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Virgil sat on the river bank, his feet in the water. The black seaweed pleasantly touched his bare feet. As long as he could remember, he had always been able to transform into a swan. His parents did not know how to explain to their son why this was happening. Every time in childhood, he was told that it was a gift from the gods, although, as he grew older, the gift began to resemble a curse. Because of rumors about his abilities, the villagers avoided the animamorph, and he began to avoid society. After one incident, Virgil decided to move away from his native village. And for a couple of years now, he had been living by the river, sometimes in the body of a man, sometimes in the body of a swan.
Having examined the black tunic with long sleeves, the boy noticed that the hem of the clothes was torn in places after he, being a swan, made his way through the driftwood near the shore yesterday. Every day, the black bird swam along the shore, hoping to see at least one person. Often Virgil, hiding in the thick of the forest, watched the shepherds coming to the meadow with their flocks. He really liked one blond one, but he did not dare to approach him until one day.
When the sun disappeared behind the horizon and the first threads of fog flew over the dark surface of the river, the swan plunged into the water with a noise.
Its beady black eyes carefully followed every rustle of the grass. Gracefully bending its neck, the bird slowly swam to the opposite bank.
A small flock of sheep was grazing in the flooded meadow. The swan swam silently and hid in the thickets of cattails and reeds. He almost gave himself away when he stretched his neck out, seeing the very same shepherd next to the sheep. He wanted to take a closer look at the man.
Several sheep stopped chewing and froze. The measured splashes of water made the shepherd's dog worry. The boy woke up from a loud bark.
The bird began to hiss and flap its wings sharply, but this did not frighten the dog at all. The dog jumped into the water, trying to catch up with him. The heavy swan could not take off quickly, as it was already grabbed by the right paw. Having completely forgotten about sleep, the shepherd rushed to separate his dog and the unfortunate swan.
The water around them turned red..
"Stop barking!" the dog fell silent, but still held the wing in its mouth. "Let go!"
The swan silently opened and closed its beak. Its neck convulsively wriggled like a snake. The shepherd unclenched the dog's jaws and brushed drops of blood from the feathers.
The guy picked up the swan, who did not even resist. The exhausted bird could not straighten its neck, and the shepherd had to hold the massive body with one hand and the head with the other.
He laid the swan on the shore. The injured leg hung and did not move, and the other one was sharply rising and falling, as if it thought it was still in the water. The powerful wings moved weakly, the neck trembled barely noticeably. The young man could have sworn that he saw a tear flow from the bird's eye. He himself could hardly hold back his tears when he looked at how hard it was for the swan to breathe.
"I will take you home, cure you," the bird fell silent, as if listening to the words. "I will not harm you, I will just take you in my arms... like this... you are a kind swan, right?"
At home, the shepherd locked the dog in a cage so that he would not tear the bird to pieces again, and he placed the swan itself on a haystack next to the sheep.
"Yes, it's dark here. Lie here, I'll be back soon."
Alexander, as the guy was called, returned to the sheepfold, and in the silence, broken by a soft bleating, he heard a human groan.
"Who are you? What are you doing here? Get out of here!" the shepherd ran back into the house to light the torch.
Lighting up the sheepfold, he cursed in fear. A man about his age was lying on the hay. He was wearing a dark long tunic with blood stains on his right thigh, both arms and neck. Dark wet curls fell over his face.
"Why are you covered in blood? Did you cut my sheep or the swan I just brought? I'll cut you myself, I'd burn you on the spot!"
Alexander closely watched the stranger, who was trying to say words.
"Do... I... look... like a murderer?" each word was given with difficulty after a long silence in the body of a bird. The tongue did not obey at all, and the loss of blood with each passing minute clouded the mind.
"What kind of creature are you? How did you get here?"
"Y-you brought me...here."
"I was carrying a bird, and you're a man!"
"Yes, you brought a swan, but I..."
"I'm even interested in what you'll say."
"I'm a animamorph."
"I should have left you there..."
"What?" Virgil winced when Alexander began to grope his hand through the hay around him in search of a hidden knife.
"Well, how will you prove that you are that swan, and not a thief who accidentally ran into a knife?"
