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Arla swished her tail from side to side as she let out a sigh, the dragoness's blue feathers along her tail tip running and folding over pebbles and stones. The weather was good this night for the other dragons at their annual autumn festival, with just a hint of the coolness of the coming winter creeping below the warm down feathers lining Arla's underbelly. The evening sun cast an almost crimson light on the plateau as it fell, and as Arla raised a wing, it seemed to turn violet in the haze.

She folded the wing back in and let out another sigh as the voices and shouts of playing dragons reached her ears, flicking at the sound. Her slim neck craned as she turned towards the source -- further out on the plateau, maybe half a dozen dragons a bit below her age were chatting and laughing, dancing with their wings outstretched as they romped around the grass until their scales, fur, or feathers were stained as green as it was. A few flew in circles around the others, rolling as they tackled one another, pairs of young lovers twining tails when they crashed into the dirt.

Arla herself preened a few of her wing feathers, brushing away dirt that clotted their sky-blue color. It wasn't that she didn't want to join them, as loud and as obnoxious as they could be. She didn't mind a bit of dirt and grime. But such behavior wasn't suitable for a dragon of her hatching. She couldn't let herself look unkept in front of the other dragons around the area, could she? At least, that was what her father had told her. How embarrassed would he be if someone spotted the daughter of such a renowned dragon covered in mud?

So, she remained to the side, watching her peers play as she twisted grass in her claws, pulling out a few blades at a time. She sighed once more. It was only a few times per year that all the dragons in their mountain range and the surrounding areas got together for an event like this, and she'd be spending it splitting blades of grass.

Arla took the risk of laying down in it, the soft feathers of her belly tickled as her slender neck stretched out until her snout rested in the dirt. Her eyes watched the tails and legs of the dragons in front of her, not giving her even a quick glance in return. Scales whipped from the maddened frenzy of the night, and Arla turned her head to look away, a stray leaf crinkling under her nose. Uncouth of her? Perhaps, but she a bit too bored to care.

With the last light of the sun fading, Arla used it to examine the rest of the festival. The older dragons gathered around the sides of the plateau, many of them quietly conversing with each other on whatever news had recently approached them in the last year. New human settlements on the northern frontiers, a drought in the west. She spotted her father, Aridan, engaged in what appeared to be a vigorous conversation with a elderly dragon covered in scales as grey as slate. Mated pairs of dragons from a few years under Arla's age and up chatted with each other while tiny hatchlings ran between their legs, treating their parents' limbs as small obstacle courses.

Arla watched as two of the little beasts rushed off towards the side of the cliff, her heart momentarily skipping a beat as they stumbled over the edge. Her feathers stood stiff for a second, before the hatchlings rose up from the side, tiny wings flapping as they struggled to regain their lost height. They glided down into their irritated mother's back, climbing into her fur. Arla let out a sigh of relief.

Her eyes continued to wander as the evening turned to dusk, the sun finally dipping below the horizon, her feathers as dark as her father's beneath the great sea-like sky. Her gaze finally caught on a dragon she hadn't seen before -- a young male her age, sitting on his haunches. His leathery wings shifted every so often, giving Arla a glimpse of the thick golden scales covering most of his body. She stared for a moment at the unusual horns resting on the back of his skull, long and skinny poles like the antlers of a deer, ending in half a dozen points.

Apparently, she stared a little bit too long, and his snout turned over towards her with a slightly confused expression. Their eyes met for a few moments before Arla could hold the awkward gaze no longer, and she lowered her eyes back to the grass. One of her wings shifted over her snout as if to hide her embarrassment. Still, she risked another glance at the newcomer, her amethyst eyes peeking out between long feathers to see if he'd turned away.

He hadn't, and the golden dragon cocked his head, unsure what Arla was trying to communicate to him with the odd movements of her wing. Arla wasn't quite sure about it herself. Her head raised up and she lowered her wing, and she thought she saw a smile of amusement form on his snout, sharp fangs poking out in a manner more goofy than intimidating. His tail shifted from side, and the gold started to walk towards her, swaying as Arla sat up with a start.

"Are you alright?" he asked, a few quiet tones of a laugh breaking through his voice. His wings folded inwards as he sat back on his haunches, tilting his head again. "You look . . . unimpressed."

"Me?" Arla asked, ruffling up the feathers on her neck as she stared up at the gold. He was finely built, a head-height above her, though it may have just been his unusual horns creating the illusion of it. Thick golden breastplates covered his chest, and as Arla looked down to avoid meeting his gaze, she saw gleaming sharp talons on his hindpaws, tapping back and forth in the dirt in an almost nervous manner. She watched for a moment as his claws moved up and down, only for his tail to sweep itself in front of his hindlegs, golden scales with a few faded burn scars obscuring her view. "You're not unimpressive."

"What?" the gold blinked, shifting his weight back, trying to process Arla's answer. He laughed, this time a bit more uncomfortable than amused. "I meant more this get-together than me, but thank you for the compliment? I'd prefer to be not unimpressive than unimpressive, I'd think."

"Oh, right, duh, the autumn festival!" Arla laughed, as uncomfortable as he was for the moment there. She waved her wing out across the plateau. "It's just not my thing. Except for one year I caught a sniffle, I've been every year. You get used to it. Are you also . . . unimpressed?"

"A bit less so," the golden dragon smiled, relaxing enough that his tail slowly rolled across the grass, untensing. "I've never seen so many dragons in one place before. I didn't even know there were so many living in these mountains; I've only met a couple annoyed neighbors. I just moved in, and don't really know anyone here yet. Demax, by the way."

"Demax," Arla repeated, tasting the name on her tongue. "I'm Arla, so I guess that makes one more dragon you know." She stretched out one of her wings towards him, expecting him to respond in kind. He just stared, somewhat unsure what she was doing. Arla rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue. "You're supposed to brush your wing against mine. It's a friendly introduction gesture here, if you're meeting a new dragon in peace. If not in peace . . . well, that's what claws and fangs are for."

"Oh, well, I'll make sure to remember that next time," Demax joked. He placed his leathery wing over Arla's feathered one, hiding her under its folds.

Arla felt her neck tense up in surprise as Demax laid his wing across hers, the cool leathered membrane reaching all the way across to her back, ruffling the feathers there. A tingle ran up and down her spine. After a moment of shock, she stared into the golden dragon's bright green eyes, realizing he held no knowledge of what he was doing. She pulled her own wing back to her side, before checking that her father hadn't seen that.

"It's more supposed to be a quick brush against the side of my wing," Arla chuckled, shaking her head at the faux pas. "A moment's touch, no more! Holding it over me . . . well, just don't try doing that on any of the older males. They might take offense."

"Oh!" Demax winced, whipping his wing back to his side so fast Arla was worried he might snap his own fragile bones. "I'm so sorry!"

Arla shook her head. "No, don't be! I should have explained it better. Here, let's try it again. For practice."

Demax nodded, and the two touched the edges of their wings to one another, this time, just a simple friendly touch. Still, Arla had to admit it: as surprising as it was, she'd quite enjoyed the feel of his wing on her backside, the gentle rub on her feathers. She tried to keep herself from thinking anything more of it; it was an accident, nothing more.

"So, what brings you over here?" she asked, now a bit more curious. "If you're trying to meet more dragons, I'm probably not your best choice. I can't say I'm the most social here."

"Crowds make me nervous," Demax admitted, flicking his tail. "Especially crowds full of dragons who all know each other but I don't know them at all. And what if, stars forbid, I accidentally held my wing too long on one of them? You seemed a bit less intimidating, but if you're not looking for company, now I know not to introduce myself with my claws."

Arla gave Demax's claws a quick glance. They seemed a bit less nervous around her than before, the pace of their movements slow, like the heartbeat of a mother curled around her eggs. "I don't mind if you stay," she replied. "Honestly? Right now, I'm bored enough I would talk to a squirrel."

"I can try," Demax grinned, getting a strange look from Arla. He suddenly tucked his wings, and put his front paws to his mouth. Sticking his tail in the air, he hopped around on his hindlegs before reaching down to pick up a rock, chittering as he pretended to bite into it like a nut.

Arla giggled at Demax as the dragon pretended to be a squirrel, walking around in a circle while digging into the ground, hiding one of the rocks there. She quickly stuck out her wings, trying to hide the gold from the rest of the dragons.

"Someone might see you!" Arla laughed, getting another chitter in response from Demax. "It would be embarrassing!"

"All the better!" Demax clucked, getting back on all fours and wiggling out his wings. "At least I have one skill!"

Arla let out an exaggerated huff. "I'd be embarrassed! Do you really want your first impression here to be the drake who acts like a squirrel?"

"Could be worse," Demax grinned, flicking out his forked tongue. "At least I didn't accidentally set my tail on fire this time."

Arla rolled her eyes and shook her head from left to right, lowering her wings. She gave him another look, his golden scales now coated in moonlight. His thick neck craned from side to side as she looked down at his tail, just a hint of small burn scars at the end like she remembered. She scanned up its length, the golden tail thickening until it met his flank, his hindlegs thick and muscular. He might have been a goof, but he was a strong goof. She couldn't help but grin as she wondered if it was from spending so much time dancing on his hindlegs practicing his squirrel imitation.

She raised her head to see that he was eying her in a similar fashion, and whipped her thin tail from side to side, showing it off to him. Demax quickly turned away, realizing that she'd spotted his gaze. Arla gave him a toothy smile. So he could get embarrassed!

"So, why are you here if you're bored?" Demax asked, moving the unsaid subject away from each other's prying glances. "I thought this gathering was optional. Well, more 'was told it was optional and you're annoying and shouldn't go' than thought. I'm doubting you came here for my famous animal impressions?"

"Oh, my father helps set these things up, and wouldn't let me skip it. I'm glad I didn't, though. Where else could I have seen a dragon acting like a squirrel?"

"I can do more than just squirrels," Demax clucked, Arla unsure if that was more of a suggestion or a threat.

The dragoness shook her head with a wince. "Maybe some other time, when we're not in sight of half the range's population. Do you do anything else other than impressions?"

Demax's eyes lit up for a moment at that question. "Well," he mused, "I didn't bring any of it here, but I like to make art with scales that I've shed. I've got a bit more time on my claws that I know what to do with, you see."

