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The desert wind howled all around the two travelers, whipping sand into every orifice, matting their fur and scales. It wasn't the kind of storm either of the two were used to; there was wind, but no rain. Not a single drop of rain. No moisture in the air. Only a desiccating kind of dryness that parched their tongues as they soldiered through it, looking for any kind of shelter despite the swirling sands making it almost impossible to see where they were going. Finally, they found a cliff, and the dragon curled up against it, on the side less assaulted by the winds, and curled up around the vixen, using his wings best he could to shield at least their faces from the storm.

Vaine coughed up sand. Cai followed suit. He could still feel the blasting sand beating against his wings, though they were sheltered from the worst of it. He'd certainly not fly for a while - even imagining moving his wings with this much sand stuck between every scale made him cringe. He hadn't predicted it'd be this bad, and neither had his constant companion. Both had known it would be bad, certainly, but not quite so grueling. It'd been fine, if unpleasant, until they reached the vast desert separating the midlands from the south, and then it'd been tolerable until the sandstorm struck. It'd been on them in what felt like an instant, the wind picking up and the cloudless sky darkened with sand it whipped up. The rest of their entourage had been lost, but by some miracle, Cai and Vaine had managed to stick together, with the small fox holding onto a tail or wing as he forged onwards.

And here they were, in the middle of a godforsaken desert, out of supplies and water, waiting for the storm to end so they could at least see where they were going.

"Still not as bad as the smell of wolves," Vaine quipped, before seizing up, another convulsive coughing fit expelling the rest of the fine sand from her nose and throat.

"Not nearly as bad as the wyverns, either," replied Cai. With his reptilian nostrils he'd avoided the worst of the sand. At least, his lungs had. But his eyes felt grainy, precious drops of tears running down his cheeks as he tried to blink it out.

"I can't believe anyone would willingly live here," Vaine spoke, leaning against the cliff, trying to shake the sand out of her ears.

"I can't believe anyone could live here," her mate replied. He knew, of course, that they could. The southern dragons had lived here for ages, and had adapted to the horrible climates down here; just as the northern ones could easily deal with temperatures that'd freeze others solid. He_knew_ that but it was regardless hard to believe. Much in the same way that he still could scarcely believe that he was both male and female. Sure, he'd grown to accept it - and had enjoyed experiencing motherhood quite a few times - but it hadn't truly become a part of him yet. He didn't _think_of himself as anything but male, even though he'd laid several clutches. It'd come with time. But right now, all he could think about was how to survive their current predicament.

After another coughing fit, Vaine eventually relaxed. Despite her form being infused with draconic might, she was still smaller, daintier than true dragons, and the journey so far had already taken its toll. Once she'd finally managed to still herself, Vaine closed her eyes, and promptly passed out in Cai's embrace. The dragon almost wanted to do the same, but he had to be awake to shield the two them from the elements themselves. So he thought back on things, working out exactly how they'd gotten into this situation to begin with.

It'd been what seemed just like any other evening.

And then, as Vaine left for dinner, she took a knife to the back. A small fennec had run up to her and before she could react, he'd already brandished the knife and thrust. There was something he hadn't considered, though; the spreading dragonscales, already covering most of her back, just tough enough to catch the blade. Once alerted, she'd made quick work of him, having both the advantage of size and that of magic. The knife melted into white-hot metal in his hand, or so he thought, and he'd begun to scream, running in a blind panic to the castle moat and throwing himself in. From there, the guards had picked him up.

But such attempts were supremely rare among dragons. For all their scheming and planning, outside of war, there were practically no killings, or even attempts at such. They regarded it as too inelegant a solution, too obvious, and worst of all, resulting in net suffering. Oh, dragons would certainly ruin each other, but they preferred leaving the victims enjoying themselves regardless. After all, a dethroned rival who'd found themselves enjoying their new place in life - typically as a happy breeder - was far less likely to take revenge than the kin of someone unjustly killed.

But this one wasn't a dragon. Nor was he a fox, at least not the kind that lived in the north, west, or east. His ears were enormous, as the guards discovered when stripping him of his cloak. And he screamed, even after the false images Vaine had thrust into his skull wore off. It seemed to be what these foxes did, for a variety of reasons. For almost any reason, it turned out.

It'd taken a while before they got any words out of him. Specifically, what Cai wanted to know was why he targeted Vaine rather than himself, as the king. And the fennec's answer chilled his boiling blood; the vixen was, obviously, the real power in the realm. Or so thought the female who sent him here. The dreaded tyrant-queen of the south, whose name the fox had not even been graced with it; her will was absolute, he claimed.

