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Theagrim cursed himself. He needed to speak with this strange druid, but every time he caught up to her, he found he couldn't control himself. When he touched her, his lust took over, forcing him into a frenzy of fornication. She always seemed more than happy to oblige, yet at every opportunity the Night Elf fled. He tried to clear his head, scrambling to his feet to pursue the fleeing druid, who had assumed the shape of a horse. He would be faster as a worg, but she would have longer distance capability. He would have to hurry, but he had no idea what to do when he caught up to her â€" if he touched her, he feared there would only be a repeat of their previous encounters.

Sameyila had recognized the pattern as well, struggling to elude the Tauren, which became cumulatively more cumbersome with each copulation. He had filled her once on the beach, as barking sea lions, and again as a worg. The latter had fit so snugly within her lithe ghostpaw form that his seed had coated her womb, and even as a horse she could feel the tingling sense of connection she felt at any contact with the Tauren or his seed. It crippled her movement, making her hobble slightly with each step. She had learned to fight the desire that was welling within her, telling her urgently to stop resisting. Her body wanted nothing more than to stop, lift her tail, and let the Tauren take her any way he pleased, until she collapsed from exhaustion. She had no intention of outrunning the druid this time. This time she would hide. She looked over her shoulder, relived to find that she had gotten enough of a head start to break line of sight with her unwanted suitor. It was time to lose him for good.

Theagrim scented the night elf, following quickly. He had expected to overtake her quickly, but it became apparent that she had changed forms in an attempt to lose him. His first thought was that she would escape through flight, and he wasted no time assuming the form of a great hawk, brown feathers and sharp eyes coupled with amazing strength and speed. He shot upward, above the forest canopy and scouting for any movement. If she were fleeing by air, he would spot her. But it took no more than a few circles overhead to see that she had not attempted to fly away. He scanned the ground, seeing no evidence of any large animals fleeing, though he spotted a few squirrels, and tasty-looking mice.

Disheartened, he returned to the scent trail he had found, reassuming his large, black worg form. He found her trail quickly, her scent wafting through the air, muddled heavily with his own musk, and the pungent smell of his own ejaculate. Quickly he set to finding her. The smell changed suddenly, behind a massive tree, and became fainter, hard to follow. He lost the trail more than once, and even had to call out to the nearby trees to aid his search. Finally, he followed the trail to its conclusion, and he grinned. It was a rabbit hole. He could hardly believe he had managed to track her so far, but he was careful to make sure the hole wasn't a decoy. It wasn't, her scent and his filled the narrow passageway into the earth. Either she had hoped to lose him in the darkness, or she was testing him to see if he had mastered anything small enough to follow her.

He had studied the hares of Durotar well enough, and quickly assumed that form. He was almost too large to fit into the rabbit hole, his bulky weight a tense mass of muscles, designed for fighting or fleeing. Rabbits were Ashenvale's smaller cousins to the hare. His fur matched the Durotar landscape, reddish brown, and two nubs of horns protruded from his forehead, betraying his Tauren origin. Larger horns would be a liability. He scrambled into the warren, desperate to find the elusive woman. His sense of smell was not a match for the worg, but more than enough to navigate the narrow corridors.

Sameyila rested, gasping for air in the center of a large central cavern, painstakingly hollowed out by the rabbits that now surrounded her, watching her curiously. In her dazed exhaustion, she was making mistakes she hadn't made for thousands of years. Her rabbit form was to hide in plain sight, and thus needed to match the white fur of the Ashenvale rabbits, yet she sported purple-blue fur with lunar symbols on each shoulder, and if you thought rabbits had long ears â€" hers extended the full length of her body. She relaxed, believing she had finally lost the Tauren, one way or another. But as she looked around the dark room at white rabbit after white rabbit with twitching nose, she turned to see a red rabbit clawing its way through the tunnel she had just used. Her eyes widened, impressed that he could have found her, and so quickly. She realized he was no rabbit, but a similar, much larger creature, and his nub-horns were all the proof she needed that it was him.