"Scales?" Arla asked, peering to give them a closer look. "That's an odd choice of medium. I'm surprised you use them instead of gold, or silver, or gems."

Demax shrugged his wings, the small force of air brushing against a few of the feathers on Arla's snout. "I don't have a large hoard, so not a lot of that to spare. Scale is easy to work with because it's harder to melt than metals like iron, which I can get from human scrapyards pretty easily. Often times, I'll melt the iron first, and shape that into something and attach the scales into it while it's cooling. Golden scales can sometimes be better than gold itself."

"Wow," Arla replied, her eyes wide open. She admired Demax's ingenuity -- her father could have never made anything beautiful without the most expensive materials in his hoard to make it beautiful for him, but even without riches, Demax could still make art just from his own body and the cheapest metals. "I have to admit, I'm pretty curious now. Maybe I'll be able to see one someday."

"Yeah!" Demax grinned. "I'll bring one to show you, next time we see each other!"

"Next time," Arla said, half to herself, and half to Demax, curious what those words would mean to her. She felt her wings give a small flutter alongside her heart. "I . . . I'd like that. Showing me."

Demax's forepaws lifted up and down, and he turned his head to the side, his antler-like horns brushing against his own neck. He seemed slightly puzzled, like he was unsure how much he should read into what Arla had said. He decided not to pursue it further. "So, what about you?" he asked. "What's life in the range like?"

"Oh," Arla replied, unable to hide the dissatisfaction dripping in her own words. Her tail curled inwards, until she felt her tail-feathers touch her down underbelly. "It's . . . living. My father keeps me under his wing. My mother was slain in a human raid many years ago, and he's tried his best to keep me from the same fate."

"I'm so sorry," Demax grimaced sympathetically, though Arla could see the discomfort in the way his excited talons held still and solemn. She winced. She hadn't wanted to cast their conversation in this sort of darkness already.

"It's fine," Arla quickly responded with a gentle smile. "I was barely out of the egg, and hardly remember her. It's a common enough fate for a dragon these days, with human settlements encroaching like fire. I don't know how much longer even this range will be exempt." Arla paused. Demax had likely come here for that very reason. What would he do if he learned that the fragile stability they had here would likely end before the next generation of eggs had their own hatchlings? Would he leave, and search for another home? Arla tensed her talons. She hadn't wanted to move their talk to politics either.

"I do other things, though," Arla continued, trying to change the subject again. "My father has a huge collection of books. You could even call it a hoard. I spend a lot of time reading them. I love the ones on astronomy the best, with star charts and the motions of the stars across the sky." She felt her head glance up involuntarily, lifting her front paws up until she was standing on her hindlegs, her wings tucked into her side as a gentle wind brushed her feathers. Clouds covered the dusk sky, and she could only spot the brightest specks of light peeking out from their cracks every so often. "I don't get to see them much, though. It's difficult to catch more than a glimpse where we live."

"Really?" Demax asked, following her gaze to the heavens. "Is it the snow? I've only seen barely a dusting so far."

Arla laughed and shook her head. "If only," she sighed. "We live on the side of a volcano. Most nights the sky is covered in smog. The forest south of us is far clearer, both the sky and the air, though the volcano's light still drowns out the dimmest stars. I make an excuse to go hunting there as often as possible, but my father gets angry if I try to spend the night. He thinks I'll run into humans."

"There are humans there?" Demax questioned, slightly alarmed. "So close to your home?"

Arla snorted. "I wish. It would give us a reason to move away from that awful place. They would see me in the daylight better anyways! It's ridiculous." She peered her head over Demax, glancing around his wings. "There he is," she said, pointing a foreclaw to a feathered dragon with feathers a few shades darker than Arla's own. "My father, Aridan. Don't get on his bad side. He's one of the most respected dragons in the range, and by far the richest. He'll make sure you know that, too -- he's as stuck up as a young male who just killed his first human, no offense, and will tout the size of his hoard and the list of all the cities he raided in his youth to anyone who doesn't throw themselves into our volcano first."

"I see," Demax said, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. "There were a few dragons like that where I came from." The golden dragon puffed out his chest like he was about to make flame, and opened his eyeridges so wide it was like his scales were about to burst. "Look at me!" he mocked, his voice lowered to a deep rumble with an air of haughtiness. "I've got so much gold I paint my scales with it! Then I get bored and paint them silver the next day! The only fangpicks I use are the bones of princesses, of which I have plenty to spare!" He wiggled his talons in the air, pretending to pick out a chunk of meat from between his fangs.

"Stop it!" Arla squealed, bursting out with laughter, her wings flapping so hard she almost felt her claws leave the ground. "What if he sees you?"

"See me?" Demax asked, waddling from side to side. "I don't allow simpletons to see me! They're only allowed to smell me, because the only meals I eat are--"

"No more!" Arla cried out, unable to contain herself any longer. If she kept laughing, she might just burst! She darted forward, wrapping her foreclaws around Demax's snout so tight he almost bit his tongue. He stumbled backwards on his hindlegs, his tail thrashing as he extended his wings to try and keep himself upright.

It didn't work, and the two went crashing down together into the grass, Arla holding on tight to the gold's snout, keeping him from saying another word. Arla felt his wings suddenly flap across hers as he tried to get one out from where it was trapped beneath his side. She craned her head away, finally letting go of his snout with another laugh as he turned to look at her, the two dragons lying on the ground. His green eyes peered out from behind his snout, fully focused on Arla's own.

Arla breathed in, her crest-feathers ruffling as Demax's foresty scent touched her nose, like the smell of burning wood. Her heart seemed to speed up two-fold, pounding in her chest as she felt the scales of his tail laid across her own. It was like her fire-stores had ignited, her entire body going up in a warm and painless flame. As she felt Demax's own heartbeat through the end of his tail, curled just the smallest bit, she wondered if he'd placed it there intentionally, or if it had just fallen that way. She wasn't sure she cared.

Then, a shadow caught her eye, and Arla quickly whipped her tail back, scooching away from Demax with a startle. She felt herself wince as she saw a small flutter of hurt in Demax's eyes, confusion, wondering if there was something he'd done wrong. She looked up as she got back to her paws, and Demax followed her gaze, until it met the eyes of a dark-blue feathered dragon, standing over him with a glare.

"Arla?" her father asked, a hint of fang appearing on his snout. "Who is this?"

Aridan stood a few head-heights over his daughter, his wings as blue as the ocean. Long, pointed feathers ran from his wingtips, and where Arla had only a small crest of feathers, two slender pointed horns poked out from the back of his head. His gaze narrowed on Demax, his head slowly turning from left to right, examining the golden dragon like he was a slab of meat.

"H-his name is Demax!" Arla quickly replied, wiping the grass off her wings as she suddenly regained her composure. She lifted her head up high and puffed warm air out the end of her snout, fluffing her feathers as haughtily as she could. "He's new here. Father, I was just telling him about the nearby area, and warning him of the human settlements."

Demax uncomfortably squirmed out from under the looming blue dragon's head, Aridan's eyes piercing right through him. He get back up to his paws, quickly giving Arla's father a polite bow of his head, so low the tip of his snout touched the grass once more. "I'm glad to meet you, sir." He stretched out his wing like Arla had suggested, hoping for Aridan to respond in kind.

Aridan's feathered wings didn't budge, stuck stiff to his side as if someone had tied them there. The edges of his maw twitched as he slowly turned his head to his daughter. "It's taken you an awful long time to explain where the settlements are. They're not that hard to find. Demax, where are you living?"

"A small cave on one of the larger mountains, sir," Demax winced, picking a blade of grass out from his fangs as he sat up on his haunches. "Due north of here."

"So not far from the human borderlands," Aridan answered, unimpressed. "I'd be surprised if you hadn't seen them already. Arla, with me. It's about time for us to be off, and I'm sure Demax can find a dragoness less important than you to tell him where the humans are living."

Arla winced and tried to toss Demax an apologetic glance, only to receive a glare from her father in return, his blue tail feathers lashing through the air. She followed him quietly as he turned, leaving the gold behind without even a look back to him.

The two stepped away, carefully circling around the other dragons at the center of the plateau, their romp calmed down by now, leaving them chatting quietly as they rested in the grass. Arla kept her steps high and dainty, letting only the smallest bit of scales on her talons touch the ground, so not to get her feathers more dirty than they already were.

"Was he courting you?" Aridan asked, not turning to look at his daughter. Even as he kept his voice composed, Arla could hear the anger brewing in his chest.

"He wasn't," Arla replied, not quite sure if she was being truthful or not. Demax hadn't explicitly been courting her, had he? And the touch of their tails must have been an accident. He must have just been being friendly. She shouldn't think anything more of it.

"Good!" Aridan continued, sounding slightly more excited than Arla suspected he'd intended. "I'm glad. You heard him mention living in a small cave, didn't you? And the way he carried himself -- a dragon of lesser stature and little hoard shouldn't even be talking to you without his head lowered."

"Of course," Arla sighed. Her father would have never heard of it, but she appreciated that he wasn't as rich as her father. The few dragons her father had let try and court her had been displeasing, controlling, and even violent at the worst. The traits that made for obtaining a large hoard rarely seemed to be the traits found in a good mate.

Arla risked a glance back as her father wasn't looking. Her eyes caught Demax's once more -- he hadn't budged, just staring after her as she left. Arla flicked her tail and gave him a friendly smile. Maybe there was a way this wouldn't be over after all.

"Oh, father, look!" Arla quickly said, pointing one of her wings over across the plateau, to the largest crowd of dragons she could see. "Is that Milis? I didn't realize she was here."

"Milis?" Aridan asked in surprise, his ears suddenly perking up. Milis was a dragoness around Aridan's age who'd lost her mate, and Aridan had been attempting to unsuccessfully court her for years. Arla rolled her eyes as she saw her father preen his feathers, running his talons down his crest and puffing out his chest like he was trying to make fire. "I should go greet her. Wait here, we'll leave when I'm done."

Arla rolled her eyes as her father pranced off. Just a mention of Milis, and it was like Aridan was a young drake once again. As soon as he'd gotten around the crowd in the center, Arla ducked her head down, holding her wings flat as she crouched and dashed over towards Demax, her tail held straight out behind her as she tried to keep herself hidden from her father's view. Demax gave her a curious raise of on eye-ridge and cocked his head when he saw Arla rushing back towards him.