When pressed for why the queen wanted her gone, the long-eared fox had no answers to give. He didn't ask questions; he was told what to do and he did it. Just like the foxes of Brackwater, Vaine realized. Or Dragonfort, for that matter, before Cai's rise to royalty. Vaine asked why she wanted her dead rather than gone and the assassin merely stared at her. What options were there?

He was sent to the other servants after that, with his hands restrained behind his back. They'd teach him a thing or to. And with that fire lit under her, Vaine didn't have time to assist personally. No, she had to get to the bottom of this, and Cai agreed.

The scouts knew little of the south; if one went far enough in that direction, one happened upon a seemingly endless desert. Many did cross it, but doing so was beyond a scout's duties. One of the older nobles had been beyond the sands, or so he claimed, but was years ago, when the lands were still ruled by a king of some kind, their civilization much older than that of Dragonfort, yet no more advanced. But as he remembered it, they'd been much like the dragons of the west, bar for some strange customs. He gave them a worn, old map of the desert.

There could've been a coup, or a revolution, Cai theorized. Or perhaps a simple passing of power to a younger, more radical ruler. Either way, the desert shielded them rather well from direct intervention, not to mention that they knew little about what military might they possessed. And so, begrudgingly, Cai and Vaine had decided to set off with small entourage of their most trustworthy guards. After all, they'd dealt with worse - or so they thought - and sitting here waiting for the next assassin wasn't a risk either of them were willing to take.

And so, here they were. Cai, as he returned to the present day, realized he could no longer feel the wind beating against his wings. The thought of simply waiting out any assassins sent their way started to seem like the better option, but going back at this point was just as dangerous as pressing on. With a groan, he moved them, feeling stiff and with that irritating sand crusting every gap in his scaled hide. He managed to fold his wings despite the pain, and realized that the desert was once again still. Silent, hot, and bright, all sand having settled as the winds died down. There were no tracks and no apparent landmarks, at least not on this side of the cliff wall that'd saved them from the storm.

The bright light quickly brought Vaine out of her slumber, and she yawned, shielding her eyes from the scorching sun. "Well," she said, her voice still sounding exhausted. "Back to this, I guess."

She stood up as Cai tried to shake off sand, but he realized that he'd need a thorough scrubbing before he'd be able to do much. The desert-drakes, as he understood it, didn't really have scales. Or rather, their scales were too small that sand couldn't stick to them, looking almost like coarse skin. It resulted in a plain, smooth appearance that'd look drab and depressing in any other part of the world, which is why they rarely left their homelands. But out here, it seemed like the only way to survive in the long term.

"Any idea of which direction we're meant to be heading?" Vaine said, brushing off her compass and turning around while holding it. She'd managed to hold onto that little thing, but the map had been blown away, and so they only had half the equipment. The desert would drain them fast if they couldn't find a settlement or an oasis.

The dire straits they were in were enough to distract Cai from things that'd otherwise be occupying most of his thoughts. Because of the urgency of the situation, they had to leave right in the middle of his heat cycle. And the suppressants he'd been using to keep the worst of it at bay had been lost with their servants, so it'd be flaring up soon enough. Already he was feeling that familiar itch in his lower belly, where he'd come to realize his ovaries were. It wasn't overwhelming yet, but he knew from experience that it would be, in a few days if not sooner, and from everything he'd heard of the desert dwellers, they'd not be able to help him.

But it wouldn't kill him. Quite the opposite, really; heats usually led to more life. The desert heat, on the other hand, would.

"I think there's meant to be an oasis on the other side," Vaine sighed, vaguely gesturing towards the top of the cliff. "Or I might be wrong- But there can't be that many cliffs out here, right? There was one on the map..." she closed her eyes, seemingly thinking intently, trailing off. "From what I remember, there's an oasis, then a village, and then eventually the capital, all south of this. Nazjadar, it's named."

"Better name than Dragonfort," Cai said, dryly. He really wasn't the kind to make jokes, usually. But the situation was dire enough to warrant an awkward attempt at it, he figured.

Without any better options, they set off, following the cliff wall along until it eventually became a mere hill - or sand dune - that they could cross. If this was the cliff on the map, they hadn't been far off despite the storm. The strangest thing about it all was just how dry it all was; the most they'd seen in the way of plants were a few hardy, mostly withered shrubs. The few scout reports he'd read described at least some life, even if it was a desert. But nobody had been this far south in years, at least none from Dragonfort or Brackwater. And Cai had a very real worry that any oasis they might find would be dried out.

