I have," he said sternly, the last three words uttered nearly staccato. "By the way," he continued dryly, "She said she wanted you to have these." He picked up Samantha's glasses from their place on the ground, holding them out lazily with one of his human-style arms and not bothering to hide the others. He actually swung his scorpion tail out to the side for further emphasis, as if to provoke the fox he viewed as an intruder. "A feral," Spencer said snidely, "I should have guessed it from the carnage outside." If St. Benjamin hadn't been pissed off before, he certainly was now. He threw the glasses the rest of the distance to Spencer to keep his promise to Samantha in word if not in deed. "Oh, you mean because I was the victor?" St. Benjamin taunted back.

"Look," Spencer said wearily, "I really don't have time for this, and neither does Samantha. Let me take her away from this fetid place and save her; that is, if you care for her at all." Spencer was close enough to smell the fact that this scorpion, for whatever reason, had not made Samantha his mate, and while he felt relief in his heart, he was not reassured that the female he loved was not in danger. "Yes, 'Ao-ao', she does need to leave here now that you've fouled up the air," St. Benjamin taunted again, "but you can't leave here without me. Not unless you don't want the antivenin that will allow her to wake up unharmed." Spencer sighed. "Please," he said, annoyed, "don't call me by that name. My name is Spencer, and I'd appreciate if you'd use it." Raising an eyebrow at the potential peace offering, the scorpion beastman gave his name as well.

"So," St. Benjamin said lightly, "Where are we going from here? We'd best be on our way for Samantha's sake, if nothing else." Spencer sighed again, defeated. The method for obtaining antivenin from a scorpion was a tightly-guarded secret of their race, and he didn't have the slightest clue about how to make it. St. Benjamin would have to come along unless he wanted Samantha to suffer the side effects of however much scorpion venom had been given to her over the days he had been gone. He began to blame himself for their situation, but did his best to put his feelings of guilt to the side until Samantha had recovered. "We need a safe place for me to feed emerald spars to her," Spencer began, "and I buried a few of my more useful belongings off of a tunnel not far from here. If you can carry Samantha and follow behind me quickly, I will lead the way there."

St. Benjamin wasted no time on words and went to lift Samantha's unconscious body from its inelegant resting place. "Place her on my back, over my tail. Place her arms over my shoulders and I will hold them with these," he commanded, clicking his pincered appendages in Spencer's direction to demonstrate, "I can use my stronger arms to help navigate more quickly through the tunnel." Spencer complied with St. Benjamin's directions and put Samantha gently on the scorpion's back, moving around to her front and putting the glasses she had left for him on her face in the manner he recalled her wearing them. He hoped that the scorpion would stick to the plan and follow him, if only for the spars that would return Samantha's health to her. If for a second he doubted St. Benjamin's intentions, he would tear every limb from the scorpion's body in search of the antivenin he needed to revive Samantha.

Author's Note:

As of publishing this chapter, I have more than 1k reads and 110 votes! I just wanted to take a small amount of time to thank all of you who have supported me in such an unexpected but extremely appreciated way! Your votes, comments, and views motivate me to write and update every day that I can, and to publish the best chapters I'm capable of for all of you! So thank you all so very much, I'm grateful beyond words to see these numbers I'd never even dreamed of! Until next time!