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The night passed with ease; the white noise of the omenflies was uninterrupted by the cacophony of nature outside the Nargacuga's cave. Crow slept soundly under the Wyvern's protection. When he finally woke from his slumber, he was surrounded by more comforting heat than any hearth in Selinea. Dense fur and smooth scales pinned him to the pelts below. The Cuga maintained a hold over Crow, pinning the human beneath the bulk of their arm.

Crow worked his arms from underneath the weight of a log-width limb, freeing himself for a much-needed stretch. Beneath the human's resting head, a massive black paw flexed in response to the stirring.

A throaty rumble precluded a curious beak craned above Crow's head, bright yellow eyes focused their narrow slits on his tiny form. Crow's eyes found themselves trapped within their brilliance. Fierce, powerful, affectionate.

“Oh, this all really happened, huh?" Crow expected to wake up alone or in the medical ward recovering from the effects of some hallucinogenic mishap. It'd make more logical sense than what loomed above him. The Swift Wyvern, Nargacuga, cradling Crow in their cave nest like a cub.

A soft snarl reverberated in Crow's chest, rousing his body of its lethargy. “Good morning to you, too." His groggy greeting spurned the Nargacuga to rub their beak through Crow's hair.

The affection intensified with each passing second. The rumbles and snarls flowed over Crow like a waterfall, overwhelming him, caressing him, and inviting him further into a headspace of comfort beneath the power of the Nargacuga. Another throaty vocalization precluded a heavy, broad tongue pressing its weight to his chest, flattening against his armor and leaving a thin saliva coating.

Unable to retreat, the Nargacuga pressed their advantage against the vulnerable Hunter. Wet trails soaked through the gaps of his armor. Crow's withstood the tender assault. Smooth keratin nudged him from different angles, pressed against his cheeks, nudging at his sides, ruffling through his hair. No surface was left untested. Each action hammered in by intensifying rumbling that devolved into the occasional spine-shuddering snarl.

Even at their most gentle, the Nargacuga was still an indomitable force of nature. Surrounding Crow, tasting him, adoring him. Weakened by his morning grogginess, a subconscious moan escaped him, swept away by an attentive swipe of the Nargacuga's broad flesh.

The moan gave the Nargacuga pause. The great wyvern pulled back, regarding Crow with piercing yellow eyes. The way they bore down upon him with their lower jaw vibrating out a hungry growl. Crow knew what it was like to be an unfortunate Kelbi and felt the same rush of flight or fight adrenaline, even though neither option was viable.

The tongue came back, swiping vigorously; the Cuga ruffled him with breaths that suggested that a more lustful hunger was being sated. Crow did his best to defend himself, protecting his eyes and keeping his mouth closed from probing tongue. With the Nargacuga's lustful hunger, Crow felt uncertain he'd survive another throat-bulging kiss.

As much as the human wanted to give in and let the Cuga ravish his body, uncertainty bubbled in his soul with every invasive nuzzle and lick and graze against finger-sized fangs. This was a full-on Wyvern, a beast considered a man-eater by many and a murderous threat by others.

“Why does it feel so right?" Crow lamented. He raised his hands, tracing his fingers past the glossy beak and into the fur behind it just below the hungry eyes. The returned affections earned him a break in the incessant probing at his form by eager tongue. The Nargacuga pulled back to readjust their position over their object of adoration. The foreleg underneath his head pulled away.

The Nargacuga's massive paws thudded down around him, making it very clear that Crow was not yet free. The paws dragged downwards, claws ground against the stone until they pinched the human's legs together with their mere presence. The Nargacuga had no need nor desire to show their strength when simply existing was enough to keep their plaything still.

The pair of odd companions locked eyes. One trembled with excitement and confusion; the other radiated a burning hunger yet unsated. The Nargacuga raised their haunches high and leaned in. Their hips swayed, ready to pounce, but they continued to dote and love on their human.

Much to Crow's mounting concern, the affections no longer focused on his face. They sunk lower and lower until that tongue began curling and probing around his midsection and groin.