"What did you say to him?" Demax asked curiously.

"Just a distraction," Arla admitted. "He'll be back in a moment. I just wanted to apologize for my father's rudeness."

Demax shook his head, his horns waving back and forth through the air. "It's fine, I'm used to it."

Arla paused, trying to figure out the right words to say. She'd enjoyed their brief conversation more than anything in years. She didn't want this to end here. "Er, also. If you wanted to show me some of your artwork, I'm . . . interested in meeting you again. If that would be alright."

"Of course!" Demax said, his snout lifting up as his wings wiggled in joy. "I'd be glad to!"

Arla nodded and turned her head, checking to make sure her father was still distracted and hadn't snuck over to them again. "I'll be hunting in the woods northeast of here in two days. They're southeast of where you live, right? Only if you want to join me."

Demax nodded so vigorously Arla was worried his head would pop off from his thick neck. "Definitely! I'll make sure to be there!"

Arla gave him a quiet smile, a little rush of excitement as she turned away from him without another word. She flicked her tail feathers against his snout, before darting away as fast as she could with a giggle. As she rushed back off to her father, it felt like the only thing she could think about was when she'd meet that handsome golden drake again.

---

The next morning, Demax was pacing from end to end of his cave. He'd barely slept a wink that night. How could he? Arla seemed to have made her way into what little dreams he'd had, the beautiful dragoness preening her feathers. He felt the tip of her tail on his snout once more, and playfully reached out to grab it, only for the sky blue dragon to whisk it away with a giggle, throwing him to the ground. He dreamt of their tails curled around each other, their wings stretched across one another as they stared up at the sky into a field of stars.

The thoughts persisted into the morning. In every dark cranny of the cavern, he saw her again, her eyes wide as she stared back at him, the feathers around them parting as they fluttered in the wind. He imagined her tail curled around his own, his scales rubbing slowly back and forth across her feathers. He laughed as he realized he couldn't think about anything but her.

The young golden drake realized he was hopelessly in love.

Did it matter, he wondered? Was it at all realistic? A single look around his small cavern made him falter. It was almost all but barren, a few bones of prey scattered around the entrance, with a little pile of precious coin as his sleeping place, barely enough to cover his underbelly. The only other thing of note was a slightly larger pile of scrap metal and shed golden scales he'd recently gathered, with the few pieces of art that he'd been able to bring on his journey to their side. With so much trouble getting situated in a new home, as dismal as it might be, it felt like it had been years since he'd worked on them. How could he ever hope to have a chance at courtship with Arla, hatched in a hoard that sounded like it dwarfed the tallest of dragons? Why did he have to fall in love with a dragoness as seemingly unattainable as the stars?

He started to fret, remembering what Arla had said about wanting to meet him again. What if he'd misjudged her? He wondered, was she just interested in him as a friend, or as a relief to her boredom? Or did she feel the same way about him? Did her heart and wings flutter every time she picture him in her mind? Did she even picture him at all? Could the brush of her tail on his snout just have been an accident?

Demax sighed, and shook his head, the tips of his horns brushing against the low ceiling of his cave. "You're being ridiculous," he said to himself. "She invited you to go hunting with her. Just do that, and we'll see how things go from there."

His eyes were caught by a glimmer of light, as the morning sun glinted off one of the pieces of art he'd brought. It was one of his favorites -- a tree he'd tried to make the likeness of, forming the branches from twisted iron, his own scales covering it as golden leaves. Arla had asked her to bring a piece for her to see, hadn't she? He liked this one, but he wondered, was this the right thing for her to show?

An better idea popped into his mind. He had a day before he was going to meet Arla again, and was going to hunt tomorrow. Why not create something new, special for her? Would she like that?

Demax turned to his pile of scrap metal, sinking his fangs into a long thin sheet, the metallic taste of iron filling his mouth as he dragged it out. He stared at it for a moment, placing a few golden scales on top, trying to position them as he imagined the final form. It wouldn't be too difficult, but he'd have to use his fire stores carefully if he didn't want to run out of them before the day was over. He didn't have much hoard to replenish them with. Raising his head, Demax opened his jaws, and let out a blast of fire onto the metal, smoke filling the room as it began to melt.

The heat blasted against his face as the thin sheet of metal began to faintly glow, and as he lowered his flame, he brought his talons in, touching them to the just barely molten iron. The warmth stung, but as Demax had learned early on, dragon scales and claws could take a lot before being damaged. He'd only managed to burn himself before he'd learned how to control his fire's temperature. But not all his parts were so resistant, and just in case, he made sure to bring his wings as far back as he could, until his two wing-tips were barely touching.

There was a fine line between the iron being molten enough to be able to shape, but not so hot it became liquid. It had taken lots of practice, but Demax had gained a control over his flame that few dragons ever could. Not that this fine-tuning was particularly useful for most situations -- this amount of flame or double it would cook an unarmored human attacker just as well. Raising the temperature just the smallest amount, Demax sunk his talons deeper, molding the iron as if it were clay. The golden dragon's forge glowed bright as he shaped it, bringing his fire back down to just a small concentrated jet.

Slowly, as Demax worked, his efforts began to take shape. From the first bit of metal, he created an iron orb large enough to fit in his paws, and as it began to cool, he placed fallen golden scales around its surface, until he could hold up a glittering golden sphere. It took some effort -- making a sphere was harder than he'd thought, but the next few spheres, all smaller than the first, were far easier. He glanced down at the collection of own scales when he'd made the second. He'd managed to collect some from other dragons back in his homeland to use for different colors than his own, but hadn't been able to take them. Unfortunately, gold would have to do.

The sun was beginning to lower down in the sky by the time Demax finished seven golden spheres, each with a small hole poked into the bottom. When he'd recently visited one of the human scrapyards north of the mountains, he'd collected a series of small iron rods, knowing that they'd come in use one day. Now seemed like the time to use them. Careful to melt them just enough he could bend them where he wanted to, he twisted them into the shapes he was wanting to, adding a little loop on one end of each. It took a bit of work and a number of broken rods trying to fit them, and at one point, he had to remake one of the spheres entirely, but as the sun set, he finally managed to put it all together.

The large sphere in the center was surrounded by each of the six smaller ones, attached to it by the rods he created, all of different sizes and lengths. Slowly, he rotated one of the spheres around in a circle, bringing it all the way around to where it started. Demax sighed. Was it really good enough for Arla? He wished that he'd had more time and more resources to make it. A few differently colored scales would've been nice, and he'd just relied on his dubious memory of what he knew of astronomy to make it. Would Arla like it, or would she have an even better one already?

Demax wondered as he drifted off into sleep, the feathered dragoness still in his visions.

The next day, Demax awoke to the colors of muted grey sunlight, as a patter of rain sounded from outside his small cavern's entrance. A trickle of water seemed to be running under his tail, a few of his scales cold and wet. He raised his head in the air, shuffling his wings with a yawn.

After making a few final touches on his art piece, he carefully grabbed it in his jaws and stepped out into the rain. He felt himself shiver, glad that the gentle warmth from his fire stores kept him cozy against his scales. As water ran down gold, he spread his leathery wings wide, and took off towards the hunting ground Arla had told him to meet her at.

The forest Demax assumed Arla was talking about was nestled between two rows of peaks, dark green covering the valley. It followed the gap between the mountains, the underside gently curved like the great Dragon of the Stars had dragged her tail in the ground to create it, slowly meandering through the the range. A faint mist covered the base of the valley, Demax only able to get glimpses of a winding river following along the basin.

A low rumble of thunder shook from far in the distance as Demax dove down towards the valley floor, the orange glow of a volcano just over a series of cragged ridges. Where was he supposed to meet Arla? From what she'd said, this seemed like the closest part of the forest to where her home was, but there was still so much ground to cover. Could he search for her scent, perhaps?

Demax landed in a small area where the trees ran thin, his talons sinking down into squishy mud, crawling up and over the scales on his paws. He raised his tail and tucked his wings into his side, trying to keep them from getting more mud on them, if possible. Water that had gathered in the divots between his wing membranes splashed onto his back, and he stepped forward into the forest. He didn't want to look too dirty for when Arla saw him.

He lifted his head into the air as he wandered around the area, searching for any scent of Arla at all. She'd been remarkably clean when he'd first smelt her, like she bathed her feathers daily, and he'd mostly gotten a faint whiff of smoke and sulfur from the volcano she mentioned she'd lived on. Not very distinguishing, but it would have to do. Demax closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to figure it out.

He winced as most of what he smelt was the iron in his jaws. Beyond that, he could tell the humidity of the rain was in his nostrils, along with a faint earthy scent rising from the forest ground, but there was little else.

Demax continued deeper into the forest, until most of the rain on his scales dripped in large droplets from the leaves above. There was still no sign of Arla, though he could barely see anything through the foliage in this part. What if she had decided not to go hunting, because of the rain? What if her father had suspected her intentions, and forced her not to go? What if--

Demax's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a rustle of leaves behind him, followed a moment later by talons digging into his scales. He let out a yelp as he felt claws pierce him, light blue feathers a blur as he was thrown to the ground. Even the larger, heavier gold was shoved down, the wings and tail he'd tried so hard to keep from getting dirty splashed into the mud, overcoming him in a wave. It was over in an instant, with fangs around Demax's throat, pinned to the ground by the weight of another dragon.

"Oh, stars above!" Arla squealed as she saw Demax's golden scales beneath her, though at this point they were so covered in mud they seemed brown instead of gold. She got off of him, bringing her forepaws up to her crest in shame. Her own feathers were far from the sky-blue they'd been when Demax had first seen her, many also covered in a small coating of dirt or grime. "Oh no, I'm so, so, so sorry. I didn't mean--"

"It's fine," Demax winced with a laugh, getting back to his paws. He shook himself off from horn to tail, splattering mud on Arla's snout. Oops. Their second meeting was really not starting out like he'd planned for it to. "I'm just glad to see you again, and slightly more glad you didn't tear out my throat just now."