Theagrim spotted her instantly, her purple fur and ears a dead give-away. He entered the larger hollow, glad to be out of the narrow tunnel, and relieved to have found her. But now that he had found her, there was no way that he could speak to her. If he got too close, he feared he would find himself inside of â€"her- narrow tunnel. Perhaps she would leave the warren with him willingly, and at a distance. He hopped in her direction, hesitant. But he was startled to see the purple rabbit turn toward him and begin moving slowly toward him.

Sameyila knew she couldn't outrun him. Not in her current state. She knew when he caught up to her that she would once again be under his spell. If she wanted to escape the Tauren druid, she could either try to reach a tunnel too small for the large hare to follow, or she could give in to him, here and now. Since she doubted she could reach a side tunnel before he could reach her, she decided on the latter. This time, she would boff him so frantically, so often, that he would be too exhausted to follow her!

Theagrim stepped back as the Night Elf approached him, surprised. Was she trying to show him she would follow him? He hoped so, but she hopped directly toward him, faster than he could backpedal. She was going to touch him, and he feared it would be too late. He backed up more quickly as she gained speed, hoping she would realize he was interested in her, not simply interested in copulating with her. Suddenly he backed up into the wall, and she closed the distance quickly, causing the ruddy hare to fall against the curved wall.

She pursued the druid until he was trapped against the wall, leaning with his back against the wall, as if he were a person, leaning nonchalantly. One of his hind feet pushed against the ground, holding him upright, while the other was pulled up against his soft belly, as if he might kick her away. His short front paws hung uselessly in front of him. She was sure he wouldn't try to push her away, and she pounced, stepping lightly on his large foot and placing her paws on his knees. She could immediately feel the narcotic connection that she took to be a very rude, but incredibly satisfying spell the Tauren had placed upon her mind. She knew she would enjoy this.

He knew it was too late as soon as she touched him. He leaned back against the wall of the dark warren, closing his eyes as the electricity coursed through his small body. It was all he could do to resist moaning when he felt the little bunny reach for his growing cock. He shivered as he felt her paws - much more dexterously applied than a real rabbit would be able to do - wrap around his wet, glistening shaft. He could not help moaning, this time, as she wasted no time, beginning to lap at the very tip of his fully erect penis.

Sameyila was impressed again at the size of the Tauren druid's forms. She wondered if he just preferred larger, more impressive animals, or if the creatures in Mulgore or the Barrens were just larger than she was used to. She had never seen a hare before â€" he was twice her size in every way, but she was sure she could handle him. She had never been crazy about taking rabbits as mates. They were fast, impersonal, and rather under-endowed. They were nowhere near the quality of a boar mate. She wondered if this Tauren had such a form...

She reached down, gripping his soft, white orbs, while sliding her other paw along his wet, red rod, licking eagerly at his tip. She could taste the first signs of his seed already, after only five or six licks, and she knew this would be easier than she had feared. Every time she could bring him to climax without matching him herself, she would gain. With luck, soon he would be too tired to pursue her at all. She put all her effort into her work, trying to suppress her own building desire that called out to her. She wanted to climb onto the large hare and impale herself on him, but she knew that would be counterproductive to her plan. Not only did his seed cause her insides to tingle, making it impossible to run effectively, but she had already had a long day â€" every mind-blowing orgasm she shared with her persistent admirer would bring her closer to collapsing in exhaustion.

Theagrim was tiring as well, and her secret plan might well work. He melted under her expert paws and tongue, wanting nothing more than to reciprocate, but unable to summon the will to interrupt the sensations. It was only moments before the small rabbit brought the large hare to the edge, and even as she wrapped her tongue around his tip, he exploded, squeaking loudly as he released toward her face and mouth. She tried to pull away, but he responded immediately to the loss of contact. As she pulled away, a cold chill enveloped his body â€" he needed her there, touching him, and instinctively he leaned forward, grabbing her by the excessively long purple ears and pulling her back down to his pulsing cock.

