FSE

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Two Weeks 11

After the attack, Dr. Mertezi retreated back into the observation room, and made straight for the first aid kit he kept near the door for just such an occasion. This was not the first time he had been hurt by a wyvern, far from it, though it was the only time Mark, nicknamed 'Fox' for his nephew's sake, had attacked him.

"Certainly a marked increase in aggression." He spoke as he peeled off his ruined lab coat, the cloth around his wound ruined. His fur clung to the material, and made him wince from the few bloody punctures in his shoulder. What more, every move he made hurt terribly from the two ribs Mark had cracked. "Doesn't look like they went in too deep." The doctor grabbed an aerosol can from the kit and sprayed it directly onto the four wounds the wyvern's talons had made. With a hiss, from both the can and the rabbit, a foam layer was sprayed over the area to disinfect and seal them off. Next he pulled a needle-less injector and administered a strong antibiotic he'd developed for the strains unique to the garden, as well as a mild pain killer.

"There we go. Now what are those two up to?" He grabbed a roll of bandages, then turned to look at the wall-length screen on the far side of the room. It had a live feed from the other room, a feat considering it was likely in another galaxy. Seconds ticked by nearly half again faster there, so the picture looked like a time lapse. What he saw surprised him little. Alan was tucked under a wing, and seemed quite preoccupied.

"Think they could use a moment of privacy. Computer," there was a little chirp from a speaker in the ceiling, "show me the latest scans of subject four's eggs."

After a moment a window popped up, and as he wrapped his ribs, he examined the screen. It was a three dimensional, still model that gave a fantastic view of a quartet of eggs, one notably larger than the rest. Within the smaller three were coiled, snake-like forms, while in the pick of the litter a larger, more birdlike form had taken shape. He used various on-screen controls to look over them all, layer by layer, and even had the option to see their development over time.

"Skeletal structure is shaping up nicely, organs seem to be developed." He continued commenting to noone in particular. The doctor was genuinely pleased things were going so well, and smiled, but resisted a laugh to himself. "But I need to get another up-to-date scan," he stroked his chin with his good arm as he thought, "doubt he'll let me close again, don't care to risk it either. Well, I'm sure Alan would be eager to help."

A familiar warble from over the speakers drew him out of his examination.

"Computer, pull up the live feed." The screen minimized, and Mark and Alan were nowhere to be seen. The sound was Marra. The large wyvern had just lumbered into the other room, and called to him in her usual way. Not quite as spry as he would have liked, he made his way back through the false door to meet her.

"What is wrong?" He had learned how to read her body language over the last couple years, and had made great strides teaching her basic English. Through a series of head bobs, movements of her wings, and nuanced sounds that he still had great trouble grasping, he gathered a rough translation of 'who is the little you?' He explained to her about his nephew, that he was to be around for a while.

"You can trust him, I know the boy." She gave him an inquiring look, then motioned to ask about Mark; the gesture she'd settled upon for him was to draw her wings to either side, and arch her hips forward a moment. "Yes, I'm sure he'll be okay, and last I checked the eggs are okay as well."

She cooed gently. Though she had an idea about her young already, to hear the rabbit say it was a relief. Victor extended an arm, which Marra settled her broad muzzle against. She dwarfed the smaller mammal, but unlike all the others she had encountered in her life, he was the only one she was okay with. Even so, she looked distressed.

