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[Direhowl] patrolled with absolute vigilance, completing another lap of the wooden structure that her Master had called into being as his makeshift stronghold. Carefully attuned senses took stock of the dawn; she strained her ears for the sounds of shifting sands and splashing waves that might betray an approaching foe, and squinted as she gazed into the distant horizon, seeking out the shadows of flying opponents. There had been a few curious Pals roaming the northern section of the [Marsh Island], but none had dared to draw near. Small groups of [Rooby] and [Celaray] scattered to the ferocity of her warning growl, and even a far-roaming [Nitewing] dared not challenge her, aborting his overhead glide to flee when she made clear her threat.

Of course, they should fear her. She gave an aloof 'harrumph' as that obvious thought crossed her mind. Any foolish Pal that defied the will of her Master would be exterminated. She would tear them to pieces and offer up their parts for his crafting! Oh, perhaps he would prefer any attackers only weakened so that he might capture them instead? Another submissive male for him to fuck to subservience? Another doting female to dedicate her everything to him as a fawning womb-slave? As tamed Pals, their purpose was only to obey, and [Direhowl] thought it bliss to do so. It was his right to make use of them, his proper place as their Alpha Male, their Master, their Leader, their… Owner.

Oh, how wonderful it was to be owned by a Human. There was no squabbling for the position of dominance as there would be in a pack of her kin – the [Pal Sphere] alone made his position of authority absolute, and the idea of his power over her being so complete was enough to make her needy spade twitch with wet satisfaction. Perhaps it was in part due to her canine nature, but her subservience to her Human was especially ironclad, her loyalty bordering on the fanatical. He need only say the word, and she would be his weapon, his mount, his worker, or his sexual relief; whatever he wanted of her, all was for Master to take.

Unfortunately, he'd yet to request that she raise her tail for him, despite her having caught him more than once with his eyes fixated beneath it. He would always look away before she was able to make it obvious that she had noticed, and that baffled her. If he desired her, he should simply order her to lower her chest to the floor, thrust up her haunches, and then he could use his superior Human cock to shape her insides to match him, staking his claim on her body by marking her deepest depths with his masculinity. Yes. He should mate her until she overflowed with his seed, leave her with fur matted and ruined, her body stained with his scent, that she might show off to her rivals by making her patrols with his essence leaking from her well-used cunt.

In her opinion, every Pal that belonged to their Master should be competing to be his favourite, and in the case of this camp, aptitude for pleasure seemed just as worthwhile as combat or work proficiencies. After all, the consensus amongst the Pals was that they would each give their all to appeal to their Master enough for him to give up on his objective of escaping the [Palpagos Islands]. The pack should be as large and as powerful as possible, every member of it that bowed to the Human further proof of his supremacy, and it was the ambition of [Direhowl] to be the best regarded of them all. Of course, there were many things that were impossible for her. She couldn't work the [Primitive Furnace] like [Foxparks], or process materials at the crafting stations like [Leezpunk]. But they couldn't serve as mount or warrior as well as she could. The sole metric of value that mattered was their Master's affection, and while she may have some problems with [Lovander]'s one-track mind, she thought them alike in this reasoning at least.

That said, her thoughts were probably a little lewd compared to most [Direhowl] one might encounter, but as far as she could see it, that only made her more compatible with her Master's proclivities and could not be anything but a good thing. For a Human, he seemed to have a taste for the exotic, indulging himself with most of the Pals of the camp. Or perhaps he was the one indulging them? [Lovander] pheromones might have given them a bit of a push, but she didn't imagine that [Leezpunk] would be capable of wrapping his arms and legs around the Human to intimately ride his cock in a place where all could witness him, moaning about how much of a 'Human-owned faggot-slave' he was, if that wasn't in him somewhere to begin with. The same went for the others as well. [Foxparks] shamelessly proclaimed that she would birth a whole harem sired by the Human for him to enjoy. [Cremis] loved to be objectified, and [Tombat] had climaxed so hard during her last public 'punishment' that she'd wet herself. They all seemed satisfied with service to him in their own way. Well, except for [Eikthyrdeer], but at this point the she-wolf considered that prudish doe beyond help. In fact, for the crime of not surrendering her everything to their Master, cervine cunt included, that fool could fuck off and die for all she cared!

That the debauchery of the camp was so open only made it more frustrating that their Master had yet to make a move on her. [Direhowl] was not the type to be overt with her owner when it came to her own wants, however desperate her need had become. Her dedication to him was such that she didn't feel that she had the right to act so indulgently, her pleasure for him alone to decide. She hoped to be claimed. To be ordered. To have her will subverted by command. And such power-play lost something of its intensity if she simply offered herself up and made a show of asking for it. He didn't need her permission. He owned her completely, and that she yield to his desires was only natural. So, she yearned for him to simply take her as was his due. Passionately. Violently. Oh, she imagined that when that time finally came, all it would take would be the speaking of the order that she present herself for his use, and she would surely be brought to climax.

She licked her chops and allowed herself the briefest reverie from her watch to daydream. Their Master was quite open in his sexual pursuits, and she'd seen enough of him mating to imagine what it would be like to have him on her back as she presented for him. Or perhaps he would order her to lay down the other way instead, helpless with all limbs skyward? With those dexterous fingers he could seek out those nubs of pleasure lining her lower abdomen, and lean close to whisper into her ear those forbidden words that she longed to hear, that would make her heart bound and her tail wag: Good Girl.

[Direhowl] realised that she was panting and made a conscious effort to return an expression of dignity to her face. It was bad enough that the wet sheen of her puffed-up spade already betrayed her arousal so clearly, without having it show at the other end of her body as well. Her Master was cruel indeed to withhold such pleasure from her. It was infuriating that he had kept her in this state of yearning for so long, her anticipation building, her desire reaching the point where it was close to unbearable. But, that was his right as well. He would have her at his leisure. Hopefully, he would reward her dedication and choose to have her soon.

She gave a slight huff, satisfied that the perimeter was secure. Her Master had cleared out some nearby trees, using the [Wood] to build a small structure surrounded by a defensive wall. The temporary encampment used the remaining foliage for cover, opening up onto the beach on which [Direhowl] now stood, and she slowly padded back to rejoin him inside the shack he'd created, content that she was now attuned enough to the area to detect any interlopers without the need for an active patrol. There wasn't much to the interior; only a [Mounted Torch] for light, a [Wooden Chair] for her Master, a [Primitive Workbench] for the creation of a [Cloth Outfit], and a [Shoddy Bed] currently occupied by a sleeping female Human with ruined clothes for whom the new equipment was for.