She tried to back away from his erupting erection, but he had grabbed her and pulled her back, pushing her cheek against his tip. She closed her eyes as he splattered her face, and she turned her head, opening her mouth and plunging it around him. He squeaked again, moaning as he sent waves of semen into her mouth, which she greedily swallowed. She could hardly believe his furry little sack could be so productive, but he was much larger than the rabbits she was used to. He held her there by the ears, until he was finished. She immediately regretted her impulse decision to drink his seed â€" it would have been better matted in her fur. She began to feel the tingling in her coated stomach, and she knew that it would distract her for the rest of the day.

Sated, he let her go, regretting the harshness of his actions. Why did he let this lust control his actions? She was in much more control than he. She had been able to quickly recover from their exultant copulations and attempt to flee. He felt bad, and he knew he had to make it up to her. He stood, putting his hands on her shoulders. She was surprised, looking up at him, mesmerized by his touch. He pushed her head aside with his, and began licking the side of her face where his first spurts of fluid had struck her fur.

She shivered at his touch, doing everything she could to overcome her lustful desire to turn around and lift her flag-like tail for him. He cleaned her fur gently, belying the force he had used earlier. She didn't blame him for that. She knew what it must have felt like for her to pull away from him at the crux of his pleasure. Her head turned, she noticed now the other rabbits in the cavern. Theagrim did too, seeing the curious rabbits standing in a circle, watching. The rabbits had obviously never seen such a display, two strange rabbits doing very strange things. He felt their eyes on him, and could not help but feel like the males were envious and the females...intrigued by his massive size. No, he was just prescribing sentient thoughts to non-sentient creatures.

Sameyila was intrigued, though. She was having more and more trouble driving the thought of that large protrusion pounding her with the standard fury customary for rabbits. If that thing were penetrating her as quickly as her countless rabbit mates had done, she knew she would barely be able to hold on. It would be detrimental to her goal of tiring him out while remaining fresh, but as he held her and licked her face, she was increasingly losing control. She had to do something quickly.

She pushed him away to clear her head. He was surprised by her sudden change of attitude, and he backwards. The wall wasn't there to stop him this time, and he landed unceremoniously on his back, eyes wide. Then she returned quickly to her task, sending her tongue along the length of his still hyper-sensitive shaft. All eyes were on them as Theagrim moaned, shivering. He had been recovering, slowly but surely, and was about to try to convince the Night Elf to follow him outside, but this...he was lost again as his penis hardened yet again.

She trembled, her body demanding more. She took every effort to reduce contact with Theagrim, leaning forward so that only her tongue touched the hare. She felt noticeably more able to contain her thoughts. She licked him quickly, helping him harden into another firm erection. Theagrim, on the other hand, wanted more contact. Her tongue felt incredible lapping at his tip and running up and down his shaft, but he knew that the sensation would be amplified with every point of connection. He wanted to bury himself inside the small bunny, and leave his seed within her. He leaned forward before Sameyila could react. He was much more powerful than her in this form, and though his paws were not true hands, they were more than sufficient to grab the purple rabbit by her extremely long ears and pull her back with him as he lay down once more.

Sameyila shivered as she noted her situation. He had pulled her on top of him, their furred bellies touching as she stood over him. She was quickly losing control as the tingling sensation returned, and was about to hop away when he leaned up and kissed her on the lips. Would she ever get used to that? In ten thousand years of taking animal partners, none had ever thought to kiss her. Kissing this druid was one of the more pleasant experiences of her life. She was lost, kissing him back with fervor.

The two lagomorphs were a bit tongue-tied for a moment, but she could wait no longer. She was wet and horny, and thanks to her skilled licks, he was ready for her. She just hoped that she was ready to take the large hare. She backed up from him, breaking the kiss to line up her hips with his. He watched her with wide eyes as the rabbit almost half his size stopped, hovering over his cock, which now pointed directly under her tail. He wrapped his front paws around her neck lovingly, and then leaned back with an incredulous squeak as Sameyila took the plunge.

