FSE

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Third try, and no luck to be had. He looked up at the sparkling treetops of the Dreamgrove and paused for a moment to take in the view. No matter how many he took the sight in, the towering trees and the latent glow of magic never stopped giving him that slight feeling of awe. Kalvar shook his head to refocus himself and gave his short blue tinted beard a thoughtful scratch for good measure. He looked past a small clearing and found a familiar face in a small crowd gathered by a stream. A familiar face that also knew his friend. Hopefully this one would prove fruitful.

He slowed his jog as he approached the dryad, hearing her sing songy voice ring out with laughter as he approached. She saw him as she chatted with her friends and turned to look at him with an idle smile. He decided he didn’t have much time for pleasantries as he strode up to her. “Mel,” he nodded. “You haven’t seen Lorn anywhere, have you?”

“Lorn?” her voice maintained a perfectly mirthful cadence to it as she spoke. “I’m afraid I haven’t.”

The young elf cursed mentally in frustration. “Ah.” was all he managed to say and he scowled and looked around the Dreamgrove again.

“Did something happen?” she asked with a small hint of concern. “I saw him last night.”

Kalvar fought off the urge to ignore her and dash off. “We were supposed to train this morning and I haven’t seen him all afternoon.” He glanced up at the midday sun and looked back at the dryad with a frown.

She chuckled and continued to smile. “I’m sure he’s around,” she reassured him.

“I don’t suppose you know anyone who may have seen him?” He tried to keep the urgency out of his voice.

Before she could respond a voice came from the other side of the small stream. “You say Lorn?” an older Kaldorei druid spoke from his seat on a delicate wooden bench. “Tall one?” he motioned with his hand, the other talon-like hand firmly grasping around his staff. “Shiny horn?”

“Yes!” The relief hit him like a gust of wind. “You’ve seen him?”

“This morning,” the druid replied. “Took off towards the forest outside.” He nodded in the direction of the exit of the Dreamgrove. “Seemed like he was in quite a huff, muttering to himself.”

That was mildly concerning, but only slightly so. He had a lead, at least. “Thank you!” he nodded towards the seated elf and looked back at Mel.

“Well there you go,” she laughed in a sweet tone. “Glad I could help.” She winked.

Her mood, combined with his excitement over the newfound information, helped lift his spirits. He shared a small laugh with her for a moment.

“Tell him I said Hello. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.” She nodded as he took off running.

He shouted a thank you to the older druid as he bounded over the stream and ran along the glittery stone pathway. He squinted, planned his trajectory for take off, and felt the rush of air along his robes and body quickly become the rush of air underneath his wings. He propelled himself upward, far above the pathway and above the lush greenery of the Dreamgrove, and straight for the exit.

His mind and heart raced as he flew, the alert eyes of his large crow form scanning both the ground and the skies, looking and calculating to avoid any collisions and search for his friend. The worry about Lorn’s sour mood came back to him as he flew. He cared for his friend and hated to see him struggle. The large bull had a natural talent for the arts, and he’d seen him conjure fairly potent fire, as well as channel natural life magic through his fingertips with ease.

It must be the shapeshifting. Again, he thought to himself as he flew.

His friend was talented, that was for sure. He saw it. He admired it, but try as he might, the poor bull couldn’t seem to pick up any sort of animal forms, or even the most rudimentary partial transformation. He’d gone through cycles Kalvar had watched. Basking in the praise for some of his talents, to a dour and frustrated mood when it came time to practice what he wasn’t excelling at. He let out an amused huff as he flew, taking in more air to power his body and wings. He’d cleared the trail leading out of the Dreamgrove and spied a large branch on a tree in the surrounding forest.