[Direhowl] eyed her with suspicion. Her Master had taken great pains to avoid encountering any other Humans, having the two of them take wide diversions at even the smallest sign of them. A little smoke in the distance and they'd turn and head in the opposite direction – and he'd given the tower visible from his camp an enormous berth as well. As for what had made him revise that policy, it was the assumption of [Direhowl] that their opportunist Master had simply decided when chancing upon this injured woman that this was another item to be collected and made a singular exception. He would surely make her into his obedient workslave, impregnate her, and keep her as a pet. How lucky for this Human! The she-wolf imagined that they would be so pleased to be presented with such a fate that they just may weep with gratitude!

Of course, none of that at all was going through Luke's head as he offered [Direhowl] a grateful nod for the completion of her patrol and took to absentmindedly scratching his Pal behind the ears while keeping up his vigil over the woman. He'd not slept a wink, but anxiety gnawed at him now more than tiredness. There was something distinctly… wrong… about this person. She was perfectly proportioned, a head shorter than him and endowed with a reasonable bust, her skin pale, young body toned as one would expect of an islander – but her hair was ludicrous. An unnatural sunburst orange drawn up into a rustic looking ponytail, it combined with her other features to give the girl a strangely artificial look. Too perfect, to the extent of looking a little inhuman, as if she were designed rather than born.

He'd found her with her [Pelt Armour] and [Common Shield] in a broken state, and her body badly beaten, though the sight of him atop [Direhowl] must have surprised her attacker for he saw nothing of them but a fleeing shadow. Bringing her back to his camp was too risky – there was every chance she could be hostile, after all – so, he'd loaded her up onto his mount and moved to a spot where he could make a temporary stronghold. One night on the [Shoddy Bed] was all that it had taken for her wounds to completely heal, Luke watching her [HP] slowly tick up through the display of his tablet. That alone was quite useful information – for he was a beneficiary of that mechanic as well. Did this mean that as long as he stopped short of death, it would be possible for him to recover from even grievous injury? He hoped not to personally find out.

“Please speak English…" He muttered under his breath, “This is my big chance to get some answers."

Luke had a lot to ask, but was shrewd enough to think about how he went about his questioning carefully, conscious of the impression he needed to make, not too weak, not too threatening. He didn't consider himself the sort of man that would save a person just because it was the right thing to do, even it was a cute girl. This was a calculated risk driven by his pragmatism. If they didn't share a language, or if she proved to be an enemy, then he would simply mount [Direhowl] and flee. It might have been safer to finish her off – but while he was no hero, Luke wasn't the sort that would kill in cold-blood either.

Worst case scenarios of a whole tribe of angry islanders hunting him down played on his mind, but fantasies of a valiant last stand fled when the girl groaned, her body shifted, and her eyes opened. Luke rallied himself and spoke clearly, “Hello? Do you understand me?"

She was amazingly composed considering the situation, responding not with discernible panic to the unfamiliar surrounds, but with a quiet appraisal. Luke, [Direhowl], the building, her ruined equipment and the set of basic gear laid out obviously on the [Primitive Workbench] for her. The woman seemed to process it all in an instant, and though her body became like a coiled spring, she still spoke evenly, “Where am I? The [Lovander] that attacked me… are you his [Pal Tamer]?"

A male [Lovander]? Luke had encountered one of those himself, and considering the proclivities of the female in his own camp, the girl's state of dress was a mystery solved. The rapacious Pal had likely destroyed her weapon and clothing in the process of readying her for mating, though the extent of the injuries on her body spoke well of just how much she must have struggled to resist him. Was bringing armour to the broken state necessary for a wild Pal to remove it? Another thing he hoped to not find out for himself.

“My tablet says we're on [Marsh Island]." Luke held up the device to show off the map, doing his best to look non-threatening despite his companion letting out a small warning growl as the woman noticeably tensed, “[Direhowl] is the only Pal I have with me – you were on your own when we found you. I didn't see any other Humans."

Her emerald eyes briefly widened, and she seemed to become even more wary of him, “You have one of those? Are you a settlement leader? I didn't know there was a village on [Marsh Island]!"

Luke winced, feeling a fool for his misstep. Just displaying the tablet seemed to have already given away a lot more information than he had intended to. Anything built without using the crafting system fell apart in a matter of minutes – of course these devices were necessary for life here! And if they were so limited in number that just seeing it had her assume he was a settlement leader, then there was the possibility that someone might try to take it from him. He couldn't let that happen, not when his survival depended on it. So, Luke summed up his bravado, “My village is elsewhere. I am the Master of that place, and there are many powerful Pals amongst my servants!"

She blinked. Maybe he'd overdone it a little. Or maybe it was hard to believe that he had many 'powerful servants' when all he was travelling with right now was [Direhowl], strong though she was. Though, if she'd seen through him, she didn't give any sign of it. In fact, she looked quite fearful, “Am I your prisoner?"

No. Of course, she wasn't. He'd made peace with letting her go free from the moment he'd rescued her. But if he were to say that, then he would undercut the threat of the character he was in the process of creating. If he sent her back to her people thinking that he was a force to be reckoned with, then none of them would mess with him. Probably. Hopefully. So, he did his best villainous sneer, “Perhaps. The strong have the right to take what they want. I am currently deciding what to do with you." Ugh. That line almost had him cringe a little, but he committed all the same.

[Direhowl] wagged her tail. This was exactly how her Master was supposed to act! He appeared to be sweating a little, but that was probably because it was rather warm this close to the [Mounted Torch]. Perhaps he would allow her to watch while he took possession of this Human girl? Then, after he had fucked her into submission and made her his toy, she would be able to have her own turn next…

“Please have mercy!" Panic cut through her voice, enough for Luke to be satisfied that he was being taken seriously, “My village would be troubled if I were to be captured. I am to bear our tribute to the [Rayne Syndicate]! They will destroy us if we do not pay!"

Luke leaned back, placing his finger and thumb to his chin as he quickly processed this new information. From what he could infer, it seemed that some organisation or another was extorting the village. That was simple enough. At the very least, any group powerful enough to threaten a whole community was one best avoided. He probed for more, “What sort of tribute does your village give to the [Rayne Syndicate]? There wasn't anything with you aside from a few empty [Pal Sphere]s and some basic supplies."

She tilted her head slightly, looking a little confused, “I'm going to birth a Pal Egg for them, of course. Does your village pay a different tribute?" A strange light appeared in her eyes. Hope. She spoke quickly, “Could it be that your servants are so powerful that the [Rayne Syndicate] doesn't trouble your village!?"

