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Settling In

Ikram felt lonely. He had felt the weight of solitude since birth, being born by a union of human and dragon, not unheard of, yet rare enough to make him an oddity at best. He inherited the scale color of his father, a very pale blue of moonlight. The bone-like scales were enough to protect him from most natural and handmade weapons, being tougher than leather.

He shared more traits with his scaled kin than the human form, save for his stand on two strong legs instead of four. Shorter than a dragon's, the splayed claws of his feet enabled him to run fast and move as silent as any predator. His stature towered but a few inches short of three meters, balanced by a sinewy lizard-like tail adorned with retractable barbs ringing the tip, a formidable weapon against any would be assailant.

Across his back were two leathery wings which he had curled narrowly at his back, lacking the muscles in them to do more than glide down steep cliffs with the disproportionate weight. Between them sat long ridges with supporting spines, running from neck to tail. Fine ebon horns crowned his visage, the eyes slitted an icy blue, that of his mother he was told. Although he retained honed claws sharp enough to rend through flesh like so much chaff before the scythe, he also wielded a double-edged spear handcrafted by himself, leaving no opening in his defense for the occasional bandit or highwayman, doubling as a fine roasting stick on the side.

He was accepted among the other dragons with his father as the clan's leader, though the contact with his kin was rather that of toleration than any real sense of family. He had decided to leave shortly before reaching his maturity, considering some tribal rituals that might be rather awkward if not outright embarrassing for one of his stature, not to mention for the respect of his father. He never knew his mother or been able to wheedle out much from his father about her, only that she was a servant of nature and that she would have raised him if she could. Ikram was accompanied by his very trusty gryphon, a male named Dagur.

Dagur was hatched from his egg the same hour as Ikram tapped free from his own, having seemingly waited for his arrival into the world. And they had been inseparable ever since; Dagur became his wings and gave him all the comfort of a companion, more than he thought he deserved at times, but it only took a warm lick from the feathered half of his scales to bring him out of darker thoughts, and a quick tussle as the gryphon nipped at his horns to have them both rolling in laughter again.

Gryphons were the dragons' pets and wary guardians; they were cautious when the dragons underwent hibernation during winter, and the great beasts of fur and feather were near to shoulder height for a dragon, fending off many a cowardly hoard-stealer or dragon slayer foolish enough to brave their sight in the darkness of night. Though hardly lacking intelligence in their steely gaze, they had yet to grasp or even seem to care for the complexity of speech possessed of humans and dragons, harsh cries and soft warbling croons filling the air around their own nests.

Pearly white feathers washed over his broad wings and settled over his eagle-like head, running down to the fine amber curve of his beak to form a slight hook at the stone-sharpened edge. And at the same place as Ikram's horns twitched a pair of long pointed ears, swiveling quickly toward the softest pitch. His feathers gradually shifted to faintly gold-tipped fur, laced with darker stripes comparable to a tiger while the gnarled claws of his forearms and powerfully built hindlegs stood in equal contrast.

Together they had departed the clan but a few months before, the scent of spring still fresh in the summer's heat. He and his father both knew he wouldn't remain with the clan the rest of his life. No dragoness would join her heart with his; indeed, even if he'd been able to fly, most of them still treated him as a grounded hatchling compared to the young courting males, and any one of the proud drakes would gladly issue challenge to him taking the traditional role as heir had he desired it. But he had Dagur, and that was enough for now.

Each mile crossed over the horizon gave them a sense of freedom and the simple joy of living, and the occasional adventure more often than not. With no particular goal in mind to aim for other than a vague sense of searching out his mother, they had drifted a great distance already from the lofty cliffs encircling his father's territory, tossed about in the ever-shifting wind currents.

Searching for a new place to call home, Ikram chose to trace the outspreading river roots from the mountain range his prior clan dwelled in. It led them over what felt like an endless sea of meadow and forest as the moon passed a full cycle above them, until they finally came upon the crumbling, yet still towering onyx spires of a long forsaken fortress. As he signaled for Dagur to land with a telling scritch behind an ear, concerns grown over the course of their travels about the oncoming season rose to his conscious thoughts once again.

Gryphons mate during late summer and autumn until the chilling frost of winter, through which they would guard and incubate their nests and hope the young would hatch during spring. Since dragon clans domesticated these creatures to guard their own hoards during winter, gryphons had become rather rare in the wild. Still, he promised himself to one day find a willing female for Dagur and until that day he had learned to help him in other ways, strange as the thought might have been to his own kind.