He landed with ease with several gentle flaps and scanned the surrounding woods, mundane in comparison to the majesty of the trees he’d just left. He racked his brain trying to think of where his friend may have run off to. He caught his breath and looked over the thickets and clearings of the forest. They’d spent many days here, getting away from the bustle and structure of the Circle and its teachings. Kalvar caught himself reminiscing in fondness at the time they’d spent away with each other. It had been almost a year now and they’d trained and meditated, and oftentimes shared stories with each other. He’d never grown close to one of the Shu’halo like that. He found it strange at first, but in time he came to think Lorn was perpetually intriguing and surprisingly pleasant. Quite good company who he’d made many memories with. He thought of one in particular and it shook him out of his trance, excited by the thought of finding his friend, and knowing that might be the perfect place to look for him.

He soared through the trees again, deftly weaving between the branches as he flew, still scanning the ground in case he might find Lorn someplace other than expected. After some time he found another perch in a tree next to a small glade. His heart fluttered as he looked over the small area with a fond familiarity.

Something looked different than the last time they’d been there and it caught his attention. He swooped down and hit the ground with elegant grace, his legs making contact with the earth as he shifted seamlessly, not breaking his stride. He saw as he approached that the objects he spotted were a small group of the totems they used to practice with, complete with small wooden horns and a tidy pattern of paint. He smiled until he saw one that looked excessively singed, and broken off from where it had been placed in the ground. It looked fresh and he quickly glanced around.

“Lorn, Are you here?” He called out into the woods of Val’sharah that surrounded the clearing.

He brushed a small strand of his sapphire blue hair out of his face and half hoped the lumbering bull would simply hop out of one of the bushes laughing. He let out a frustrated breath and inspected the totem, glancing up to the tree it was in front of and eyes widening with a small out of shock.

Claw marks. They didn’t look incredibly deep, but there were a lot of them. He ran a finger over the gashes in the thick bark of the tree and scowled, the worry setting in again. They looked too shallow to be large ursine claws, and too high up. He was hoping to maybe find his friend glowing in his newfound success, easily shifting from his animal form and back. He thought the big bull might pick up certain forms easier than others, and the bear came to mind fairly quickly. This looked different, however. He inspected the gashes over a few more times and wondered if this had even been caused by his friend, or a sentient creature at all.

His head flicked as he thought he heard a noise. The small structure stood forlorn and almost completely forgotten by time. The entrance to one of the mostly collapsed barrow dens stood before him, overtaken by large winding vines, blocking most of the hallway and obscuring the ancient wood frame from anyone giving it a passing glance. Some of the vines looked like they’d been hastily ripped away, and he strode over to them with cautious anticipation.

Another louder and nondescript noise seemed to echo from within, causing his pulse to quicken as he passed the threshold to the abandoned structure. He could only see faintly down the ramping hallway and he spied one of the ancient and unbroken lamps they’d found intact when they’d rediscovered the place months ago. With a fluid wave of his hand the lamp lit up in a dull blue glow as he felt the astral energy course through him. Everything seemed still inside, and the noise seemed to come from the chamber below. He glanced over the walls as he wound down the spiral staircase, making his way to the only intact part of the actual den, the simple entryway to the depths below.

He flicked another lamp on as he rounded the corner and stopped dead in his tracks.

Something quite large and quite feathery laid curled up in the center of the dimly glowing room. Piles of earth and stone lay on the far end, signaling that this was as deep as the barrow den went. A short dead end. He tried to calm himself as he looked over the large mass of fur and feathers.

He didn’t approach, and simply appraised from the doorway the temperament and sheer size of the curled up owlbeast before him. It wasn’t sleeping, as it shifted slightly and slowly as the blue glow faintly flickered through the messy room. Hoping the beast wasn’t injured, or enraged, he inspected it from afar, finding it at least a slightly interesting distraction as he tried to find his friend. The large beast had curiously colored fur and feathers for the wildkin native to Val’sharah. He couldn’t see its antlers as it was facing the rubble on the far side of the room and tightly curled into a ball. He looked over the curious yellowy tan fur that ran up the beast’s legs, meeting a delightful patch of creamy colored feathers that covered the backside of the creature. It looked quite aesthetically pleasing, he thought. It almost reminded him of-

By Elune, he cursed as the realization hit him all at once.

“Lorn?” he choked out quietly from the entryway of the den.

