Sharing Customs and Constellation


Written by Septia.


“Star, is everything going alright back there?”
	I peered over the fold in the tent's roof, looking at the buffalo.
	“I'm on the last leg of getting the tent up,” I took a moment to wipe my brow with the back of my wing, remnants of today's hike still clinging to my coat. Flying up with the rope clenched in my teeth, I tugged until the roof stretched taut… After securing the rope I landed to stand in front of of it. It did hit me that the tent was on the, slim end. 
	“Huh, this sure felt a lot bigger when I was camping with mom,” I mumbled and strode a cursory circle around it. It could still, perhaps, fit two. It would get cramped. Steppe had assured me that she was fine without a tent, but I'd gone through the effort to bring it along so using it for myself would just seem selfish at this stag-. 
	“Star,” Steppe chimed, “your food is getting cold.” 
	I shook the worry off of my face, along with the notion this was creeping ever closer to the camping trips with my mother. I couldn't make the same mistakes here. “Coming, Tumble Steppe,” I leapt up from where grass transitioned into dry earth, and soared towards the plateau’s edge, bathed in Luna's light. There, a safe distance from the cliff – but close enough to get a view of the valley below – a blanket laid unrolled. Atop one side of this blanket sat a hill of hazel fur and kindness. 
	“Certain that everything is spry? I have been pulling my weight for the herd since I was a calf, so I'd be more than happy to help.” 
	I hushed a chuckle. Tumble Steppe was still an age away from being a full grown buffalo, but that already put her in a weight class above most ponies. Up close I began to wonder if she was as tall as the tent, even laying down. The poofy mane of fluff did bulk out her figure some, except where they were hung into braids. After staring a bit too long in contemplation, I joined her on the blanket.
	“I just haven't been walking that much in a day for a few moons, but thanks, always happy to know I have your support, darling.” 
	Steppe snickered with a rumble that reverberated through her sturdy core. Then leaned in to nuzzle against my neck. 
	“We've got a few days to go yet, you know?” 
	“Aha, yeah but I'll be fine.” I assured her. 
	She fished up a few parcels from the satchel, and offered me one. 	“Here, my dad used to make this for long migrations.” 
	I unfolded the layers of fabric, uncovering a roll of boiled thistles cooled to a soft shell. After a bite I discovered it to be filled with a mixture of spices and crunchy, smoked moss. “Mmf… this is good,” I said, then halted myself, taking another bite of the cool wrap. “Didn’t you say my food was getting cold?” 
	“Yes, it has been ever since I cooked them yesterday, that's the point of them~.” Steppe mused with a cheek full of well cured moss, and under the painted night sky, with a dear friend, I could not but smile myself stupid.


Side by side, back to blanket, we watched the stars. Together we had worked through six thistle rolls – Steppe might not have gotten tired from the day's trek, but she appeared to still have worked up an appetite. 
	I turned my head, watching her, engrossed by the lights above, her stomaching rising and sloping to a smooth rhythm. While we had first planned this trip, and through the first day, neither of us could stop talking, discussing where we wanted our trial to lead, which paths held the pretties views, and talking about everything we were going to do together. And here we were, doing nothing… There, was a lot I wanted to say, but, was now a good time? Did she want to hear it now? She looked so peaceful. And yet, how long had we just been laying here, staring? I turned my gaze back to the sky, trailing along a pattern of stars. I raised my hoof. “I'm glad Solar wind was right about the report, it is clear enough to see the shawl of generosity constellation.” 
	Steppe blinked. “Oh? Where is it?” 
	“It is the four stars that goes along here,” I gestured. 
	“I… I don't see it.” 
	“Here,” I said and scotched closer, holding my hoof up between us so she could follow its direction, “Those four stars, there, there, and along there, together form the shawl, see?” After saying that, I realised we were close enough that her coat brushed into to mine, all along from my shoulder to my hooves… 
	“Ooh, yeah I think I see,” she said, contemplating, “but, isn't that the line on the stag-fisher's pole?” 
	It was my turn to blink. “Excuse me?” Then I felt a hoof wrap around my side, and tug me even closer to her embrace, as it was her turn to guide my eyes, inviting me into the embrace of the carpet of fluff snuggling her body. 
	“See, the top star connects to this one up here, which splits there and all along here, see it?” 
	Calming myself, I focused on the patterns above. “I, think I see what you mean, but, the horns are the bowl of Tartarus constellations, isn't it?” 
	“Huh, that's makes two I haven't heard of,” she pondered. 
	“Hang on, does this mean, you have different names for all the constellations?” 
	“I had never thought about it, but, seems so. There is a whole breadth of patterns and stories in the sky.” 
	“A whole series of constellation, which I have never known?” 
	“Well, they've been there, it’s the same sky,” she proposed, “though you just haven't seen them.” 
	There was another linger of silence, though now, there was a warmth of shared heat.  “Could you, teach me to see them?” 
	Steppe smiled. 