“Humans and Pals can b-breed!?" Luke almost shattered the illusion of his character, and covered his stutter with a slight cough.

“Y-yes." Her cheeks reddened slightly, “I… I suppose you wouldn't know if your community is so strong that it does not have to fear the [Rayne Syndicate]. When a Human and a Pal m-mates, there is a high chance of an Alpha Pal or a Pal with gold tier [Passive Skill]s being born, or even a rare subspecies. The Pal is always the same base species as whatever partners with the Human…" Suddenly looking rather self-conscious, she looked away, “Not that I would indulge in such deviancy otherwise! For the sake of my village, I must mate with a r-rare Pal! Then produce offspring with desirable traits! The [Rayne Syndicate] will leave us be a for a while if we give them a valuable egg…"

Luke did his best to not let his panic show. He could breed with his Pals? Had he impregnated any of them already? But rational thought had him shake his head. No. And from what he could tell of the system, a [Breeding Farm] and [Cake] would be required for that. Wild Pals were clearly not beholden to such limitations – and it seemed that those without tablets were not either. Still, the idea of a Human girl birthing an egg was… insane. How was she even going to manage that? Just strip off and offer herself up to a wandering [Grintale] or something?

He gave a slight smirk which he quickly suppressed. It was insane, but rather intriguing if he was being honest. In fact, he would quite like to witness that, the seriousness of his own survival situation be damned. Opportunist and hedonist as he was, there wasn't a single thing in the world that he wouldn't indulge in if it was freely offered up before him. Ah – best put in even more effort to wipe the lecherous look from his face or she might realise that he was exactly one of the sort of 'deviant's that she seemed so desperate not to be associated with. And why was [Direhowl] nodding along as if all of this was obvious!?

“Ahem." He cleared his throat, finding a question to get more information out of her, “Where and when do you make the exchange?"

“There isn't a strict time limit, but they will keep putting pressure on the village until we present them with a rare Pal for them to add to their forces. Eventually they will lose their patience and launch reprisals for us wasting their time." Her level tone returned, officious, and all of the resolve that let her take this situation in stride, “We hand over the egg at their main base – the [Rayne Syndicate Tower] of the [Windswept Hills]."

Perfect. His acting could use a little work, but Luke had managed to gather some vital intelligence from this encounter. Around the tower he'd been avoiding there was some villainous group extorting the Human settlements and gathering rare and powerful Pals. All the more reason to keep well clear of that area while he levelled up and furthered his search for a means of escaping the [Palpagos Islands]. He felt bad for them, but it wasn't his problem – and his interference would probably cause more harm than good. He was an interloper, and while he was quite happy in his role as Master of his camp, his objective remained freedom. Though, with that thought in mind, “I am interested in passing through the mists."

She laughed, or rather snorted as the tension left her, “That's a funny joke. There is nothing outside the mist. Any Pal that tries to pass through the mist dies, and any ship slowly falls apart. Everyone knows that. It's certain death."

Luke blinked, “Ship? You know what a ship is? You have them?"

“N-not my settlement, no." She shook her head, surprised by his vigour, “Some of those devices have a few unique options. Special outfits and accessories, but other stuff too. Things that nobody else can make. Another settlement leader or one of the faction leaders in charge of a tower probably has the ability to make a ship. The [Rayne Syndicate] has one to travel to the [Oil Rig]. H-haven't you seen it?"

He fought the urge to punch the air. A lead at last. From what Luke had seen, all structures in the [Palpagos Islands] slowly decayed, a process that he could keep track of with his tablet. If passing through the mists simply accelerated that decay, if the structure was high enough quality, then he might make a good distance before it collapsed into materials. A few 'ifs', but it was a start. He either needed to steal that boat from the [Rayne Syndicate] or reach a high level and hope that one of those options on his tablet concealed with a question mark turned out to be a seaworthy vessel.

Excellent. His appraising eye turned back to the girl and he evaluated her anew. Mature and calculated despite not even looking twenty, she had the sort of resolve that allowed her to adapt to the circumstance of being his captive – though there was a hopefulness and innocence to her as well. Ever since he'd made it look like he was strong enough to resist the [Rayne Syndicate] she'd been chewing her lip, on the edge of an obvious request. But, this was hardly a fight that he could afford to get involved with. If whoever it was that was in charge of that [Oil Rig] with those enormous laser weapons and who knows what else became his enemy, a thousand lives wouldn't be enough!

How would a powerful and threatening man in charge of a settlement with strong servants respond? He had no intention of defying the [Rayne Syndicate], but knew that helping this girl would surely open him up to more useful information and connections if he hoped to pursue someone with a tablet that could make a ship.

“Rejoice." Luke tried to appear aloof, though talking like this made his skin crawl, “You have been useful to me. I shall provide you with a powerful Pal for you to breed with. Then, you can pay your tribute to the [Rayne Syndicate]."

She looked disappointed, clearly on the cusp of requesting that he provide some sort of protection to her village instead. Redfaced and stuttering the word 'mate', she was the innocent sort despite all of the grit after all. Probably a virgin. He imagined that if she stumbled around the wilderness with basic weapons and armour, any powerful Pal worthy enough of providing offspring that would placate the [Rayne Syndicate] would be more likely to make a meal of her than allow itself to be used as a breeding stud. Her rejection of the [Lovander] implied she was hoping for a more uncommon breed. Or maybe she was simply afraid of the pheromones?

He was only thinking of her safety! Obviously! It definitely wasn't because he'd quite like to observe this woman underneath some large and bestial Pal or another before he made his escape from the [Palpagos Islands], nor be present when she forced out their eggs. A nice memory for him to take with him when he returned to the outside world. Did [Alpha Chillet] perhaps count as a rare Pal? For such a submissive male, he was almost unfairly well endowed. But, maybe he could find one even more esoteric – or get lucky with whatever was inside that egg he'd found recently.

“Thanks to you, I finally have a lead. I'm going to make it off these islands, after all-" Though he got no further than that before an ominous growling cut him short.

[Direhowl] snarled aggressively, channelling her ire into aggression directed at the Human girl. She'd only vaguely followed along the conversation, rather pleased with her Master being so threatening, and thinking it entirely correct that the person at his mercy provide him with satisfactory answers. But that was one answer too far. A means for her precious Master to leave the [Palpagos Islands]? A way for him to disappear and leave them all behind? She would not allow it, “I'll kill you, Human!"

“Stop! Bad Girl!"