Minutes blurred into hours as they slowly ascended the "cliff", with Vaine often slipping in the dry sand. Cai had no such problems, having four legs and his massive claws, but it wasn't a pleasant journey either way. Everything out here seemed stretched out, featureless desert making it hard to gauge just how far one had walked. But eventually, they reached the top - heads pounding from exertion, overheating, and dehydration - and beneath them, in a valley, there was indeed an oasis. It was a wonderful surprise; Cai had begun to expect the worst, but they weren't so far off course that they couldn't still make it.

Although giddy about the oasis looming in the distance - and quietly praying it wasn't a mirage - Vaine was startled as she heard a familiar screech; a wyvern, flying overhead. Not one of hers, but a wyvern nonetheless. She'd not imagined seeing any here, but it didn't worry her; she knew how to deal with them, and Cai could easily dispatch one on his own even if it got aggressive. That, and the promise of even a few drops of water was more and more alluring by the second.

The two finally arrived at the "oasis". It wasn't much, but it was real: a few palmtrees providing a similar few spots of shade, some green, rough grass surrounding it, and a spring in the sand where water lazily bubbled to the surface, enough so to form a small pool. The trees themselves looked about to wilt, and it was obvious that the oasis had been bigger at some point. But it wasn't dry, not yet. Not enough to sustain the vegetation, much less a dragon of Cai's size and his fox companion. But then again, they weren't planning to stay here. Nor anywhere else in the dry lands of the south.

Vaine allowed Cai to drink first. She had been sheltered from the desiccating sands under his wings, after all. Not that she wasn't thirsty, parched even, but her mate had taken the worst of it. He didn't need much convincing, the base instinct of thirst easily overpowering his concerns for Vaine. He braced himself right at the end of the water, claws digging into the sand surrounding it, and lowered his muzzle into the surprisingly cool pool. The very first slurp of fresh water made him shiver with pleasure, finally slaking his thirst, and he drank deeply in greedy mouthfuls, the sensation utterly invigorating. He felt like what he'd imagine a tree felt like after a long drought, blossoming after a sudden shower.

And something inside him did indeed blossom. With the immediate risk of dying dealt with, his body moved on to the second most important thing; reproduction. He didn't immediately notice it, busy as he was with the ecstasy of quenching his thirst, but that alluring feminine slit between his legs swelled up, signposting his readiness for breeding. Lowering his tail wouldn't help either, not as his juices started to flow, those pheromones that could so easily lure any male to mate with him slowly spreading in the air.

And someone did take notice. The wyvern had been slowly circling close, worried about the two intruders drinking his water. Yet, those worries were quickly forgotten once he, nostrils twitching, caught that intoxicating scent of a hen ready for mating. As intelligent as the wyverns could be, they were still feral beasts at heart, and there were things they couldn't resist. This was one of them.

When Cai finally finished drinking, feeling almost bloated with water, Vaine took his place, her focus narrowing entirely to that slowly shrinking pool as she drank from it like a wild animal. She didn't notice the wyvern landing, softly, in the sand behind them. Cai did, but before he could say anything, his voice was choked by the sight of the beast's eager maleness, bobbing proudly in the air, displaying his readiness in turn. And the scent. Oh, the wonderful scent of a lusty male, it made his frills instinctively flare, his tail nudging up with a mind of its own as that musky fragrance filled his nostrils. Normally he disliked the smell of wyverns, but then and there, it didn't smell like musk and swamp-water; it smelled like raw virility, a swooping sensation in his lower belly demanding that he present himself. And he did.

The wyvern, pleased that this strange hen was so receptive to his advances, stepped closer, and trilled happily as Cai turned, presenting his eager hindquarters. The fact that the dragon smelled vaguely like a male as well didn't bother him; his fertility, and thereby his true nature, was obvious enough, his mound puffy with heat and smelling the part. Cai didn't resist as he stuck his muzzle right under his tail, nostrils flaring against his drenched slit. The first slow lick along his needy femininity made him gasp with lust and he pushed back, grinding that sensitive spot between his legs against the beautiful feral lizard's probing tongue, wanting more. Nothing else mattered, not the consequences or the fact that he was only a wyvern; not with how that reptilian tongue had him quivering as it lapped up his arousal, drinking that tangy, gooey heat-slime from him just as he'd drunk from the pool earlier.