“Whoa, hey!" Crow's protests went unacknowledged, bouncing off twitching ears and batted away by the excited tail whipping back and forth, rattling the spines underneath.

Hot, humid breath washed over him, and the agile tongue began to undo the human's only layer of defense, his armor. Crow's inhibitions roiled from a simmer to a boil, worked up as the tongue found the gaps between his chest plate and greaves. The Nargacuga never relented; the hook of its beak pushed into his midsection and then sank down. It snagged to the top of his trousers and, with tug after tug, began to pull them down. The strong jerks dragged Crow along the ground inch by inch. But with each increasingly desperate tug from the Nargacuga, he was losing the battle to conceal his shameful arousal.

“Quit it!" Crow shouted, his hands dipping down to free his waistband from the Nargacuga's beak. So close to their prize, the Nargacuga did not relent even at Crow's rising concern. Cold air brushed against Crow's groin as a final powerful tug down revealed his crown to the cave and the Nargacuga seeking it out.

“No!" His attempts to save himself from exposure proved futile against the much more powerful monster. Crow couldn't do this! He'd be shamed. He was kicked from the guild and sent back to the Old World, a shadow of his former self. Empathy was one thing; consent was another. Neither could give it, as neither could understand the other.

Crow made the stomach-churning mistake of casting a glance downwards and spotted the tapered protrusion of the Wyvern's arousal poking from their slit. The angry purple-red member spooled out, rising and pointing at its target of affection. Crow caught the attention of a male, and the revelation added another layer to their already unfathomable relationship. Crow's palms pushed at the edges of the Purple Nargacuga's beak, trying to force the beast to relent.

The tip of the Nargacuga's tongue found Crow's crown, dashing over it and imparting drooling heat that arced pleasure up Crow's spine. The Nargacuga snarled approval for the taste of its bared lover, sniffing and huffing Crow's scent straight from his most powerful source. The Nargacuga lapped beneath his waistband, flattening against his stomach and curling around his organ. Crow's toes curled hard enough to cut divots in the sole.

A salacious, overstimulated moan escaped Crow's parted lips. It met the Nargacuga's rising rumbles. The bestial hunger behind the spine-shuddering snarls carried a promise that this ordeal was just getting started. Crow curled in around the slurping muscle, which twisted and coated him from belly to thighs and caressed everything in between.

“I can't— Please!" Crow begged, unable to lift or convince his pushy friend to give him space. Guilty pleasure wracked Crow's form, and with it came the snaring tendrils of fear. A cold beak ground against the smooth flesh of his own groin. The Nargacuga probed deeper into the opening. The funnel of flesh slithered further in, the beak pushing his stomach in and giving the Nargacuga more room to worm into. His pride throbbed under the tender, undulating caresses of a taboo Wyvern tongue. Crow shuddered and trembled, overcome in equal parts ecstasy and shame. The shame won out; Crow slammed his metaphorical foot down.

It was now or never.

“I said NO!" Crow hollered in a desperate bid to be heard and slammed a fist against the beak of his aggressor. No doubt it hurt his exposed knuckles far more than the Nargacuga.

The human's hostility made the message loud and clear. The Nargacuga whined and leaped back. The hook of the beak still within his waistband dragged him across the floor, and only through his survival instincts did he unhook himself and thump back into the stone floor below.

An angry snarl rose from the ashes of the inviting rumbles and increased in fervor. He seized the chance to tug his armor up and cover his glistening indecency.

Still pinned beneath the forelimbs of the Nargacuga, Crow witnessed the build-up of rage at a new angle. His eyes could only see the clenching jaw above him, opening and closing in a rising fervor of snarls. Sharp bone-crushing fangs glinted in the dark, baying for blood. Furious eyes glared down upon his form, the purple scales framing them glowing vibrantly in a building rage. The tail that once swished in excitement rattled and exposed the skewering spines ready to release.

“I'm sorry!" Crow pleaded with the raging Wyvern; his hands held high in submission, a futile effort that brought him within dangerous inches of the snapping jaws. “I just can't do it! I can't take advantage of you like that!"