"I promise, things will be okay. I've thought of everything," and that familiar smile returned to the doctor's face. "Besides, if things go the way I've planned, you should see the first of your young quite soon."

~~~

'I can't believe this is really happening.' Mark thought to himself as he lumbered along a couple paces behind Alan. 'I couldn't even talk to him before, now I'm with him and can't talk at all.' He winced visibly as there was a firm jolt inside his gut from one of the eggs. It seemed to set off the others, and in moments he was drawn to a standstill. From his hunched angle the ovipouch within his body was settled squarely against his internal testes, and as a result they constantly thumped against one another as he moved. Thankfully there was practically no pain from the over-plumped organs, but every impact and jostle served as a reminder of the pressure they contained. A full month of pent-up semen, all demanding a reprieve from the barrier that kept them sealed away.

He shifted his gaze forward, to Alan's form once again. The rabbit walked with just his shorts on, and Mark practically gawked at the site. The wyvern was simply astonished at how the rabbit accepted him, even though he was some great beast.

Mark recognised where they were headed, that same lake he'd been accosted by tentacles. Another crested hill later and the mirror-smooth body of water came into view. From the angle it looked as though a slice of the whirling rusty storms above them had been cut from the sky to adorn its surface. Until then he had not really taken the time to look around the world. Always he kept his head down, kept himself distracted with this or that, anything to try to escape the moment.

The view was simply astonishing, he had to admit.

"Come on!" Alan waved him along, already half way to the water's edge. By the time Mark caught up, the rabbit had knelt beside a plaque placed atop a blue stripe that ran all along the shore. he was balanced upon the balls of his feet, bent knees splayed to either side, with the material of his shorts stretched taut over his sheath. He still had cum-soaked soil stuck to his rear.

"Water is fed from below by a natural hot spring," Alan read aloud, "an anemone-like filter feeder lives at the bottom." Mark looked at the square sign, rather bewildered, "While invasive, they pose no risk. Local species use it as a standard for bathing." It went on, but he stopped there to look at the daunting form beside him.

Again and again the wyvern's coppery eyes darted over the words, but none of it made any sense. They looked like they were letters, but he just couldn't make heads or tails of a single word.

"Well," the word was punctuated by a grunt as the teen pushed himself to stand, "sounds interesting, I'm game to try anything once." He hooked both thumbs around the waist of his shorts, slid them around to his hips, then bent over double as he pushed them down right to his ankles. Again Mark could not help but stare, though when Alan caught his gaze he could not hide his embarrassment. though he could not blush. He felt his face flush, and tucked it under a wing. His furred partner couldn't stifle a giggle and stepped out of the shorts.

"Fox," Mark peeked out from behind the membrane after a moment, only to be hit square in the muzzle by the rabbit's shorts. The lapine kicked them up, and as luck would have it the hem caught on his hide and made the waistband drape right over his nose. He gasped sharply in surprise, which made the sticky material cling all the more to his face. The powerful musky aroma hit him in an instant. A mix of Smith's cum, and the raw male scent from the giggling bunny across from him. The shock from its intensity made him whip his head back, and sent them flying once again, right into the water. It left behind a wet patch, though it was little worse than the tangled, matted mess his remaining fur had become.

Just as Alan set foot in the water, the shorts were pulled under and dragged closer to the center of the lake. He watched them just at the water's surface, though he could tell that there was some activity, they were just ripples in the storms. He paused to watch for a full minute until finally they were released and floated back to the surface, though well out of reach. Another few steps and a smile spread on his face.

"Ooo... It's warm. He stopped as he strode out, water up just past his knees. You coming?" Mark still hesitated at the edge, eyes going back and forth between the water and his partner. "Come on!" He goaded and waved him forward, "you need it anyway, you're a mess. Oh!" He jumped as he felt a tentacle brush against his leg, then another and another, each probing through his fur. There was a gentle constant tug at each of their tips, but nothing that really seemed anything to worry about.

The surprised cry was enough to make Mark spring to a choice, and he splashed out into the water, though nervously. To his ankles was about as deep as he'd cared to go since his first run in, just enough to relieve himself and move on. Though as Alan made his way into warmer, deeper water, he felt obligated to follow. That familiar, strange feeling of countless odd tendrils returned. Though he could scarcely see them, he felt as they sucked away as his scales, tugging at each one in turn as he sunk into deeper water.

When he dipped the end of his tail into the water, he felt them go into what felt like a frenzy. the fur had long since matted nearly solid, but they made quick work of it. Then, as soon as it was clean, and it had stopped making the water cloudy, they retreated. A squeal from Alan once again drew his attention, but the fit of laughter that followed eased his worry.

