Lyra Duskdancer against time’s arrow
Nov 7, 2023 11:41:37 GMT -6
fan2000, gibo, and 5 more like this
Post by HolySin on Nov 7, 2023 11:41:37 GMT -6
A story of a centaur warrior facing against an opponent everyone deals with; TIME. (Created with the help of Serspyguy and APLover)
Within a dark murky swamp, amongst the sounds of croaking toads and buzzing insects the rhythmic sloshing of footsteps through the mud echos. Their pace is quick and despite the soft ground the clear sound of hoove on earth rings out.
Heavy hooves slosh through the mud as a tall, female centaur— her chestnut flank covered in plate armor— races through the swamp. Her shaggy , braided brown hair billows as she speeds along a well worn path. A large claymore is clasped in one strong hand, a dented lantern hangs in the other as she peers through the dark with sharp, green eyes.
Her caution is warranted though pointless as within the swamp's many dark corners, up above in the trees was a mouse. His eyes were a shimmering green, almost glowing even. He stalked the centaur leaping from tree to tree to keep up with her even as she ran through the swap unaware of his presence.
As she makes it to a crossroads amidst a copse of twisted swampy trees the centaur slows to a stop, her muscular legs trotting in place momentarily as she pivots this way and that. Holding the lantern high she searches the dark and tries to find any clue to lead her to her goal, but sadly the swamp is unwilling to offer up its secrets. Her thick, brown tail flicks with annoyance. ”Phaedra’s tits, it's dark out here. How am I supposed to find missing townsfolk in a cesspit like this?”
"That's nothing a woman of your age needs to worry about" Came a voice from within the vast expanse of trees, seemingly coming from every direction.
The centaur warrior spins, bringing her large claymore to bare with ease, muscles barely straining beneath her metal breastplate. ”Who’s there skulking in the dark like some sort of runty goblin or gnoll?” she shouts, brave voice echoing
"Someone who doesn't take kindly to intruders that threaten the serenity of the swamp, although once I'm done with you you won't be much of a threat" Came the voice once more, sounding a bit louder as if it was approaching her
The mercenary smirks confidently, used to this sort of back and forth from foes. ”Hah! Tough talk coming from a shadow! Why don’t you come into the light and we can talk— sword to throat?”
"Oh how you mortals love to cling to your strength of flesh and steel. But you'll find my steel is one that withers instead of cuts" The voice was even closer to the centaur now, but still would not give away its position.
Trying to get her foe to reveal their location through monologue usually worked, but to Lyra’s consternation this enemy’s voice kept bouncing around making even her combat honed hearing have trouble nailing it down. She frowns, hooves circling nervously, waiting for the strike that was sure to come. She lowers the lantern, and quickly straps it to her riding tack to leave her fighting hands free. “My flesh and steel has felled many a foe in my career. And I’ve a feeling it will continue to do so for many years yet!” she shouts, trying to bait her attacker again
Without warning the centaur was struck with an arrow in her flank. "Tell me, have you heard of time's arrow? I hear it is quite the weapon" The voice laughs as the sounds of it's cackles surround her from all sides.
The centaur grits her teeth as she feels the familiar sting of a barbed weapon in her flank. She twists her torso to see the offending arrow was lodged fairly out of reach. She mentally cursed how easy bipeds had it when it came to mending injuries, although she wouldn’t trade that for the strength and stamina her equine half provided. ”Time’s arrow? More like Time’s tiny prick! I’ve had worse stings from a gnat!” she laughs loudly, trying to play off the shallow wound.
Suddenly the fem was hit with 3 more arrows each from a different direction “Ah I do love the arrogance of mortals. But soon you’ll find yourself within the twilight.”
“Blast!” She hisses as each arrow strikes home. Whoever was out there had friends. How else to explain three expert shots from three different spots ”So you HAVE heard of me then, ha!” she grimaces as she yanks an arrow from her bicep ”Lyra DUSKdancer’s name has gotten around! Grr!” She yanks another arrow from her front fetlock. ”And what should I call you, Hm?” she grits her teeth and yanks the final arrow from her lithe lower back. She takes a moment to look at the arrow in her bloody hands
“You may simply call me….The Doctor, and you seem to have misunderstood my saying” A mouse like figure emerged from the darkness wearing a outfit similar to plague doctors of old, he wore a break mask that covered his face “When I said twilight, I meant your twilight years” The cloaked figure stares at the mercenary with his glowing eyes that pierced the dark glass goggles of the mask. He wasn’t normal and Neither was the arrow that had stuck the centaur. It possessed strange glowing symbols that vaguely resembled a clock.
Lyra turns over the strange ammunition in her hand. She’d handled many weapons in her time as an adventurer but she’d never seen anything like this. At least…she THOUGHT she hadn’t. The marking seems awfully fuzzy to her eyes and she had to squint a little to make the etchings out. She looks back up at “The Doctor”. ”You’re some sort of magic caster then? Is this what you did to those travelers on the road? Well you won’t get me THAT easy!” She rears up on her hind legs and charges forward
The Doctor’s unseen muzzle contorted into a grin as he saw the mercenary’s body begin to change, a few gray strands of hair and a few wrinkles “That’s what all you heroic types say” The Doctor responds as he easily dodges her.
The centaur locks her front legs, sliding to a halt, slightly out of breath. ”Huff…Stand still and fight, you glowy eyed freak!”
The Doctor laughs with the same mocking tone as before "Now why would I do that? You chose to trespass and fight me, so I think I'll fight however I please" The Doctor swiftly readied another arrow and fired landing the shot on her
Lyra quickly tries to knock the arrow out of the way with her sword, but is hit with a sudden stiffness in her shoulder — ”Eugh!” - she grunts. CLINK! The arrow wedges itself in her shoulder armor.