"I'd been looking for prey," Arla said, shaking her head. "I saw your horns from behind the bush, and I thought you were a big buck! Oh, I've really messed up, and now it looks like we've been rolling in mud. You're not bleeding, are you?"

"Just a little," Demax admitted, trying to cover where Arla's claws had pierced him. "Don't worry, only a scratch." He grinned. "Wow, I guess my animal impressions have gotten really good!"

Arla laughed at that, and Demax could tell that she untensed a little bit. That was good; he didn't want her to feel bad about the mistake.

"I'm surprised you were actually hunting," Demax remarked. "I thought it was just an excuse to get away from your father."

"Hunting is an excuse to get away from him," Arla replied, wiggling her tail. "Doesn't mean I don't enjoy it. I find it peaceful, the rain too."

Demax grinned, just staring at Arla for a moment. Even dirty, she was as beautiful as she was the night he'd met her. Maybe even more so. As she craned her sinuous neck and her feathers shifted, Demax could tell she was more relaxed now than then. He suddenly lifted his head up, alert as he remembered he'd brought his gift for Arla, and it was no longer in his jaws. It must have fallen when he'd gotten tackled!

"Just a moment!" Demax said. "You wanted me to bring an art piece for you, right? I think I dropped it."

Arla watched curiously as Demax turned around, lifting his tail as he lowered his front half down to the mud, searching through it. He noticed a rod poking out from it, and quickly pulled it out, his smile suddenly turning to a grimace. There was another rod a paws-length away, attached to one of the spheres. It had broken in two.

"Oh," Demax winced, quickly trying to brush some of the mud off the golden scales surrounding the central sphere. With his claws also so muddy, it didn't help much, and he could barely see a speck of gold through it. "Well, this was one of them."

"Oh stars," Arla said apologetically, "I broke it, didn't I? I'm so sorry. Again. Do you want me to help wash them?"

Demax lifted the two pieces in the air, letting the rain drip down his fallen scales, cleaning them just a little bit of mud. He tried to place the two pieces together how they normally would've fit, grimacing as he showed it to Arla. "I think that's the best we'll be able to get."

Arla's head peered down, tilting left and right as Demax watched her feathers flutter in the rain, wondering what she'd think of it. "What is it?"

"An orrery," Demax answered. He shook his paws, causing a little bit of mud to drip from the surfaces. "You mentioned liking the stars, so I tried to bring them down here. Well, at least the fixed stars. See, those and Terra are the six small orbs, and the big one in the center is the Sun. I hope I got it right, I didn't have any astronomy books on claw."

Arla opened her eyes wide in amazement, and lifted a talon to scrape off a dab of mud from one of the golden scales on the Sun. She brought her head close. "You made it . . . for me?"

Demax nodded. "It's yours to keep."

It seemed to Demax like Arla almost had tears in her eyes, though it may have just been raindrops on feathers. She smiled, before the feathers on her snout drooped back down again. "I'm so sorry for breaking it!"

"It's fine, you don't have to be sorry!" Demax chuckled, trying to reassure her. "I can fix the break pretty easily, and I didn't have enough time to make it operational at all to begin with. See, all the fixed stars rotate around, but freely, and I wanted to figure out how to make them go at their correct rates. Though I don't actually know what those are."

Arla suddenly wrapped her wings around Demax's neck and front, until they covered his own wings. Demax stiffened as he felt Arla's neck feathers suddenly brush against the scales on his own neck, and took in a deep whiff of her soft and smokey scent.

"It's really beautiful, even covered in mud and broken in two," Arla whispered, keeping herself wrapped around him for a moment, water dripping from her wet feathers onto his snout. "Thank you."

As Arla let go and backed away, Demax lowered his head in a small bow. "I'm glad you like it. Oh, did you want to go hunt? Something other than dragon this time, please."

"I'd love to!" Arla replied, happy to take the conversation away from her accidentally attacking the poor gold. She flicked her tail in the appropriate direction, mud dripping from its end. "Follow! Some of the best prey tends to be this way. Wild deer, though it can be more difficult to look for them when it's raining."

Demax quickly placed the two halves of the orrery in a tree stump he thought he'd be able to find pretty easily, climbing up a tree and poking his snout out through the colorful autumn leaves to make sure he knew where this was in the forest. The rain had steadily increased, and a frigid wind blew past his scales down the valley. He pulled his head back down, spreading his wings and gliding down to the forest floor after Arla.

"Do you like hunting?" Arla asked him, glancing back to make sure he was following behind her. Mud squished under Demax's claws as he landed, splashing up onto his legs.

"Not really," Demax admitted truthfully. "I don't hate it, but often times it seems more like a chore than a thrill. There's so much time spent searching for prey, and so little spent actually finding it. And, er, don't tell anyone, but I feel kind of bad when I actually catch an animal."

"I understand," Arla nodded, turning her head left and right as she hoped to catch the scent of deer. She scanned the ground, trying to find any tracks, but it seemed like any had been washed out by the rain. "I like it, but the thrill of the chase and kill isn't really something I care for either. It's . . . everything else. The prey is plenty here, and we haven't been at risk of going hungry in a while. I like exploring, wandering, and just learning about the other animals we share the range with, both those we hunt, and those that we don't. I enjoy having the wind brush through my feathers, and even the rain on my back. For me, the fun part of hunting is just the part I can be contemplative, even before I've found prey." She giggled. "I guess you're right; it really more of an excuse than anything."

Demax carefully thought about her wings, considering them. "I hadn't really thought about it like that before. Maybe next time I go hunting, I'll try and keep that in mind."

"It's also nice to hunt with someone else." Arla tilted her head back, almost craning it over her wings to see Demax. "I'm glad you joined me today. I was a bit worried you wouldn't, because of the rain."

Demax showed a few fangs in a toothy grin. "I wouldn't miss out on a chance to see you again for a hoard my weight in gold. I was also a bit worried you weren't going to come, either, at least until I felt your claws on my back. After that, I was more worried for myself!"

Arla laughed as she turned her head back forward of her. "Hey!" she realized. "I caught the scent of deer, recent too! This way, as quietly as you can!"

Arla's tail practically whipped Demax in the snout as she turned, prancing deep into the woods as light as a feather. Demax followed, crouching as the rain landed on his thick scale. He could barely smell the deer at all! He trotted behind Arla as her tail wiggled up and down, her feathered rump shaking from side to side practically in his snout the entire time. He couldn't say he didn't appreciate the view, but it made it difficult to try and hunt, with her own scent, suddenly quite a bit stronger, right in front of his nose! He wasn't sure whether to feel weird or not about staring -- he wasn't trying to!

Arla gave him a quick glance back every few moments, as if she was expecting him to do something, but Demax only looked away bashfully when she did so, attempting to concentrate on something other than her. Eventually, she stopped, and Demax ended up so close to her tail he could reach out and nip her hind. He resisted the strong urge to do so, even as he felt himself stir at her scent.

"They're over here," Arla whispered, turning back to Demax, hardly shifting her rump at all. Was this how dragons in this range normally hunted together? "Not far. A herd grazing in the grass beyond those trees. Be quiet."

Arla shifted to the side to allow Demax to stop forward. He did so, and peeked out from a bit of foliage. A small field of tall grasses stood up ahead, with maybe a dozen or so deer all grazing. A thin layer of mist crept over the ground, the deer's legs appearing out from it like stalks, with the heads dipped. A large buck with antlers practically as large as Demax's lifted his head up and cautiously looked around, but quickly lowered it back down to continue eating. Demax suddenly tensed up as he felt the sensation of wet feathers across his backside. Arla had walked forward and lifted one of her wings over his back. There wasn't any mistaking it, this time. That was more than just a friendly greeting.

"Go ten-tail lengths that way, pacing each of your steps like a slow heartbeat, then stalk across the grass," Arla whispered. She pointed a talon at an elderly deer on the edge of the herd. "I'll be going the other way, and whichever one of us he smells first, probably me judging by the wind and my er, scent, he'll run away from and into the claws of the other one. Got that?"

Demax nodded, and opened his mouth to say something, before thinking better of it. The less said, the more likely they'd be successful. Arla give him a smile before pulling in her wings and turning to the right. Demax took a deep breath as her scent disappeared with her, and slowly followed her directions, pacing himself out as he walked along the treeline, before walking into the grasses, his head as low as he could make it, his wings tucked up against his body.

The mist coated his scales as he placed one paw after another, the rain pattering down on his back. All he had to do was keep quiet, and keep walking. The deer was just there, just a few paces away, and for an instant, Demax felt himself salivate at the thought of fresh meat. Just enough that his body involuntarily tried to give into his urges, his talons stretching out as he only barely managed to keep himself from breaking into a sprint.

It wasn't enough. Fighting his own instincts caused him to suddenly stumble, his claws splashing into the mud harder than he'd wanted to, golden scales shaking. In an instant, the deer had all heard him, and they were off and running before he got another move in. As he raised his head and gave in, rushing after the deer, he heard a roar from in front of him, and Arla pounced towards the elderly deer the two had targeted. There was a small scuffle, but another couple heartbeats, and the elderly deer had run off after the others, just the smallest of talon-swipes bleeding along its side.

Demax turned, but his weight was too much, and he slipped onto his underbelly, skidding across the mud. With a yelp, he barrelled into Arla, knocking her over into the grasses. The two rolled over, landing drenched in a small puddle, tall blades of grass rising over their heads. A few drops of water from them hit Demax's eyes as he felt himself squeeze his wings around Arla.

Arla laughed and lifted herself off the ground, gently getting back onto her paws. "The huntress has become the hunted," she remarked, shaking her feathers to try and get some of the mud off. "I suppose I deserved that."

"Sorry," Demax apologized, lifting himself. He looked over at the herd of deer, already long gone. Maybe the two could've flown after them, but the trees were so close it wouldn't have been hard for them the make for the treeline. "I guess we're not getting any deer meat tonight."

Arla suddenly let out a giggle as she saw Demax's antler-like horns, and the golden drake gave her a confused stare. She shook her head, using all her self-control not to reply to that with a joke about wanting his 'deer meat.' She knew what her father would have said to that -- far too immature for a dragon of her hatching!

"What are you laughing about?" Demax wondered, looking up to see if there was something caught on his horns. Nothing but mud dripped down from them onto his neck.