The compulsion of a Pal's Tamer was not absolute. There was a gap in the interpretation of orders, and it was more than possible for a Pal to generally slack off in the process of carrying out a command. Any other one of Luke's Pals probably would have chosen to be a little slow processing that directive – slow enough for it to already be too late. But, [Direhowl] was the most obedient of them all, and she froze immediately. And then 'Bad Girl' had her cast herself to the floor and whimper.

“Sorry about th- I mean- My Pals are so powerful that you are lucky that I can restrain them!" Luke spewed bullshit so potent that even he was starting to believe it. What on earth had riled [Direhowl] up so much? From his perspective, that aggression had come out of nowhere. He shook his head, trying to smooth things over, “Oh, I don't even know your name. I am Luke."

Having pressed herself up against the wall to evade the angry canine, she stuttered her response, “B-Beryl." Spooked, she continued, “Am I free to leave now?"

“Yes." Luke gave a slight sigh. There were still so many unknowns. Not only about the threat of the [Rayne Syndicate], but any other settlement or faction leaders. How did the people of these islands live? Why did she look so uncanny? Were all of the islanders to perfect in appearance? What even were Pals, the Towers, the Mist? He couldn't ask any of these obvious things without giving himself away as an outsider even more than he already had, “I'll return here in five days." Luke picked an arbitrary number, sure that the egg would hatch soon enough, and if it didn't then there was always [Alpha Chillet], “With a suitable breeding partner for you. A rare Pal, just as you're hoping for." Maybe a little more threat was necessary to keep her from harm? “I would be displeased if you were to die in the meantime on your fool's errand. Perhaps I would be angry enough to make that displeasure known to your village. Take that [Cloth Outfit] and [Stone Spear] and be on your way."

She bit her lip again, and then bowed her head. Though what happened next took Luke by as much surprise as [Direhowl]'s outburst. Beryl stood from the [Shoddy Bed], and stripped her broken [Pelt Armour] from her body right in front of him, completely shameless in her nudity. Luke instinctively glanced away, but not before catching a good sight of that oddly perfect body in its entirety. She dressed slowly, and if he didn't know any better, he would have thought that she was showing herself off to him. A few moments later she was dressed, armed, and then gone.

Luke exhaled, content that he was finally alone, “Fuck. I'm a terrible actor. I wonder if all of the islanders are so cooperative, or if I just got lucky with this one…" He turned on his [Wooden Chair] to look down at the still cowering wolf, “And what happened there? Why did you go all vicious all of a sudden? It didn't look like she was about to attack or anything. In fact, she had given me a vital clue." He looked thoughtful again, “Oh… I get it." Luke smiled, “You stopped me when I was expressing gratitude earnestly. Good – I let my character slip there for a moment. Thank you, [Direhowl]. Good Girl!"

No. That wasn't it at all. But despite that, she couldn't help her tail give a very small wag in the wake of his words. One 'Good Girl' was enough to cancel out one 'Bad Girl', wasn't it? She would have to report what had happened here back to the other camp Pals. [Direhowl] may be at odds with the [Lovander] and [Eikthyrdeer] factions, but this was more important than that. Their precious Master was one step closer to abandoning them, and he still had no idea how desperately they all needed him!

“Damn. You still look a bit distraught." Luke furrowed his brow as he assessed his companion. Beryl was certainly gone, fled into the morning and likely on the way back to her village – a journey that would take much of the day. He'd deconstruct this compound when he was done with it, but before then it would at least be a suitable place for him to relax and indulge [Direhowl] a little. She did always look very pleased when he bossed her around, “Paw." He held out his hand, and she rose up from her submissive posture to present him with what he asked, “Other paw." She swapped, and her tail wagged slightly, “Spin." He twirled his arm, and she quickly shifted on the spot to follow him.

Bliss. It was already hard to remember what had made her so angry only a few moments ago. While quite aloof and with a very strong sense of service, this was the weakness that made the stern defender of the camp into an empty-headed pup. More commands came, and the wagging of her tail intensified, “Order me more, Master! I'll do whatever you want! I'll do everything you want!" Who cared about that Human girl? What did it matter if there was some prospect of their Master leaving them? If they appealed to him properly, then he would certainly choose to stay even if he was able to go! All they had to do was prove their devotion, and she was the most devoted of them all!

Something suddenly clicked inside her head while she basked in her love for her Master, thought returning with a jolt. It hadn't made much sense to her why he'd let the Human girl go when she was at his mercy. He'd learned something important from her, but taking her as his possession would allow him to learn much more at his leisure, and she would have no means of resisting him. So, why send her back to her people? Why not add another useful whore to his camp?

“Of course! My wonderful Master is already working on his plan to conquer the Human Settlement! You're amazing, Master! This is why you're the Alpha!" Expanding the pack was natural – and whether he intended to leave the [Palpagos Islands] or not, there were many advantages in surrounding himself with useful underlings. The Human girl would return to her people and spread his name with reverence and fear. Threatened by the [Rayne Syndicate], of course they would all bow before a much worthier Master if it meant an end to tributes and coercion! Her sly Master had offered them hope, and it would only be natural for him to demand obedience in return for sheltering behind his aegis.

The fantasies of the dawn that she'd worked so hard to sublimate resurfaced, now much grander in scale. In her head, she imagined her Master the ruler of the whole of the [Plateau of Beginnings], Humans and Pals alike united in subservience to their leader as one enormous pack. Maybe if she could deliver that to him, then he would commit to that ambition and give up on his intentions of leaving for good? [Lovander] had always posited that the reason that he sought to escape was because his life outside the mists was better than the one in it. Would that still be true if they made him more than the leader of their camp surrounded by devoted whores? What if he was a King? He need only command it, and she would make the whole [Windswept Hills] bow!

Luke smiled and ruffled his Pal's fur, having absolutely no idea that inside her head she was building a fiefdom for him. He wasn't so dense as to not be aware of his Pals' affections – but had no idea just how deep that loving devotion went. He simply thought that they were all indulging in the lusts forced on them by [Lovander] pheromones together. Of course, he didn't have any intentions of conquest at all; he sought nothing more than information, connections, and perhaps the enjoyable show of watching Beryl break her virginity on an enormous Pal cock. Or maybe his own. The islanders were sure to be wary of a man offering free gifts, and his offer to supply a rare Pal as a breeding partner might look a little suspect if he didn't demand something in return.