"Oh my, it seems I missed, no matter you're still just a sitting duck for me" The Doctor says as he takes in her aging, gray weaving into her scalp, wrinkles deepening and the muscle of her arms losing tone and strength.
The mercenary shifts from hoof to hoof, a scratchy ache beginning to grow in her leg joints where the arrow hit her. Little did she know it was the first bits of arthritis settling into her now older bones. The once lithe young hunter is now slowly looking more and more like a wearier veteran but sadly lacking in the skill such a life would bring.
"Are you feeling alright? You seem a bit tired over there" The Doctor says with some sense of compassion, he normally ended these things quickly but he didn't want to take risks with her. It was much safer to slowly age her from afar rather than get into melee range.
The centaur sticks out her chin proudly-- which only further highlighted the soft jowls starting to droop and as her strong jaw began to soften with sudden onset time. "I'm fit as a fury, Doctor. Perhaps you should worry about your own health!" Which was a total lie. Indeed, she was growing concerned by a creeping stiffness traveling down her spine, and a tiredness that seemed to be encroaching her normally strong limbs. Her breath and heart both were starting to speed up as the years piled on and robbed her body of its conditioning.
"You know, it's unwise to not listen to your doctor when he shows concern for your health" The Doctor says as he taunts her to rush him once more.
Lyra blows a silvery strand of dull brown hair from in front of her tired face, green eyes now framed by deep crows feet as, as her chestnut tail-- now shot through with streaks of gray-- flicks angrily around her slowly sagging rump. "You're the one who shall be needing a doctor soon!" She roars, urging her stiffer body forward
The Doctor once again dodges her with ease, "you might want to watch yourself there, a woman your age shouldn't be participating in such roughhousing" The Doctor continued to mock the half-horse woman.
Lyra tries to swing her sword but - "AGH!" -there's a sharp pain in her elbow as her tendons begin to protest the extra decade or so the spell has added to her sword arm, biceps looking flabbier and saggier by the second . She shudders to a halt, swathes of gray quickly weaving through her tail as her poochier stomach begins to peek out from beneath her armor. The hair on her equine lower half grows more and more faded with each passing second and the once firm stout muscles fade away in kind, looking softer and flabbier all around.
"Ouch, Ma'am you really shouldn't be swinging swords around at your age, it's very dangerous" The Doctor says in a caring tone "How about you drop the sword and come with me?" The Doctor's eyes had a comforting effect to them, drawing the equine woman to meet his gaze.
"Ma'am? How old do you think I am, mouse?" Lyra's nostrils flare and her face crinkles as she glares at her enemy, not sure what he was trying to get at. She wipes some sweat from her brow, shocked at how much this fight was taking out of her. Her sides ached with exertion as her once muscly lower half was now beginning to soften into a solidly middle aged spread, while her legs were getting a bit shaky, the knees swelling and stiffening with every clop of her hooves.
"Oh I meant no offense, you're rather beautiful for a middle-aged woman" The Doctor says with sincerity "I'm only looking out for your well-being."
"Middle aged? Gods are you that blind in that thing?" She motions to the mask with her sword, squinting as she finds the mouse harder and harder to make out so far away.
"I can assure you ma'am I'm of able sight while wearing this" The Doctor says as he slowly approaches "Although it seems you are having trouble with your sight"
Lyra scowls as she continues to squint, thin lips curling and giving the warrior the air of a soured, older aunt. “Whatever you say, but I'm a mere 20 summers, a far cry from a 'middle aged ma'am." She has no idea how ridiculous she sounds with her shaggy silvered hair, paunchy equine belly, and sagging haunches complete with a bushy gray tail that drooped further and further to the swamp floor .
"Are you sure you're not confused ma'am? There's nothing wrong with getting old, it happens to us all" The Doctor said, and as he continued his gaslighting efforts the woman's body began to age once more, judging from it she had to be in her mid 60s now. Her joints felt stiffer than before, not only that she was also having trouble holding her sword in a battle ready stance. her hair had turned a full silvery gray, the wrinkles on her face resembled trenches that were etched deep onto it.
her knees were in danger of buckling as painful arthritis began to seep into every joint. She winced as she stepped forward, her rear legs beginning to limp slightly from “years” of galloping, while her bony back began to stiffen and bend into a stoop. ”I’m not OLD you stupid mouse, that’s what I’m trying to tell you!” she growls, her voice growing husky with age as her neck wrinkles and sags, and her jowls swaying heavily.
"It's okay ma'am women your age tend to have memory problems, perhaps a mirror will help you remember your real age" The Doctor says as he snaps his fingers and conjures a mirror in front of Lyra "Do you see yourself ma'am?"
The centaur pulls back in shock as her jaw drops. Staring back at her is a withered, gray nag. She touches her face with thin, shaking fingers, recoiling at the thin and wrinkled skin. She pulls at her dry, silver hair, not a hint of chestnut left. ”This…this is a trick!” her once strong voice quavers in fear as she looks over to the sword in her hand and drops it in fright at its state. It clatters to the ground, cracked, and rusted as though it had been left out in the rain for 40 winters.
The Doctor quickly rushes over to comfort the old woman "No ma'am this is what you've always looked like, just take deep breaths and try to calm down" The Doctor takes her old hands into his gloved ones while running a hand over her armor, causing it to rust and decay just as her sword had.