The fortress was in state of disrepair to say the least as they alighted on a crumbling balcony in the dim corona of evening sunlight, a grim beauty in its jagged columns and spiraling stairways exposed to fresh air and creeping moss, yet still gleaming with vestiges of former glory in the polished stonework. Devoid of any carving to give voice to the past, and unlike any architecture he'd heard mention of in darker days when the great siege-dragons laid waste to the hominid realm, Ikram decided they could not have found a finer aerie to end their vagrant wandering.

Traversing the occasional broken archway and sunken floor, only the echo of their own soft padding and claw clacks returned across the wide galleries, silent within despite the usual din of nocturnal revelry without as they crossed onto yet another balcony, a small maze in its own right, but gradually building a pattern in Ikram's mind once he came to grasp the intricate layout. And so with the dying twilight giving way to breathtaking starlight and pale lunar radiance, they descended to chambers well obscured from an eagle's eye above; and well-sealed from the surrounding forest.

Here light trickled down like so many waterfalls; caught, reflected, and concentrated by crystal formations embedded in the arched ceiling to spread even the faintest glimmer of a twinkling star in shimmering patterns across the walls, only to refract and revert back again towards a wide central dais of the same black rock, with more crystal ringing the edge and their greater heart fixed at the focus. What would happen when light reached the table edge Ikram could only begin to guess, but with the loud rumble of a hungry gryphon, and an answering growl from his own, food was now the priority.

Leaving the few packs they carried with them in the relatively secure chamber, Ikram leaned against a parapet scanning the surrounding meadows from one of the watchtowers, and felt safe behind the largely still guarding walls while his gryphon took silently to the skies again. They took turns hunting on a daily basis, and tonight was Dagur's turn. But Ikram didn't remain idle; while the gryphon was absent, he continued combing the ruins and overgrowth, sweeping aside what he was able and cutting through the tougher branches still clinging to the ramparts. As more of the polished stone was revealed to the waning moonlight, the reflections multiplied, scattering a soft glow around the vicinity as the rock itself seemed to draw in the pale hue. In all he counted twelve towers, with smaller minarets twisting around them as his efforts carried him back to where he began. Unlike the symmetrical castles humans were known for, this fortress stretched out along the arc of the moon across the sky, the tallest peaks to either end, sloping down to the great crystal focus in the center.

A few hours went by before Dagur returned with two large boars clutched in his foreclaws, beating hard to settle carefully on the outer wall. Hanging one out to dry for tomorrow by a slightly less crumbling tower, Ikram hauled the other down to prepared both their meals within the crystal chamber, while his gryphon watched warily in the calm stillness surrounding the castle itself.

Passing through the chamber's entrance again, the reflected rays of light had greatly multiplied in their absence, lending an unearthly ethereal presence to the space now as he set the carcass on top of the center table. Dagur followed not long after, flopping his feathery bulk on the floor near the entrance and casting his gaze to Ikram's scales, glistening in the scattered moonlight as his rider removed the various pieces of leather armor. While unnecessary for protection, they lessened the shameful sense of nudity he had inherited from his human mother. Flexing his wings and arms against the stark light to test the glaze of his cerulean scales, he glanced at the gryphon with a small grin before he turned his back and knelt down to all fours to arrange the wood for burning, raising his hips and twirling tail temptingly.

Dagur knew instinctively by now why Ikram did that, and his tongue drew around the curve of his beak at the memory, but he waited patiently. Although dishonorable amongst dragons, Ikram chose to emulate being his female because they had yet to find any of his species, and a frustrated gryphon is a bad mount and a poor hunter. Having taken the time to experience the strength of the gryphon's lust frequently already now that they were free of the clan, he wondered just how difficult it would become to handle Dagur in the coming season. It had already become a near nightly occurrence for the two of them, and as the leaves were already turning, it wouldn't be much longer before the fall of autumn. Unlike the deep wintry hibernation of most other dragons, his human-half demanded his senses to remain vigilant, not that he minded too much as those frosty months had also been his favorite memories with Dagur and the other gryphons among the clan, left alone to their own devices.

Ikram latticed beams of firewood gathered from the surrounding debris, glad to have kept his breath of fire at least as with a satisfied puff, smoke rose quickly from the kindling, drawn up and out around the convex curve of the ceiling. He smirked as he prepared and spitted the boar over the heat. It would take some time to cook the meat, despite smelling delicious in its raw fashion already, and so he lifted and curled his tail back high overhead as he leaned over the spit, keeping the roast turning evenly with both paws from the weight alone.