"Nothing!" Arla replied, stifling in another giggle. "You didn't scare him off intentionally, did you? So you wouldn't have to kill him in front of me?"

Demax laughed himself. "I wish I could say that," he admitted, "but no. I think I'm a bit too hungry for that sort of self-restraint. He heard me cause I misplaced a paw -- my scales can make me pretty heavy, and it's pretty difficult to be quiet."

"Huh," Arla remarked, giving Demax's not-so-glittering scales a look. For a moment, she couldn't help but imagine what that sort of weight would feel like on her backside, before banishing the thought from her head. "I suppose that's true. Hey, at least it's harder to set yourself on fire."

"Also true," Demax said, eyeing Arla's tail again. Feathers and fur seemed particularly flammable. "And I can make my art look shiny and fancy."

Arla nodded in agreement as she looked up towards the rain, eyeing the grey clouds for a moment, as if hoping she'd catch a glimpse of something through them. Water only dripped down into her eyes, the feathers on her snout folding back from the weight. "We should probably continue on if we want to catch anything today."

Demax nodded his head back, and followed after Arla as the two headed back into the forest, once again providing a little bit of cover from the falling rain. He couldn't help but smile as he looked around. The forest was beautiful like this. A solemn mist covering its surface, leaves all the colors of the sunset dropping from the not-yet barren trees. But his gaze went back to Arla, more beautiful than it all. Sky-blue feathers ruffled as she stretched out her wings, the dragoness' darkened crest folding as she turned to catch Demax's eyes. Part of the golden dragon tried to make him look away, like he was ashamed for just imagining touching her feathers in his claws, the feel of them brushing his underbelly. But he didn't, and the two held their stare, Demax gazing into Arla's amethyst eyes as she gazed back into his, and for a few heartbeats, even the forest disappeared around them, the rain on their heads unnoticeable as they saw only each other.

Then with a flirtatious smirk, Arla turned away, and ran off into the forest. Demax was still for a moment, unsure what to do, before she laughed and glanced back, like she expected him to follow.

"Wait up!" Demax yelled, sprinting after her as fast as he could, breaking into a stumbled gallop. Mud sprayed out from under his paws, but he wasn't anything compared to her speed, the dragoness rushing back and forth between trees, her body curving around them until Demax was only catching a glimpse of her feathers. "My scales are slowing me down!"

"Then you'll have to catch me!" Arla yelled back. "Come on, drake! Let's see you hunt!"

Demax sighed with a smile on his snout as he ran after her, knowing that catching up was hopeless. What sort of antics did she have in store for him? It wasn't long before she disappeared completely from view, not a trace of her feathers left in the mist.

"Arla!" Demax called out. "Arla, where are you?"

There was no response, and Demax slowed down. Where had she gotten to? He lowered his snout to the ground, sniffing as he tried to pick up her scent. It certainly was stronger than it had been this morning, and he couldn't help but feel his heart race at it. Well, it wasn't like he could hide his own desires any better, though for a male drake, it tended to be a bit more . . . visual.

As mud touched to his nose, and he started trying to walk after wherever Arla had gone, he suddenly saw motion out of the corner of his eye. With only a moment's warning, Demax jumped forward just as Arla pounced out of the bushes, landing right where he'd been a heartbeat before.

"Not falling for that again!" Demax playfully growled, before jumping back onto the surprised Arla. She let out a shriek as he grabbed ahold of her side, throwing her to the ground. Demax laughed until he suddenly felt feathered limbs wrap around him, and with a twist of her wings, Arla flipped the heavier drake off her with all the force she could muster.

With a yelp of surprise, Demax suddenly felt the mud skid out from beneath his wings, as the ground began to form a gentle slope. He grabbed onto Arla as tight as she latched onto him, and the two began to roll, locked together as they slid down the hillside. Demax nipped at Arla's snout, tugging at a few of her feathers as they tossed over and over, the world spinning around. He felt sharp talons pull on his scales, but the pain was more than worth it.

The two laughed as they play-fought, still rolling, Demax wrapping his front paws around Arla's neck and pulling it close to him. The soft down of her underbelly fluffed up against his own warm scales, and he felt his tail twine around hers, before she pulled her own tighter, and their hips were locked together, caught in each other's heat.

As they came to a rest at the bottom of the hill, the sound of rushing water reached Demax's ears, though he barely sensed it through Arla's heavy panting. He felt her front paws on his neck, her talons eagerly running along his scales. He stifled a moan as he felt her hips rub between his, and excitedly nipped the bottom of her neck again. She lowered her head as they clutched each other tight, and gave him a lick along his jaw. He looked up and returned it, their tongues touching. The warmth of Arla's breath coated Demax's nose, and he took it in, wanting to breathe in nothing but her smokey scent, with just a touch of arousal. The wind blew through her feathers, causing them to float in front of Demax's eyes, before catching a glimpse of Arla's, a black slit staring back at him on the glittering amethyst background. His heart raced as fire seemed to rush through him, joining with Arla's own as she pressed down, and he leaned back into the mud.

Suddenly, a dragon's roar burst over the mountains, echoing through the valley, so loud that it even seemed to shake Arla's wing-feathers. Her expression seemed to change almost instantly from one of love and passion to one of horror, and she let Demax's horns fall down into the mud as she lifted her own head aloft. Demax felt her tail tense up.

"No, no," Arla whimpered, almost crying. "My father. I-I need to go-I need to clean off, your scent, it's-oh, what will he think, he can't-please, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry."

Demax stared agape as Arla climbed off him, her talons on his soft underbelly causing him to clench up. Looking down, he quickly draped his tail between his hind-legs in shame at his arousal, twisting his hips until it was hidden in the mud. He heard a splash, only to see that Arla had rushed off into the river, drenching her feathers in the frigid water as she tried to wash off.

A few moments later, and she'd run off again, leaving Demax alone in the rain, his scales coated in mud. He suddenly realized that she'd never told him the next time they could meet.

---

The freezing rain pattered against Arla's frigid feathers as she made her way to the north of the forest in short bursts of flight, the oil on her feathers barely enough to keep her aloft after her soaking. The curved mountain peaks began to turn dark and cragged as Arla continued onwards, and the sky turned from grey to black, the rain sulfurous and acidic as it fell through clouds of soot. An orange glow from the heart of her volcano reflected from the black clouds, covering the landscape in a colored haze.

As Arla shivered, climbing up the usual path she used to reach her home, she saw the silhouette of another dragon waiting on the peak. Her father's feathers had turned a dark violet under the glow, and his sharp eyes wandered down as he waited for her to approach. Before making it up further, Arla stuck her snout under her wing, checking for Demax's scent on her. Small wisps of it clung under her feathers, but the smoke of the volcano hid it well. Her father's nose was as sharp as his eyes, but he wouldn't notice this.

Arla placed her talons on a rock ledge, pulling herself up as the sharp stones dug beneath her feathers. After a few tries, she managed to swing her tail and hindlegs over it. For a moment, she was glad she didn't have Demax's scales weighing her down, though his leather wings would've made it easier for her to fly. She looked up to see her father, waiting expectantly for her at the top, his long neck staring down at her as if he already knew where she'd been, and more worryingly, who she'd been with.

"Hello, father," Arla said carefully, keeping her tone quiet and solemn as she usually tried to.

"You're muddy," Aridan frowned, seeing Arla's crest hidden in grime. "And wet."

"I was hunting," Arla explained. It was true, though most of the mud was more Demax's fault than the deer's. She looked up towards the dark sky. "I slipped in a puddle when chasing a deer."

Aridan snorted, Arla unsure if he believed the half-truth or not. "A dragoness of your age and stature must keep herself pristine at all times," Aridan muttered unhappily. "You need to look your best, just in case a potential mate sees you."

"Yes, father," Arla responded. Did she really? Demax hadn't cared at all about her looking pristine and acting high and mighty. Whether she'd been preened for their gathering, or covered in mud from crest to tail while hunting, he'd liked her both ways. He liked her for who she was, not for who her father wanted her to be. She let out a sigh, a bit more audibly than she'd meant to.

"I heard that," Aridan said with a click of his tongue. Arla felt her feathers pull back, worried for a moment that he suspected what had happened between her and Demax. "These are dangerous times, and you know as well as I do that this peace and solitude won't last for much longer. It's important that you find a mate with a large hoard. Someone who can keep you safe and will help you hunt and raise your hatchlings."

Arla sensed a bit of guilt leak through her father's voice, a rare occurrence of showing emotion for such a refined dragon. She wondered -- did he feel like he like he'd failed Arla's mother as a mate? She felt a tad of pity for him; what had happened wasn't his fault in any way.

"Alright," Arla quietly agreed, lowering her head. "I'll remember." She knew Demax would help her hunt, though he probably needed a bit of work on his stealthiness. He seemed like the type of dragon who would be good at raising hatchlings, better than her. But he didn't have much of a hoard, from what she'd gathered. Maybe his art could be considered a hoard, just not one of gold.

The rain slowed as Arla followed her father up the path to the volcano, trailing behind him silently. The stone turned black and flat as the path turned into something resembling a road. Her father had found (well, more like fought for) the palace the two had lived in since Arla's hatching, but neither of them knew who'd built it. Arla thought the corridors were too large to have been made for humans, but Aridan said that on his travels, he'd seen that humans often enjoyed grandiose structures. Personally, Arla thought that it had been built by dragons long ago, abandoned for some mysterious reason.

As they turned a corner, and walked up steps steep for even a dragon, the palace came into view. It was built from the same black stone as the road, crumbled spires rising into the air with statues so old and defaced Arla couldn't even tell their species. It hugged the side of the volcano as tight as Demax and Arla's rolling embrace, digging so deep down into it that Arla suspected there was even a tube leading into the magma chamber, hopefully well-sealed. Aridan stepped through the great entrance arch without another word to Arla, expecting her to clean herself off. Maybe there had been doors at one point, but there was little trace left of them. Arla half-expected that they'd been stolen.

While Aridan walked off to his wing of the palace, Arla continued deeper into its halls. The far-too-familiar orange glow filled every corner of it. Small tubes of lava that never seemed to run out ran through the walls. With the palace at big as it was, they were useful for giving Arla a sense of direction. The lava flowed out towards the surface, and in towards the volcano, though the dragoness had never managed to figure out where exactly it came from.