Lyra shakes her gray head, streaks of white appearing as she tries to pull away, the years piling on her already withered shoulders. ”N-n-no! This is sorcery! You— you did this to me! To my body!” she gasps, voice rattling
“Ma’am what’re you talking about? I’ve been helping you navigate the swamps here. Your memory is rather terrible” The Doctor says not letting her pull away “Just relax, and let me care for you”
Lyra’s rear legs buckle as another decade is lost, bony hips giving up any hope of ever galloping again, her thin fur turning more and more gray to match her hair and tail. ”Nooooo…” she moans as her gnarled hands curl up with arthritis and her hearing grows dimmer, swollen knees shaking as she struggles to stay upright
“It’s alright Ms. Lyra, I’ll take you back to the cabin and you can rest your old bones by the fire” The Doctor says as he puts his hand on her crooked back and begins rubbing it, hoping to soothe her aches even as his magic continued to suck the life out of her.
The formerly tall, proud centauress continues to wither with years, her muscular arms now stick thin beneath rusty, dented armor that appeared too big on her shriveling form. Her green eyes, once sharp and cunning, grow cloudy with cataracts as she rubs them with shaky hands ”Old bones…” she mutters weakly ”But I’m young and strong. I’m Lyra Duskdancer…”
“Yes you are Ms. Lyra, but your adventuring days are long past you. Now it’s time for you to rest and relax” The Doctor said as he continues to rub her back
The feeble old mercenary was about to disagree when she felt a strange sensation in her nethers. A warmth that trickled slowly down her shaky hind quarters. Her gray eyebrows shot up with confusion, forehead wrinkling in concern as she creakily tried turning her upper body to see what was happening back there ”Oof. What…what’s going on?” she mumbled as she cranes her saggy neck back and forth to see over her withered gray rump
"Oh my it seems you have wetted yourself Ms. Lyra, we should hurry back to the cabin so I can give you some more appropriate clothing" The Doctor says as he begins to lead Lyra by her hand
Lyra’s puffy old cheeks warm with shame. She WET herself? Like some meek little foal? In moments, she smells the familiar, musty scent of her own urine. She holds a gnarled hand to her mouth. Embarrassed. ”I—I’m sorry. That’s never happened to me before….” She shakes her shaggy head, braids now brittle and white as snow.
"It's alright Ms. Lyra, women your age have these issues" The Doctor says as he gently rubs her arthritic hand in a comforting motion "We're almost at the cabin. Once we're inside I can get you a fresh change of clothes and we can sit by the fire"
The cocky chestnut mare that had galloped wildly only moments ago was now a confused and thin gray nag, her stiff old bones clicking loudly as they shifted beneath her threadbare fur with every clip and clop of her cracked hooves, all while her thin white tail dragged sadly through the mud behind her
The Doctor and Lyra had arrived at the cabin, and as he turned around he witnessed her aging once more. Her equine half becoming almost emaciated in appearance. He saw her hair turn a snow white, and was somewhat surprised to see her teeth falling out of her mouth. Leaving her a toothless old woman in need of dentures
Lyra shivered as she felt the last bit of her youth leave her body. She looks down into her weathered hands, gnarled and swollen with arthritis, and squints long and hard at the wet, white shapes rolling in her wrinkled palms. Her pruny lips immediately retreat inward over her gums and she slowly licks at them absent mindedly. ”Mah teef…” she whispers tiredly, no fight left in her anymore at this last humiliation
“It seems you forgot your dentures Ms. Lyra, not to worry I’ll retrieve them for you once we’re inside” The Doctor says as he aids Lyra up the steps and into the cabin
The senior centaur’s hooves wobble uncertainly, the stairs giving her more trouble than she was used to— cursed old knees! The weary old fighter grips the mouse’s hand tighter as her balance wavers, her bony haunches shivering from the exertion. She slowly blinks her tired eyes, things moving so much slower in her older mind. ”I feel so…run down. My hooves…my arms…so…heavy. Why was I running?” she mutters toothlessly, trying to make sense of it all
“Something must have startled you, so I had to run after you” The Doctor says as he finally gets her up the steps and into the cabin
Lyra nods, having trouble remembering anything different as the fog of the swamp seemed to fill her own doddery mind. ”We centaurs….can sometimes spook easy…” she croaks weakly
The Doctor rubs her hands gently in a comforting manner “That’s quite alright Ms. Lyra, Here why don’t you go lay by the fire while I go grab you some fresh clothes and your dentures” The Doctor says as he slowly leads her to the fire place and leaves to fetch the items
The old centaur looks around the room, taking in the space. Her wrinkly chin trembles as she wracks her mind for clues. She had no memory of the place, but perhaps the strange young mouse was right and she was simply getting too old to recall such things. ”Hmph. You’re getting too gray in the tail to be traipsing around like a willy filly, Lyra Duskdancer…” she mutters to herself. She begins to lower herself to the ground, all four legs creaking and popping with protest. ”Blasted old bones. Keep quiet you!” she tuts disdainfully as she finally drops to the floor with a satisfied grunt
The Doctor soon returns with fresh clothes, an adult diaper, and dentures “Here we are Ms. Lyra, are you okay with me helping you change into these?” The Doctor says holding up the clothing and diaper
The Doctor had removed his mask and most of the outfit before returning, now in more plain attire. Which gave the old woman a view of his face for the first time. He had green eyes that sparkled like emeralds, black hair as dark as night, along with fur that was white as snow
Lyra taps an ear with a thin finger, a few stray, fluffy gray hairs poking out of it . ”Speak up, young one!” she rasps loudly ”Had one too many magic missiles whizz too close back in my mercenary days!” the white haired old horse woman chortles to herself, forgetting that those mercenary days were only mere minutes ago
“I SAID DO YOU WANT ME TO HELP YOU PUT THESE ON!” The Doctor yelled, once again holding up the items
Lyra isn’t paying attention, now fiddling with her rusty breastplate ”Haven’t seen this old thing for years. What’s it doing on an old gray tail like me? I retired from adventuring moons ago!” she shakes her head, her stiff, white hair rustling against her crooked back. ”Must have been reliving the glory days again. You know I was QUITE tough back then? Oof. Makes me sore just thinking about it…”
“Would you like for me to help you remove it?” The Doctor says as he rested a hand on her bony shoulder, his hand was warm and comforting
Her arthritic hands shake as she tries to undo the straps "If you don't mind, young mister. These doddery old fingers of mine have seen too much action. Not much good for anything more than spilling porridge these days it seems." she rubs her swollen knuckles with a wince. "Phaedra's tits!" she hisses through her pruny lips "I feel like a godsdammed old nag today." She snorts, frustrated at her withered old horse body
The Doctor helps the old horse woman, undoing the straps and lifting the rusty armor off of her withered body “Is that better Ms. Lyra? Maybe now we can get your dentures in and this diaper on you, don’t want you having any accidents on the floor now” The Doctor says as he sets the old armor down
The old centaur sighs with relief-- a noise akin to a husky whinny at her age-- her sagging, empty breasts slowly sliding down either side of her wrinkled belly now that the "antique" armor had been removed. "Hells that's SO much better! Thank you, young one." She reaches her arms out stiffly-- bingo wings flopping downwards where biceps used to be-- her back cracking in several places "Oof. Yes. That's the ticket..." licking her lips she nods "Lets get those chompers back in, Mr. Doctor..."
