In a little clearing, I see a male with three females. He is an old male. He is guarding the females, keeping them in sight, until they are ready. I am young and vigorous, and my blood seethes to mate.
We circle each other, growling, taking each other's measure. He is a skilled old fighter. Each season, he has defeated the younger males who have challenged him. He makes his move.
I am quick. I feint and lunge. My claws rake his flesh. Blood stains and mats his fur. Still, he fights on. I am young and vigorous. My blood seethes to mate. At last, he is vanquished, and he escapes into the forest. The females are mine, by right of conquest.
Watching the fight has made them ready. They roll on their backs, hind limbs in the air, their tails aside. I can see that their fur, between their legs, is wet. The scarlet blush of a gaping sexual orifice is there, and my impregnating organ is ready to serve them, long and hard.
I fall upon the first, my organ stabbing deep into her body. She roars and scratches my back with her claws. The injury is slight. When I have done with her, she rolls over, regains her feet. Blood dribbles down a hind leg. Her tail curls to cover her sexual orifice. She slinks away, to watch what will happen next. She will not, she cannot, mate again this year.
The second is a younger female; her fur is light in color, and she is not as strong as the first. She takes her place on her back, there in the grass of the little clearing, and it is only a matter of moments before she, too, is bleeding. I have well and truly impregnated her. She will bear my cubs before the snows of winter have melted.
The third is younger still. Likely, she has never mated, never borne cubs. I can see that she is in heat, sexually ready, but she shows fear, is reluctant to mate. With my fore paws, I roll her over onto her back. It takes only moments to force myself upon her. My impregnating organ meets resistance, but I stab deep, and soon she, too, bleeds. Next year, I will have fathered many fine cubs.
Two humans come, enter the little clearing. From the forest, I watch. They are strange creatures, smaller than we. They have no tails, and they have fur only on their heads. Their limbs and bodies are covered with naked skin, which gleams in the sunlight, like the skin of a fish. I cannot tell whether they are male or female, or maybe one of each.
The humans perform some strange ritual, putting their forelimbs on each other, nuzzling their mouths together. I watch. After a while, they lie in the grass, together, and do those strange things. I cannot figure out what they are doing. Then, one of the humans runs a foreclaw down the centerline of the other's belly, and the gleaming skin gapes open, showing remarkably pale flesh. There is no bleeding. The second slits the first's skin. Now I can see. They are male and female.
The female lies on her back, hind limbs in the air, and I can see that, just as our females do, she has a sexual orifice. The male has an impregnating organ, as we do, but his is very small, even though it is stiff. The male does not immediately cover the female. They seem to sniff at each other, and lick the skinless flesh. I have seen enough. My blood seethes to mate.
The male is no fighter. When my foreclaws draw blood, tearing great, red grooves, he escapes to the forest. The female behaves as my last mate did, seeming to be afraid. It takes me only a moment to roll her on her back. I begin to insert my impregnating organ. She roars and claws at my back. I stab into her, and she lies still.
She lies there, bleeding. She will not mate again this year. I wonder what our cubs will look like.
[END]