With nervous excitement, the female druid lowered her hindquarters onto his stiff, quivering staff. She lifted her small tail and thrust down, forcing the immense organ between her soft thighs. At first she was not sure he could fit, so she pushed harder, and with a sudden counter-thrust on his part, he wedged his way within her. The wet, tight pressure around his penis caused the brown hare to moan loudly, his call echoing throughout the dark cavern. Sameyila could hardly believe the electricity she felt as he filled her small form completely. He was so big that he touched every inch of her internal walls, triggering the narcotic magic that made every coupling with the Tauren druid so incredible. She knew her plan was going awry, but she didn't care. She began pushing up and down onto Theagrim with reckless abandon, desperately desiring the tremendous release she knew would soon come.

Every rabbit in the warren seemed to be watching the two druids now, standing in a circle a few hops away, drawn by their loud, frantic squeals. Theagrim wasn't thinking about talking anymore. The tight, soft bunny convulsing around his massive penis drove all other thoughts out of his head. He simply wanted to hump her until he didn't have the energy to move. He pulled his upper body up by pulling on her neck, his hare form twice as long as the rabbit, until he lay at a right angle, his rump still on the ground but his torso standing straight up, embracing Sameyila. He kissed her again, moving his front paws to her waist and pushing her onto himself, ever deeper.

Sameyila's mind was lost to lust again, and she kissed her antagonist, their tongue entwining while she rode him, his giant organ splitting her apart and gently rubbing against her cervix. The tingling contact coursed through her entire body, and it was all she could do to keep raising and lowering her hindquarters onto his cock. She could feel her energy depleting, but nothing else mattered until she reached her glorious orgasm with the large red hare.

Rabbits are not known for their self-control, and it took only seconds more before Theagrim pulled down on Sameyila with all the strength he could muster, penetrating her completely. With a loud squeak, he released rope after rope of stringy semen into her. His tip pressed roughly up against the tiny rabbit's cervix, so his seed splattered up against it, some managing to force its way directly into her womb. Sameyila began to shudder, relaxing her depths in order to take as much of Theagrim as possible, squealing ceaselessly as his ejaculate again flooded her womb, causing electricity to course within such a deep, private part of her.

Soon she collapsed onto him, and he lay back, exhausted, still embedded deeply within her. The physical contact was electrifying, and they lay together pleasantly in the afterglow. Sameyila licked his face, making a soft purring sound in contentment, before falling into a light sleep. But it was not over for the two of them. She woke minutes later, and her body was screaming for more. Time seemed to move forward in disconnected fragments as the two rabbits began mating furiously. She found herself on all fours with him mounted. Her ears were laid back on either side of her, and he stood on them with all four legs, tugging gently at them to aid his rough thrusts. In no time, he was flooding her again, his balls pulsing with each powerful ejaculation.

Even when she lost all contract with the Tauren druid, she was still under his spell, his copious contributions coating her insides and driving her to more, ever more, incredible copulations. The other rabbits watched the show with curiosity. She lay on the large hare, who lay on his back while she rested her back against his soft belly. He gripped her around her forelegs as he pounded her again, exhausted moans and squeaks erupting from both of them. His cock was so big, and filled her so well, and she was driven to senseless lust again and again, seeking that incredible fullness â€" she felt complete when they were together, as if he filled another, figurative hole within her that had been empty all her life. He then filled her literally as well, much of his semen trickling out of her sore entrance into his lap and onto the ground.

The next thing she knew, she was on her back, the hare standing over her as he pounded between her legs. He was so much larger than her that his forelegs stood as pillars some inches beyond where her head lay, and all she could see was his fluffy white chest. She closed her eyes, dug her claws into the ground and pushed back against his powerful thrusts, unable to think clearly. It seemed only moments before he was filling her up again, while she quivered and squealed in ecstasy. Suffice it to say that the other female rabbits in the warren were impressed with Theagrim's prowess.

Sameyila had no idea how long this process went on, but eventually her mind began to clear. She was getting better every time at setting aside her lust, and breaking free from the spell. Now she could begin to think every few moments, even while Theagrim was touching her completely. She was exhausted, though she knew he would be as well. So much for her plan! She knew she needed to get away from him soon, before she would be unable to even hobble out of the warren, but she had no chance of outrunning the larger hare in her current state. She took stock of her current position.