Dagur recognized the invitation with a warbling croon and approached him closely, nipping at the underside of his 'rider's' long and thick tail from tip to base which sent trembling shivers down Ikram's spine, but he stood firm, still offering himself as he turned the spit, knowing that gryphons tested that way whether the female was indeed receptive, a gesture that avoided misunderstandings. If Ikram would have wanted to reject Dagur's approach, he had only to stand. Fortunately for dragons, what food remained leftover from eating was consumed to fuel their inner fire, leaving them rather clean otherwise so long as a daily expulsion of flame was maintained.

Instead he looked back with a soft moan as that teasing beak reached the base of his tail, nuzzling at his tailvent a moment before giving a warm wet lick with that thick tongue; a ticklish ordeal for Ikram as his scales offered enough resistance to the razor edge, but Dagur widened his maw carefully to avoid injury. Fighting the tight ring by digging in with his tongue-tip until it grudgingly yielded to his affections, the gryphon delved deeper, raising a lustful from his submissive drake as the scaled slit between Ikram's legs began to bulge with the deliciously filling sensations stretching his rear.

Dagur took his time glazing over every vulnerable nerve he could find, enjoying the spicier tastes within and scents without while giving their food plenty of time to cook thoroughly. It was all Ikram could do to keep the spit turning as that slick tongue lashed over a firmer nub of pleasure within that set his legs aquiver, more of his shaft throbbing free into the heated air while he groaned in approval. He clung to turning the handle in his faltering grip, carefully watching the slight browning then blackening of the flesh despite his enraptured faculties until with a frustrated but satisfied grunt, he dropped down to all fours and clenched tight around the invading appendage, rolling his hips back lustfully into that warm muzzle. The gryphon of course had other plans for dinner, and with a pleased growl sending its vibrations along the snug passage to Ikram's trembling delight, Dagur gradually retracted the length of his tongue, nudging his scaled appetizer gently toward the fire again.

Ikram stepped shakily to his feet once he felt it slide from his tailvent with a wet schlick, shoving that grinning gryphon muzzle to the side with a grin of his own. He raised the spit with both paws, almost half his own height with twice the bulk, and set it beside a cleared area on the warm stone beside the fire while he straddled the head with both legs and leaned over to tug the shaft free, inadvertently sliding his own stiff length through the boar's mouth in the process with a soft moan. Grasping the opposite end with both paws, he gave a sharp pull and a shove of his hips, sliding it free effortlessly as his tail whipped behind for leverage. Ikram set the hot poker aside, moving to extricate himself, but not before he felt warm feathers and trailing claws along his back, lifting and curling his tail back out of the way again.

Dagur ran eagle-like fore-claws along the spined ridges from tail-base to neck, settling to lean the weight of his paws just between the drake's pale wing muscles, and digging under Ikram's scales for purchase as he reared over his mate to mount him with a rumbling growl. He left no room for maneuver even if the drake had wanted to, and he could feel the tension relaxing under his paws as he aligned his girthy arousal of pulsing gryphon meat with Ikram's loosened pucker.

Popping in the largely barbed tip at first with a groan from both of them, he gave Ikram time to encompass the intruder; while hardly being the first time, the gryphon still preferred to take it slowly, unless his mate begged nicely of course. Dagur licked lovingly along that scaled neck, drawing up to nibble gently at Ikram's horns with his beak as if they were feathers to clean while sinking in more of his massive gryph-hood inch for inch, stretching smoothly through that tight muscle. The thick shaft was enough to bring just that kind of needy whine to the drake's muzzle after being teased so thoroughly tonight with the gryphon's tongue, and Dagur met the resulting buck of Ikram's hips with a sharp thrust of his own, burying himself deep down to his fluffy sheath and downy orbs under that tail with a pleased croon and shoving Ikram roughly into the boar in turn.

Scales pressed tight between feather and flesh, the sudden pressure pulsing against his prostate within and searing heat enveloping his shaft were far too much for Ikram, finding himself clenching and rippling hard around Dagur's thick spire with a breathless roar as heavy spurts of dragon seed spilled from his own. Having inherited more than a little of the dragon's fabled stamina and virility, the flow only slowed to a steady stream, quickly giving their dinner a fresh cream-filling and moaning harshly as he felt those fleshy barbs dragging and tickling gently against his sensitive walls.

Growling deep into a rumbling purr with that hot dragon-flesh clutching tight to his member, Dagur began thrusting slowly, every roll with greater force until he found a powerful rousing rhythm for the both of them, digging in at the best angle to feel that pre-slicked passage constrict with the strong moans of his mate. Then he unfurled his wings, adding powerful gusts of air to the momentum as Ikram threw himself back rhythmically to help pull the gryphon in deeper, yielding a sticky double-slap as the drake was rammed back into the boar each time the hard length speared through his tailvent.