The rabbit had gotten out waist deep, both paws gripped an ear as he was thrown into a fit of ticklish giggling, all the while he danced in place. The tentacles had found his rear and were in the process of working through the fur, right down in between his thighs. Still more arrived and sucked along his sheath and balls, and the stimulation soon had his shaft poking into the water. In only a moment a trio of tendrils were upon it, each coiled around one side of the tip, drawing warm water over the sensitive skin as they worked diligently in tight patterns.

"I could get u-hoohoo," he gasped as his knees buckled in a burst of pleasure. Just as another tentacle had begun to probe against the rim of his sheath, another had arrived under his tail. "Could get used to this," he completed his thought and looked back over his shoulder, head just at water-level and clenched up in hope that it would lose interest. Though it spent a bit longer, soon it moved along to his side with a band of others, all making quick work of the mess in his fur.

Meanwhile Mark watched nervously. He still was not too sure he trusted these things, but there was little chance he'd refuse a request from the one he's had a crush on for ages. The wyvern tried to squat in place, but it was uncomfortable, and there was little chance he'd be able to get his mane clean that way. 'May as well,' he thought to himself and made his way into deep water. His wings were a tremendous drag, though as he relaxed them and splayed the broad limbs to either side his progress was made that much easier. The heat from the spring soaked into his muscles and soothed aches that had set in long ago. As the broad membranes between his fingers heated, so did the rest of his body, as though in a sauna.

A long, contented churr spilled from his throat as he allowed himself to sink right down under the surface, nose just poked free long enough to take a lungful of air. Save for the milky clouds that spread from his fur, the water was crystal clear, and afforded him a perfect view of the dozens of tendrils that snaked up from a dark pocket below. They worked through the line along his back fervently as many more went over his scales. Each one felt like a tiny pluck, and after a closer inspection he spotted the countless black flecks that were drawn into the translucent tentacles. Though the light was muted underwater, he still saw the shift from dull black, to fiery reds and orange hues.

He kept still as the team that fed on his fur made it to the top of his head, and still more made their way up along his broad neck. The bizarre sensation made him shake his head, but when a pair pressed into his nostrils he snorted sharply and darted for the surface. Though they followed with him, as soon as they reached air they turned their attention to what still lay in the water. With that distraction gone, his focus turned to the constant attention between his legs. Though a few tentacles had made their way across the surface of his shaft, it was soon left ignored, the slick surface kept quite clean on its own. Instead he felt the constant jostling of no less than a dozen tendrils within the folds of his cloaca. They sucked up along the inner rim, flush with the tender skin, and cleaned out every little crevice. What more, the heat from the water, and the constant suction made him all the more sensitive.

Mark had closed his eyes, and stood there panting from the intense stimulation. The tendrils had made their way down around the base of his shaft, then back in against the cusp of his oviduct. The touch made him shiver and rumble deeply. Then movement in the water nearby, ripples from Alan, got his attention.

"Wow, you really were filthy!" Alan giggled as he spotted the newly-colored wyvern. "Look at you, all red and glistening. Bet you get all the mates!" The rabbit teased, which drew yet another bout of modesty from the transformed fox. Even after all he had gone through, Mark was finally happy. There under the red glow of the planet above, bathed in heat, with the one person in the world that makes everything okay.

The tendrils treating his sensitive loins did not let up or go away, rather they seemed to try harder to get to his slit, while another joined in the fray every few moments. He had begun to leak fluids from his duct, and they were attracted to its presence in the water. Mark craned his head back and his knees wobbled. Had buoyancy not had a hold on him, he would have fallen right to the floor. Rather, the wyvern rose up onto his thick-taloned toes, claws dug into the silt. Then, as his head and tail craned up in either direction he felt a cramp that made his face screw into a look of displeasure.

The classic thought that he swam too soon after a meal registered in Mark's mind, and he pushed off toward the shore. Though, he could not escape the persistent tendrils; they dogged his every move. Finally he growled and tried forward again with renewed effort. 'Right, that's enough of...that?' His thought was cut short when he felt a distinct pressure change deep in his gut. The sudden presence of several tendrils inside of him stopped him in his tracks, and pulled a deep warble from his throat. However, they had not forced their way inside, rather his body just relaxed and allowed them entry as though by reflex.

One after another, the finger-thin tendrils probed into him. The many squirming lengths that lined his walls aided still more to poke their way between them, and worm deeper. Many clung to the flesh within his tunnel, and worked in circles to suck up the fluids that seeped it. Mark managed another step forward, but found that he could not stand up, nor even see straight. Pleasure flooded his mind, and forced him to fold his wings down, knuckles set into the soft lake bed.