She was riding him again, as he lay beneath her, but her back was to him. She looked over her shoulder at the hare, who lay on his back, his eyes closed as she raised and lowered herself onto his firm shaft. She rubbed and caressed his balls gently with her forepaws as she rocked up and down. It was an incredible feeling, but her head had cleared enough to set that aside. She had a new plan, and she could only pray that it would work. She was getting stronger at resisting the Tauren druid's powerful magic, but she wondered how long it could be before she could handle it no more and simply submitting to become his sex slave. The thought had been occurring to her more than once, with surprising appeal.

Before she could enact her plan, she had to finish what she was doing. She hoped she could think clearly enough in her inevitable orgasm to put the pieces together. Suddenly she felt him erupting inside of her, and her plan would have to wait a moment as she climaxed powerfully around him. Once they were done shuddering and straining and screaming together, she was able to think again. She went quickly to work, running her paws along the base of his shaft where it lay still deeply embedded within her. She cupped his balls gently, working them through her paws, until she felt him hardening again within her, getting ready for more.

Briefly, she considered simply skipping her plan for now and letting him mount her again, eager for that incredible release, but she knew it was now or never. She pulled herself off of him, hopping a few paces forward, raising her rump into the air, and holding her tail up, showing off her sore, abused vulva, which she knew was a siren's call to the red hare. Theagrim sprang to his feet, chasing the purple rabbit, eager for more. He hopped forward in a lustful daze, which was just what Sameyila needed. At the last second, she ignored her body's call to stay put and let him take her, again and again until her mind was gone, and she hopped to the side. She was in luck, Theagrim didn't notice in the dark cave. Sameyila had stepped aside from where she stood behind another rabbit, and the Tauren continued forward blindly, mounting this other doe instead. Sameyila began hobbling toward one of the warren's exits, knowing that the ruse wouldn't last for long. She needed whatever head start she could muster.

Theagrim mounted what he thought was his Night Elf lover happily, grabbing the white doe's hindquarters and not hesitating before plunging himself deeply into the small rabbit. In his lust, it took several moments for him to realize that this rabbit was even tighter than before, and her insides were not drenched in cum. For her part, the surprised rabbit spread her legs, moaning in amazement at the incredible size of the intriguing red hare she had been watching and hoping for. She began thrusting back against him, squealing in contented lust, much to the jealousy of the other does in the warren. She couldn't understand why the strange purple rabbit would want to flee such treatment.

Theagrim pounded the white rabbit, filling her tight passageway completely in a state of blissful arousal, but the final clue that alerted him to the ruse was the powerful, chilling absence of that tingling connectedness he always shared with the Night Elf druid. He opened his eyes to realize that the wholly pleasant feeling around his cock was just another animal. He wanted Sameyila. He wasn't sure a mere animal could ever satisfy him again, though he was instinctually tempted to bang her quickly. He looked around, just barely catching a glimpse of purple fur fleeing down a nearby passage. He couldn't let her get away, and he pulled himself off of the doe, who was already orgasming around his massive erection. He didn't care, pursuing Sameyila, much to the chagrin of all the other rabbit does who were hoping he might service them all.

He wasted no time, bounding over to the tunnel and forcing his way through it. She had chosen the smallest passageway she could, but it wasn't tight enough to bar his way as he scrambled after her, getting dirt in his already brownish-red fur. The tunnel led upward until suddenly he emerged into the night air. Bright yellows and blues could be seen peeking through the mass of leaves overhead, and he looked around frantically for the other druid. She was nowhere to be seen, so he used what was left of his strength to call out to the flora and fauna around him, pleading to know if they had seen anything. He was relieved to be granted the strength he needed to hear their message, which appeared in his head. Wings.

Within seconds he had taken to the air, his brown feathers tipped with black. As a great hawk, he could fly and see incredible distances, while being much less fragile than a typical avian. He shot past the canopy into the warm sky, suddenly overwhelmed by the bright light of dawn. He gasped for breath, hoping he could locate her soon, because he had been running and mating and running since early last evening, and exhaustion was finally threatening to overtake him. He faltered in the air, pumping his wings to gain more altitude, scanning the trees below for any sign of the mysterious druid.