He’d never seen his friend in any form other than the large sandy brown colored bull he’d grown accustomed to. The head that had been curled up underneath a large arm rose slightly, letting the twirling set of horns come into view. He twitched and took a sharp breath as he watched the elongated yellow beak poke up from under the arm and slowly open and close several times. He admired his friend's apparent talent, but he was quite certain the instincts of this new transformation would have entirely overpowered his mind and thoughts.

The beast stirred and growled in a deep rumbly tone and it regrettably affirmed his suspicions. He stood in the doorway and found himself pondering, utterly unsure of what to do. Leaving to get someone more experienced to handle the situation was probably the safest option, but for some reason, he hesitated before dismissing the idea entirely. He knew he was quite competent, and stepped through the threshold of the room with the thought that he could be of some help to the beast if it came to it. Probably, he hoped.

“Lorn,” he spoke not hoping the best would recognize him at first, but to make his presence known without startling him. “It’s me.” He spoke softly in a calm tone, and watched the beast look up at him as he moved several paces away.

He’d recognize those emerald eyes anywhere. It was uncanny how even while shapeshifted, some physical characteristics could still remain similar. The haze in them he didn’t recognize, however. They looked over him and through him. He felt an eerie chill as the glazed over eyes inspected him, still standing a few meters away as a precaution.

“Stuck,” the beast rumbled out slowly in a whiny tone.

That was surprising, but a good sign. His friend was still in there, somewhere, somewhat in control.

“You did it,” he said, half to himself in the still air of the room, “I’m impressed.” He took a few steps forward.

He was impressed. The owlbeast that lay before him was massive. Smiling again at the similarity to the bull the new form had in terms of size, he stopped as it slowly moved again.

“Stuck,” he growled out again in a long and loud bray. The eyes looked weary, confused. Kalvar chewed his lip and tried to think of a solution.

He could wait until his friend became exhausted and fell asleep. This was the answer for most druids in the Grove who had problems shifting back their first time. The only problem was that they weren’t in the Grove, and if both of them were missing come nightfall, someone would certainly come looking for them.

If his overly ambitious friend had picked a simpler and smaller form, he might have tried to wrestle him into exhaustion like some of the elder druids would do during training mishaps. Another look at the hulking beast confirmed that that was probably a terrible idea.

Magic was an option, and if he could get close enough it might be the most effective one. He was a competent soother and could easily lull his friend into a more docile state to ease his transformation. His friend didn’t look particularly dangerous or angry as he was, curled up on the floor while looking at him and whining. Still, he wanted to be careful. Lorn’s personality was at least somewhat present in the creature, but he needed to make sure he didn’t upset the beastial part in there as well. He needed something familiar and nonintimidating.

Oh, that would work, he chuckled to himself as he took a few steps forward, rolling his shoulders and shaking his arms to ease the change. He felt heavy, thick taloned paws hit the stone as he walked and he felt the mass of his body shift as it became more rotund, coated in thick lavender feathers. He held up a large bearlike paw and flexed his claws.

He felt physically imposing, sure, but the magical attunement this form provided hit him like an invigorating breath of fresh air. He was used to the constant buzz of energy, but enjoyed it nonetheless. He felt powerful. This would be easy.

The other moonkin curled up at his feet looked up at him. His friend didn’t look distressed anymore, but was staring with a focused curiosity. He wasn’t fearful anymore, with his new form putting him only somewhat smaller than his friend. Despite Lorn’s calm demeanor, he felt the erratic and uncontrolled magical energy wafting off of him. What a surprising turn of events. If Lorn had such raw talent, perhaps he’d be a suitable fit for the Druids of the Moon. It was a selfish thought, that they’d get to spend even more time together than they did now, but he couldn’t help it from filling his mind with hopeful glee.

With the thought in the back of his mind, he took a seat in front of the larger moonkin, grunting as his feathery behind hit the cool stone floor. His friend’s eyes followed him and he raised a paw up and lazily clicked his beak as he let the soft soothing magic coalesce in his hand with a light blue glow. It was almost a shame. Lorn would calm down, take a nap, and probably wake up normal. So much for spending any of the day together. He sighed as he brought up his glowing paw up to the other moonkin’s face, the shimmery emerald eyes watching him with lucid alertness.