"I didn't have time to fly and your dog bit me."
Alexander froze and stared at the animamorph.
"I'm waiting for more proof."
-"You picked me up, you brought me here."
"What's your name?"
"Virgil. Aren't you from this village?"
"No," the shepherd introduced himself. "So what should I do with you?"
"As you wish. But I would prefer that you let me go. I will turn into a bird and quietly live out my hours on my beloved shore."
"I could cure you."
"Really?"
Alexander suppressed the urge to joke.
"And anyway, you should go inside, not waste away here. Can you stand up?"
"I doubt that you can."
The shepherd helped Virgil stand up, and they walked very slowly to the house.
"Take off your clothes," Alexander threw some wood on the fire under the pot. Tall shadows crawled across the unprepossessing room. Virgil sat down on a stool.
"Are you suggesting that I take them off myself? How am I going to treat you? Sit on my bed."
The animamorph sat down obediently, but again refused to pull off his tunic. Alexander bent down to untie the pieces of fabric that Virgil had wrapped around his feet.
"Where did you lose your sandals, huh?"
"A long time ago, they became too small for me, I threw them away."
The shepherd slowly lifted the fabric, first above the knee, waited for a reaction. Virgil blushed and clutched the sheets with his hands. To the silent question in Alexander's eyes, he mumbled that he was just cold.
Lifting his tunic to his hip, the boy noticed long stripes from claws and teeth marks.
"He really hurt you."
Alexander washed the wounds, smeared them with an ointment, the name of which Virgil did not know, but its smell reminded him of a mixture of familiar herbs.
"Raise your leg," the shepherd wrapped the wound with a clean cloth. The victim watched every movement of Alexander's hands. Virgil noticed light marks from his fingers on his thigh and blushed.
"And on your arms?" the boy asked.
"Yes," he lifted his sleeves, exposing his bitten shoulders. Alexander did the same with these wounds.
"Now the hardest part..."
Virgil looked at him in surprise.
"Gather your hair, otherwise it will get in the way," the animamorph replied that he did not have a rope or ribbon with him.
"Here's a rope for you."
"Thank you."
"Be patient."
The wounded man closed his eyes and grabbed his elbow.
"Don't shake so much, your carotid artery is not damaged, you will live. Everything is ready. Do you want to have dinner or should I pour you some grains like a bird?"
"Do you think this is funny? I will not."
"Well, as you know."
"What is your name? Remind me, please."
"It's interesting, you seem to turn into a bird, but your memory is like a fish," the shepherd repeated his name and tightened the knot on the bandage.
"So it's not too tight?"
"No. Where will I sleep?"
"I can make you a nest, but I can't get enough branches for your height."
"Thank you, I'll manage. If I'm bothering you, then tell me straight out, because I don't understand hints."
"There are no hints."
"I'm grateful to you for your concern, but I feel like I won't fool around here for more than one night," having said this, Virgil lowered his gaze.
"But think carefully, do you really want to leave?"
Virgil watched the dying dance of the fire for a while before answering.
"Oh, don't bother talking. I can tell by your eyes."
"What do you see?"
Alexander laughed and straightened the bed.
"You'll have to make room, settle in by the wall, feel like you're in your own nest."
Virgil rolled his eyes.
"Good night, dream of your river."
"It will be a nightmare. All because of your dog."
"Nothing personal, he was just protecting the herd. By the way, why did you swim to the shore? Not just like that, right?"
"Not just..., - Virgil answered quietly and fidgeted under the blanket."
"Why are you silent? Come on? Let me guess."
"Guess."
"Well, at least turn to me. Did you want to see me?"
"You say."
"So I brought you to clean water, my dying swan."
Alexander ran his thumb over his hot cheek, and then touched his parted lips.
"But still, tell me, what are you doing in this backwater?"
"I have hardly been here since I was seven, but after finishing my studies I returned here, and I am glad that I stayed to live here. Sometimes I write poetry, depending on the situation."
At night, Virgil suddenly woke up when he felt Alexander throw his leg over him. Even breathing behind his back made it clear that he was sleeping. The animamorph could not believe his luck: so many times he asked the gods to give him at least one chance to meet this man, and his prayers were answered.