Sameyila was flying low to the trees, trying to get as much distance as possible before darting below the canopy once more to flee in a different form. She had assumed the shape of a great raven, her 8-foot wing span catching the gentle updraft in the air. She was having even more trouble staying aloft, flapping her wings shakily as the part of Theagrim that she now carried within her jostled. She tingled inside, her stomach and cloaca coated with the Tauren's seed. On top of that, she was just as exhausted as her pursuer. But she figured with her head start, she would finally be able to lose him.

Theagrim spotted the low-flying black bird struggling to fly, and he could sense immediately that it was her. Determination filled him, urging him forward despite his weariness. He began a gentle swoop toward the Night Elf, quickly overtaking her from above and behind. She was nowhere near as fast as he, perhaps owing to her size. He looked over the black raven. He dwarfed her wingspan with his own 10-foot span. She was only about the size of a buzzard, though that was an unfair comparison. Her sleek black feathers glistened in the morning sunlight, her aerodynamic shape and short neck much more appealing than the condors or buzzards of Azeroth.

Sameyila could sense him, looking back to glimpse him in the warm sunrise. Apparently, there was no way to escape the determined druid. She had tried everything in her power, but he was too much for her. She had tried to overcome him with Elune's grace and might, but he had proved her equal. She had tried to escape by river, by speed, by stealth, and by air, but he was always right behind her. She had been bested by this...upstart bullish druid. Resigned, she knew she could flee no longer. She could barely fly in her current state, and that involves gliding more than anything.

She began to slowly descend, heading toward a gentle river. She had lost track of exactly where she was. Sameyila couldn't help but be impressed by her adversary, though she knew enough to fear him. Only time would tell what he planned to do with her, but she was in no position to resist. She could only pray that she would somehow escape and rejoin her sisters. For now, she suspected, she would have to be his captive. A certain part of her was looking forward to it.

Theagrim followed her lazy descent, wondering if she had any more tricks to pull. He was ready for anything, but he felt as though she had given up, and would finally allow him to speak with her. He had many questions to ask. She landed quietly on a wide, flat rock, next to a stream, curling her wings to her sides, dramatically diminishing her apparent size. He landed next to her, leaving several feet between them to study the dark-feathered bird. He was hesitant to transform, for fear she might take to the air again.

Sameyila's eyes met his, and she waited. She didn't know what he planned, though she suspected she knew where his interests lay. He was a handsome bird, a raptor by the hooked shape of his beak, with beautiful, black-tipped brown feathers. Larger than she was, but not too much larger. But he just waited there, watching her. She began to feel uncomfortable. Surely one as powerful as he was could sense her defeat. She was his to do with as he pleased. Ultimately, she guessed that he was waiting, forcing her to submit willingly to his whims, rather than exert his will directly. Humiliated, she complied, fully recognizing that she could not resist him. She turned around until she faced away from the brown bird, bending down to lift her long, delicate tail feathers into the air. She lay on the smooth rock, her legs tucked up against her warm down.

Theagrim was surprised to see this display, though he found it difficult to look away. She had presented herself to him, her soft, black bottom in full view. He had expected her to talk. She was clearly too tired for this, and yet she behaved as though she wanted him on her again. It took every ounce of will to reject her blatant offering, but he squawked dismissively and stayed put.

She couldn't understand it. If this wasn't what he wanted, what was it? She turned again to face him, scrutinizing the druid. Perhaps he was testing her in some way. He stood there quietly, almost passively. It was the first time they had been near each other for a significant amount of time, when they weren't madly fornicating. Could it be that he was not a foe at all, and merely pursued her for other reasons? She knew that couldn't be true, but she could put it to the test. If he was no foe, he would allow her to leave if she so chose. She squawked and spread her wings, preparing to fly away, watching him carefully. If he were her captor, he could and would easily subdue her.