Ikram hugged himself close to their relatively stable meal, claws digging in slightly as Dagur proved to be as rough and merciless with him as ever after the initial affections, pounding out bursts of hot dragon cum from his throbbing length, while still more of the gryphon's pre flowed freely now from his well-stretched pucker, drooling and splattering into the slippery growing pool at his feet. As he felt the gryphon's beak closing at the base of his neck, Ikram shivered and arced back in anticipation of the part he had come to enjoy most.

Dagur's eyes took on an almost feral glint, the rush of his own climax slowly overtaking him. The base of his shaft swelled heavily as the edge of his beak dug in to well-worn grooves in the drake's scale. Undeterred by any resistance, Dagur wrapped his claws around Ikram and the boar, smothering them both in his warm feathers and lifting their combined weight slightly out of lustful desperation as he tried to crack that taut ring open even wider. He ground his furred hips in savagely and strained with all the corded power of his hindpaws in a final vigorous thrust as always, forcing a second roar from Ikram as the drake's backside was so thoroughly stuffed, and rhythmic tightening of those well-trained muscles with every strong heart-pulse from his buried length, hips sinking home with a wet schlorp. Wildly rippling walls swiftly coaxed forth his own release as Dagurs beak lifted to answer with the harsh cry of his conquest, luscious thick liters of slick gryphon seed quickly flooding and expanding within that narrowly sealed passage.

If Dagur was his usual productive self, and Ikram knew with a rather hazy grin from the warm and growing bulge in his stomach that he was, then it would take at least a half-hour until he'd be able to stand again. Opening his eyes to see the mess they had made, their dinner was remarkably still in one sizzling cum-dripping piece, and so he tentatively twisted his weight around the thick pillar of gryphon meat, nudging back against a lust-dazed Dagur for him to roll to the side so they could sate all their appetites. He finally succeeded as one of his horns tickled under the soft feathery neck, earning himself another thick spurt of gryphon essence as Dagur fell over and curled around him, gently humping in snug to the fluffy balls with a soft croon, and just within reach of the boar thankfully as that both he and Dagur dug into their heavily seasoned meal together, making fine use of the gryphons twitching foreclaws.

As they feasted under the fractured light of the moon, Ikram looked up to see many of the crystals having magnified the night sky, set in perfect alignment to their particular constellations. More importantly he finally took notice of the dim silhouette of a dragon circling above both of them, the instinctive resulting tension of his muscles enough cause to draw a moan from both of them as he felt a trickle of sticky fluid drool out from under his tail. Pushing a claw back against Dagur and popping himself free of the loosened knot with a thick torrent of seed pooling under him, Ikram stepped shakily toward the crystal, able to make out only the barest detail in the few moments before it drifted out of view. The form and scale color might've been familiar in daylight, but there was little chance that it could be any other than one of his former clan following them at this hour. Still, Ikram felt no shame as he returned to lie beside Dagur again; he was free of their laws and ethics now, and with a suggestive purr rumbling against his scales, there was little more he could care about than pleasing his gryphon.

A Wise Decision

Scales the muddy green of swamp-water, pensive eyes a glowing mikado yellow, Shuvir was the dragon to be tasked with keeping watch of the young half-breed, after some particularly persuasive meetings with Jumendur, the clan leader. He'd never expected to find the pair so intimately engaged however, but in his occupation as one of the few learned druids among the other dragons, he could see the natural necessity; Ikram did it to compensate dissatisfaction for his friend as a frustrated gryphon is neither a good mount nor hunter.

Brown wings shadowed black against the stars; he sailed silently through the night sky toward the familiar cliffs and mountainsides. Being first of the dragons to be taught on how to tend and harness nature's powers well, he claimed a fine consulting position, second only to Jumendur who had first taught him. Jumendur had taken a very different route to bring this power to the clan, at a time when Shuvir had once led the clan, but that secret remained between them.

"At least for now," Shuvir thought to himself, twin forked tails whipping idly by in the air currents ripping with speed across his scales. One of many changes that he noticed was the rarity of wild gryphons. A natural symbiosis had formed between them and the dragons, aided by their similar affinity of flight and alternate patterns of life. Gryphons provided much needed protection during the winter, guarding the nests of all while the dragons hibernated, and in return they shared in the wealth of food and shelter that dragons could provide, especially from the constant hominid threat of bring 'tamed'. Wild wolves were in much the same predicament, driven to fighting more dangerous predators for hunting grounds to replace those now occupied by humans, and turned upon by their docilated brethren to the point of near extinction.