“Roll over and beg." He delivered his next command idly, only half paying attention. Maybe life in the camp surrounded by sexually subservient Pals had corrupted him a little if his thoughts were so quick to fly in that direction. He had always been an opportunist – that was necessary for his survivalism here on the islands as a castaway, but his hedonistic tendencies had grown a lot as well. The half-seen flash of Beryl's nudity has been enough to spur his attention, and even with his tastes having shifted towards the exotic, a Human female was hardly boring.

Luke found himself mentally comparing her to [Direhowl] as his faithful Pal collapsed onto her back before him, waggling her forepaws skywards as she made a show of begging in response to his command. There was some degree of allure here as well, though without either [Lovander] presenting her to him, or a sign as clear as the one that [Tombat] had given, he couldn't entirely be sure of the wolfess' interest in him. Her body was a little larger than his own, sturdy enough to serve as a mount and rugged enough to make her playful display of submission all the more endearing.

Her base colour was jet black, her limbs, scruff, and tail, a creamy white that continued along her underside. All in all, she wasn't dissimilar to a true wolf, though the intelligence behind her eyes was certainly sapient, and if she was a mere animal then Luke would have felt a lot more disturbed by how his gaze naturally drifted down her form to settle at her lower abdomen. He'd the feeling that she'd been showing that off to him for a while now – a dark spade puffed up with arousal and gleaming with slick.

There were similarities to [Foxparks], though her small vulpine offering required him to dig into her fur to properly display it to him while the grander canine here was swollen already to a slight distension, the lips of her femininity slightly protruding with a little pink on offer beyond the coal-coloured lips. The sight was almost hypnotising, and as he caught himself staring, Luke again considered just how far along the path to depravity his experiences had led him. He was making so much effort to get back home – but was a comfortable life in the modern world really worth abandoning this abundance of bestial cunt?

[Direhowl] whined softly, and it captured his attention, “Ah-" He'd been caught staring, “I was just thinking… of a name." He cleared his throat, speaking off the top of his head. The sheen of her vulva reminding him of a cocktail cherry, “How about Glace? Uh…" Well, he could hardly give the real reason for that name, 'because your wet cunt has the gleam of a sweet' might be a bit much even for the loyal [Direhowl], “Everyone is getting a name for what they are – or the opposite. I know you prefer the warm so… Glace."

Her tail wagged, and that alone was enough to signify acceptance. That her Master liked the name was sufficient for her to choose to like it as well. He was watching her again, and only her pride had her suppress the urge to thrust her hips upwards in an obvious show of what she wanted from her Human. Of course, she couldn't suppress the biological responses of her arousal, her needy cunt dripping with desperation, puffed up with want to mate. But still, nothing would happen until he commanded it. Glace beamed with joy. She was the third Pal of the camp to be named, and in her mind it placed her as the equal to [Lovander] and [Foxparks] in her Master's heart.

As for Luke, he tilted his head, struck with a thought. Why exactly was Glace so obviously aroused? Dutiful to start the day, aggressive when confronted with Beryl, and the only thing that separated that time from now was a little playtime with her. Nothing but a few commands. Was… that it? Curious, he spoke, “Bark!" And she did, “Show me your pads!" She flexed her pawtoes and put every pink bean on display, a little trickled of fluids dropping from her spade to be lost in the thick fur of her undertail as she did so.

She was getting off over his commands! That fact was enough to almost make him smirk. When he'd noticed such obvious arousal in [Tombat], mating with her had been framed as a punishment. In this case, perhaps the opposite was more appropriate, “You've worked hard for me, Glace. I think I should give you a reward." Maybe it was a little stilted, but at this point Luke was looking for an excuse to indulge himself as much as [Direhowl] was seeking release. The anxiety of his tense meeting with Beryl was gone, and this opportunist of a man could not deny that he'd had his eyes on his mount for some time now.

“Stay." He spoke the word and stood to move aside the [Wooden Chair], opening up the floorspace. Somewhere along the line, Luke had started to think of it as his right to fully claim his possessions, but wasn't so crude a man as to force the issue. He wanted to have them all for his own, and had no intention of passing up on a chance to let the mood take them and add Glace to his growing harem of Pals. Maybe it was the constant presence of [Lovander] pheromones about his usual living space, but he found himself able to quickly shift gears at any given moment these days towards indulging in the sexual. It wasn't to say that he was horny all the time, but it didn't take much to set him on that lewd track. Right now, he wanted this. He was sure that she wanted it as well. And what came next was obvious for all involved.

He fell to his knees, her tail trapped between his legs as he positioned himself below her, looking up her large body to see an ecstatic expression writ across her face. A little relief washed over him as he received that confirmation that this was exactly what she wanted. Of course, she should want it. She was his possession. His subservient whore. His owned slut, living to serve him. The voice of instinct spoke inside of him, a voice he'd been paying more and more attention to as he spent time on the [Palpagos Islands]. It was a voracious instinct that told him that his position as Master afforded him every indulgence. Inside the mists, the strong ruled, and the weak bowed. Those subservient to him has no right to resist – they should instead be honoured to offer themselves up to him. Every Pal he caught was his to make sport of. If he proved his power, then even the Human girl would be his by right, another doting whore to make gravid with his seed.

Luke blinked away that premonition of absolute dominance, slightly disturbed by the intrusive thoughts. However depraved his proclivities were, he made it a rule onto himself to only ever take what was offered to him. Leave rape to the [Lovander]s. Glace was presenting him with a thick, bestial cunt, and Luke could not imagine turning down such a gift. Intuition told him that her body was his now; it was a claim that he would never relinquish to anyone. And since his ownership of this Pal was now absolute, he was going to do whatever he wanted…

That started with setting his hands on each of her thighs and parting them all the further to better show off her femininity to him. There was a tremendous heat here, comparable to the [Fire Type] Ashley, a heightened body temperature and desperate arousal having the warmth cast from her lower body in waves along with the strong and heady scent of his second [Neutral Type] cunt. The greater dimensions of it provided him with a much clearer vision of this distinctly inhuman cunt, and for a little while he simply sat on his heels and observed what was his.

The protruding vulva that he usually saw slightly sagging down was instead stiffened with arousal, glazed with a sheen of femslick like black marble. Her perinium and undertail were also a little puffed up, but from this position he'd not as good a view of them, settling his focus mostly on her offered cunt. The Y-shaped folds protruded enough to have the pink inner flesh on display, the topmost point of her cunt flicked outwards in the form of a small flesh nub where the embedded clit hid from his eyes. It left him wondering if there was enough presented here for her to masturbate just by rubbing her hindlegs together, without the need to ever even set her tongue to herself.