Alexander stirred and hugged Virgil around the waist, but Virgil reacted immediately. He gently moved his hand aside.
The boy woke up.
"What are you doing?"
"You were hugging me."
"Oh, I'm used to hugging a pillow, and here you are. Sorry if I disturbed your wonderful sleep, birdie."
Virgil smiled and tried to fall asleep again. Alexander woke him up early in the morning to change the bandages. They were both surprised when they noticed the stark contrast to yesterday's appearance.
"Hmm, it heals on you like a dog."
"What do you mean?"
"The wounds have almost healed, apparently it's all about your two-faced nature, otherwise I don't know how to explain it. So. The sun has already risen, I need to check the sheep and do a ton of other things, and you sleep as much as you want."
"I can't sit around doing nothing."
"Write something, or... listen, maybe you could help me carry the lambs when I take the sheep to the pasture?"
"Okay, that's pretty easy."
"Get ready then," Alexander looked at Virgil's appearance.
"Oh, that won't do, your clothes are all dirty and tattered. I can share a wonderful wool tunic, light as silk, because it's made from the wool of my sheep."
"I won't refuse, but I'm sad to part with it."
"Why are you so attached to this junk?"
"It's dear to me, I don't know how to explain it." And I still have to get used to the new one.
"So you would wear it until it cracks from the dirt?"
"You could say that."
"You're strange. Catch it!" Virgil didn't react in time and the clothes flew past him.
Finally, he came out into the yard in a new outfit. At that time, the shepherd was washing himself with water from a barrel.
"Well, what do you think?"
"Don't come so quietly, you might end up stuttering!" Alexander exclaimed when Virgil came up to him from behind.
"I didn't want to scare you."
"Oh! It suits you very well, though it's probably a bit tight in the hips," the guy slowly put his hands on his hips and looked at his reaction. Virgil responded by pulling him closer and hugging him.
"The sheep are waiting for us, and here we are having a little fun," Alexander laughed.
"Choose where to go. To your river or over there," the shepherd waved his hand towards the field and a lonely winding tree.
"No, not the river. They almost killed me there."
"Then it's decided."
The sun was already almost at its zenith when they reached the field.
"The tree's shade is good."
Virgil sat down on the grass. Alexander finally finished looking at the peacefully grazing animals and joined him.
"You can sit here," the poet suggested. The shepherd followed the advice and sat between his legs, so that Alexander's head rested on Virgil's chest. But he could not stay in this position for long, so he turned around, peering into his dark blue eyes. Their fingers intertwined.
They were too much drawn to each other. But these moments, when millimeters remained to the lips, were incredibly exciting. They were not in a hurry. Kissing first the lips, then the neck and shoulders, they helped each other get rid of clothes. Naked and excited, they sat opposite each other. Moving forward with a jerk, they found themselves so close that the heated penis of the other was buried in the stomach of one. The lovers rubbed their sensitive flesh, and moans of pleasure flew from their lips. They felt equal, they felt the unity of not only their bodies. Virgil gave up the initiative and now smiled blissfully. He groaned and lay on his back. His breathing became heavier with each second. Alexander increased the speed. They stopped holding back. A whirlpool of touches and emotions made their heads spin, but both were waiting for just one moment. The orgasm rolled in gradually. It was like an avalanche gaining power. And soon the first came, and then the second, covering both their thighs with a thin layer of semen. In silence, they caught their breath, happy that fate had brought them together. Alexander wanted to fall next to Virgil, but he beckoned him into his arms. The shepherd simply had no choice but to bury his face in the slowly rising chest of his beloved.
"I hope that in the fall you will not fly away to distant lands like your feathered brothers."
"And why should I fly away? How can I live without you?"
"So it turns out that I had to tame a wild bird?"
"You won’t believe me if I say that this wild bird with all its soul longed to be in captivity with you."
Alexander smiled and raised himself on his elbows. He began to kiss his neck. The sweet sighs of this timid “swan” gave him great pleasure.
"Too beautiful..."