The beast couldn't resist that open invitation for long, and soon, with a beat of its wings, it mounted the needy "dragoness", its weight resting on Cai's back even as that bare bestial cock nudged under his tail, trying to find that sweet, wet slit. The hen wanted to be bred, and he was all too happy to help him out, to get him fat with a clutch of eggs. All it'd take was for him to sink into his body, a few moments of rutting, and a blissful, sticky, insemination. One that'd surely end his quest in a happy haze of maternal thoughts and instincts.

With a greedy thrust, the wyvern drove his throbbing shaft into that wet, warm bliss, trilling with pleasure as Cai's inner walls engulfed him, clutching along that potent cockmeat like hens in season always did. Precum leaked from his tip, mingling with his feminine juices, and feeling even that made Cai clench around him with carnal, mindless need. Submitting himself to the male had felt good, and being filled by him as nature intended felt even better, promising to plunge him into incoherent ecstasy in just a few moments. And so, Cai thrust back against his lover, forcing that shaft deeper into himself, until it was pressed against his very cervix, shuddering upon feeling another splash of precum somewhere deep inside him.

He began humping immediately, sawing those ridges into Cai's fertile body. Each thrust made his heat-struck body sing out in pleasure as he mated him with bestial vigour. Cai felt his shaft buck deep inside his fertile body, more slippery preseed pumping into him, a promise of what was to come, both of them trembling in anticipation. The cock throbbed again as the wyvern bit his neck, growling and trilling as the beast sought to claim his hen fully, already getting close to thoroughly breeding him, Cai's obvious need milking him greedily, just as eager to receive as the male was to give. Their bodies were working in perfect primal harmony towards that inevitable conclusion of their mating.

Suddenly, right in the middle of their carnal union, the wyvern froze mid-thrust, and went limp with a choked squawk, first slumping down on Cai's back and then slipping off, falling into the sand like a boneless slab of meat.

Cai opened his eyes with a guttural whine of disappointment, his slit still clenching with wanton neediness even after the wyvern slipped out. His eyes darted to the male, who was convulsing in the sand, that beautiful cock that'd promised him relief slowly retreating back into his body. The heat returned with a vengeance, almost making him double over, the burning need to be bred so overwhelming that he almost forced himself on the incapacitated male, crying out in frustration when he failed to get hard enough to sink back inside him to scratch that itch.

Then, a sudden cooling sensation washed over his feverish mind. He turned towards Vaine, who was staring at him with a scowl on her face, moving her fingers as if manipulating something that wasn't there. With some semblance of common sense restored to him, Cai found himself blushing, realizing what had almost happened, embarrassed by how easily he'd given in. It'd only been his mate's intervention that saved him; had he been left to his own devices he'd probably be happily rubbing his freshly impregnated belly, dripping with wyvern-seed. The thought sent another pleasurable shiver through his form, but this time, he could resist it.

"It's not your fault," Vaine growled, clutching her head with her other paw. She knew fully well it wasn't, but that didn't stop the frustration. The fact was, of course, that it was entirely her fault, but pride made it hard to admit that, even if she knew it was the truth.

She made a sweeping motion and the wyvern quickly recovered, opting to clumsily take flight and escape rather than fight whatever had incapacitated it, survival taking precedence over reproduction.

Suppressing a freshly bloomed heat was like trying to hold back the tides, but she managed, if barely so, steering her partner's thoughts away from lust for the time being. She wasn't as experienced at manipulating minds as true black dragons, but given her natural connection with the green drake, she could manage it.

"I have no idea how you manage to resist getting bred every time you go into heat," Cai muttered. Each time, for him, it was as if I switch was flipped inside his mind, one that reduced him into a quivering mess.

"Experience," Vaine simply replied, eliciting another frustrated sigh from her mate. She remembered how overwhelming the heats had been at first. Her parents even had to restrain her, once. But as she grew older, she'd gradually learned to control herself. The same self-control that she was now soothing the dragon's mind with.

Maintaining that spell took energy. It was nowhere near a permanent solution, but hopefully, once the initial rush of his heat had passed, Cai would be able to resist. And if not, Vaine would opt to suppress it again. She just hoped that they'd be done here while she still had the mental fortitude to do so.

With his mind clear for the moment, at least relatively so, they set off again, with Cai leading the way. The oasis wasn't far from the village, and although trekking through the sands was by no means pleasant, soon enough they could see a settlement on the horizon. Another wyvern swept overhead, probably scenting the dragon's heat, but with his mate soothing his thoughts, he had no trouble thinking of more pressing matters.