Curious, he extended a finger and gave the puffed-up flesh a poke, finding there to be quite a wonderful squidgy feeling to her. Yielding, with a little firmness, he had the strange thought that it reminded him a little of a malt loaf. Well, that was breakfast ruined for him forever. Back to the here and now, he returned his hands to her inner thighs and made use of his thumbs to draw apart her folds just as he had for [Foxparks], rewarded with a view of pink inner flesh that was not too dissimilar to the vixen – though much grander in scale.

Aside from the size, what struck him the most was the elasticity of her. There was a pliability under his thumbs that he couldn't resist toying with, the rush of enough lubricant for her folds to part with a sticky thread of femslick proof enough for him that [Direhowl] was enjoying herself. He repeated the motion of pressing her cunt together and then drawing it apart, enjoying how it made her quiver in response. She didn't squirm. She couldn't. He'd ordered her to 'stay', after all. That alone was quite empowering – Glace was perfectly bound, not by the strength of his arm or a coiled rope, but immobilised by his will. She obeyed. And his inner voice smugly added, 'as every slut you own should'.

Encountering another Human had made him a little more conscious of those thoughts now, but he didn't have much of an inclination to deny them, allowing himself to bask in this sense of superiority. This desperate whore belonged to him completely, and the cunt that he owned was his to do with as he chose. He dug his thumbs deeper, the light of the [Mounted Torch] behind him allowing him a lewd view of her inner depths, as pink folds were drawn back by the force of his levelled palms to have her hooded clit exposed before him. He took a slow breath, his satisfied sigh a little too forceful as the whoosh of cold air over her vulnerable cunt had [Direhowl] unable to restrain a small whimper of need.

Her scent was a potent musk, similar to the other [Neutral Type] Pals of his camp, and not too far removed from a Human – but there was something distinctly animalistic about her smell, stronger than [Cremis], and lacking the mind-numbing effects of [Lovander]. He couldn't say that he hated it. In fact, it stirred his own arousal with every breath that he took. This cookie between his hands carried with it a strange sense of the taboo. [Foxparks] could not be mistaken for a vixen found outside the mists, but in the case of [Direhowl] there was not a tremendous amount to differentiate her from any common canine he might have found back in civilisation. She certainly passed the Harkness test – but there was still an odd thrill that accompanied this moment, this encounter a little closer to bestiality than any other that he'd had so far. But still, he was going to conquer this wolf, fuck her lupine spade into submission, and have the victory of watching her creamed cookie leak his seed into her fur.

First, a taste. Glace shuddered as he lowered his face to her spade, drawing her forepaws up to her face with the limited range of movement that she was allowed. She felt completely exposed to her Master, her canine instincts demanding that she obey his command to stay in the begging posture that he had left her in, she fought every reaction to squirm, twitch, and even moan, with all of her will. But she could not bite down on the throaty whine of satisfaction when the Human took the entirety of her distended cunt into his mouth and kissed her lower lips with violent intensity.

Her orgasm was immediate, and the suppression of his commands served only to increase the intensity of her climax. The deep knotting of an [Alpha Direhowl] could not compare to this! A male of her own kind would have to immobilise her with a mating bite and the collapsing his weight over her back – but here she was made vulnerable by nothing but the authority of her Master! Her eyes rolled back in pure bliss. Having a large pack of subservient whores was a mark of a superior Alpha – but right now she wondered if she might prefer to simply have her Human all to herself. She'd be an obedient whore for him, his Good Girl, a Human-owned slut that would keep her tail raised and her cunt ready for his superior cock. She was a conquered beast before he'd even touched her, and now little by little, she began to surrender her soul to him.

Glace whimpered her pleasure, locking her jaw to keep her muzzle closed. Her Master had pressed his face deeper into her cunt, capturing her lewd clit between his lips and applying pressure to it as he rolled that nub of pleasure. His collar was already soaked, and while there was nothing like [Lovander] pheromones to be found here, Luke still found his mind to be swimming as he indulged himself on this distinctly inhuman female. Her fur tickled his nose, and he grunted slightly in satisfaction as he felt her cookie twitch and ripple in an obvious second orgasm, chained so quickly after the first.

It seemed that Pals generally came hard and often, every female wet and every male copious. In fact, he'd grown quite voluminous in climax himself. With potential pairings varying so wildly in size and configuration, it made sense to ease compatibility somewhat, and Luke was glad for it. A small Pal was made a more yielding cocksleeve, and a larger one like [Direhowl] gave him the satisfaction of being able to look down and observe the wet ruin of a gushing cunt soaking into fur and cloth. To him, it truly felt like he was conquering a beast, wrestling down and exerting his will over a powerful creature. And as a [Pal Tamer], this was precisely the type of Master that he felt himself most suited to become. [Lovander] may have set him on the course, but it was undeniable that he wilfully lusted after his Pals and fantasised of a future in which every one of them lined up with their tails raised for him.

This obedient whore would be conditioned to yield to him as well. That she required his commands to indulge in pleasure felt like a challenge to him. Of course, he was pleased that all he need do was say the word and her cunt would be presented for his use. But would it not be better if she was driven so mad with desire that she offer herself all of her own accord? Maybe it was selfish on his part, but he wanted to destroy her self-denial, even if it meant the decimation of her kink. He wanted her to be free. And of course – he wanted her to use that freedom to devote herself to him as needily as the other Pals that shared his [Shoddy Bed]!

Exposed, vulnerable, immobilised, [Direhowl] whimpered into her forepaws, fighting desperately to hold that begging position as her Master continued to toy with her. Luke had not held her at the edge of a single orgasm, nor allowed her the lull of gentle pleasure. He was vicious in his ministrations, nuzzling her spade with his jaw, pressing his tongue deep, setting lips and teeth to her clit, and using his thumbs to further display her insides for him to toy with. He was voracious, lapping up her femcum as she whined her way into another submissive orgasm, drawing back to lick his lips as his tongue was replaced by two fingers twisting into her, an upwards curl finding her deepest pleasure in an electrifying bliss.

Her claws extended as her feet reflexively kicked the air, an involuntary reaction that she was incapable of suppressing as the wave-motion of his fingers assaulted her with terrifying rapidity. With his free hand, he rolled back the hood of her clit, toying with it and the flesh-nub that her distended folds provided, assailing the squidgy give of her femininity in a sexual torment honed through months of nightly orgies.

Glace broke.