The Doctor hands the old woman her dentures “Here you are, Ms. Lyra. Now are you ready to put on the diaper and clothes?”
Lyra opens her mouth, revealing her fleshy pink gums. She slips the carved teeth between her pruny lips and practices a few slow bites, the false teeth sliding into place. Some firmness returns to her chin now that the false teeth were in place, her wrinkly jowls quivering as she smiled at the mouse. ”Nice to be able to offer you a smile again, young mouse. Consider it repayment from a grizzled old troublemaker. It’s the least I can do considering all you’re putting up with thanks to my twilight years.”
“Why you’re very welcome Ms. Lyra, and please call me Damien” The Doctor who’s name is now revealed says as he holds her hands and then pulls her into a warm comforting hug “Now let’s get this diaper on you” Damien says as he releases the embrace
The reclining centaur huffs, blowing a thin strand of white hair ”Swaddled like some sort of baby foal, eh? Hmph. Not exactly the most dignified look for a village elder is it?” In her mind, Lyra was no longer a tough talking, ale swilling sellsword. She’d settled down and retired in a nearby village decades ago and became the town’s wrinkliest old granny, full of rambling stories and questionable wisdom from years of questing. Sadly though the insights she had to offer were limited. She never seemed to have as much worldly experience as the other village elders and all too often felt out of place with them, the advice she offered to the youngsters often wrong or short sighted. Thankfully this doctor was willing to take care of a confused old nag like her.
"Well, a village elder wouldn't look very dignified wetting themselves for all to see now would they?" Damien replied giving the old centaur a playful tap on her nose "Besides once I get you into this and your clothes we can both rest by the fire, wouldn't you like that? Damien gives her a warm smile
Lyra stifles a yawn and attempts to raise her faded hindquarters with a grunt. ”All right, all right, just get it over with. These old hooves aren’t as young as they used to be, you know…”
Damien moves to get the diaper on her and gets a view of Lyra’s loose drooping pussy as he does. Age has robbed it of any fertility or tightness and the only wetness it would ever be feeling was that caused by a bout of elderly incontinence. Smiling at the thought of how her flower had withered Damien slips on the diaper making sure it’s snug on her thin frail hips, in the process squeezing her old rump quite a bit “Alright now just let me get this sweater on you” Damien helps her raised her arms up and slides the sweater on to her frail body, he also hurried up and grabbed a shawl and blanket. Putting the Shawl on her lower horse body “Are you comfy Ms. Lyra?”
The withered, white haired old nag gave the young mouse a playful nudge with her bony elbow ”My old ears may be shot and these green peepers might be duller, but I still know when a fresh young mouse is trying to get his hands on my derrière!” she gives him a slow wink with a rheumy old eye and does her best to wiggle her rickety horse half, but winces as her hip POPs ”Oof! Gods those old arrow wounds still smart! Can’t even remember where I got them any more…”
“Well I’m sure that archer is long gone by now, and I’m sorry Ms. Lyra, it’s just I couldn’t help it when I’m looking at such a beautiful woman” Damien said a sincere tone as he laid against her side, throwing the large blanket over the both of them “I sure hope a veteran like yourself could teach a young mouse like me some tricks in bed” Damien said seductively in her ear, making sure he was loud enough for her to hear
”Heh! you young bucks are all the same, chomping at the bit!” Lyra chuckles dryly, then raises a gray eyebrow quizzically, stroking her weathered chin. ”I swear, sometimes it feels like yesterday I was back out there galloping over hills and swinging my blade…” she gets a faraway look in her eyes and rubs her stiff, calloused hands. Her wiry white tail flicks nervously beneath the blanket as she draws the shawl close. ”Just… like… yesterday…” she mumbles, staring longingly into her own warped memories
“Reminiscing about the past isn’t good y’know” Damien says as he wraps an arm around her human half “It’s better to focus on the now, after all you didn’t have a young mouse to look after you and care for your every need back then did you?”
”Zzzzzzzz” a surprisingly gentle snore emerges from the cozy old centaur. Her snowy white head—light and pillowy to the touch— settles on Damien’s shoulder, a little drool pooling at the corner of her pruny old lips as she exhales a rattling, husky sigh. Her old bones settle— popping here and there— as she sags inward, her newly acquired years tuckering the old girl right out.