Black archways rose high over Arla's head as she stepped through the empty halls, silent except for the quiet hum of moving lava and Arla's own clawsteps. They echoed through the humongous chambers, far bigger than even the largest of dragons would ever need. She sometimes imagined what this place would have been like after it had been built. Maybe there would have been dragons from all over the world brought together here, laughing and talking in the crowded halls. Would they have been saddened at the sorry state of the palace now?

Still dripping mud from her feathers, Arla finally found the room she'd been looking for -- a chamber filled with hot water and steam. It seemed to have been designed with the aesthetics of a natural landscape in mind, with large rocks and boulders placed between pools of water ranging in sizes, the room far too large for just one dragon. In addition to its comforts, it was a little escape from the rest of the stark landscape of the palace and volcano.

Arla felt her body calm just as she entered the nearest pool, the heat of the water soaking into her cold feathers and warming her entire body as it surrounded her. She carefully washed her feathers, getting out the grime and dirt from each of them, before climbing out and laying on her back at a dry rock by the side of the pool. She let out a sigh as she relaxed, spreading out her wings and staring up at the foggy ceiling of the steam room. Even if it had been open to the air, it wasn't like she could see the sky from beneath the permanent cloud of darkness that seemed to rise from the volcano.

Her eyes shut as her crest splayed out. She wondered when she'd be able to see Demax next. There were a few seasonal festivals throughout the year that he might go to, but she hoped it was before that. She realized that she hadn't told him the next time they should meet. What if he went to the hunting grounds every day, looking for her? It would be sweet, but she hoped, for his sake, that he wouldn't. He mentioned he lived in a cave, and she knew the general area where it was, but the mountain range was littered with caves! How could she hope to find him?

As she drifted off into a shallow sleep, she felt horrible not knowing when she'd see him next. She dreamt of him, seeing his inviting wings in front of her, the two once again hunting in the eternal forest. She felt herself step closer to him, wanting nothing more than to feel him against her once more, his warm underbelly pressing into her down, his tongue stroking along her neck.

She murmured in her sleep, and Demax's figure raised a forepaw. She reached out to place her talons within it, only for him to turn and run with a laugh.

"Wait!" Arla called after the alluring drake as he faded from view. Her claws seemed stuck to the ground, mud seeping over them as she sunk in it. "Demax, please, don't go!"

"Go where?" Demax asked her back, his voice echoing through the forest, the leaves turning into birds as they flew into the twilight sky. Arla tried to turn, wondering where he had gone, only to sink deeper into the mud, climbing up her feathers until it coated her wings.

Arla's eyes fluttered open with a start. She felt her heart racing -- was it the fear of her sinking, or the thought of hearing Demax once again? She wasn't sure.

The room of steam was much as it was when she'd went to sleep. Arla wondered how long she'd been out. Would Aridan notice? Doubtful. This wouldn't have been the first time she'd fallen asleep here.

"Arla?" Demax's voice asked again.

Arla lifted her head in shock, her feathers blowing from the force of it. Was she still dreaming? She had to be. Her tail instinctively flicked as she caught movement at the doorway to the room, hidden in the mist.

"Demax?" she squealed in surprise, leaping to her paws as she saw the golden drake outlined. He cocked his head, maybe giving her a smile back. What was he doing here?

"May I come in?" Demax asked, peeking his head through the doorway. He held up something in his forepaws, which Arla quickly realized was the orrery. "I wasn't able to get it back to you before you left, so I went back to repair it. I didn't know the next time I'd see you, so I figured I'd come by and drop it off."

"Of course!" Arla said, folding her wings in. How had he managed to find her in the palace? What if her father had noticed him wandering around? She walked over to Demax, peeking behind him, only to see very visible trail of mud she'd brought in with her. That answered the first question. She carefully looked around and covered him with a wing, making sure that her father wasn't anywhere in sight.

"T-thank you," Arla whispered, still quite surprised, albeit pleasantly so, at his appearance. She carefully took the orrery from his paws, now in a single piece, and placed it in a hidden corner of the steam room she thought would be hard for any other dragon to find. Though it wasn't like there was anyone here but her and her father, and Aridan rarely used the room himself. If he miraculously found it, she thought she could always pass it off as one of the odd treasures or artifacts that seemed to occasionally pop up in the ancient palace. "But you can't be here. If my father caught you here, I don't know what he'd do to you. He's very territorial, and I don't think he wants me seeing you again."

"I did make sure to be quieter this time on my way in," Demax smiled. "And I cleaned myself off, so hopefully my scent is masked. If I can't be here, would you like to go somewhere else with me?"

Arla paused. More than anything else right now, she wanted to go with him, to be together, just the two of them. But what if she got caught? Her father was likely sleeping on his hoard and wouldn't even notice before she was back, but it was still a risk. Still, how could she pass up an opportunity like this, to spend more time with him? And he was already here, after all. "Yes," she answered, a bit more cautious than she intended to sound. "Yes! Let's go, er, where?"

Demax thought for a moment. "I know someplace near my cave that has a nice view. It's a bit of a hard flight, but I think you'll find it worthwhile."

Arla nodded quickly. As long as she was with Demax, she wasn't really sure she cared where they were together. "Please, take me there."

Demax grinned, and turned his tail, Arla following behind him as the two snuck through the palace, careful to walk along the muddy tracks that Arla had brought in with her. She could help but smile as she saw him waggling his thick scaly tail in front of her, wondering if he was intentionally trying to repeat her stunt in the forest. She thought about spooking him with a nibble on its tip, but decided better of it, worried he might make too much noise in alarm.

Eventually, the two reached the entranceway of the palace, and they stepped out onto the volcano's slope together. It was difficult to tell the time here, but it seemed to Arla like the middle of the night. By now, Arla's wings were dry, and the rain had cooled to a light drizzle. Up further in the mountains, there would be snow.

"Follow me," Demax said, shaking his wings with excitement. "I think I can find the way back from here."

Aridan nodded as she watched Demax take off into the sky, still here the eternal orange glow of the lava against the clouds. Demax stayed low, and Arla lifted her own wings, a brisk breeze ruffling through her long feathers as droplets sprayed on her snout. She ran forward, her hindlegs after her front, into the wind. She felt the lift off her wings, and with a leap from a small ledge, she rose after Demax into the sky.

The sky remained cloudy as she followed him through the mountains, but at least they were soon out of the volcano's range. As she travelled west, it seemed to get colder, though the air become more clear, more pristine. Arla let herself coast behind the gold dragon, drafting with the cold air rushing above and below him. The rain seemed to pour harder as they neared the part of the range Demax had mentioned, and Arla let herself shift downwards until she was partly beneath the gold, his leather wings providing cover from the rain. She couldn't help but glance up between Demax's thighs, turning away with a slightly ashamed giggle before he noticed.

"My cave is down there!" Demax yelled out, his voice carried to Arla by the wind. She saw one of his talons point towards the base of a huge mountain in the distance, so tall it seemed like the peak was far above even the clouds. Arla squinted in the dark as she tried to make out where Demax was pointing. "It's just in case you want to visit some time! I'm taking you a bit higher! Are you still up for that?"

Arla nodded. Her wings were wet, but the natural oil on them kept her feathers from getting too damp to fly. She wasn't quite sure where Demax was taking her, but she trusted him. If she needed to, the two could turn back.

Demax twisted upward, his wings suddenly beating harder as he rose into the sky. Arla did the same, turning sharply as she saw the mountain come closer, a blast of wind trying to push her down. She wouldn't let it, and kept her wings beating as her heart raced, following Demax up the mountainside until the clouds seemed right above them.

Here, the cold rain had turned to snow, and her feathers were soon covered in a gentle dusting, powder on her blue plumage. The grey clouds loomed closer, and Demax showed no sign of stopping. The two were heading for the peak.

"Listen to my voice!" Demax called out to her, looking back again. "We're going to go up through the clouds. I'll guide you!"

Arla nodded again, this time a little more nervous. Was Demax taking her into the heart of a snowstorm? Still, she followed him, and with a burst of wind, the two were shoved into the stormy clouds.

Almost immediately, Arla felt herself tossed too and fro by strong winds, struggling to keep herself flying in the same direction. Snow and small crystals of ice whipped her feathers, hugging onto them. She felt her breath become hard and laborious, each stroke of her winds like she was swimming blind through water. Was she even going up any more?

"Here!" she heard Demax yell from a distance, his voice barely audible. "I'm here!"

The snowstorm blasted Arla from the right, causing her to almost topple over. Still, she kept flying upwards, reaching towards Demax's voice as he called for her, never able to grasp onto it. Wherever Demax was taking her, it had better be worth it this flight, or she was choosing the meeting places from now on.

"You're almost there!" Demax yelled out again, his voice closer this time. Arla struggled as she beat her wings upwards, her fangs chattering as felt her down covered in snow. Even the cold couldn't stop her now though, and with a few more strokes, she burst through the top of the clouds, into the sky.

Arla panted as her wingbeats slow, and she glided towards where she saw Demax, her eyes still half-covered in melted water. Not far in the distance, the peak of the mountain came into view, lit by moonlight. The very top poked just above the clouds, and from it, a bright flame glowed like a beacon, the sky lit up from it. They'd made it through the worst part.

"Are you good?" Demax asked, slightly worried as he saw the snow on Arla's feathers. She shouted out a quick reply of yes, and soared after him. Above the clouds, the snowstorm had disappeared, and the sky was still. She looked down at the grey clouds, the light from the flame reflecting off their folds as it glinted up to her, like her volcano flipped upside down.

Demax landed first at the peak, standing beside the fire. He watched as Arla descended through the sky, her talons touching down in snow beside him. She shook her wings, snow landing on a few of the logs that had been brought up to the peak to make the beacon. Had he wanted to bring her to the peak, and brought all the wood up here just to keep her warm? She slowly crawled over towards towards the flame, stretching out her wings and limbs close enough to feel its heat, snow melting from them, but made sure they were a careful distance. Unlike scales, feathers were flammable.