"Fox?" Alan's voice cut through the haze in his mind, and he looked over to the rabbit. The wyvern's pause had piqued his curiosity. "You okay?" Mark trilled softly in reply, then after some embarrassed hesitation he looked back toward his rear. Another sudden cramp in his gut made him grunt and wince, but try as he might, he just could not take another step. They had no real hold of him, strength was not the issue, it was willpower. Some urge, some overbearing desire demanded he stay right where he was.

A warm, wet touch against his flank confirmed just where Alan had moved to. "Here, let me see." That touch turned to a firm pressure, and he followed its direction naturally with a lift of his tail, right until it coiled over his back. Water streamed down from his saturated fur, and dripped over his freshly exposed scale; their patterns and hues loosely matched the planet overhead.

The lapine was stomach deep in the heated water behind Mark. He took special care to avoid stepping upon any of the tendrils that spanned the lake bed, then got a closer look at where they were all headed. Though the reflections made it more difficult to see, it was quite clear what they were up to. Uncertain whether or not to interfere, he opted to watch.

"Are they supposed to do that?" The question fell upon deaf ears as hormones flooded his system. The tendrils had found his inner sphincter, the barrier that had held his eggs, and the fluids around them, in check. It was dilated, and widened more as his belly was swiftly drained.

At that point, Alan drew a deep breath, then went under for a better view. The tendrils did an incredible job, as his view was crystal clear. The wyvern's shaft hung between his legs, coiled against his thigh, twisting one way then the other as it sought after stimulation. Mark's recoiled posture positioned his oviduct straight out behind him, but all the lapine could see was the incredible sight of the passage spread wide around the countless tendrils. He had no idea what they were up to deep inside.

As Alan went up for air, the anemone-like intruder plunged deeper. Mark could do little more than shiver and chur. His gut had felt swollen so long, and the relief of pressure was an ecstasy in an of itself. As the tentacles raced across the inner walls of his belly, he felt them sweep over his eggs as well. The strange massage from within felt bizarre, but entirely pleasurable. While a part of him still wanted to flee, that instinctual need kept him fastened in place.

"I think they're starting to pull away." Alan spoke up again, eyes never leaving the incredible sight. "Amazing," he spoke aloud to himself "just incredible," and called forth Mark's modesty once again. Though, as the rabbit's paw drew over his scaled hide, a feeling of pride welled inside him. Those words were about him. He was amazing. He was incredible.

While many tendrils had indeed retreated, a dozen stayed behind. Even with their combined widths, his passage gaped around them, and the vacancy they left behind was filled rapidly by heated spring water, sucked inside by the combined efforts of the many vacuum-tipped suckers. Inside him, the surface of the eggs had been cleaned, though their occupants were made all the more restless from the jostling. After many long minutes, the tendrils withdrew from inner pouch, one by one. As they left, the eggs within him shifted, and another cramp lashed through his gut.

This time the pain did not subside immediately, and caused him to clamp down tight around the tendrils that still clung to the walls of his oviduct. Their reaction was near instant, as soon as they had been squeezed they withdrew to just beyond his slit, then floated there for several moments. The stitch in his abdomen grew worse, and the pain was enough to urge him toward the shore. Every step was a laborious process, though before he could raise his hips from the water, he was stopped dead in his tracks. His passage had flexed once again, dilated wider than ever. Milky fluids leaked from his walls, and those little tendrils were there in an instant to capture every last bit. Mark tried to clench again but found his body would not cooperate.

A yelp from Alan caught his ear and acted as a momentary distraction. He turned on shaky limbs, and saw the rabbit with a look of bliss on his face. With his hips just under the water, his shaft and sheath were under a constant barrage, though he did not mind in the slightest. Had the lapine's eyes not been glued to the scene that unfurled before him, they would have rolled the the back of his head. No less than four tentacles danced over his shaft at a time, each fought the others to get at the slit which leaked a copious pre. When they were pushed away, they went for the rim of his sheath repeatedly, until one managed to wriggle in alongside his length, down to the root, and brought with it a new, strange pleasure. Heated water was drawn in through the gaps, then sucked away my the tendril, along with the musky fluids that had collected there naturally.

The rabbit's hips rocked as he enjoyed the moment. A groan built in his chest as his shaft grew more sensitive with every little suction to his tip. Finally he moved to shoo them away, knees weak below him, but they would not be dissuaded easily. Each time he swept one to the side, the others would take its place. It was little use to fight them, they were lightning quick in the water. After many more gasps and moans of over-bearing pleasure, Alan finally just wrapped both paws around his shaft, one entirely around the tip, the other just behind. Even as he retreated to shallower waters, they persisted and drew water between his fingers.