As they approached the village, though, the exotic nature of these far-away lands became more apparent. The architecture was rather unlike that of the west, the buildings made of clay, hardened by dragonfire, rather than the usual wood and stone that Dragonfort preferred. Even then, it was obvious that this wasn't the richest of communities, but nobody paid the dragon and fox much mind as they arrived either way, the residents quite busy with their everyday lives. Though with how rarely they must've gotten any outside visitors, Cai could feel the occasional inquiring eyes on himself. Vaine, doubly so. But nobody approached them.

There was an inn for shelter, at least, and the desert-drake owner almost jumped through a window at the sight of Cai entering before recomposing herself. She looked much like the others; muted brown scales, just as fine as they'd heard. They were smaller than western dragons too, and their frills seemed wider, flaring up around their entire heads when scared. But they were clearly dragons nonetheless, the scents familiar enough, even if they were different.

Understanding them proved to be more difficult. Cai understood bits and pieces of what the innkeeper said; Vaine understood nothing, especially with her magical reserves drained by keeping up her presence in the dragon-king's mind.

The gist of it was relatively simple, however. She wanted money, and Cai, despite his status, had none on him. Someone else, lounging in a private corner of the inn, noticed them as they tried to reach an understanding, however, and she recognized Cai immediately. She'd been expecting the king to arrive with an entourage of soldiers, and yet, here he was, perhaps hoping that his unassuming appearance would hide him in plain sight. It would, at least to the average southerner. But not her. So she sprung into action.

"My apologies for intruding," she spoke, fluent in the common dragon-tongue that Cai preferred. She addressed the innkeeper. "Surely you have a room for these two," she continued, fluently switching to her own language. "Weary travellers all the way from beyond the sands!" she continued.

Neither Cai nor Vaine caught onto her intonation, but the innkeeper understood it very well, knowing exactly who she was. It wasn't a request, and she had no option but to oblige her. She was speaking in the imperative tone; one of many linguistic features that the western tongue lacked entirely. That and the many other tones had led to many misunderstandings between the dragons in times past, but Dragonfort was young, with only few written records.

"And where are our manners? Surely there's plenty of water; let our guests drink," she spoke, giving the innkeeper a grin, showing off her almost shark-like teeth. Oh, the silver-scaled dragoness knew fully well that there was barely enough for the villagers themselves; there hadn't been any rain for years. But she didn't particularly care about them: what mattered was that this might be the opportunity she'd been looking for all her life.

"For that matter, where are my manners?" she continued, turning towards Cai. "I am Thorn. One of the... community leaders of this little village. What brings you here?"

Vaine quickly developed a distinct feeling of unease. She was distracted and exhausted, but not so much that she'd believe the dragoness' name to be that simple, given her high posture and eloquent speech, even in _her_language. She was not from this village, she knew that much. But her head felt sore and her thoughts ran like treacle with the constant drain of having to keep Cai under control. Hopefully, tomorrow he'd be able to handle himself. The initial bloom being nearly impossible to resist for any dragonkind, tending to result in clutches unless the sufferer was physically restrained, but after that... Cai wasn't weak-minded, not in the slightest, but he was still not used to having to resist his heats, always having had the option to simply let males take care of them, in the castle. Still, if she was to get anything done, he'd have to fend for himself.

"Where is here, exactly?" Cai asked.

"Sandstone. So named because we mine sandstone for Nazjatar," she replied. "If you came from the north, you'll not have seen the mines yet. I'd be delighted to show them to you," she offered, though she didn't think they'd actually take her up on it.

Indeed, Cai had no interest. What he wanted to know was how powerful this nation was, how he'd depose of the ruler, and how he'd find a male to- he shook his head. "No thank you. We're on our way towards the capital."

"You'll want to travel at night," Thorn suggested, while inwardly gleeful. There could only be one or perhaps two reasons as to why the king of Dragonfort would travel all the way to Nazjatar, and either of those reasons suited her plans just fine. "I'd suggest resting until the. Our gracious innkeeper will surely prepare a room for you," she continued, speaking a few words in her native language to the other dragoness, who quickly hurried into the back of the building.