The roiling emotions in Crow's head all centered on his desire to die at this point. No, getting carted back, no rescue. He just wanted the end of his story. A desire that the previously lovable Nargacuga seemed ready to deliver at a moment's notice. Crow squeezed his eyes shut, accepting his fate.

A mournful roar echoed through the Cave, shattering the remaining pieces of Crow's will. The lamenting sound tugged at his heartstrings and suggested that Crow might have actually hurt this monster deeper than either of his blades could. “I should have stopped this." His own curiosity and adoration of this Nargacuga proved to be his downfall.

The weight holding him still vanished, following a fading trail of sprinting footfalls. When Crow cracked his eyes open, he was alone in the Cave.

Stewing in his own rage, Crow pounded the bottom of his still-stinging fist into the cave floor next to him. He released a stream of vulgarity into the amplifying echo of the cave. His own primal roar of frustration.

Crow had to blame something for the complete breakdown of his budding relationship. Looking down, he sneered at his softening groin, now tucked safely behind his armor. “Screw you, Dick. Why'd you do this to me?!"

His arousal fueling the Nargacuga's confusion served as Crow's prime suspect. He recalled all those jokes he made back at Astera. His close hunter pal and fellow monster behavioral expert, Fungus, always encouraged his salacious hypothesizing.

“Which Monster would you take as a mate, Fungus?" He mocked himself, set his palms to the floor, and winced at the deep grooves left in the stone. If only he could predict the situation he'd be in now—

The entire last twelve hours spiraled out of control like a Rathalos flash podded from the sky. Crow picked himself up from the ground and sucked in deep breaths, and exhaled out, the only question blaring in his head. “Why is a Nargacuga actually trying to fuck me?!"

“Anyone?!" Crow looked around the cave in frustration; no answer came from the Omenflies and small wildlife that encircled the room.

Saliva still coated his body, and the smoky aroma still clung to him. Caressing him like a blanket and snuffing out his anger. He had to keep moving, Crow not used to guiding himself, after such a long time being dragged around by his Purple Nargacuga.

His. Great wording. Crow berated himself. He listlessly wandered the perimeter of the cave. Each step forward helped him tread over a spiraling mental pit of disappointment and confusion. He could still feel the traces of the tongue across him, the eager huffs as it took his scent, the way the Nargacuga focused on only him. He accepted the courtship, then rejected the deed.

Crow continued to pace the perimeter of the room. More carved grooves in the rock, a neat collection of bones polished of meat. The Nargacuga kept a clean home. “Poor guy probably thinks I hate him now."

A glint of reflected light caught his eye and saved him from his guilty muse. A metallic glint in the back of the cave captured the weak light from the Omenflies, revealing an alcove in the limestone wall.

He heard rumors that Nargacuga and other Wyverns collected trinkets and baubles they enjoyed. Maybe it would provide some context as to what exactly drove the Purple Nargacuga onto him with such fervor.

Crow approached the hidden chamber, feeling out the smooth stone in the low light. He bet this place was lit up like a pleasant morning to the Nargacuga's advanced eyes. His foot snagged on something, a cloth of some sort.

He reached down and found something unexpected in his grip. The latticework fibers of a Ghillie mantle had been stashed away in the corner.

“Wait a tick…" He flipped the mantle over. Some of the ancient leaves used previously crumbled away, revealing the smithy's tag.

“I lost this thing months ago!" His own name and guild ID number shone in silver inlay beneath the cloth. He remembered combing the entire Highlands for it with Fungus and coming home empty-handed. “So you took it!"

Had this Nargacuga really been tracking him for all these months? It would make sense; he never was able to get any good sightings of him. Perhaps the Nargacuga had been hunting him this entire time. He sighed and threw the mantle over his shoulder; at least he'd not go home empty-handed.

His curious gaze traveled up the cave wall that hosted his old mantle. His eyes widened at a singular word carved into the cave wall.

C R O W

This had not been carved by any grimalkyne, and the grooves were far too wide for any of their tools. “It's the perfect width of a Nargacuga claw!"

The Purple Nargacuga learned his name! Crow reeled at the revelation; his mind rushed to countless conclusions.

“Why the hell did I have to lose my camera?!"