Shuvir decided to head back to the clan lands after seeing the mating through, out of respect for Ikram and Dagur, knowing that Ikram is safe, and of some sense of shame by disregarding privacy, though not before he had taken the time to relieve himself afterwards; it would have been most difficult to fly with. He wanted to report to the clan leader immediately, seeking Jumendur's consent to make certain 'adjustments' for the pair that would serve nature in a small, but effective step.

He flew several hard hours straight along the river to get back to familiar borders just before dawn. Giving the routine report of himself to the patrolling dragons, he then sought contact with Jumendur immediately.

Like his son, Ikram, Jumendur as well had pale blue scales reminiscent of the moonlight, particularly brilliant tonight as it was in the strength of the full disc against a clear sparkling sky. Shuvir found him at his usual perch a rocky prominence jutting from the cliffside; Jumendur preferred to stay up during the height of the lunar cycle, to meditate and think about decisions in the stark luminescence. The lord of dragons looked to his arriving druid, "How is my son? Though I know Ikram never felt like he could belong here, it still saddens me to see him gone."

"He is well and safe, my lord." Shuvir responded, "He has taken shelter in a ruin some great distance farther down from along the river originating from our own mountain range, surrounded by forests thriving with game. Dagur, the gryphon he has chosen personally, is also still with him. The lands around the fortress are long since abandoned by the hominids, and remarkably the majority of the ruin still stands strong despite the hand of nature."

Jumendur smiled at that, but worry slowly crept in as his gaze turned back to the sky, "Continue observing him for now, but if they journey on outside of a reasonable day's flight you may return. Even self-exiled, he is still the only blood that I have as you well know. Not that I would loathe the lack of a heir, as I am fairly sure that someone strong enough can and would claim leadership in as much the same strength and capacity that I have, but it pains me that my line would end with Ikram as he could not have laid claim to a mate amongst our females. I could have any fair dragoness for my own the next season of course, but the thought of it alone would divert me from important attentions to my clan's matters, and I fear that most females would rather seek to consort with me out of power rather than any real desire."

Shuvir looked with him at the stars for a moment, "My lord, not all is lost if that is the largest matter that ails you." Jumendur diverted from his view of the moon and looked to him with renewed interest as Shuvir continued, "Well, I have witnessed Ikram being very close to his gryphon. Though such a thought alone might be forbidding, there is a way in which he may at least be of service to nature."

Jumendur tilted his head, "I am intrigued. My son is no longer bound by our ethics, so tell me more."

Shuvir nodded in agreement, a small smirk rising to his muzzle as he continued, "I bear witness to how Ikram offered himself to his gryphon. He probably did this to help Dagur through the usual urges of male gryphons, but it won't help forever. Gryphons will repeatedly mate until the signs of heat have ended. Logically, Ikram is not a female, so Dagur would take him more frequently and harsher as there are no female gryphons in this area. However, I have studied the druidic path enough that I believe I can alter Ikram to become a female. He would become the first to birth a new species of gryphons, with your line being spread across the world. It is also within our ethics to equalize gender imbalances within nature by the use of magic, or to fortify endangered species by cross-breeding them in ways to ensure their survival."

The thought forced Jumendur to ponder for a short moment, thinking of his own past experiences with a twitch of his tail before he nodded decisively, "It is in essence a wise decision that not only helps me but helps nature and our clan as well, strengthening those that ward us through the winter. It would even be our long overdue and worthy gift to the gryphons. I consent to making Ikram female and providing him with this new purpose."

Jumendur grinned as he continued, "I will not accept his rejection as it is a last order from his father. Force him if need be. Besides that, his mother, as you know, is a druid of your order as well, and I am sure she would approve."

Shuvir envisioned shortly on how he might go about convincing Ikram, "Since your son left on his own, I think it best to assume that force would be the least effective course of action. He is of age however, though due to our customs and the obvious disadvantages, no dragoness would ever have him, much less in his current situation. Perhaps I can make him an offer he can't refuse, and will likely have to change gender as well to lure him into taking me, but the distraction will be needed to make sure the change takes effect. I might and probably will have his hatchlings then."

Jumendur narrowed his eyes, but nodded slowly his assent, "I will adopt them as if they were my own." Then he whispered, hardly audible for Shuvir: "And you will probably serve for more..."

Shuvir smiled in his ignorance, turning back toward the mountains, "Then I thank you for the opportunity, my lord. I shall now leave to prepare the alteration as you desire."

Jumendur responded, "No need to thank me. Instead, I shall thank you."

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