“Sleep well Lyra Duskdancer” Damien says as he too decides to sleep, enjoying the old centaur’s warmth underneath the blankets
[END]
Within a dark murky swamp, amongst the sounds of croaking toads and buzzing insects the rhythmic sloshing of footsteps through the mud echos. Their pace is quick and despite the soft ground the clear sound of hoove on earth rings out.
Heavy hooves slosh through the mud as a tall, female centaur— her chestnut flank covered in plate armor— races through the swamp. Her shaggy , braided brown hair billows as she speeds along a well worn path. A large claymore is clasped in one strong hand, a dented lantern hangs in the other as she peers through the dark with sharp, green eyes.
Her caution is warranted though pointless as within the swamp's many dark corners, up above in the trees was a mouse. His eyes were a shimmering green, almost glowing even. He stalked the centaur leaping from tree to tree to keep up with her even as she ran through the swap unaware of his presence.
As she makes it to a crossroads amidst a copse of twisted swampy trees the centaur slows to a stop, her muscular legs trotting in place momentarily as she pivots this way and that. Holding the lantern high she searches the dark and tries to find any clue to lead her to her goal, but sadly the swamp is unwilling to offer up its secrets. Her thick, brown tail flicks with annoyance. ”Phaedra’s tits, it's dark out here. How am I supposed to find missing townsfolk in a cesspit like this?”
"That's nothing a woman of your age needs to worry about" Came a voice from within the vast expanse of trees, seemingly coming from every direction.
The centaur warrior spins, bringing her large claymore to bare with ease, muscles barely straining beneath her metal breastplate. ”Who’s there skulking in the dark like some sort of runty goblin or gnoll?” she shouts, brave voice echoing
"Someone who doesn't take kindly to intruders that threaten the serenity of the swamp, although once I'm done with you you won't be much of a threat" Came the voice once more, sounding a bit louder as if it was approaching her
The mercenary smirks confidently, used to this sort of back and forth from foes. ”Hah! Tough talk coming from a shadow! Why don’t you come into the light and we can talk— sword to throat?”
"Oh how you mortals love to cling to your strength of flesh and steel. But you'll find my steel is one that withers instead of cuts" The voice was even closer to the centaur now, but still would not give away its position.
Trying to get her foe to reveal their location through monologue usually worked, but to Lyra’s consternation this enemy’s voice kept bouncing around making even her combat honed hearing have trouble nailing it down. She frowns, hooves circling nervously, waiting for the strike that was sure to come. She lowers the lantern, and quickly straps it to her riding tack to leave her fighting hands free. “My flesh and steel has felled many a foe in my career. And I’ve a feeling it will continue to do so for many years yet!” she shouts, trying to bait her attacker again
Without warning the centaur was struck with an arrow in her flank. "Tell me, have you heard of time's arrow? I hear it is quite the weapon" The voice laughs as the sounds of it's cackles surround her from all sides.
The centaur grits her teeth as she feels the familiar sting of a barbed weapon in her flank. She twists her torso to see the offending arrow was lodged fairly out of reach. She mentally cursed how easy bipeds had it when it came to mending injuries, although she wouldn’t trade that for the strength and stamina her equine half provided. ”Time’s arrow? More like Time’s tiny prick! I’ve had worse stings from a gnat!” she laughs loudly, trying to play off the shallow wound.
Suddenly the fem was hit with 3 more arrows each from a different direction “Ah I do love the arrogance of mortals. But soon you’ll find yourself within the twilight.”
“Blast!” She hisses as each arrow strikes home. Whoever was out there had friends. How else to explain three expert shots from three different spots ”So you HAVE heard of me then, ha!” she grimaces as she yanks an arrow from her bicep ”Lyra DUSKdancer’s name has gotten around! Grr!” She yanks another arrow from her front fetlock. ”And what should I call you, Hm?” she grits her teeth and yanks the final arrow from her lithe lower back. She takes a moment to look at the arrow in her bloody hands
“You may simply call me….The Doctor, and you seem to have misunderstood my saying” A mouse like figure emerged from the darkness wearing a outfit similar to plague doctors of old, he wore a break mask that covered his face “When I said twilight, I meant your twilight years” The cloaked figure stares at the mercenary with his glowing eyes that pierced the dark glass goggles of the mask. He wasn’t normal and Neither was the arrow that had stuck the centaur. It possessed strange glowing symbols that vaguely resembled a clock.
Lyra turns over the strange ammunition in her hand. She’d handled many weapons in her time as an adventurer but she’d never seen anything like this. At least…she THOUGHT she hadn’t. The marking seems awfully fuzzy to her eyes and she had to squint a little to make the etchings out. She looks back up at “The Doctor”. ”You’re some sort of magic caster then? Is this what you did to those travelers on the road? Well you won’t get me THAT easy!” She rears up on her hind legs and charges forward
The Doctor’s unseen muzzle contorted into a grin as he saw the mercenary’s body begin to change, a few gray strands of hair and a few wrinkles “That’s what all you heroic types say” The Doctor responds as he easily dodges her.
The centaur locks her front legs, sliding to a halt, slightly out of breath. ”Huff…Stand still and fight, you glowy eyed freak!”
The Doctor laughs with the same mocking tone as before "Now why would I do that? You chose to trespass and fight me, so I think I'll fight however I please" The Doctor swiftly readied another arrow and fired landing the shot on her
Lyra quickly tries to knock the arrow out of the way with her sword, but is hit with a sudden stiffness in her shoulder — ”Eugh!” - she grunts. CLINK! The arrow wedges itself in her shoulder armor.