A wisp of clouds ran through Arla's talons as she brought them near the fire. She looked down as she saw the mist envelop her feathers for a moment, before looking to Demax, a goofy smile on the golden drake's mouth.

"Tell me when you're ready and warm enough," Demax said to her. "When you're warm enough, I'll douse it."

Arla cocked her head, her crest falling to side, confused. "Douse it? This looks like it took a lot of effort to make." How many times had Demax flown up and down this frigid mountain in the time she'd been warm and asleep in her steam bath, just to make the fire?

Demax nodded in agreement. "Trust me. It's a surprise. But the good type."

Arla raised an eyeridge, but bobbed her head in agreement. Demax had brought her this far. She stretched out a wing, inviting him over to her. The golden dragon stepped through the snow with a smile, and Arla felt herself grow even warmer as he placed his wing over her own. This time, it certainly wasn't just a friendly greeting. Arla sat back on her haunches and leaned in closer to him, the sound of his breaths in her ear. Heat came through his breastplates, sinking into the feathered dragoness as she held still.

It didn't take long for Arla to feel warm again. She didn't want Demax to get up, to remove his scales from her neck, but she was too excited to see what he had planned for her. Was it something he'd made, like the orrery, or something else? "Alright," she whispered to him, "I'm ready."

Demax lifted his wing, and used the membrane to scoop up snow within it. With a flex, he tossed the snow on the fire, dousing half of it. After another scoop of snow. It went out, and the two were plunged in darkness.

"Look up," Demax grinned, placing his wing back around Arla, the feathered dragoness shivering at the coldness of where the snow on his membrane had been.

Arla raised her head, unsure what she was supposed to see at first. The crescent moon appeared in the sky, along with the brightest stars, twinkling beside it. Then slowly, her eyes began to adjust. She opened them wide as more and more stars began to appear in the night sky, familiar constellations that she'd seen before. But it didn't stop there, with the air above the mountain peak so clear, and with no light from the glow of the volcano, stars filled the sky, each of them glittering in Arla's eyes as she could nothing but stare. Specks of light of all sorts of color and brightness were in every corner of the night sky.

Arla had heard that it would take a dragon an entire lifetime to count every star in the sky, but she'd never believed the expression before. This was what she'd missed out on, kept near the palace all her life. Shades and blotches she'd only heard descriptions of found their way to her eyes, and she could barely feel her feathers flutter in the wind. Even the cold disappeared in her amazement.

"This is the most wonderful thing I've ever seen," Arla whispered to Demax, pulling him closer with her wing, her eyes unable to look away.

"It's why I settled down here," Demax replied, suddenly feeling Arla's tail against his own. She curled it around his, soft feathers lightly brushing between his scales. "This way, I can experience it every night, just a short flight away. It's amazing, but it doesn't compare to you."

Arla laughed as she wrapped another wing around Demax, pulling him so close that she could feel his heart pound against her own. Her head stayed looking up to the sky, her neck half-wrapped around Demax's, his scent in her nose. From sitting on their haunches, she gently lowered him to the ground, holding his weight in her talons as she laid down side-by-side with him, underbellies pressed together. She kept their tails twined as she stared into the sky, her feathers lifting up and down with each of Demax's warm breaths.

"I recognize those from my star-charts," Arla said to him, pointing out a few with a talon. She gasped at the great band of light cast from one end of the sky to the other, whisps of darkness snaking through it like tendrils. "The Dragon of the Stars. I never really thought she was in the stars, but now . . ." She wrapped her wings tighter around Demax, hugging him with her hindlegs as her tail tensed around him. "Oh, Demax! Thank you, thank you so much for this!"

Her head rested by his, his golden snout visible alongside the field of stars in the background. She touched their muzzles together, and felt the warmth of his tongue lick the feathers beneath her snout. A few of her talons ran along the edge of his neck, carefully drawing the gaps between his scales with their refined movements.

"I just want to spend forever under the night sky with you," Arla whispered. For a moment, her worries had disappeared, and somehow, she knew that everything was going to be alright. She felt a claw on her own neck, the dull edge of it gently pushing aside feathers as it travelled down her body, and she lifted her wing as it graced her side, stroking under her wingblade. A small huff escaped her mouth as Demax's tail held her own, the hard scales stretching her tail out taut.

"It's almost as if we could touch the moon with our wings," Demax said back to her, the rumble of his throat causing Arla's feathers to vibrate. As if to demonstrate, he raised one of his own wings up high, touching the end of it to Arla's raised one, curling his membrane around it.

Arla looked up at the crescent moon, above their wings, brought together. It looked so close from up here. "We could always try."

"You'd get cold," Demax laughed, shaking his head at the absurdity.

Arla turned back to Demax with a hint of a grin, and touched her snout to the tip of his. "You can keep me warm," she purred, her hips wiggling against his. She knew he could smell her arousal. At this point, she could even smell his, and even wondered if she was feeling it against the feathers on the inside of her thighs. There was no point in playing coy any more. "I want to be close to the stars my first time mating. I want the wind in my wings. Will you . . . will you join me?"

Demax was silent for a second, and Arla's heart skipped a beat as she momentarily wondered if she'd read him wrong. Just because he was aroused didn't mean that he wanted to mate with her, did it? What if he was too embarrassed? What if he didn't want her back, in that way?

"Of course," Demax replied back to her, his voice calm as he said it, even as Arla felt his heart pounding in his chest like a beating waterfall. "I-I'll keep you warm."

Arla's own heart began to race as she began to get back to her paws, Demax alongside her. She'd imagined mating for so long, but now that it was coming, she was nervous. What would it be like? Did she really want to take Demax as her mate? His wing over her helped her settle. She trusted Demax. Whatever this was going to be like, he was going to be there through it, and she knew that as long as it was with him, she'd love every moment of it.

The two dragons stepped in unison to the edge of the peak, and raised their wings together. As cold winds blew from behind them, Arla's gaze turned even from the beautiful night sky to Demax, the golden drake practically shimmering in the starlight. His neck was held high, his great horns at the top of his head pointed back towards her. Right now, all she wanted was him.

The wind swept Arla from her paws and she lifted over the clouds, Demax right behind her as she soared through the air. As he approached her, she banked to the left, making a quick loop around him, more nimble and agile than the larger, heavier dragon. He followed her moves, flapping his wings once to move to her height, and the two seemed to circle as they flew through the empty sky, the grey clouds beneath them, thinning as they made their way across the range.

The two danced through the air, and the range beneath them became clear, snow-topped mountains giving way to autumn forests. Wing to wing, the winds pushed the dragons over a glittering lake. Arla's gaze caught on its shimmering surface to see her and Demax's reflections, the stars glittering on its surface. As they neared its center, the night sky engulfed them from both above and below, more points of light wherever she looked.

Finally, Arla turned, catching Demax's eyes as she rose up into the air, wings beating. The Dragon of the Stars circled around the two, colors glinting through her starry scales as she wrapped around the world.

"They're everywhere!" Arla laughed, her voice tossed in the wind as Demax approached her, spiraling around each other as they ascended. "The stars are everywhere! I've always wanted to see them like this . . . Demax, thank you for sharing them with me."

Their wings brushed mid-flight, the tip of Arla's tail almost pointing straight down for a moment, before the winds pushed the two apart. Arla twisted herself around, until her back faced Demax. It was starting to get colder, so far up, and she wanted his warmth against her. She flicked her tail out as she looked back at him, her crest flittering in the wind as she beckoned him onto her.

A moment later, and Arla felt Demax's talons clutch her fragile wingblades, careful not to restrain them. Arla tilted them into a glide, the surface of the lake reflecting her underbelly as Demax's scales pressed against her backside, the warmth of his chest between her wings. She stretched them out as far as she could, the wind whipping up in spirals in the space between her feathered wings and Demax's leathery membranes.

Arla's heart raced faster as she felt Demax's tail touch hers again, and she curled it around his before releasing it. His breath was warm on the back of her neck, dispersing the cold wind, and she felt one of her front paws move to his claws, grabbing them and pulling him even closer. Her tail lifted upwards and to the side, his hips moving under it and against her, and warmth pressed into her rump plumage, Arla unsure if it was his warmth or her own.

"I'm glad you shared them back," Demax responded in kind, his voice drowning out the wind as he whispered into Arla's ears, the pressed up against their sides as they glided together. By now, Arla could smell the strong scent of her own sex even in the gust, mixed with the scent of the golden dragon's. Her talons clenched around his, holding him tight as his body moved against hers, covering her backside down to her tail. They tilted slightly to the left as Demax's hips shifted to a better position, the turn mid-flight giving Arla a glimpse of their bodies in the lake below, Demax's scales almost glittering.

Arla let out a quiet huff as she felt him press against her sex, first just the slick scales between Demax's hindlegs brushing along it, the immediately surrounding feathers wet with arousal. She felt his wings shift again, and with another movement of his hips, his tip prodded her, hot under her feathers. She admitted it to herself, she was curious. She hadn't ever touched a male's sex before this, and couldn't see it in the reflection far beneath her. Well, she hoped she'd have for more chances to explore him more, and for him to explore her. She didn't want this to be her only time mating with him.

Arla gently squeezed her hindlegs together, getting a mildly surprised purr from Demax as he felt the soft feathers between her thighs rubbing his sensitive bits. He moved his hips in unison, a whine escaping from Arla as his warm shaft moved along her slit, spreading her folds and feathers open as the tip touched her clit, Arla tensing up beneath her tail.

"D-Demax!" she murmured, her wings suddenly shaky as she felt his tip push into her wetness, one of his hindlegs wrapped around hers. The flying suddenly became as shaky as Arla as clenched up at the sensation. She'd used dulled claws before, of course, but she'd been control of that, and this was different! The wildness of the wind seemed to take control of them both, and Arla squeaked as she felt his hips bump up and down, accidentally pushing further into her slit.

"Sorry!" Demax gulped, pulling his hips backwards, his stiff member touched by the cold wind. It was far more difficult to control his movements while flying than he'd expected, and he wondered if he should suggest mating on the ground, like most scaled and furred dragons tended to do. He decided against it -- he knew that feathered dragons preferred the sky, and this seemed like the perfect place for Arla, between the stars and their reflections. "I'll try to be more careful!"