There was a certain scent about Cai that she couldn't ignore, though. Not so pronounced, but yet alluring and tempting, and she couldn't quite place it. Unlike most dragonesses, Thorn - as she'd chosen to call herself - had the misfortune of being quite receptive to such needy fragrances. On one hand, she had no interest in males, not typically so, but on the other, Cai's dual nature was something she'd never encountered before. It was distracting, and she found her eyes drawn towards his tail, despite willing herself to look elsewhere. Irritating. But she'd manage.

"What brings you here, travellers?" she asked, attempting to distract herself. She already knew the answer, but there was a certain value in making sure the two didn't know that she knew.

"We have matters to attend to in the capital," replied Cai. He was, despite her best efforts, getting the feeling that she knew more than she was letting on. He wasn't as good at this game as Vaine, but he could play it, especially after years of ruling his kingdom. "How about yourself? I can't imagine someone as well-spoken as you would spend much time here, even if you are the ruler," he continued.

"I'm no ruler, but you'd be right on the rest. I oversee the transportation of what we mine to Nazjatar," she retorted. "I'd be delighted to take you on a caravan, or if you're in a hurry, I might even guide you. The desert can be an unforgiving place."

Cai concluded two things. She had an interest in taking them there - given that a busy foreman would never abandon her post in order to act as a guide for a pair of strangers - and that she wasn't a foreman, who'd likely not be allowed to. Nor was she a 'community leader' as she'd claimed before. Both would be busy positions. But what she was, as well as her motivations, weren't clear. She certainly wasn't a bandit; none of them were this eloquent. Nor was she, he figured, an assassin. Her scales were well-kempt, with an ardent, almost pearlescent glow where the sunlight from outside reflected against them. She was some manner of noble. But what kind of game was she playing?

Thorn had the advantage there. She knew fully well that Cai and his fox were on their way to meet with the queen, likely to depose her, or try to. And she intended to use that opportunity. But the heady scent of the male's heat hung heavy in the air, and he noticed her nostrils twitching and flaring. He intended to use that to his advantage.

"We'd be delighted to take you up on that offer," he smiled, giving a slight bow of his head. Whatever she was intending, it'd be less of a problem than another desert journey without clear directions. That, and he'd probably figure out a way to defuse her plans. Cai turned around, addressing Vaine with trivial matters, subtly raising his tail to give Thorn a plausibly deniable view of his slit, undoubtedly puffy and swollen, despite him not feeling much of it.

Vaine was trying to focus, her vision starting to blur and a dull, pounding headache slowly developing. She couldn't quite follow the conversation the other two were having, but she had to hold out at least one day so that her mate would - hopefully - be able to control his heat. They excused themselves, retreating into the prepared room in the inn, with Cai making sure to sway his hips a little extra has he walked, shivering as he realized he was probably rather wet. All the better to entice Thorn with.

She hated the fact that she was so easily affected by it, but the western dragons were always so readily displaying their needs. Her own kind only bloomed in rain, during mating season, and at all other times their slits, both male and female, were little more than small gaps in their scales. It wasn't that season yet, but the way rivulets of clear arousal would ooze their way down from Cai's folds had a similar effect on her. She'd always had a vivid imagination, one that fed into her ambitions as well, but having such an easy time fantasizing was always a double-edged sword. The wetness between Cai's hind legs reminded her of the rain, of mating seasons - and thus it had the same effect, if only to a lesser degree.

Thorn shook her head. She'd let the two rest. She'd waited years; one day longer was nothing.

Caizoth, she thought, as she left the inn without giving its keeper a second glance. The egg-maker. It was a silly title, but it spoke true of his intentions. They would be trying to replace the queen, one way or the other. She wouldn't be receptive to their advances; not if they tried replacing her the same way that Cai had taken over Dragonfort. That was good. But they would distract her, long enough for Thorn to put her own plans into action.

Her mother was holding the rains back in her disapproval of the baser instincts of dragonkind. She'd never felt much in the way of lust herself, and upon becoming queen, she'd made sure to deprive others of those pleasures as well. It'd been a gradual process of the mating seasons occurring less and less often, until they eventually stopped entirely. Without those pleasures she'd been free to divert their attention to a different pursuit: war. But she was slowly killing Nazjatar, and doubly so the villages elsewhere, each of them slowly withering and dying, Sandstone included. But sandstone was a worthless little hole in the desert, existing only to mine its namesake. She looked around herself, at every haphazardly constructed clay or stone dwelling. The only reason she was here was because nobody came to Sandstone. Nobody except miners, and they didn't care if she was there, being far too preoccupied with their endless drudgery.