"Oh my, it seems I missed, no matter you're still just a sitting duck for me" The Doctor says as he takes in her aging, gray weaving into her scalp, wrinkles deepening and the muscle of her arms losing tone and strength.
The mercenary shifts from hoof to hoof, a scratchy ache beginning to grow in her leg joints where the arrow hit her. Little did she know it was the first bits of arthritis settling into her now older bones. The once lithe young hunter is now slowly looking more and more like a wearier veteran but sadly lacking in the skill such a life would bring.
"Are you feeling alright? You seem a bit tired over there" The Doctor says with some sense of compassion, he normally ended these things quickly but he didn't want to take risks with her. It was much safer to slowly age her from afar rather than get into melee range.
The centaur sticks out her chin proudly-- which only further highlighted the soft jowls starting to droop and as her strong jaw began to soften with sudden onset time. "I'm fit as a fury, Doctor. Perhaps you should worry about your own health!" Which was a total lie. Indeed, she was growing concerned by a creeping stiffness traveling down her spine, and a tiredness that seemed to be encroaching her normally strong limbs. Her breath and heart both were starting to speed up as the years piled on and robbed her body of its conditioning.
"You know, it's unwise to not listen to your doctor when he shows concern for your health" The Doctor says as he taunts her to rush him once more.
Lyra blows a silvery strand of dull brown hair from in front of her tired face, green eyes now framed by deep crows feet as, as her chestnut tail-- now shot through with streaks of gray-- flicks angrily around her slowly sagging rump. "You're the one who shall be needing a doctor soon!" She roars, urging her stiffer body forward
The Doctor once again dodges her with ease, "you might want to watch yourself there, a woman your age shouldn't be participating in such roughhousing" The Doctor continued to mock the half-horse woman.
Lyra tries to swing her sword but - "AGH!" -there's a sharp pain in her elbow as her tendons begin to protest the extra decade or so the spell has added to her sword arm, biceps looking flabbier and saggier by the second . She shudders to a halt, swathes of gray quickly weaving through her tail as her poochier stomach begins to peek out from beneath her armor. The hair on her equine lower half grows more and more faded with each passing second and the once firm stout muscles fade away in kind, looking softer and flabbier all around.
"Ouch, Ma'am you really shouldn't be swinging swords around at your age, it's very dangerous" The Doctor says in a caring tone "How about you drop the sword and come with me?" The Doctor's eyes had a comforting effect to them, drawing the equine woman to meet his gaze.
"Ma'am? How old do you think I am, mouse?" Lyra's nostrils flare and her face crinkles as she glares at her enemy, not sure what he was trying to get at. She wipes some sweat from her brow, shocked at how much this fight was taking out of her. Her sides ached with exertion as her once muscly lower half was now beginning to soften into a solidly middle aged spread, while her legs were getting a bit shaky, the knees swelling and stiffening with every clop of her hooves.
"Oh I meant no offense, you're rather beautiful for a middle-aged woman" The Doctor says with sincerity "I'm only looking out for your well-being."
"Middle aged? Gods are you that blind in that thing?" She motions to the mask with her sword, squinting as she finds the mouse harder and harder to make out so far away.
"I can assure you ma'am I'm of able sight while wearing this" The Doctor says as he slowly approaches "Although it seems you are having trouble with your sight"
Lyra scowls as she continues to squint, thin lips curling and giving the warrior the air of a soured, older aunt. “Whatever you say, but I'm a mere 20 summers, a far cry from a 'middle aged ma'am." She has no idea how ridiculous she sounds with her shaggy silvered hair, paunchy equine belly, and sagging haunches complete with a bushy gray tail that drooped further and further to the swamp floor .
"Are you sure you're not confused ma'am? There's nothing wrong with getting old, it happens to us all" The Doctor said, and as he continued his gaslighting efforts the woman's body began to age once more, judging from it she had to be in her mid 60s now. Her joints felt stiffer than before, not only that she was also having trouble holding her sword in a battle ready stance. her hair had turned a full silvery gray, the wrinkles on her face resembled trenches that were etched deep onto it.
her knees were in danger of buckling as painful arthritis began to seep into every joint. She winced as she stepped forward, her rear legs beginning to limp slightly from “years” of galloping, while her bony back began to stiffen and bend into a stoop. ”I’m not OLD you stupid mouse, that’s what I’m trying to tell you!” she growls, her voice growing husky with age as her neck wrinkles and sags, and her jowls swaying heavily.
"It's okay ma'am women your age tend to have memory problems, perhaps a mirror will help you remember your real age" The Doctor says as he snaps his fingers and conjures a mirror in front of Lyra "Do you see yourself ma'am?"
The centaur pulls back in shock as her jaw drops. Staring back at her is a withered, gray nag. She touches her face with thin, shaking fingers, recoiling at the thin and wrinkled skin. She pulls at her dry, silver hair, not a hint of chestnut left. ”This…this is a trick!” her once strong voice quavers in fear as she looks over to the sword in her hand and drops it in fright at its state. It clatters to the ground, cracked, and rusted as though it had been left out in the rain for 40 winters.
The Doctor quickly rushes over to comfort the old woman "No ma'am this is what you've always looked like, just take deep breaths and try to calm down" The Doctor takes her old hands into his gloved ones while running a hand over her armor, causing it to rust and decay just as her sword had.