It wasn't just the turbulence that made it difficult for Demax. The scent of Arla's sex was almost intoxicating, travelling down his nose and through his body. He could barely manage to hold back the primal urge to rut her as hard as he could, thrusting until one of their bodies broke, or he'd filled her with his seed. It was almost like their hunt, when instinct had taken over for just a moment, and he'd tried to rush for his prey too soon. Demax made sure to exhibit more restraint when he moved his hips up against Arla once more, her tail squished under his scales. He steadied himself as warmth enveloped his tip again, feathers flitting on his thighs.

Arla took in a deep breath, trying to relax herself as the night wind rushed past her snout. Her heart raced as Demax slowly pushed his way into her slit, unused to the sensation of being penetrated this deep. Her heart raced in excitement as he took her in the roar of the sky. Fangs touched the back of her neck, and a shiver worked its way down Arla's spine as Demax's strong tongue pressed up beneath her crest, his breaths so loud she could hear them.

With a huff, Arla felt Demax's scales press all the way into her feathers. The drake's shaft was as hot as his chest, the warm sensation of it pulsing in her slit and spreading through her hindlegs. She moved herself back relative to him, grinding her rump in circles, the feel of his member shifting around inside her until it was just right. Her talons dug tighter into his paws as he kept his hips still, half wrapped around her, letting her move herself until he pressed down into her in the way she wanted.

"Is this good for you?" Demax asked her, pulling his tongue from the feathers on her nape. He felt his tail starting to shake, and trying to keep himself still for her was becoming even more of a challenge by the second. "Do you mind if I, er, thrust?"

"Mmpph," Arla replied, her own breath fast as she prepared herself. "G-go ahead."

With a nod, Demax's claws clenched tighter around Arla's wingblades, his talons poking into her as he held her tight beneath him. As the wind picked him up, she felt his hips suddenly slam down, her rump bouncing from the force of it. She let out a surprised squeak as his legs wrapped around her, his movements speeding up as he thrusted into her. Her wings faltered at the surprise, and with a sudden lurch he humped her again. For a few heartbeats, they fell downwards, Demax over and around Arla. Arla moved one of her own talons to her clit, rubbing it with the dull side. She felt slight pain from his rough mating, the sensation overwhelming, realizing that it only strengthened her enjoyment. Arla barely even noticed as the air rushed past her closed eyes because of the sensation of Demax's thrusting, the larger drake pushing into her in just the right spots, like this sort of ravaging was just what her body was made for.

Arla was lost in pleasure for a few moments as Demax rutted her, her feathers blasted by the wind as gravity pulled the two mating dragons down. Finally regaining her senses, she opened her eyes to see the lake careening towards them, their reflections growing closer as they fell. "Demax!" she squeaked, the last part of his name coming it with more of a moan as he thrusted against her again while she said it. Her wings fluttered open, prodding Demax's membranes as her back slammed up into him from the lift. "Open your wings!"

"Right!" Demax yelped, lost in Arla himself. Clutching around her again, he stretched his own wings open wide, and the two slowed, flying horizontally again.

Arla laughed, glad they hadn't fallen into the lake together, before turning her head back to give Demax a nip on his nose. He decided to take that as a sign all was right, and gave her a playful growl, before biting her lightly on the back of her neck. She squealed happily as his fangs poked into her, stiffening up in surprise when Demax thrusted again. His hips had began to move faster, his tail like a whip in the air as they glided.

The warm sensations began to pulse between Arla's hindlegs, Demax shoving himself in and out of her slick sex. She let out another moan as he pulled on her scruff harder, his talons tightening around her. With each of his humps, she grinded back against him, bouncing in rhythm as his hips slammed into hers. Scales moved up and down on her back, and she felt herself clench up, the feathers on her hindlegs press tight to each other. Demax kept going, Arla's breath faster than his as a whine escaped her, the talon on her clit pushing down on it in circles. With a loud squeal that roared over the wind, the heat escaped her loins, the tingly sensation spreading into the rest her body, even her wings contracting again as the pleasure pulsed across them. Demax clutched around her in surprise, his wings beating doubly hard to carry her as she moved herself back half up and down mid-air, riding out her orgasm.

Even with the extra weight from Arla, Demax kept his pace going, speeding up once Arla regained the capacity to fly. Still, he kept himself curled around her, his jaws latched onto her neck, breathing in the strong scent that wafted through her feathers. He felt the end of his member twitch as her warm slit clenched around it, and buried it deep in her. His hindlegs pulled her up against him, talons wrapped around her thigh keeping her body in place even through the tumultuous winds.

Arla let out another huff as she felt a bulge form in the back of her slit, expanding into her sensitive entrance. She wondered when she'd thought about him in her own time, but hadn't known for certain that Demax had a knot until now! There were so many fun things that she thought they could do with that, but they'd have to wait until another time -- after a few moments and another thrust, her slit had tightened around the thick bulb, and the two were locked tight to each other, Demax's hips stuck to Arla's.

A low growl was let loose from the golden drake as he finally gave into his instincts, his clamp on Arla's neck tightening. There was no more room left form him to thrust, and the tingling in his tip was suddenly released, and with a roar, his seed plunged into her. Arla squirmed and murmured as his fangs sunk deeper into her neck, loving the feeling of Demax taking hold of her with his jaws, using her to satisfy his primal urges. Warmth again spread into her belly, this time, as Demax's hot seed filled her. More growls sounded from behind her ears as he held himself around her, his member throbbing as his hips tugged back and forth, his knot pulling at the entrance.

With a few more humps, with little room to do so between them, Demax's grip relaxed, his breath slow. Arla felt his seed slosh around as she kept her wings still in the quiet night air, the sensation of his thick member still kept inside her. She looked back towards the golden drake as the instinct in his emerald eyes faded, craning her head to give him a lick on his snout. Demax returned it, his tongue whetting the feathers on Arla's maw before sensually running down her jaws and neck.

As his claws' grip on her thighs released, Arla tried to turn around, hoping to get a better look at Demax. Suddenly, she realized she was quite unable to, her slit tied to the base of his knot. She pulled, wincing as she realized it was stuck tight in her, and she was unable to get loose. In her twist to move, she let out a yelp as the wind under her wings tried to flip her over.

"Arla!" Demax said, grabbing onto her to try and steady her in a moment of panic. He latched his claws around one of her wings, only to feel himself pulled down with her by his hips, yelping himself as he struggled to keep them aloft. Her let her wings go to see a frightened Arla hanging upside-down beneath him, flailing her wings as she tried to get herself back in position. Demax's wings strained as the two slowly started to fall, Demax lucky Arla was light enough they weren't just plummeting like a rock.

"I'll try to land!" Demax gulped, feeling himself drop a little as Arla kept struggling. He quickly spotted a snowy hill on the side of the lake, only a short distance away. "Stay calm!"

Arla squawked frightenedly at him, before she steadied her breath, trying to keep her wings in the right direction. She gave Demax a nervous glance upwards, staring at their locked hips. She would have found the sight of him stuck in her arousing, the small bulge of her feathers around the entrance to her slit, had they not been flying while it had happened! She was starting to regret not trying to mate on the ground for their first time. It would have been so much easier!

With a burst of energy, Demax flapped his wings forward, tilting them down before banking, Arla let out a squeak as the snow beneath her suddenly lurched closer, and a moment later the two had plummeted into it, piled over the both of them. Arla shut her eyes as it drenched her feathers, covering her.

"Arla, are you alright?" Demax asked, poking his head out of the hole the two had made in their fall. He looked around, his tail and hips still buried. "Arla!"

"I'm fine!" Arla laughed as she pulled herself out from the snow, looking down and brushing it away with her wings to see that they were still attached. "I'm cold, and kinda full of you at the moment, but barely a scratch! Except for the ones you made."

"Oh, thank the stars," Demax sighed in relief, letting out a laugh himself at the situation. Arla carefully rolled herself over, getting onto her paws and climbing over onto Demax. The gold grunted as she plopped herself down on his warm belly, placing her snout to his while she wiggled her hips, pulling his with her. It seemed like it would be a bit longer before she'd be able to get free.

Demax wrapped his wings around her, and looked up as the two curled tails. His tongue flicked against hers, nuzzling each other while they looked into each other's eyes.

Arla's claws gently tapped along Demax's neck as she looked up into the sky. Though it might not have been as beautiful as on the peak Demax had brought her to, it was still full of stars. She let out a happy sigh as she cuddled against Demax, ignoring the cold on her feathers as she buried herself down into his warm scales, covered with his wings.

"That was wonderful," Arla murmured to him, "well, most of it."

"Yeah," Demax grimaced. "I was not expecting it to end like that."

Arla giggled and poked him in the nose with her talons, holding herself still as the two were locked in their embrace. Grey clouds in the sky passed over them, a sprinkle of snow melting on Demax's scales.

Finally, Demax's knot deflated enough, and Arla placed her hind paws behind Demax's wings, using them to pull her hips upwards. With a pop, his member fell from her slit, seed dripping onto his scales. She rested her hips back down, keeping his shaft warm under her feathers until it retreated back into his slit, and wiggling her rump seductively on it before giving him another lick on his snout.

Demax placed one of his front paws behind her neck, gently stroking the feathers on it. He closed his eyes, returning the lick, before suddenly opening them back up in alarm. "Wait, what if I got you with eggs?"

"Oh," Arla blinked, realizing that she hadn't really thought about that until now. She placed a paw on her belly, rubbing the down as a little more of the gold's seed leaked from her. There wasn't much chance of her not getting with egg after that. "Er, yeah . . . I think we're going to have a clutch."

"I mean, I'm not opposed to raising hatchlings," Demax replied. Whatever happened, he'd stay by Arla's side. Still, he winced. "Your father? What will he think?"

Arla sighed. She was going to have to explain this to him, wasn't she? He wouldn't be happy that she'd taken Demax as a mate. Still, maybe he'd warm up to him. "Well, our palace does have plenty of room. I suppose a few hatchlings won't crowd it up too much." Arla looked back into Demax's eyes, and placed a paw on his breastplate. She gave him a smile. The future was uncertain, but now, it seemed bright and full of hope. "From now on, any challenge we face, we'll face together."

With that, the two dragons rested together in the snow as the stars looked down on them.