Time, you traitor
Time, you traitor ~~SnowDragon
So, work keeps me busy, very busy, and I don't often find myself with a lot of time to write anything at all, but nevertheless, I have attempted, as is evident by the very fact you're reading this. My good friend Morak inspired this little piece, and always helps me stay out of dark mental places. When this little bit was written, I truely had no idea where on earth this was going or where it was going, as I'm going in with naught but a very basic idea in hand, so lets see where this one goes, hmm? As always, comments encourage me to write even more. Enjoy!
Writing Time: Two days (Started 8:22pm 02/01/2013, Finished 5:47am, 04/01/2013) Size: 5.9 A4 Pages Soundtrack: Violin Concerto No. 1 - A Minor - OP 99, Clubbed to Death (Kurayamino Variation), Furious Angel.
It had been a long time since the male had walked these paths, a very long time indeed. Many a year had passed since his last trip to these mountains, nearly ten odd years ago. It had been so long, that the path he had so loved to trace as a child had been become so overgrown and warped that he barely recognised it at all. Scents picked up by his powerful nose were all new, and not a signle one he recognised, except maybe the scent of a rare, odd flower. In a way, the very fact made him sad, that his forest had been tainted by the touch of time, like a lover lured by another soul.
But the anger at the corners of his mind also had to grapple with the feelings from the other half of his mind, those of joy and elation that he had finally be able to return to the place he thought gone forever, either by fire, flood or mankind's interruption, it had remained, bloomed and most importantly or all, it had survived against all odds in the modern world, almost untouched save by the fingers of time, gripping tightly onto all it's creations with a fierce grip like nothing other in existance could hope to match.
Time had changed the creation retracing his old forest almost as much as it had changed the forest, and the bright blue eyes took in the sights and smells of the forest with as much joy as it had given him the first time he had ever danced between it's branches, the occasional thread of murky orange fur snagging on an offending shred of bark and clinging to it's new home for all of it's life, but the tiny pangs of nerve response he felt fit to ignore, and in fact barely registered upon his mind. It was a forest like no other in the world, hot vibrant reds and blues in summer, coupled with the scents of hundreds of millions of powerfully scented flowers in mid bloom, beauty of which only matched by it's winter shade of arctic snow accented by greens and purples which poked their tall heads out of the trees to attract all kinds of flittering little hummingbirds and insects alike.
A shadow passed overhead and was gone just as quickly as the joy filled fox slipped his way between two seperate trunks, opting against the long way around just to finally return to the clearing, the place of many a midnight camp and many a sleepless night by choiuce of simply staring up at the stars, not yet violated by light pollution that ruined countless numbers of sights in the night by urban development and their ceaseless need to have everything as bright as day without fail, no matter the time of day. Out here, the only sound was that of the insects and the occasional bird of prey hunting down it's next terrified meal, and one could only imagine what it would have been like to be that bird, amster of your element, fearing nothin-
Crunch. And quickly followed by a sharp squark, cut short, naught but a short rustle of leaves in the air that fell silent to the insects once more. Blinking, he stared about, wondering what kind of master aerial hunter clipped it's own wings and ended up as prey for another critter, surely the most unluckiest and luckiest respectively. Content to relax regardless of such a though, a tree trunk of the forest, thick and ancient as it were was repurposed to act as a backrest, that orange fox losing a few more strands of fur as he pressed up against it and slid down it, much like he might any reclining chair, though this one was a little bit less advanced and far older than any man made chair.
More rustling of the leaves soon followed, accompanied with a soft breath of wind, brushing over and through that soft fur like a caress of nature, welcoming the forest's owner back within it's fold... but there was something off, and it took a few moments for him to realise it. The wind had stopped, and yet the rustling remained, completly audible, as if tempting his curiousity. In the end, the latter won out, and with a firm, final huff, muscles were woken and pulled right back into action as the clothed figure heaved himself right upright and slowly made his way over to the other side of the ten metre clearing. Here, the trees folded to flower bushes, vibrant reds and blues , and he nudged his muzzle through, not much more than a flower itself, save perhaps the fur, but it made for good camouflage nevertheless.
He was both shocked and alarmed to behold a small creature, bathed in a deep shade of purple scales which made up both flesh and protective armour against most forms of assault, glittering with the reflected light of the moon. Dragon, completely without doubt, though the beast was not as big as stories made them out to be, though this was most definatly not a creation of an overaction imagination, and at the very least, the downed bird-of-prey it had pressed between a talon and the cold, unforgiving earth below it spoke volumes to the reality of it all. Maybe... ten, eleven feet if he had to be generous to the description of it's.. or rather his size, that just seemed to click better in his mind than the other choice available to his mind. His impression of a flower had paid off, at least for now, since the other was yet to notice him.