“Kal,” the rumbly voice of his friend echoed out through the chamber. He stopped.

“What?” he asked with mild amusement. Lorn shifted his weight and the large moonkin crawled a bit closer to him.

“You,” Lorn groaned out.

He hummed a small laugh to himself. “Yeah? You overdid it I think, my friend. Impressive, but you need to take a break and rest.” He spoke, wondering if his friend was there enough to understand his words.

Lorn winced and shook his head, the creamy tan fur on his cheeks fluffing out a bit. He pressed a large paw to his temple and moaned again. “Magic,” he muttered as he rubbed his face.

Kalvar hesitated, watching his friend go through alternating states of awareness and confusion. His earlier thought circled at how abnormal it was for his friend to have even this level of half control. His pride swelled before his thoughts were interrupted.

“You,” Lorn repeated and shifted his weight again, his large form clawing up close, face and large beak coming precariously close to Kal’s. Kalvar let the glowing paw he was holding up fall slowly, the magic in it softly dissipating, disarmed. “Need,” Lorn whispered in a gravelly growl, and before Kal could do anything, the weight of his friend crashed into him.

It didn’t knock the wind out of him, but he let out a gasp as the plush ton of feathers pressed down on him. His adrenaline spiked as the anticipation of violence was keen in his mind. He began to summon up the magic in his paw before the sensation hit him.

The large beak, poking and prodding through the fur on his neck, preening and feeling him. He let out a short breath as he felt the tongue tasting him. His friend pressed his weight down. He wasn’t being crushed, but felt a slight discomfort as the large mass of feathers lay atop him. Lorn crawled up him as the beak ran over and through his neck fur, almost reminiscent of a sensual kiss.

He shuddered and let his arm fall slack beside him, thinking about how it would be a lie to say it didn’t feel enjoyable. He’d wanted to be intimate with Lorn for a while now, but not in a dingy old barrow den, and not like this. He could stop it if he wanted, but the part of him that wanted that paled in comparison to the enjoyment of having his friend hunched over him with his face stuffed in his neck.

He raised his paw, now entirely diffuse of magic, and ran his claws through the thick tan fur on the beast’s neck. Lorn rumbled out his approval with a growl and continued to press through his neck with his thick beak, eliciting a few soft moans as it parted the fur and soft dry tongue tasted the skin underneath.

As he kept scratching as his friend searched and kissed under his neck and up to his jaw, he felt Lorn shifting his weight several times. Their soft midsections rubbed together as the shifting became somewhat more rhythmic. Kalvar moaned softly in surprise and the realization hit him. Along with the beak poking into his neck and chin there was something else grinding into the feathers on his stomach.

He felt powerless to stop it. He didn’t want to. He laid back completely on the stone floor and felt a new wave of heat awash within his body as his friend ground his hips rhythmically into him with soft deep growls. He closed his eyes for a moment and let his claws trace through the thick fur on the moonkin’s neck, scratching his approval.

“Need,” Lorn whimpered into his neck.

He shuddered and gave his friend’s back an affectionate pat. “Sure seems like it,” he whispered and tried to move his free hand between them.

It was a bit difficult, with a little wiggling he was able to free a bit of space between him and slip his paw down between their fluffy mess of feathers. He found his prize and put his soft paw pads on the slick member lazily poking at him. He felt a hot huff of breath in his neck as his friend bucked into his hand. He wrapped his paw gently around the tapered shaft and felt it twitch and leak over him. It was overwhelmingly erotic and he felt his own arousal twitch below him. That could be tended to later. His focus for now was on his feral friend humping into his hand.

He tried to scoot forward to get a better hold of the throbbing member in his paw, and to his surprise, his friend moved to accommodate him. Lorn gave his neck one last lick and propped himself up. The larger moonkin moved from his crouching position to his knees, perfectly straddling him and letting him pump his cock into the now incredibly wet paw that was pleasuring him.