Thorn wasn't as ambitious as her mother, or at least that's what she told herself as she walked through the drought-stricken village. Well, she was, perhaps. But she had no interest in conquering the world. She simply wanted to rule, to live a life of luxury like the dragons of old. She'd only ever managed to mate once before the drought, and she found herself enjoying it far more than the others, and certainly more than her mother ever had. It'd made her more or less become an outcast; half due to her mother's outrage, and half because she wanted more. Without the rains to drive her urges, nobody was willing, nor could she muster the will to go through all the effort. Cai was an odd case, in that regard, the thought of his feminine wetness all over her snout exciting the young princess even outside of mating season.

The inn, itself, was modestly decorated, much like the rest of the village. It was also entirely too warm, but at least Cai and Vaine where sheltered from the scorching sun. With how exhausted they both were, rest came easily despite the oppressive heat. Vaine waited for Cai to start snoring before finally letting go of his mind, certain that he wouldn't get himself bred while she was out. And the moment she laid her head down on a rolled-up blanket, she was gone.

Thorn, in turn, found herself increasingly preoccupied with fantasies of burying her muzzle against that soaked, tender spot under Cai's tail. It was starting to get distracting; she'd not felt any arousal for so long that a fantasy alone was enough to leave her knees weak and her thoughts muddled. Nobody else had that problem, here, because there was nothing to be aroused by. But Cai was displaying his excitement so openly, so lewdly, that it was infectious to her.

Maybe indulging would help clear her mind. Yes, it was a twisted kind of logic, but she was already growing wet by the time she'd made her way back to the inn, unconsciously licking her lips as vivid, perverted thoughts filled her mind and body with tingling arousal. The innkeeper saw Thorn enter and dutifully ignored her presence as she made her way to where Cai was sleeping. Well, Cai and Vaine both, but Thorn's attention was focused on only one of them. Her heart was beating rapidly as she approached, the smell of his heat overwhelmingly strong so close to her sleeping form.

Cai was splayed out on the pillows, out cold, with her slit readily on display, and Thorn felt a trickle of her own juices slowly running down her inner thigh. Just a quick taste, she told herself. She couldn't risk waking them up, after all. She lowered herself onto the pillows until her nose was mere inches away from that inviting, swollen slit, the aroma intoxicating and the sight making her mouth water.

Sometimes, she hated the fact that she was only attracted to other females. This was not one of those times.

Thorn's tongue snuck out and she could practically _taste_Cai's heated lust on the air, her body trembling with excitement. There was no way he'd wake up easily after a journey like that, right? So she could indulge herself just this once.

She made contact, her tongue slowly dragging over Cai's femininity, the tangy heat-seasoning quickly spreading over her tastebuds, feeling those heated petals quiver against her tongue. Thorn had to fight to suppress a moan, that overwhelming influx of pheromones making her own body respond in spades. She practically felt her wetness drip into her clothing and thanked her lucky stars she was wearing something, because otherwise she'd leave a lewd, lusty trail to lead the two to her.

Gods, how she wanted to press her own slit into Cai's muzzle and force the gender-confused dragoness - because that's what she really was, her instincts told her - to eat her out over and over again while she did the same to her.

Her tongue probed into that intoxicating, soaked slit, just barely spreading Cai's folds to touch those impossibly warm, velveteen walls, shuddering as she did. She let her juices pool in her maw only to swallow it all, but some dripped down her chin as well, spreading that wonderful scent all over herself as she worshipped Cai's femininity orally. Maybe once her plan had been put into motion she could do this more often. Like all the time. Maybe she'd just keep her head between her tail and never leave, taking good care of every drop of nectar she produced, eating her to orgasm after orgasm until the "king" didn't think at all. Oh, she'd keep her in permanent heat so she was as helpless to resist letting her slurp that juicy cunt, just as Thorn was helpless to resist licking and sucking on every inch of plump, fertile flesh down there.

No. She had to focus. Cai would wake up if she went much further. She could not risk that, and so despite her mind screaming at her to drink deeply of her arousal, she forced herself to pull way through sheer force of will. Later, she told herself, she'd give into those urges fully. But not now.

Yet even as she made her way back to her own temporary den, she couldn't stop thinking of that flavour, her dreams - once she final slept - warm, wet and lusty, the pheromones having seeped deep into her mind, branding every waking thought of with Cai's alluring, feminine tang.