It was again Mark's turn to cry out, a bellow louder than ever, roared to the sky for all the world to hear. For a moment the former fox was shocked that such a sound could have come from him, but a new contraction ripped an even louder cry from his throat. He felt the masses within his gut shift and turn, until one finally felt seated in place. The sensations and feelings brought into being when that egg was in position to lay were strange and alien to his mind, but his body was fully prepared. Waves of euphoria washed out through his form, focused and spreading from the base of his spine.

His toothy maw lay agape, his breath sharp and heavy, eyes glazed. Slowly he instinct began to guide his actions. The wyvern took several slow, lumbering steps forward, then pushed his rear end up and out of the water. As the surface tension broke, a torrent of water poured from his passage, white threads of his natural lubricant hung in the water only moments before the tendrils were upon them. Though their latest food source had gone away, they continued to feast on the steady trickle along his thighs that flowed from Mark's cloaca.

In water shallow enough to expose his fine-scaled stomach, the birthing figure lowered his head right down to the water's surface, chin hovered in place. All his focus had shifted to this act his body demanded he perform. He hardly felt in control of his actions, rather it was as he were on autopilot. Pangs of pain were dispersed by continued waves of euphoria, and soon he found himself groaning. With a long, steadying breath he knew it was time.

All his effort, all his focus came together for a single, powerful push. Every muscle in his body contracted as he felt the first egg shunted down into his oviduct a short ways. As he let up it slipped back inside a fraction, but the insistent pressure from the other three eggs still inside stopped it in its tracks. The overwhelming urge to lay hit him full force once again, and he bore down with every bit of strength he could muster. As it progressed this time, he felt it nestle into his tight tunnel, and compress against his over-sensitive, over-filled testes. Though he was little aware of it, the shells were slightly giving. That fact did him little good when the next contraction kicked in.

He felt his internal balls shunted to the side as the egg stretched him wide, and it was then he was reminded of Alan's presence. The rabbit had moved to watch the scene, and while he had to keep a paw wrapped protectively around his shaft, the curious teen could not bear to go anywhere. The event that unfurled before him was too incredible.

"You're doing incredible, keep it up," He offered the wyvern words of encouragement, though he thought better than to touch, lest this wyvern was anything like his mother when giving birth, prone to lash out at anything around her. A long, warbling moan vibrated the air, and with another firm push the first egg popped past his balls, and settled into the void just within his oviduct. The blue and green copper-flecked shell became visible for the first time, in stark contrast to the wyvern's vibrant red cloaca, and black shaft.

"Oh, I can see it!" Alan called out in excitement. The paw wrapped around his tip squeezed and stroked at it slowly and deliberately. After a minute of watching, he allowed one of the tendrils that had been so eager to get suck around the seams of his digits entry past his thumb. It went straight for his tip, though this time he felt he could take the pleasure, as long as he kept his grip.

Another push brought the egg to crown. His flesh stretched tight around the curved form, and the pressure compressed the base of his shaft, causing it to throb harder than it had in ages. A familiar desperation crept into his mind, a need to have release, a climax. His body spasmed, and made him bear down once again. The wyvern cried out and warbled as he managed to get it a third of the way free. The strain had already begun to eat away at his stamina. His breath was sharp and heavy, his heart raced, his shaft ached, and his balls screamed for an orgasm.

He spotted Alan out of the corner of his eye. How the rabbit ogled at him. The look made him shiver from head to toe, and made him clench for a moment. In an instant the egg was squeezed back inside, into the pocket, flush with his testes. The passenger within had grown ever more restless from all the movement, and they began thumping against the shell from within, eager to be free.

Mark's mind drifted as the waves of pleasure, and the effects of new hormones grew more and more intense. After a breath that stretched his lungs to capacity, he bore down heavily. Once again it crowned, and began to push free. Its surface gleamed in the planet-light, and just as it reached its half-way point, the wyvern let out a triumphant bellow. In a rush of fluids the egg, approaching the size of Alan's head, popped free with a heavy squelch and fell into the water. It, along with the milky substance that dripped from his slit, was set upon immediately by a flurry of tentacles.

His body gave him little pause, as another contraction set in, and compressed the second egg in against his testes. Whether it was from the euphoria that flooded his system, or the change to his anatomy, Mark cared neither way, just blissfully unaware of any real pain from the surging pressure upon them. He felt more in tune with his body, so when another cramp hit his gut, he was prepared. Again he pushed with all his might, and just as the second egg popped forward to crown, the third settled in place against his balls from the other side.