The night transpired as we regaled one another about our views on the stars. I told her of the royal crest, the windigoe tail, and the baker. In return, I was made aware of constellations such as the rising tide, the phoenix feather, and the thief of storms. At times, it was embarrassing how many constellations I could name and find, but for each one I brought up, Steppe would match me. 
	“Where did you learn all of these?” I wondered. 
	“Mostly from my father. In the evenings of longer stampedes or migrations, we would lie back and stare at the sky, however far we went, we'd be able to find them.” 
	“Wow,” I mumbled, “so every night, you'd watch the stars with him?” 
	“Well, there were other stories to tell too, and not every night, it would be a bit tough when he had just traded places with… mo-mom…” The confidence in her sentence drained into silence. 
	I turned my muzzle to her face, but she avoided my gaze. “What… do you mean? 
	“It is, it is really nothing.” 
	“How could somepony, not be there? During a migration?” 
	“It is… I mean…” 
	“Look, it's fine if you don't wanna say, but you really have peeked my curiosity because I cannot see how that would-.” 
	“It was tough to hold a real conversation when he was resting in my mother's stomach, that's all.” 
	She didn't make eye contact for a while, but when she did, boy do I wish I could have closed my jaw… 
	“I knew I shouldn't have said anything…” 
	“Wait wait wait.”
	“It is just too tough to explain, and whenever I try it, goes like this,” she rambled. 
	“Steppe, please,” I said, and held around her neck mane, she calmed in the massage, and mellowed to a calm. “I shouldn't have pushed it, and I should not have reacted that way. Let's take it from the top, explain, I'll listen. Promise.” 
	She pouted, then sighed. 
	“It is not that much to say, honestly. During long stampedes, we would trade off who ran now and then, carrying one another in our first stomach to let them rest. That way we, had no need to ever slow down, and could make it longer… distances.” 
	I nodded.  “Yeah, that does make sense, kinda, I guess… aahem. So, you all traded off doing this?” 
	Some… times. If somepony needed it. Mostly it was… a thing between couples.” 
	“Aaah, so your mom and dad-.” 
	“Yup.” The fur on her neck raised, and she tapped her front hooves together intermittently. 
	“Is it an, intimate, thing?” 
	She took in a long breath through her nostrils. “Yeehp. And, also not exactly, something I've spoken about with a pony before.” 
	“Have you ever…?” 
	She paused, and then nodded. “Many years ago. Mostly to help out.” 
	I paused. “Ever thought about eating me?” 
	I sensed the tension of sinew under my hooves, slowly easing as she turned to stare at me. 
	“Y-e… M-me, y-y-you…?” 
	I swallowed, trying to fight the urge to obscure my fluster. “Maybe I'm mistaken, in how it works within your, customs. If so I am, sorry, and hope I didn't offend.” I said, staying close by her side. “But, if I don't understand then… well… I'd, like to.” 
	Steppe started at me, as if I had transformed into a timberwolf – a cocktail of confusion and fascination. 
	“Mom said, some of our customs could, be scary to others.” 
	“If it is you, I am not scared,” I said, brushing over her torso. “Show me, make me understand.” 
	A light pink, crept up on Steppe's cheeks. 
	“And today really tired me out, so if it gets me out of walking tomorrow, ehe, I'm in?” I added. To which Steppe scoffed into a fit of giggles -Bghrlgpghgsa- as I felt a growl curling under her coat. 