Her mind whited out, and in those moments of unconscious reactivity, she found her body to have betrayed her. She writhed whorishly beneath her Master, one of her hind-paws grasping at his lead shoulder, claws digging into [Pelt Armour] as she tried to drag his arm deeper into her cunt. Arm. Because more than fingers – his whole hand had bludgeoned its way inside her, and he now fucked her with the full force of his forearm.

She howled her unintelligible pleasure, clenching hard on his wrist in a terrifying climax. Fear gripped her with the pleasure, the sensation that she would never be the same after this. Every previous grandiose speech of her devotion suddenly sounded like sophistry. She'd always said that she belonged to her Master, that it was proper for all those Pals that were his possessions to surrender everything to him – but she now felt like that sentiment was being engraved into her soul through her cunt. After this, she wouldn't be able to serve anyone else. She might offer her cunt up to another Pal to bear an egg for them if her Master ordered it of her, but what pleasure could they give that would ever compare to this subservience? Glace came her heart out as fingers tickled her cervix, and her womb beyond throbbed with need for her Master's essence.

This is what she was for. This is what she had always been for. Luke had used his free hand to twist his fingers into her scruff for leverage, the hand inside her drawn into a fist which he used to beat her insides into submission. The elasticity of her yielding cunt clung to his arm on every backstroke, a spattering of femcum soaking him as she writhed her way into another messy orgasm. She'd plenty of stamina – stamina enough to withstand even this, and the pain of his gouging arm served only to allow her the lucidity to cling to consciousness and enjoy the sensation of her canine cunt being beaten into absolute subservience to the Human that owned it.

A Pal egg was around the size of a Human fist when birthed, swelling to grander dimensions after being successfully passed, and while [Direhowl] was by no means loose, she had birthed her share of pups. It was only a matter of time before her cervix yielded, her pliant insides collapsing into her as Luke forced his hand into her womb. The pressure of her clit against his wrist was enormous, the force of his grapple and the intensity of his expression demonstration of his ownership over her. Yes. This was how it was supposed to be. Canine pussy belonged to the Human race by right! It was her destiny as a lupine species to be fucked into submission by mankind!

No wonder [Tombat] had pissed herself when their Master had visited intensity such as this on her as punishment! It was only the vestiges of her own dignity as an aloof guardian that prevented an equal loss of control for Glace. Luke had become a little dazed himself, lost in the moment, taken in by her scent, the force of his own dominant motions carrying him along in their wake. The heat against his arm was intense, the inside of her body a wet vice that clamped down rhythmically against him. She came so easily that there was hardly any sport in it, the number of orgasms that he'd beaten out of her servile cunt almost unfair in quantity. Maybe he should wrestle down [Lovander] and have her the same way sometime to put their little contests to rest once and for all? No. He enjoyed those too much to ruin their fun by making her pleasure-drunk.

He dragged at Glace's scruff, his arm sunk to the elbow. His forearm was overexerted, made rock solid in the wake of the effort as the muscles seized up, but there was still plenty of strength in his upper arm, and with his fist battering its way into his Pal's womb, he hardly needed finesse to bring her to submission. A small growl of effort rumbled in his throat and he adjusted the positioning of his legs to provide himself with further leverage, throwing everything into the bludgeoning of [Direhowl]'s insides, more speed, more force, deeper, harder. The squidgy lips of her cunt dragged back and forth with his arm, her femslick squirted around his wrist yet again, she crushed his forearm with her inner muscles, her cervix flexed against him, and the wet shlicking sound of the motion became a lewd cacophony.

He continued until the strength of his arm failed, the canine beneath him a ruined mess. Luke dragged his first free in a single motion, unsheathing himself in a shower of fluids that spattered against the [Wooden Foundation] in the wet sound of victory. Her puffed up spade was now truly swollen, her insides distended as pink surrender was visible beyond the parted black lips of that Y-shaped vulva. A cunt fucked into complete submission – and she had yet to have tasted his cock yet.

Well, he'd see about that. Glace was panting, her eyes misty and mind clearly adrift, but she was not unconscious. Luke dragged down the front of his [Pelt Armour], finally releasing his aching cock to the open air. There was quite a mess of precum about it, his arousal having mounted for long enough for him to have reached the apex of his need. It would be a waste of an orgasm if it wasn't fucked into a receptive Pal womb, and despite an internal configuration that would normally have made access to that quite difficult for a canine on their back, it was now more than distended enough for Luke to fuck his way to her core.

Though, he wasn't going to. Not from this position. He opened his mouth to demand that she present herself as an animal would, but the order froze on his lips. Glace was staring at his crotch as though hypnotised, clearly desperate to be dominated by the cock that owned her, yearning for him to tell her what to do. Luke couldn't help but smirk. He thought back to that fleeting idea he'd had. Wouldn't it be nice for her to want him so desperately that it overrode her need to be commanded? So, he showed himself off, and simply waited.

Her claws twitched and clenched at the air. [Direhowl] found her breath quickening. What was her Master waiting for? Her mind was overtaken by the instinct to breed, the demand to give herself to her dominant male and to bear his pups. Why was he denying her? He often did things that didn't make much sense to her, but there was always some purpose in the end. He was now idly observing the arm that had been buried elbow-deep into her spade, separating his fingers to watch ropes of femcum droop between them. What a mess she'd made. Her battered cunt ached, not only from the pain of his bludgeoning fisting, but with the desperate need to be soothed of a heat that only superior Human cum could put out.

He wasn't going to command her. The thought came to her with remarkable clarity. Her Master was toying with her, testing the power of his dominance over her by setting her want to submit to his pleasure against her own subservience. A strange divide had formed between submission and servility, and [Direhowl] was too lust-drunk to make sense of it. She needed her Master. She needed her Master more than she needed to serve her Master. Perhaps for a [Direhowl], that is what love meant.

Glace twisted onto her front, thrust her chest to the [Wooden Foundation], and raised her tail high, projecting her haunches towards her Master in a display of desperate need. She couldn't find the words to beg, settling instead for a whimpering that was completely unintelligible even in the language of the Pals. She had surrendered completely, and made true all of those words of submission that she'd demanded of her campmates. She felt a heated presence behind her, a hand seize the base of her tail and hike it all the higher, the head of his cock press against her dripping cookie, and the screaming assault of her insides as he thrust himself to the hilt.

Luke snarled, the singular ridge of the head of his cock passing through the grasping ring of a ruined cervix to bring him untold pleasure. That same sense of the taboo layered itself over him as he leaned over the distinctly canine creature beneath him, his free hand fingers twisting into the scruff of fur at her neck as leverage as the thrust of his hips rocked her body. She may have been similar to him in size, but her had the greater weight and his limbs could more easily apply their strength. Glace was at his mercy, a bestial cocksleeve for him to fuck to satisfaction.