The squeeze from both of them made his eyes go wide, and his jaw fell slack. The fact that his aching shaft ground constantly against his belly helped little to lay the eggs, but it gave him a very curious way to feel the way his muscles flexed around the forms within him, and the near constant thumping from the life inside resonated right down to the glistening tip.

Behind him, the rabbit dipped into the water, and peered at the round form settled on the lake bed. The tentacles had left it be soon after they got to it, the surface already quite clean. This left his view unobstructed. He saw it jostle and jerk around as something thumped from within, then a small mound began to well out on one side.

Above him, another heavy contraction ripped though the wyvern's form. Though the terrific bellow he let loose was muted by all the water, Alan could still see the strain in the creature's muscles. As he came up for another gulp of air, he got a perfect look as the second egg began to crown. It made better progress than the first, the tough speckled shell nearly half free before Mark had to let up. His insistent push had moved the third egg forward before its sibling had fallen free, so as soon as he relaxed for just a moment, the crowned shell popped inside a short ways, about a third exposed. It was held there by the next line, held squarely between his fattened testes.

The wyvern's breath caught in his throat, and his talons tug deeper into the silt, then with a trilling squeal he put all his might into the next push. The pressure was too intense. Mark swore that he felt himself cum right them and there. His prostate spasmed, his balls drew in, but for all its effort, not a drop made it past that ever-present blockage. As he rode waves of orgasm, both eggs in his passage made rapid progress outward. The crown grew wider, to the midpoint of the shell, then popped out naturally with a burst of fluid. Not a moment passed before the the third settled into the same spot, its coppery surface exposed to the air. With a triumphant roar, and a quiver that ran through his body from the tip of his tail, to his head, and back again he pushed once again, eager to have the mass out of him once and for all. It, along with most of the rest of the fluid in Mark's gut flooded down into the tentacle-churned water, and he finally got a chance to breath.

Alan watched every moment, jaw agape, speechless, but unbelievably aroused. His intense interest in the exotic had always been a guiding factor in his life. The zebra at the restaurant, his want to be a biologist, even joining the track and field team was for the menagerie of other species there. To see this incredible, intelligent beast in such a beautiful act, he could not help himself. The paw clasped round his shaft had not been idle for a moment. It squeezed and stroked, all the while the tip had the single tendril he allowed past his grip. What finally set him off was the sight of the wyvern's hindquarters moments after the last egg splashed into the lake.

His black shaft almost shon in the world glow, coiled right around against the inside of his red-scaled thigh; the tip twitched constantly, and the entire length of it throbbed visibly. His long, thick tail was curled high over his back, with the damp, furry tip hung limp. The wyvern's oviduct had been stretched and left gaping. Its walls continued to twitch and flex, but could not quite manage to close.

The contractions had stopped, and Mark was thankful for that. His stomach felt more relaxed than it had in ages. No longer stretched taught around eggs. Then a thump from inside his gut startled the wyvern. He gathered the strength to move, then rose and looked at his belly. After so much effort he expected it to just be all over, but he had only laid three. There was one left, but by the way he felt he knew that it was over for the moment.

On unsteady legs, Mark turned around in time to see Alan's face in a fading grimace of pleasure. Joy welled within him when he knew he was responsible for that look. That joy swelled as he turned his attention lower, to the trio behind him. Only a couple tendrils were left in the water nearby, and allowed for an easy view. The shell of the first he had laid bulged out sharply at one side, and all the while it rocked this way and that. The wyrmlings inside were eager to be free, and soon all three were hard at work. Little by little the shells tore, and the last vestiges of goo began to leak into the water.

"They're hatching." The rabbit had recovered enough to observe the process along with Mark, though he was slightly distracted with the suctioning tentacle near his shaft. As each shell tore, more tentacles made their way over to draw in the murkied waters.

"If that's the case," a voice called from the shore, "you should to get out of the water immediately. I'm told they're very hungry upon hatching." It was his uncle, along with Marra. They had been attracted by all the racket Mark had made, "and I'm still uncertain to the extent of their diet."

Alan's reaction was immediate, and he made his way for the shore, to his water-logged shorts. Victor turned his head away, to give his nephew some measure of privacy, but the huge female wyvern beside him did not take her gaze off him for a moment.

Mark was not far behind his small companion, and as he came ashore he once again positioned himself between Alan and Marra. His eyes never left the doctor.

"Looks like your first labor went well. One down, one to go." That ever present smile on Dr. Mertezi's face grew wider.

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