~ 1 ~


“Are you sure?” 
	“O-only if you will have me, you did work through a fair bit of food.” 
	Steppe scoffed some. 
	I was uncertain if it was okay to joke about that. Though… I suppose, if there was any time to second guess myself, it would be now. Before me, Steppe's maw yawned agape, brown muzzle stretching with the ease of clay to unveil her maw. Molars, polished smooth and white, tongue draping down in a carpet of humid muscle, and giving me a glimpse of the pit behind her uvulva, stretching down her neck. 
	One deep breath. 
	“Back hooves first? Was it?” 
	“Mahahn hanwhn,” she affirmed, mouth agape. I turned around, lowered on the blanket, and peeked back into the threshold of her body. If I backed out now… out of this, intimate, trusting exchange, what would that say about us? I hoisted up my hoof, and slowly aimed it between her lips. 
	“Here I go, ready?” I asked, threading my hoof past the grasp of her maw… -Slpflsht- and resting it on her tongue. Moisture collected in my coat, a tepid slickness which crept up my leg. Though, soon my other hoof joined. Another surge of tepid heat, though the strange sensation stemmed by the equal distribution. 
	-Shrlprths- Her tongue brushed up over my legs, cupping around them -Sllphthths- clasping to my coat like wet rubber. -Cllpths- Her lips shrunk to the oblong outline of my legs, sealing my knees in her mouth. -Ghlloobmpgsh- The swallow tugged all the way through my spine, my hooves cleaving through the darkness of her expanding throat, halted when the tunnel of muscles clasped a firm hold f my hooves, plastering them in latent reservoirs of drool. “Mfmwfrffs…” I huffed out, biting down on my lip. “Mgshou ohkay?” Steppe wondered, “Shoughsl awhrk shwwtohp?” 
	“Pha… ha, I… didn't expect it to… be so comfy…” I mumbled the last under my breath. Again feeling like I was playing by the edge of a cliff with my words. Though, it made her snicker. And this time, I could sense every vibration of her rolling throat, the glee coursing through her tissue in turn palpatated into me, and stirred my chest to throb. 
	-Sfrrhtlstps- Another suckle, an exchange of warmth breaths and moisture between our bodies as she stretched her lips wider, enveloping my knees and chugging onto my hips. My cutie mark was steamrolled in her hot spittle, in the next gulp locking them away as two bulges engorging her neck -Glhrrmpglssk-. 
	I was drawn back across the blanket, the surface of the lukewarm lake that was her body trailing upwards to submerge my body. -Sflpfths- -Oompghts- Each gulp reeled me in deeper, her throat compacting and moulding into a cast of my hooves between each breath, lathering my cheeks in the warmth drool. My wings were pinned by my side as the plush muzzle crawled further, enveloping my frame in a tensile layer of flesh… 
	It, was still scary. Disappearing into the maw of a greater creature, sinking through her throat as the seventh thistle roll. Though… There was this… comfort, a sense of, floating, similar to flying. Her lips crawled up towards my neck, and I reached back to tuck my hooves into her mouth. I brushed them past her teeth, smooth as polished marble, almost soft enamel, sharing her warmth… 
	-Ghrlllpgmogsp- In the next gulp I was lifted off the blanket. My head framed in her maw, engorging her neck bloated with the contorted domes of my compiled frame trailing down the length of her gullet. There was nothing that anchored me to the ground, I was suspended in the air, flying; a free fall, yet, without the need to worry about relying on my wings to keep me soaring. Instead, I placed my trust, my whole body, to Steppe, and… I trusted her. 
	“Haawwwwmmenmm.” her lips draped overhead, my form working down her neck, droplets of saliva trickling from the roof of her maw, down in beads along my mane. -Phaaaa- -Huhaaaaf- Breaths washed over me, rushing along the length of my body from their depths; a salty breeze. In this embrace, I felt, relieved. 
	“Amamfpghgmp, fmmpfsh.” Her lips closed over my muzzle, -Sllpcfhhts- suckling over the tip of my snoot to fold it into the broad bulge my head pronounced in her cheeks, then with an arch of her head… -Ghrllpgugmspgs- -Ooosmgpghs- The swallow hauled me down, my form a ballooned lump trickling down the length of her neck, slimming as her body accepted me, and the droves of my frame sunk inwards, merging with the buffalo, until no traces remained. 
	“Bhuuaaorp.”