Lyra shakes her gray head, streaks of white appearing as she tries to pull away, the years piling on her already withered shoulders. ”N-n-no! This is sorcery! You— you did this to me! To my body!” she gasps, voice rattling
“Ma’am what’re you talking about? I’ve been helping you navigate the swamps here. Your memory is rather terrible” The Doctor says not letting her pull away “Just relax, and let me care for you”
Lyra’s rear legs buckle as another decade is lost, bony hips giving up any hope of ever galloping again, her thin fur turning more and more gray to match her hair and tail. ”Nooooo…” she moans as her gnarled hands curl up with arthritis and her hearing grows dimmer, swollen knees shaking as she struggles to stay upright
“It’s alright Ms. Lyra, I’ll take you back to the cabin and you can rest your old bones by the fire” The Doctor says as he puts his hand on her crooked back and begins rubbing it, hoping to soothe her aches even as his magic continued to suck the life out of her.
The formerly tall, proud centauress continues to wither with years, her muscular arms now stick thin beneath rusty, dented armor that appeared too big on her shriveling form. Her green eyes, once sharp and cunning, grow cloudy with cataracts as she rubs them with shaky hands ”Old bones…” she mutters weakly ”But I’m young and strong. I’m Lyra Duskdancer…”
“Yes you are Ms. Lyra, but your adventuring days are long past you. Now it’s time for you to rest and relax” The Doctor said as he continues to rub her back
The feeble old mercenary was about to disagree when she felt a strange sensation in her nethers. A warmth that trickled slowly down her shaky hind quarters. Her gray eyebrows shot up with confusion, forehead wrinkling in concern as she creakily tried turning her upper body to see what was happening back there ”Oof. What…what’s going on?” she mumbled as she cranes her saggy neck back and forth to see over her withered gray rump
"Oh my it seems you have wetted yourself Ms. Lyra, we should hurry back to the cabin so I can give you some more appropriate clothing" The Doctor says as he begins to lead Lyra by her hand
Lyra’s puffy old cheeks warm with shame. She WET herself? Like some meek little foal? In moments, she smells the familiar, musty scent of her own urine. She holds a gnarled hand to her mouth. Embarrassed. ”I—I’m sorry. That’s never happened to me before….” She shakes her shaggy head, braids now brittle and white as snow.
"It's alright Ms. Lyra, women your age have these issues" The Doctor says as he gently rubs her arthritic hand in a comforting motion "We're almost at the cabin. Once we're inside I can get you a fresh change of clothes and we can sit by the fire"
The cocky chestnut mare that had galloped wildly only moments ago was now a confused and thin gray nag, her stiff old bones clicking loudly as they shifted beneath her threadbare fur with every clip and clop of her cracked hooves, all while her thin white tail dragged sadly through the mud behind her
The Doctor and Lyra had arrived at the cabin, and as he turned around he witnessed her aging once more. Her equine half becoming almost emaciated in appearance. He saw her hair turn a snow white, and was somewhat surprised to see her teeth falling out of her mouth. Leaving her a toothless old woman in need of dentures
Lyra shivered as she felt the last bit of her youth leave her body. She looks down into her weathered hands, gnarled and swollen with arthritis, and squints long and hard at the wet, white shapes rolling in her wrinkled palms. Her pruny lips immediately retreat inward over her gums and she slowly licks at them absent mindedly. ”Mah teef…” she whispers tiredly, no fight left in her anymore at this last humiliation
“It seems you forgot your dentures Ms. Lyra, not to worry I’ll retrieve them for you once we’re inside” The Doctor says as he aids Lyra up the steps and into the cabin
The senior centaur’s hooves wobble uncertainly, the stairs giving her more trouble than she was used to— cursed old knees! The weary old fighter grips the mouse’s hand tighter as her balance wavers, her bony haunches shivering from the exertion. She slowly blinks her tired eyes, things moving so much slower in her older mind. ”I feel so…run down. My hooves…my arms…so…heavy. Why was I running?” she mutters toothlessly, trying to make sense of it all
“Something must have startled you, so I had to run after you” The Doctor says as he finally gets her up the steps and into the cabin
Lyra nods, having trouble remembering anything different as the fog of the swamp seemed to fill her own doddery mind. ”We centaurs….can sometimes spook easy…” she croaks weakly
The Doctor rubs her hands gently in a comforting manner “That’s quite alright Ms. Lyra, Here why don’t you go lay by the fire while I go grab you some fresh clothes and your dentures” The Doctor says as he slowly leads her to the fire place and leaves to fetch the items
The old centaur looks around the room, taking in the space. Her wrinkly chin trembles as she wracks her mind for clues. She had no memory of the place, but perhaps the strange young mouse was right and she was simply getting too old to recall such things. ”Hmph. You’re getting too gray in the tail to be traipsing around like a willy filly, Lyra Duskdancer…” she mutters to herself. She begins to lower herself to the ground, all four legs creaking and popping with protest. ”Blasted old bones. Keep quiet you!” she tuts disdainfully as she finally drops to the floor with a satisfied grunt
The Doctor soon returns with fresh clothes, an adult diaper, and dentures “Here we are Ms. Lyra, are you okay with me helping you change into these?” The Doctor says holding up the clothing and diaper
The Doctor had removed his mask and most of the outfit before returning, now in more plain attire. Which gave the old woman a view of his face for the first time. He had green eyes that sparkled like emeralds, black hair as dark as night, along with fur that was white as snow
Lyra taps an ear with a thin finger, a few stray, fluffy gray hairs poking out of it . ”Speak up, young one!” she rasps loudly ”Had one too many magic missiles whizz too close back in my mercenary days!” the white haired old horse woman chortles to herself, forgetting that those mercenary days were only mere minutes ago
“I SAID DO YOU WANT ME TO HELP YOU PUT THESE ON!” The Doctor yelled, once again holding up the items
Lyra isn’t paying attention, now fiddling with her rusty breastplate ”Haven’t seen this old thing for years. What’s it doing on an old gray tail like me? I retired from adventuring moons ago!” she shakes her head, her stiff, white hair rustling against her crooked back. ”Must have been reliving the glory days again. You know I was QUITE tough back then? Oof. Makes me sore just thinking about it…”
“Would you like for me to help you remove it?” The Doctor says as he rested a hand on her bony shoulder, his hand was warm and comforting
Her arthritic hands shake as she tries to undo the straps "If you don't mind, young mister. These doddery old fingers of mine have seen too much action. Not much good for anything more than spilling porridge these days it seems." she rubs her swollen knuckles with a wince. "Phaedra's tits!" she hisses through her pruny lips "I feel like a godsdammed old nag today." She snorts, frustrated at her withered old horse body
The Doctor helps the old horse woman, undoing the straps and lifting the rusty armor off of her withered body “Is that better Ms. Lyra? Maybe now we can get your dentures in and this diaper on you, don’t want you having any accidents on the floor now” The Doctor says as he sets the old armor down
The old centaur sighs with relief-- a noise akin to a husky whinny at her age-- her sagging, empty breasts slowly sliding down either side of her wrinkled belly now that the "antique" armor had been removed. "Hells that's SO much better! Thank you, young one." She reaches her arms out stiffly-- bingo wings flopping downwards where biceps used to be-- her back cracking in several places "Oof. Yes. That's the ticket..." licking her lips she nods "Lets get those chompers back in, Mr. Doctor..."