Kal took a look at the scene and thought he might pass out at the utterly pornographic sight before him. His cock gave a twitch and he drank in the sight of his large friend’s feathery form happily thrusting into his paw. He watched another splurt of precum ooze from the tip as he gave it a soft squeeze. He looked up and his friend’s face was plastered with pleasure. His eyes lidded and beak hung slightly open with his tongue flopped out to the side. A small strand of drool dangled off the tip of it. He moaned his agreement after Lorn made another lust filled noise. By the Goddess, it was almost too much for him.

Apparently not for his friend however, because only a moment after he retracted his hand to reposition himself, the large moonkin standing over him let out a disgruntled cry. The sound was almost pathetic. So laced with lusty need and animalistic desire, with a hunger in it from being deprived of his pleasure. The slight amount of pity he had was vastly outmatched by the lust coursing through him now. Kal gave his own cock a few healthy strokes and sent static waves of pleasure through his body. He looked up at his friend who let out a now grumbly growl and an utterly lecherous thought passed through his mind. Did he dare?

He swore under his breath. Of course he would. They’d already gotten this far and at the current moment, there wasn’t anything he wanted more. Luckily for him their previous position left him plenty of room to maneuver. He quickly twisted himself from under his friend’s thick legs and on to his stomach. An impatient growl from behind him would have been almost comedic if he wasn’t busy contemplating whether or not this was a awful idea.

His lust-addled brain couldn’t come to a conclusion, especially with the full weight of the larger owlbeast bearing down on him. After he’d assumed a receptive copulatory posture and flicked his tail it only took half a second for his friend to pounce on him with a delighted growl. He felt the arching weight press into him as their hips collided and the tapered tip of his friend’s cock sought access to his neatly presented backside. His slight concern melted away as he felt copious slick precum dab itself over his hole as several small thrusts didn’t quite strike true. He leaned forward and wiggled himself just a bit, half teasing, half lining himself up better for the impending act.

He gasped out as a hissing snarl came from Lorn above him. He’d found his target and the tip slipped in easily, slowly stretching the muscle as it worked its way through. His eyes unfocused at the pleasurable sensation of being penetrated. The animalistic lust his friend had embodied seemed to be contagious. The owlbeast on top of him had very little trouble pushing his way in. His cock was thoroughly slicked with viscous precum and the tip leaked as it squeezed its way in, pushing deep into his tight walls. Kal’s thoughts became blurred as his mind filled to the brim with lustful anticipation and need, only desiring one thing.

Deep growls resonated through the chamber as the pace picked up immediately. A different obscene curse word passed through his mind every time he felt the hefty hips slam into him and the pointed cock of his friend pressed as deep into him as it could. He couldn’t get a single one of those curses out of his mouth, and instead moaned into the dirty stone floor of the chamber as a large beast had its way with him. The precum had been more than enough lubrication, and the sizable cock slid in and out of him easily, never fully slipping out before being shoved back in with earnest.

He started to press himself back with each thrust, trying to meet the rampaging beast half way. His thoughts were incoherent and his motive was to simply add to the pleasure of sex in whatever manner he could, to coax the rutting climax out of his close friend by whatever means necessary. He wanted it more than anything. To breed and be bred.

He reached a hand underneath himself to grab ahold of his own cock and a static spike of pleasure worked its way through him. It was too overwhelming, almost too much. He gave himself a few tentative strokes and quickly became a moaning incoherent mess. Lorn panted above him with every thrust and the grunts and growls became more regular and more intense. He had to be getting close. He spurned his friend on, unable to articulate words, but moaned out louder to add to the cacophony of sex ringing out through the den. Large clawed paws got a firm grip around his thick hips and he suddenly wasn’t able to press back against the thrusts, instead being pulled back by the strong arms onto the thick cock.