Theagrim watched the black bird with remorse. He could no longer justify tracking her down against her will. If she refused to speak with him, so be it. He would have to let her go, though it ate deeply at his heart. If he never saw her again, if life continued as it had before they had met, he doubted he would ever overcome his regret. But now that they stood face to face, he knew that she would know he was not her enemy. If that was not enough... He waited, dreading her ultimate decision. He saw her spread her wings, and he could no longer watch, looking away and closing his eyes mournfully. He would not open them until she was gone â€" he didn't think he could handle watching her depart.

Sameyila saw his reaction, and recognized immediately that he was allowing her to leave. After all of that â€" hours of pursuit, and a dozen exuberant orgasms, he would end his pursuit. She knew he could stop her, trivially, if he wanted, and she could feel his deep disappointment at her decision to fly. She didn't know what to make of this mysterious Tauren, ostensibly her enemy, but seeming to be so much more. She felt he cared for her, and she knew that it was no magic that led her to that conclusion. She realized that she cared for him as well, and for the first time that night, she didn't want to escape him anymore. She folded her wings, and walked carefully across the stone toward the cringing, mournful hawk.

Theagrim was disconsolate, dreading to hear the sound of her wings flapping as she flew away, but resigned to that fate. He thought perhaps he loved her, despite all their differences, but they had never even spoken. He thought back and realized that their time together had been one glorious evening months ago where neither had known the other's true nature, followed by a rampant pursuit on his part which was punctuated by him forcing himself on her. He could understand why she had kept fleeing him, and why she fled now. He could hardly believe how he had acted. He had been telling himself that it wasn't his fault, that he simply lost control whenever he touched her, but that was an excuse. He couldn't blame her for him losing control. And then he felt it.

Something brushed up against his tucked wing, and it sent an electric shock through his feathers. He opened in eyes in surprise, only to be greeted by the great raven, who stepped in, nestling her soft head against his neck. She leaned against him, her soft, warm body pressing against his, and he almost fell backwards from the stone into the gently running water. He caught himself by counterbalancing, extending his wings beyond her. Once stabilized, he wrapped his wings around her in an avian embrace. She was so warm, and every light breeze made their feathers brush up against each other, sending the now familiar tingling sensation through their bodies.

Sameyila knew now that he was not her enemy. He had been willing to let her go, to prove that she was not his prisoner, but rather his lover. She could not deny that the sex had been incredible â€" every time it began, she could hardly help but cooperate fully in a state of complete ecstasy. But it had been more than that, she realized. The connection between them, that she felt whenever she touched him; it was not his evil magic, enthralling her to his will. It was an amplification of the natural world's magic, showing her the way to him. She doubted she would ever feel complete again if she left him. Even though he was a Tauren, a species she had been taught were beneath the majesty of the Night Elves, he had proved every bit her equal. This time, as they touched, she was with him, body and soul.

Theagrim was conflicted. He held the raven, and he could feel the narcotic allure that he had always felt when he was with her. He wanted to spin her around in his wings, push her down on the stone and mount her, but he stopped himself. He needed to know that he could, in fact, trust himself. Though she seemed welcoming, he was finding it difficult to read her true feelings. Her desires were overwhelmed by the touch, by the completion he felt with her in his grasp. He knew that now that they touched, she would not resist his desire, the evidence of which was growing harder between his legs. Instead of giving in, this time, he stood his ground, embracing the Night Elf raven, but leaving it at that. He squawked softly as she began to coo, leaning into him.

They were both completely exhausted, and their partner's silky feathers proved to be excellent pillows. Theagrim stood still, focusing on the love he felt for this strange creature, not the lust that welled up within him. He lowered himself on to the wide, flat stone, pulling her to him. Though the warm electricity still coursed through his body, he found himself content just to hold her, wearily. He had had a long night, and this time, he felt, they were finally together, willingly, and for all the right reasons. His erection subsided.

Sameyila leaned in, feeling surrounded and whole wrapped in Theagrim's feathered embrace. She was surprised at this turn of events, but she knew enough now to expect to be surprised by the powerful druid that had chased her down, just to let her go. She went to him. She knew that she had made the right decision. Together, the two druids welcomed the deep lull of sleep, even though the dawn sun had risen high in the sky. The two lovers had earned their tranquil respite.