The Doctor hands the old woman her dentures “Here you are, Ms. Lyra. Now are you ready to put on the diaper and clothes?”
Lyra opens her mouth, revealing her fleshy pink gums. She slips the carved teeth between her pruny lips and practices a few slow bites, the false teeth sliding into place. Some firmness returns to her chin now that the false teeth were in place, her wrinkly jowls quivering as she smiled at the mouse. ”Nice to be able to offer you a smile again, young mouse. Consider it repayment from a grizzled old troublemaker. It’s the least I can do considering all you’re putting up with thanks to my twilight years.”
“Why you’re very welcome Ms. Lyra, and please call me Damien” The Doctor who’s name is now revealed says as he holds her hands and then pulls her into a warm comforting hug “Now let’s get this diaper on you” Damien says as he releases the embrace
The reclining centaur huffs, blowing a thin strand of white hair ”Swaddled like some sort of baby foal, eh? Hmph. Not exactly the most dignified look for a village elder is it?” In her mind, Lyra was no longer a tough talking, ale swilling sellsword. She’d settled down and retired in a nearby village decades ago and became the town’s wrinkliest old granny, full of rambling stories and questionable wisdom from years of questing. Sadly though the insights she had to offer were limited. She never seemed to have as much worldly experience as the other village elders and all too often felt out of place with them, the advice she offered to the youngsters often wrong or short sighted. Thankfully this doctor was willing to take care of a confused old nag like her.
"Well, a village elder wouldn't look very dignified wetting themselves for all to see now would they?" Damien replied giving the old centaur a playful tap on her nose "Besides once I get you into this and your clothes we can both rest by the fire, wouldn't you like that? Damien gives her a warm smile
Lyra stifles a yawn and attempts to raise her faded hindquarters with a grunt. ”All right, all right, just get it over with. These old hooves aren’t as young as they used to be, you know…”
Damien moves to get the diaper on her and gets a view of Lyra’s loose drooping pussy as he does. Age has robbed it of any fertility or tightness and the only wetness it would ever be feeling was that caused by a bout of elderly incontinence. Smiling at the thought of how her flower had withered Damien slips on the diaper making sure it’s snug on her thin frail hips, in the process squeezing her old rump quite a bit “Alright now just let me get this sweater on you” Damien helps her raised her arms up and slides the sweater on to her frail body, he also hurried up and grabbed a shawl and blanket. Putting the Shawl on her lower horse body “Are you comfy Ms. Lyra?”
The withered, white haired old nag gave the young mouse a playful nudge with her bony elbow ”My old ears may be shot and these green peepers might be duller, but I still know when a fresh young mouse is trying to get his hands on my derrière!” she gives him a slow wink with a rheumy old eye and does her best to wiggle her rickety horse half, but winces as her hip POPs ”Oof! Gods those old arrow wounds still smart! Can’t even remember where I got them any more…”
“Well I’m sure that archer is long gone by now, and I’m sorry Ms. Lyra, it’s just I couldn’t help it when I’m looking at such a beautiful woman” Damien said a sincere tone as he laid against her side, throwing the large blanket over the both of them “I sure hope a veteran like yourself could teach a young mouse like me some tricks in bed” Damien said seductively in her ear, making sure he was loud enough for her to hear
”Heh! you young bucks are all the same, chomping at the bit!” Lyra chuckles dryly, then raises a gray eyebrow quizzically, stroking her weathered chin. ”I swear, sometimes it feels like yesterday I was back out there galloping over hills and swinging my blade…” she gets a faraway look in her eyes and rubs her stiff, calloused hands. Her wiry white tail flicks nervously beneath the blanket as she draws the shawl close. ”Just… like… yesterday…” she mumbles, staring longingly into her own warped memories
“Reminiscing about the past isn’t good y’know” Damien says as he wraps an arm around her human half “It’s better to focus on the now, after all you didn’t have a young mouse to look after you and care for your every need back then did you?”
”Zzzzzzzz” a surprisingly gentle snore emerges from the cozy old centaur. Her snowy white head—light and pillowy to the touch— settles on Damien’s shoulder, a little drool pooling at the corner of her pruny old lips as she exhales a rattling, husky sigh. Her old bones settle— popping here and there— as she sags inward, her newly acquired years tuckering the old girl right out.
“Sleep well Lyra Duskdancer” Damien says as he too decides to sleep, enjoying the old centaur’s warmth underneath the blankets
[END]