Lorn must be almost there, with the bellowing echoing through the chamber there was no way he couldn’t be. He felt something hard latch on to the mid of his back and he knew the moment of their shared release was at hand. The beak searched for the right angle to grab hold and with heavy slams into him between groans it found the perfect patch of feathery muscle. It hurt, not much, but enough to be a thorough indication of what was about to happen. The mating bite was timed in conjunction with the shaky shuddering of his mate’s hips and Kal cried out, pawing himself off fervently as they fell into the waves of their orgasm together.

It was an ascendant sort of pleasuring being filled to the brim like that. Taking the large cock to the hilt, he felt it pulsing inside of him and filling him with his mate’s seed. He saw stars in the dull stone of the floor as his own orgasm hit him and he felt his own cum spill out underneath them. The pressure practically forced it out and he relished in the feeling of the throbbing cock inside of him as his climax hit its peak. The hard beak let go of him and he whined out at the feeling, wanting the gesture of being completely taken to last forever. The beak was replaced with most of the weight of the large moonkin’s upper body and they collapsed on the cum covered floor together.

They quickly descended the mountains of pleasure together into a heaving lake of bliss, Lorn’s pointed cock still lodged snugly inside of him. After what seemed like an eternity they began to come to. All the curses and swears he couldn’t think of earlier graced his mind finally. For being a millennia or so old, he couldn’t remember the last time something had felt so damn good.

He also couldn’t remember the last time he heard a sigh so long and blissful. He rubbed his face with a paw and let out a sharp breath as he felt the softening cock withdraw from him. A small pang of sadness hit him at the feeling, marking the deed as done and finished. He decided to try and turn and face his mate, proving to be a difficult task since he didn’t seem to want to remove any of the weight that was on top of him. He struggled to shimmy himself sideways but eventually the large moonkin grunted and removed the necessary weight for him to flip himself. His eyes were closed, and the second they were face to face, Lorn simply flopped his weight back on top of him.

“Lorn,” he grunted. “Stars, you're heavy.” He tried to push some of his friend’s weight off of him.

He was met with another blissful sigh and a happy hum. The erratic magic seemed to have wholly dissipated. That was good. The larger moonkin blinked, his eyes looking suspiciously awake and normal.

Wait, that couldn’t possibly be all it took to-

His thought was interrupted as the large beast shifted back quickly and was replaced by a creamy tan bull he was more familiar with.

With a gasp of surprise he shifted back as well and found his close friend leaning over him, bare chested, shaking his head and glancing around the cavern in confusion.

“Kal? Where the fuck are we?” The bull’s deep but smooth voice echoed in the now quiet room.

His heart skipped a beat as he heard the voice and watched the bull’s green eyes meet his, with his brassy golden horn catching the low light of the cave and shining. He couldn’t help but smile.

“You did it. Shifted.” He scratched his blue beard. “Probably could have picked an easier form for a beginner, but either way, you did it.”

“Huh. I did it.” The bull scowled as if he was recalling something and after a moment his eyes widened, mouth slightly agape. “We did it,” he continued. “We did it.”

Kalvar was at a loss for words and just chuckled as his friend stared at him in disbelief. “Yeah,” he finally agreed.

Well, at least he didn’t completely black out, he thought idly as Lorn looked him over with concern and a bit of apprehensive horror.

“Are you okay?” the bull blurted out. The corners of his eyes looked a bit misty as he inspected him. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? Aw, fuck.” A large hand rested on his chest. He put his own over it.

“No. Felt great, actually.” He raised his hand and ran it through the bull’s shaggy tan beard before settling on his cheek. “Promise.”

Lorn looked at him bashfully and he felt his large hand twitch and tighten slightly on his chest. He looked like he was contemplating something. Before he could speculate on what it might be, his friend leaned down and kissed him softly on the lips. It didn’t linger long, but he savored the unfamiliar sensation.

He wanted to do that again sometime. Well, all of it, but certainly that part, too.

The light flickered and dimmed and he almost thought he might be too exhausted to reignite it if it went out. He laid on the floor for a moment in quiet contemplation.

“Lornwar.”

“Yeah?”

“Help me up. I have to wash off before we head back.”

“Huh?”

“I’m still laying in all that cum.”

“Oh.” The bull’s playful laughter filled the old barrow den.