An arrogant thought crossed his mind as she whimpered out another orgasm, thrust upon her by naught but the hilting of his cock and the fulfilment of her fantasy. This was a grateful bitch that could reach climax out of nothing but gratitude for being claimed by her Master. He leaned down and bit her ear, demanding her attention, “Good Girl…" He rumbled his praise in a low voice, “You're going to be a proactive slut from now on. I want to always be reminded that this cunt is mine. So, when your bitch pussy gets wet for your Master, you're going to offer it up for me."

Good Girl. She quivered at the words, “Yes, Master!" That was the only response. If a whore that took the initiative was what he wanted, then that is what he would have. Granted, the arousal invoked by the abundance of [Lovander] pheromones about camp and her own perverted nature would probably end up with her spending most of her time around him with her subservient canine cookie raised up and presented. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad if it meant he would beat her womb into submission and then balm the pain with his essence.

The force of his cock was lesser to that of his arm, but the sensation of being mated gave the act an intensity incomparable to the fisted destruction of her womb. Having denied himself while he tended to her, his orgasm was not long in the making, creamy white poured deep into her core. Though, the movement of his hips never ceased. The skin of Luke's abdomen struck the puffy flesh of her distended spade with a lewd slapping noise, a wet shlicking amplified by their combined fluids streaming from her gaped and loose cunt to cling to her flesh nub and then drip to the floor. For [Direhowl], it was bliss, her mind fucked clear of self-imposed shackles as her Master dominated her into his doting bitch.

His fingers flexed against her scruff and the base of her tail as he made known his control over her, dragging her receptive body closer to him, pinning her fluffy appendage over her back as he fucked his mount in deep powerful strokes. Every thrust peaked with the grasping seize of her ruined womb and the slap of his thighs against her puffy cunt, every withdrawal a mess of fluids and a whining bitch-moan. Luke groaned his own satisfaction, having found that canine cunt quite suited his tastes, he made mental comparisons against the surprisingly Human-like Vanilla, the smaller vulpine spade of Ashley, and the distinctly feline [Tombat]. Perhaps he should have them all line up so that he could try them one after another and make a more thorough assessment?

Oh, there was [Eikthyrdeer], as well. His mind wandered to the doe and he summoned to his minds eye the cervine cunt he'd glimpsed when brushing her down. She was always apart from the other Pals of late, strangely isolated, and it troubled him. He wouldn't force her to mate with him, however much that strange instinct inside of him demanded that he fuck her into grateful submission, but he must admit that he yearned for her. Ah – but it was not gentlemanly to imagine another girl when you had one writhing on the end of your cock already; even if that female was a bestial Pal with a distended womb and ruined cunt.

Luke fucked his conquest until his stamina finally gave way, taking a seat at the edge of the [Shoddy Bed] when he was done and issuing a command that Glace clean his cock. The broadness of her canine tongue was an interesting treat, quite different to the smaller [Cremis] and [Foxparks], and far apart from the rasping [Tombat] and serpentine [Lovander] and [Leezpunk]. She put forth enough effort for him to surrender one final orgasm over her face, and after a little time to cuddle and recover, they were ready to return to their camp and a hoard of worried Pals.

Far from them, Beryl had reached the monolith that would allow teleportation back to her settlement and she leaned against it to catch her breath from the jog along the beach. She faced the ocean and laughed in relief, even with the oppressive sight of the [Oil Rig] in the distance. What luck. Not only had she survived assault from a [Lovander] with her innocence intact, but been rescued by a man that had the power to stand against the [Rayne Syndicate]!

She imagined his settlement in her head, a mighty fortress patrolled by rare and powerful Pals, a vision far removed from the reality of the simple wooden affair hidden in the [Plateau of Beginnings] cliffs. If she could win him over, then they wouldn't be pushed around by the gunmen anymore, and she was determined to draw his interest for the good of her people. That his eyes lingered on her brief display of nudity told her that she was in with a chance…

~ SevenWingedDragon ~

Note: Whew, I really struggled to get this one started, but after I got going, I really got going. Aside from the bit posted as a teaser, the rest of this was done in one sitting over the last few hours. I had a lot of fun with this one, and hope that you all enjoy it, too! Remember when I promised myself that I'd keep these nice and easy at 6-8k each? Ugh. That didn't last long. Thanks to those that shot me PMs – they really helped me get unstuck, and I'm grateful for the check in. I had messages that have me thinking about trying out Animal Crossing for a series (though I need to play one of the games first!), a neat idea that has me on track for maybe another Pokemon one-shot, and a lot of help on getting this story underway, too! Most of my inspiration and ideas get started with your comments and PMs, and I'm super grateful for all of them! Please don't hesitate to get in touch if you have thoughts on a series, franchise, an idea for a story, or just want to say hey!

Next up is a male Pal, and the only unlewded male left in the camp is Alpha Chillet! Though, that said – Luke is around level 20 now and quite far-roaming, as well as being in possession of an egg that could contain anything. So, my question is – what male do you want next? Also, what rare male is inside that egg? While it would put the frost noodle off for another two chapters, I think that the best answer would be a Pal that is the same for both of those questions – one that can have their lewd in the next entry, and then be off for a time with Beryl (who yes, is the default avatar)! I always glance at the previous entry comments for these, but now that there is the context of 'm/m with Luke, then m/f with Beryl' for this guy, I thought it best to ask outright on this one here! Though, I should also ask – do you guys want to even see some Female Human x Male Pal, or should I skim that one after all?

As always, thanks for every watch (almost 500!), fave, vote, comment, PM, folder sub (almost 50!), and every last view as well. Special thanks to Oddreptile (it's awesome to hear from you again!) for the encouragement, putting fisting in my head, and Broncherry. Etnom for a dud egg that while it isn't gonna be this time, I really do want to do – and the second-best Dragon, Quivern! NoNoNope for the name of Glace that we used in the end (also, all of the help and encouragement, too). CapitalC for cheering on the half-chapter lewds (I was really worried it didn't land as the numbers are so low, but the comments have been so supportive). Cyril Dran for the competing name which left me torn for so long, and for the awesome encouragement as always. And TheMemesWantMemes for being a legend – I hope you liked this one after the teaser! This is my third time trying out this post-story note, as Sofurry has died on the last two attempts to post this piece, so I really hope that it goes through this time. Hopefully I've not missed anyone on these retypes.

Have a most excellent day.