A tinge of red anger clouded his thoughts after a few moments, another had invaded his forest without permission, and as silly as it seemed, had helped time betray her. And before he knew it, firmly without thinking, his dazzling impression of a rather still plant had been replaced, orange fur and black clothing piercing the foilage as the fox burst through, as frightening as he could possibly make it. Surely, if one ever looked back on the moment, it would have been a right shock then as much as it was to the furred critter now. "Just What are you doing in my forest?" And just what had gotten into him was a completely different question, uttered just moments later by the winged lizard who looked just as shocked as he did.
And in fact, just moments ago, had been looking forward to sating his hunger on the feathered bird before and underneath his talons, the dragon could not help but stand there, immbolised by surprise and a good deal of mirth building within his form. The fox must have lost his mind, but the question was repeated with just as much confidence and hate for actions far beyond the understanding of the purple scaled sonic. With a single blink, his eyes flicked to his would-be-meal, laying there stunned on the ground from the initial attack, though the bird would not remain like that forever. So, hoping to rid himself of the offending fur and fabric clad critter, he flicked his eyes over a response, words escaping that powerful, angular maw, teeth glinting in the light unbidden from that of his hunger, though the voice was soft, non-threatening, odd for such a design of voice giving muscles, at least from the outside. "Little fox, this has been my forest for as long as I care to remember."
The creature clad in that deep orange fur took a step back, as if physically struck, mouth half open, mumbling some word or another to himself, definatly male as he took the time to examine his opposite, standing just beyond the flowerbush, and most comically, now looking closer, the look of anger blooming on the fox's muzzle, seriousness of his expression ruined by a handful of flowers that stuck to his clothes and body like glue, like an angry flower maiden or some such children's tale. But this this creature seemed like he could hardly harm a... small flying feathered... And with that little image in mind, the drake could not hold back a snicker any longer, which only seemed to annoy the fox further, though it was hardly his choice. Not often did one smaller than he, and clad in flesh and fur no less decide to tell him where he could and couldn't feed! It was all so ridiclous it was hard-
And so the fox let out an infuriated bark, echoing off the trees, and in one swift moment, yanked a hiking knife some six inches long and flung the razor sharp diamond tipped edge as quick as any thunderstorm might throw a fallen tree into his flight path, and at once the mirth seemed to disappear from the overconfident dragon's face, as with a startled yelp he skittered some meter and a half out of the path of the projectile, first staring at the blade as it ended up lodged in a tree, fluttering with the force of impact into the hardwood before his head turned to the fox, all signs of even the slightest hint of laughter gone from his face, staring in true shock at his shorter opposite, while the furred form glared at the scaled beast, shouting at the top of his lungs, with all the volume he could muster. "Get out of my forest!" and those words saw the bird, which he had preivously thought dead, caught by the dragon for his dinner come back to it's senses and with all the grace of a drunken dancer, stumbled to its feet and took flight before either could do anything about it.
And the dragon, seeing his meal darting off into the sky, beyond the reach of the groundborne apex hunter, left an all too serious snarl escape his lips, a low sound that seemed to reflect and ampify off the trees and surrounding bushes, all turning right back onto his furred form no matter where it might have started from. Perhaps his meal had been the last straw, and only now had his mind decided that maybe this wasn't the best idea he had ever had... This time the words of the beast were far more like one might have expected, deep, booming, commanding and worst of all, angered, stance shifting from peaceful to a much lower, more sleek form... "Enough, fox! A fight it seems you want so come! Take your forest back!"
And so, he did, drawing another knife from his right sock, pulling it into a stance of his own and leaping forth to cross the gap, tot ake his forest back in blood like was always meant for creatures since the dawn of time itself, as much of a thief as she was. Without moving however, the purple drake let out a bark of his own, a halfway silent sound, loud but yet half the noise the sensitive ears of the fox could barely even hear, more akin to a thunderclap than any sound he could ever have imagined coming from another living thing, so loud he could see the soundwaves blistering through the air around him, deflecting and cutting off other solid objects that the forest provided, and it was his turn to stumble, blade falling into the dirt, hands coming to his ears as the follow-on rumble continued to torture his senses.
For moments which turned to minutes he struggled to pull himself upright from his standing yet doubled over position he had not even realised he had fallen into, staring at the dragon with a shocked look of hatred for the other, both surely believing one another invaders into their own territory. ut even as he levered himself upright, another of the same struck him back against a tree with force he wouldn't have expected physically, let alone from a pulse of vibrations in the air that left him breathless, deafened and completely stunned, almost seperated from his body as- Oh no..