For Cai himself, sleep passed in an instant, but he awoke to silence and cold. Vaine even found herself shivering, and the sensation was _exquisite_in contrast to the previous day's heat. She put on the few clothes that she'd kept - most of them had been lost alongside their companions - covering her voluptuous form, pulling a shirt over her chest to warm up her body, nipples stiff in the cold night air.

Cai hadn't rested quite as well, plagued with dreams of raising his tail and being rutted by male after male, each filling her with their wonderful seed, fantasies of his belly growing round and heavy with eggs, only to awake to a gnawing emptiness inside his womb. Still, the cold air soothed those feelings, at least a little, and he realized he could probably handle it. At least until a male stuck his snout under his tail again.

There wasn't much left to do in the village, and so they found Thorn and set off towards the capital.

The desert felt like a different place at night, with an almost eerie silence tangibly hovering over it all, and the skies studded with stars, more clearly so that anywhere else they'd been. Vaine found it invigorating, soothing even - black dragons lived in much colder environments than this, and although she wasn't fully one, it still spoke to some part of her that she didn't interact with much. Once she'd had a moment to adjust to the chill, she didn't mind it. For his part, Cai was cold and shivering, but still appreciated it in contrast to the heat he'd been suffering from, both within and without, what felt like only moments earlier.

Yet none of that changed how ready his body was, and although he was alright with it for the moment, it was becoming increasingly difficult for Thorn to ignore. She walked in front, hoping to avoid seeing that luscious slit under his tail, persistently damp with arousal, affecting her just the same way it'd affect any male. Yet every now and then a stray gust of wind would carry the scent into her nostrils. And each time she'd greedily, instinctively inhale it. She could still taste that nectar on her lips, making her body tingle with excitement.

They passed a building that neither could quite identify, a fair distance from the town itself, oddly ornate and rather large compared to the dwellings. The outside of it was decorated with abstract carvings of dragons mating, but from the way sand had piled up around both the entrance and the walls it was obviously it hadn't been used in a while.

"It's a mating hall," Thorn commented, but didn't stop walking. "During mating season, they're used for communal ruts. As in, anyone without a specific partner in mind can go find a comfortable spot and have their heats taken care of."

"Why aren't they being used?" Vaine asked, Cai suddenly preoccupied by idle fantasies of doing just what the dragoness described.

"The queen is holding back the rains. She thinks sexuality distracts us from our everyday duties. Even though hardly anyone here mates outside of season anyway," Thorn replied.

Was that the reason she tried to kill me, then? It would make sense considering how much Dragonfort relied on sex to get things done in general. Her, in particular. It was an elegant solution to so many problems when it came to dragons, certainly better than war and bloodshed, but if someone zealously disapproved of such acts... well, her actions still wouldn't make much sense, but Vaine could at least see a hint of logic in them.

"What do you know about the queen?" Vaine asked. "We are here to see her, so anything you can share might be useful." There's that diplomatic approach. Nailed it. The vixen could barely remember even meeting the dragoness, and Cai had been too preoccupied to share his thoughts beyond that there was something off about her. That much she already knew. What she didn't know was who she actually was, but she knew that the dragoness knew who Cai and herself were, that much was obvious. There was no way any dragon would be so helpful to a pair of strangers in a strange land. The question was what her plans were. Nefarious ones, one doubt.

But this was Vaine's element, and the dragoness was out of her depth.

"She lives in her palace while the desert spreads, hoarding what little water we still have. Plans to take over the neighbouring kingdoms. Gods only know how, when no new soldiers are born, but such is the way of zealots," Thorn replied. All of that was true. She did, deeply, loathe her mother. The "queen", as everyone knew her now, was a nameless figure of authority, but beneath that carefully cultivated exterior was merely her mother, Silverscale by name, at least in the western tongue. But nowadays, she was the tyrant-queen whipping the southern lands into a frustrated frenzy of militarism, depriving them of pleasures that she had no desire to feel, herself. But if Thorn had her way, she would, especially with the help of her new, depraved friends.

"Why is she doing all of that?" Vaine asked.

Truthfully, she didn't know. It was some kind of zealous, misguided dislike of carnal acts, but her mother had never truly elaborated on it. Thorn did know why she'd sent that assassin after Vaine, but she couldn't actually tell her that, or even let her know that she knew who she was.

And so, all she offered her in response was a half-hearted shrug as their company of three made its way towards the gleaming capital of Nazjadar, towards those marbled walls and storied chambers of the queen's palace. And towards her rightful place on the throne, with Cai as her personal servant.