~ 2 ~


“Star,” Steppe asked with a prod to her tummy, -Ghrlpglghghss- the squeeze sending a churn rolling through her guts, “are you alright in there? Certain that you have enough room?” 
	It was, dark. A natural dampness clouded the atmosphere, her stomach lining bending and warping to my frame, the folded walls swathed to my coat as a humid, delicate silk. -Thmb- -Thbm- A throb coursed in a space just past my grasp, and the gurgles and sloshes of the stomach formed a soothing chorus -CrhGlptsh- -Vrrlfpfhs- -Bfhrlggsh-. 
	“It is, very roomy in here, actually, and, not as much moss as I had expected.” I could feel the walls indent around her hoof, instinctively resting against it as she scratched and massaged her abdomen.
	Those are far down my second stomach by now, so you certainly will not have to worry about sharing a room with, you got it all to yoruelff.” 
	“Th-that's, good? I think?” I said, already having so many thoughts spinning in my mind. -Chglptghs- Clpsghths- -Thtb-thtbsmb- -Thtum-Thumb- Though the plethora of rhythms and soothing drones of her lissom body dimmed my worries and senses. “Did I… taste good?” 
	I felt her chuckle ripple through the gut, jostling me to and fro, -Sfphths- plastering the reserves of warm lubrication in every nook and crevice of my form, wings matted heavy and dense in the absorbed, viscous smoothness. So, this is what it felt like, to be Steppe's laugh? 
	“You were, mmm, a light meal, touch scrawny and mild for my tastes, which means you tasted great for a pegasus~” 
	“H-hey~,” I called out her playful tease with a chuckle of my own. 
	“What? You wanted honesty, right?” she said; the indent of her hoof back again as her body slumped toward the grounds. -Cslpghthhts- flesh wrapping tighter against my form, bulldozing in under her bulk, wrapping me in a hug. 
	An air of pickled broccoli mellowed by syrup wafted throughout the breathing chamber of brawn. “For all it’s worth, you were delicious, the most delicious passenger I have carried, that's certain.” 
	“A-aaw… And the most precious, I can hear you blushing from out here.” 
	“Wh-what? H-how? I didn't know buffalo's could c-could hear fluster?” 
	“That's because we can't.” 
	“Aah, r-right.” 
	I let out a soft sigh, and bundled up with her, sharing our body-heat under a starlit sky. “Thank you for coming on this trip with me” I mumbled. 
	“Should I not be thanking you? I had, never thought we would do this.” she said, gently bushing her bloated abdomen to the ground, rolling me inside. 
	“Phaaa… I can say the same. So, how Long, do I stay? Until, tomorrow evening?” 
	“Mmm, that is usually how it goes, but,” she patted her chest -Bchrharlsp- and let out a belch scented in boiled thistles and ripe berries, the contractions clenching around my barrel, “I think we'll start easy and, let you out in the morning.” 
	I stirred. “Hmm? How come? Do, you think I can't handle it? I-I promise, I can handle all of you, any part of you.” 
	“Oh it is, it is not that…” 
	“Huh?” 
	“Well,” she began, then coughed, “I, don't know how to fold up your tent.” Then, she felt her tummy erupt in a jostle of chuckles, surging through her frame and coursing down her spine. Steppe snickered as she got to experience some of what Star Hunter's laughter felt like. 
	The couple tucked in, late into the night, resting under the bright gaze of the shawl of generosity constellation. Or, perhaps it was a fishing stag?