Smugness had replaced the expression of the drake as he stared at the body of the fox, trapped as an observer within his own mind, mind abuzz with the ringing of his ears, no two thoughts able to come together over the roar of his senses, struggling to come to grips with what he had just heard. Silent footsteps of the dragon as he approached, whatever noise they created no where near enough to become audible, even as that scaled paw crushed the diamond blade between twin talons like he almost had done to that bird not so long ago in seconds long past, piercing eyes that changed colour from fiery reds to long, solemn blues and all shades inbetween, fox stunned like any bird that he preyed upon, the dragon's words a whisper but each and every syllable a thunderclap in his mind. " Kneel"
Nothing had been holding him up, save for puppet strings even the puppeter had no idea existed, and the single word left the fox doing just that, falling to his knees, back raised as if pinned to the tree trunk, staring up at the dragon with a long, blank and dazed expression plastered across the murky orange fur covering his muzzle, helpless to stop whatever came next, and with the dragon's meal interrupted, he was surely to become the next best option. So he struggled, grappling with his own mind to throw off the slowness the beam of noise had created. For naught, at least, as more of the dragon's words echoed deep within his mind, to places he didn't even know he had, and most disturbingly, talons were slicing through his protective garments, for all the protection they were offering him at just this moment. " Mine..."
Places in his mind constructed details of what was about to happen unbidden to his mind, and without realising it, tortured from both outside and in, but to his own shock, a growl slipped from his furred lips- Wait, he heard that! So, with just the smallest grasp on escape, he pushed, and he pushed ahrd against the barrier around his mind, the echoing rumble of sound in his mind, and before too long at all he had thoughts in his mind, two, then three... and with a half violent, half startled roar, the furred creature had broken right through it, glaring daggers at the other male who had just tried to take his form for his own desires, and he was most certain if he actually had another dagger, he'd have driven it into the male's skull himself, so he used the next best thing, toying with his newfound reach and ability, driving outwards towards the rather amazed looking drake as quickly and with as much power as he could pull from his mind, not at all aware of what he was doing, or if it was all just a fantasy constructed by his mind to avoid the truth of his form becoming a morsel for the purple dragon with control over the element of sound.
Quite suddenly, the armoured lizard was in trouble. His entire body flinched and moved with the invasion of his mind, head curling down around himself, little yips sound and worry escaping that muscled, angular jawline. Within his own mind, most inner place where only he would have ever dared to tread, the fox was there, forcing mental daggers into parts of his mind that... With no abilities to compare of his own, he tried another pulse which had been all too effective before, but couldn't form the air within his throat to create it at his will, as if his body had just stopped responding to all commands his nerves gave it. Knowledge of what he had planned to do to the fox was well and truely within his mind, and that seemed to give the fox ideas.
The daggers within his mind twisted, leaving the drake's body arched upwards, paws and talons stretched out across the ground, tail lifted high into the air and there was nothing he could do, whatsoever in order to stop it. Maybe parts of his own predatory insinct, deep, depp within his thoughts were affecting the inexperienced fox... He cringed at the thought, only drawing a dark little snicker from his would be prey. "Well, aren't you a lovely specimen, hm? I can see why you're often considered kings of the sky, you are. But you invaded my forest, and for that..." He had the ability to speak, and he was just about to force his lips apart to do just that before the paws of the fox swiftly wrapped a fragment of his own shirt tightly around the armoured plates of his muzzle, completely and effectively silencely his words. His body was completely bound by the will of the fox, and his muzzle bound shut, not allowing him the use of his element. If there was a description for helpless, his presenting form was it as the fox slipped up behind himm out of sight but most definatly not out of mind, fur pressing up against his warm scales, vibrating just gently in the air to create a little hum as the orange furred critter ground up against his hindquarters.
And it wasn't long at all before he felt the pressure of another object against his proportioned rump, and it only took a moment of his time to realise, a handful of milliseconds before the fox introduced him to it much more personally, drawing out a deep, yet very obstructed groan as his attacker took complete and full advantage of the dragon's around equal size and roughly pressed his way right into the hilt without any preparation, and the fox seemed to counter the pain with rabid, hard thrusts of his furred hips at once right after their hips, fur and scales made contact at his flesh, drawing out yelps and grunts of pain as he was raped, right here where he had caught his meal, and where he had intended to punish the fox who had stolen it from his belly. The humliation of losing not only a territory dispute, but losing to a two legged fox and not to another dragon left him flushed, and was not helped by the daggers of the beast currently enjoy the fruits of his capture with every single thrust, as with a single twist, against his own will, his dragonhood jumped to full attention, standing exposed in the air between his legs.
"Such a good boy... you know the rules of this game well, don't you?" Worst still, those words were lifted right from his mind, the fox tormenting him stealing his own personality to make it happen, his eyes closing as he hoped with all his might that no other dezien of the forest discovered what was happening at just his moment, but that only seemed to drive the fox further with long powerful strokes of his hips, rocking the armoured scaled beast forwards. The air brushing past his spire drew little gasp of pleasure into his mind, just enough to counter the pain of being rutted so powerfully asnd firmly without any lubricant wahtsoever, and his attacker was quickly reaching the peak of his own pleasure... and if the dragon knew anythign about himself, it would hardly be the last this night. And he could only blush as his attacker forced his knot up against his battered entrance, stay unknotted, a single bead of preseed forming upon his own tip as the fox came, hard, within his form, hot seed flooding his rump, fox deep in the grips of pleasure.
And it was most certainly not going to be the last this night...